Date: Tue, 15 Mar 2005 14:19:56 +0000 From: Mark Bronson Subject: JOURNEY INTO NIGHT - Part 10 Copyright: Beastmaster42. This story is fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. Comments to beasmaster42@hotmail.com JOURNEY INTO NIGHT CHAPTER TEN Then we were marched out to the exercise yard with the other prisoners: like us, they were naked, shaved from head to foot, with rings and tags through their nipples and cocks - this at least meant that they would not be doing any fucking, so my arsehole would be safe from them (though of course the guards would be free to do whatever they liked to us...). The others crowded round us, wanting to know our names and why we were in here. They were very interested in the fact that I was English - it seemed I was the only foreigner they had ever had here. The gags had been taken out of our mouths and our hands were no longer cuffed. I spoke to the young lad who had been so brutally fucked, and he seemed surprised at my kindness - in fact, it caused tears to well up in his eyes. He asked me (I could speak their language a bit by now) "why are they doing this to me?" I asked him why he was arrested: it seemed that he had attacked his stepfather who was raping his younger brother, after years of treating his mother brutally. The attack had resulted in his stepfather's death. I could only put my arm round his shoulder to comfort him - there would be no reprieve for him, just years of imprisonment till he himself died - the same fate that I was condemned to. At least I knew the inspector would come for me from time to time, but for him there would only be endless monotony, surrounded by other naked prisoners who would no doubt use his mouth again and again - they could not fuck him because of the rings and metal tags through their cocks, but at least his tongue would be useful up their arseholes as they jerked their ringed cocks... As if on cue, two of the older prisoners, grabbed him away from me, frog-marching him backwards to a corner of the yard as he pleaded with me to save him. But I was powerless against the others, and could only watch as he was forced to his knees and made to lick the balls and arseholes of his two tormentors while they jerked off... Eventually, a whistle was blown and all the prisoners stood to attention in a line, their hands behind their backs, so I joined them in similar posture... The camp commandant emerged from inside the grim building and inspected the line of naked, shaven, ringed prisoners - who stared straight in front of them, not daring to register any expression on their faces, lest the commandant took it for impertinence. Occasionally, he would stop by a prisoner, hefting his cock and balls in his hands, then yanking them viciously up and down to provoke some agonised reaction. If a prisoner dared remove his hands from behind his back, the two guards who accompanied the commandant immediately set about beating him with canes which they always carried with them. If he resisted, or fell to the ground, he was immediately kicked until he stood to attention again - and the guards simply continued to cane his chest, belly, legs, back and buttocks till the commandant ordered them to stop. Seeing a grown man shuddering with sobs and tears is a pitiful thing, but this was a sight I grew used to over the next few years: every man in this prison had welts on all parts of his body from the frequent canings dished out by the guards. Of course, like me, they were all branded and ringed: the rings through their cocks meant that none of them would ever be able to fuck again - the only fucking done in this place was by the guards, and it was the prisoners naturally who were on the receiving end of the guards' dicks. Some of these men had been married or had girlfriends, but now they were just fuck tools for the amusement of the guards. They had no rights, like all life-prisoners, and they were shaved smooth from head to foot (I noticed that even their eyebrows had been removed, a fate that no doubt awaited me...). The commandant - a burly, thick-set man with short-cropped hair and a stubbly chin - walked along the line, "inspecting" his prisoners, each of whose genitals were given a vicious mauling, and stopped in front of me: with my heart pounding, I stared straight out in front of me, not daring to look into his eyes. Without warning, he brought his knee up into my groin, bashing my balls... The pain was excruciating, but I kept my hands behind my back, although my body bent forward as an instinctive reaction. My head rested for a moment on his uniformed chest, but he just grabbed my ringed nipples and pulled me upright again. I stood manfully to attention while he continued to pull and twist my nipples, keeping my hands behind my back. He seemed impressed with this and smiled... "You foreign dog - for you we have special treatment, very special..." he said in a sinister tone of voice. I tried to show no reaction, though there must have been a flicker in my eyes, because he gave a vicious twist to the rings in my nipples, which elicited a yelp of pain from me, I could not help it. His face darkened with annoyance, and he snapped his fingers to one of the guards, who fished out a thick leather gag from his pocket and strapped it tightly into my mouth, fastening the strap behind my head with great efficiency... Then he handcuffed my hands behind my back once more, and I continued to stand to attention... Suddenly, the guard at the gate called out that a visitor was arriving - I understood enough of their language to realise that it was the British ambassador's car - and, sure enough, as the gate swung open, the ambassadorial car drove in, sporting a Union Jack on its bonnet. It must have been a strange sight that greeted the ambassador's eyes as he drove past the line of naked, shaven prisoners standing to attention. He must have thought it was some weird guard of honour, got out to greet him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him get out, accompanied by the blond man who had visited me in the other prison. They looked briefly in our direction before going inside... The commandant left us standing there in the sweltering sun and disappeared inside, no doubt to 'welcome' the official party... Two guards emerged a few minutes later, walking briskly towards me. The marched me towards the door I had seen the others go through, and flung it open, marching me quickly to the commandant's office. When we entered, I saw the ambassador and the blond man seated and drinking a glass of something, no doubt alcoholic. I felt unbelievably embarrassed as I stood to attention - naked, shaven, gagged and handcuffed - the commandant and the two men from the embassy continued to chat as if I wasn't there for a moment, but then the ambassador asked the commandant if it was really necessary to parade me naked, cuffed and gagged like this in front of him... "He has no rights, he is life prisoner... I cannot make exception for him..." the commandant said dryly. So there I stood, with heavy rings through my nipples and cock, made heavier by the metal tags which were attached to them. The ambassador spoke: "It seems you've been a naughty boy - for God's sake man, why did you sign that paper? We could have got you out of here and stopped all this nonsense!" Of course, the thick leather gag filled my mouth and I could not answer... "Can you at least take the gag out, so he can answer me?" the ambassador asked the commandant. "He has nothing to say - he is life prisoner. He does not have right to speak..." the commandant once more reminded them. The blond man from the embassy smiled at me... "You see, Ambassador, I told you - he knew what he was getting into: we're better off without this filthy pervert!" The ambassador got up - a tall, distinguished man with greying temples - and walked towards me, then round the back of me... "I see they've given you the full treatment, brands and all!" he commented with some surprise. I didn't know whether he knew what "the full treatment" meant in these parts - the endless filth and degradation to which I had been subjected, the many times my asshole had been violated - he could only have had the vaguest idea. I blushed with embarrassment as he fingered my branded buttocks... The guards suddenly bent me over to give him a better look at my most intimate opening, pulling my buttocks wide open - clearly, a well-practised formality here. The ambassador diplomatically thanked them for their efforts, and I was stood upright again. He moved round in front of me and fingered the rings through my nipples. He spoke softly to me: "there might be something I can do to get you out of here - I could speak to the President himself. But if I sign this final paper, you will never leave this place, your freedom will be lost for ever - are you sure?" For the first time, I began to change my mind - I did not think I could spend the rest of my life like this... The commandant must have understood, because he immediately motioned the guards to take me away, before I had time to shake my head. As they pulled me backwards and I started to show in my eyes that I had changed my mind, my verbal pleas being reduced to a muffled groaning through my gag, I saw the commandant hand the paper to the ambassador, who looked at me one last time and, thinking that I had no objection, signed the paper which once and for all yielded me up to the tender mercies of the brutal regime that now possessed me, body and soul, for the rest of my life. The blond embassy man knew that I wanted to say "no", but distracted the ambassador by handing him his pen to sign: my last hope had gone, and now I was doomed... I was marched outside again, to join the line of naked prisoners, and stood to attention as the ambassador and his assistant got into the embassy car. I tried to catch the ambassador's eye in a vain attempt to signal my desire to be rescued, but the big, blond man kept him out of my view, so that now there was no hope of ever being 'rescued': he smiled at me as he got in the car - a cruel smile, as he handed the commandant an envelope with what I presumed was a wad of notes (clearly, he had some malicious arrangement with the commandant which involved me...). The car drove off, and the commandant came back towards me. He smiled at me as he lit a cigarette: then he motioned to the guards to take me inside. I was marched down various corridors, then down a flight of stairs into the basement. I was terrified: what new horrors awaited me?...