Date: Mon, 28 Feb 2005 09:59:16 +0000 From: Mark Bronson Subject: JOURNEY INTO NIGHT - PART 1 (Authoriatarian/Urination) Copyright: Beastmaster42. This story is fiction. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely coincidental. JOURNEY INTO NIGHT CHAPTER ONE I was touring in a small ex-communist country in the Balkans by car. I was alone. I was driving along a dusty country road with nothing in sight - no house, no church, not even a dog. I wanted to get out of this desolate place, as kidnappings were frequent in this part of the world, so I put my foot down on the accelerator. I could see the dust swirling behind me in my mirror. Suddenly, a policeman popped out from behind a tree and waved me down. He waved me down - since they were armed, I decided to be a 'good boy' and stop. I pulled over. There were actually two policemen, the other one standing next to their car in the shade of what seemed to be the only large tree in the whole desolate, unbearably hot landscape. He indicated for me to get out of the car. He could see by my number plate that I was a foreigner, so he spoke to me in halting English.... "Papers!" he said in a tired sort of voice. I produced my passport and driving licence. He studied them intently, while his colleague fingered the gun in his holster nervously. They were both tall and heavily built, their uniforms were sticking to their bodies with sweat (they had obviously been on the job for quite some time). The first man placed my documents on the bonnet of his car and beckoned me over to him: "You English?" he asked. I nodded as I approached him nervously. When I got near him, the smell of sweat became overpowering (obviously they were not in the habit of washing too regularly in this part of the world). "You go too fast!" "I'm sorry," I replied. "You must pay!" I thought, well this is going to be difficult, because I did not have much local currency left.... "How much?" I asked. "Two thousand," came the reply. This was equivalent to about seventy English pounds - but I did not have them. I told him so. "You have Deutschmarks?" I did not. I offered him a cheque, but of course it was worthless in this part of the world. "But you must pay..." he insisted. I offered to go to the nearest town with him to a bank, where I could get money out with one of my credit cards. He conferred with his colleague, but I did not understand the language, so I could not make out what they were saying. They were both looking at me... I shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. It was very, very hot and I was wearing just a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. They were in hot, sweat-soaked uniforms... The first man came back to me: "No money - we must arrest you!" This came as a shock, and I started to protest - but they immediately got out their pistols and pointed them straight at me. I raised my hands and shut up. Obviously, the money would have gone straight into their own pockets, to supplement their meagre income, and they were annoyed that this foreigner was not going to oblige them. "We search you!..." he said, calmly. They ordered me to open the boot, and then my bag with all my clothes in it. They looked inside the car, but I was carrying nothing of any value, because thefts from foreigners were frequent here. Not finding even a camera, they became annoyed. He repeated: "You have no money?" "No," I replied, "I carry only plastic - credit cards - because it's safer..." The sweat dripped down his forehead from under his crew-cut hair... "Then we arrest you!" With his colleague's pistol pointing straight at me, he took out a pair of handcuffs, motioned for me to put my hands behind my back, and snapped them shut over my wrists. I became very nervous now - but consoled myself with the thought that, once in the police station, I could phone the British embassy and they would get me out. They motioned me to get in their car, and I did so - I was in no position to argue. I sat in the back with one of them, while the other one drove. We went along dusty trails for miles, but civilisation seemed to get no closer. Eventually I saw a small, isolated building in the distance. We drove towards it. The car drew up beside it, and I was ordered out. It was obviously the 'police station'. One of the big policemen took me firmly by the arm and marched me inside. There was a small desk with the duty policeman seated at it, and a small group of men and a couple of teenage boys, waiting around for their cases to be dealt with. There was one cell with bars at the back of the only room in the building. "I - I need to call my embassy...." I started to say, panicking now. "Later," the big man said nonchalantly, unlocking my handcuffs. He unlocked the cell and motioned me in... "We must search you - take off your clothes!" ... Now I was really in panic - how could it be necessary to search me for a speeding offence? What in God's name would they do to me, here in the middle of nowhere? I hesitated... "Now! You break law, you have no money - we arrest you! We search every prisoner for drugs, you know this is normal"... Well it might be normal for them, but I was not used to this treatment. I still hesitated... "P-please, not in front of these people..." I started to stutter, but his colleague simply came over and they both ripped off my T-shirt and pulled down my shorts and pants without saying a word. As they were much bigger than me, I was not in much of a position to resist. I stood there, naked in front of the men and boys, sweating as much from fear as the stifling heat. They looked me up and down, their eyes glittering. They could clearly see I had no drugs on me - where could I hide them? They looked at each other and smiled - I was embarrassed as the men and boys looked at me curiously as I stood there naked, and put my hands over my cock and balls. I spoke: "You see? I have no drugs..." "We will see..." and with that, they walked me firmly over to the table in the room beyond the cell and unceremoniously bent me over it... I knew what was coming next, but did not dare to resist - after all, they could beat me up if they wanted to, and no-one would help me. I decided to play along with them and just... submit. One of them kicked my legs apart, and I gripped the far edge of the table.... I felt my buttocks being pulled apart, exposing my hole to the other men and the two boys... then something cold and metallic was pushed into my hole: it was a gun! The colleague of the man holding the gun up my ass moved in front of me - his crotch was just in front of my face.... "You are bad boy! You break our law! You have no money, so we punish you!" Now I was afraid... But I decided discretion was the better part of valour here, with no-one to protect me, and continued to play along with them. With a gun up my ass I was in position to protest anyway. "Yes Sir," I said quietly... The man in front of me took my hands from the edge of the table, put them behind my back and snapped the handcuffs on them as before. As he bent over to do so, his crotch was pushed into my face - it smelled bad, a mixture of days of sweat and God knows what else lurked inside his uniform trousers. Then he stood up in front of me and started to undo his fly buttons... As he did so, he repeated: "You bad boy! We must punish you... You understand this?" I nodded slowly... "Good! Now we teach you to be good boy!" I watched in horror as he took out his uncircumcised cock: it was half hard, fat, sweaty and smelled cheesy and pissy... Handcuffed, naked, bent over the table with a gun up my ass, I did not resist as he pulled open my mouth and, pulling back his foreskin to reveal a cheese-encrusted cock head, he pushed it in, ordering me to suck... "Now you learn to be good boy!" he said, as I nearly threw up with the stink and taste of his foul, unwashed member expanding in my mouth as he gripped the back of my head and pushed it all the way in.... Then he pulled it out, lifted it up and pointed to his sweaty balls - he obviously wanted them licked too... Since submission was the only strategy left to me in this nightmare, I did what was expected of me... "You see? Now you good boy!" I wanted to puke as I licked what was probably days of sweat off his balls, but felt a bit relieved that he was pleased with me... I felt the gun being pulled out of my asshole, and heard the other cop fiddling with his trousers and spitting on his dick: of course, I knew what was coming, and tried to relax, knowing that my hole was about to be invaded by his fucking dick... However, the violence and suddenness of his entry took my breath away, and I opened my mouth to scream, but it was brutally filled with the other cop's stinking dick as he shoved it in... the only sound that came out of my mouth was "mmmmpppffff!" I could only take it, being stuffed with dick at both ends, naked and helpless as I was, with my hands cuffed behind me. The other men and the two boys (who I guessed were about 12 years old) watched the proceedings in silence - clearly this was a common occurrence in this remote part of the country... At last, the cop behind me shot his load up my shithole with a satisfied grunt, leaving his dick in there for a while till his colleague shot a hot load of cop spunk into my mouth and down my throat. Eventually, the foul thing was pulled out of my mouth and the cop who had fucked me walked round in front of me and stuck his cock in front of my face: I could see it was pretty shitty, and he glowered down at me angrily... "You dirty boy!..." Well, I wasn't exactly expecting to get raped, was I? "You clean me, NOW!" With my hands still cuffed behind me, I wasn't sure how I was supposed to do that - but he just pulled open my cum-filled mouth and shoved the filthy thing in... "You clean me!" he repeated. I was nearly sick as the taste and smell of my own shitty, sweaty ass filled my mouth and nose. I could do nothing but start licking and sucking the filthy thing clean as ordered. "You from West, you think we are nothing! You think we are shit! Now you eat shit! We teach you to respect us!..." He was right, of course. Now I was going to have to submit to this humiliation for God knew how long, till they finally released me. There was no way out - I would just have to please them till they thought I had been 'taught' my lesson. Eventually, he pulled his foul cock out of my mouth and inspected it carefully: it was clean, and he stuffed it back in his trousers. Submission was still the only strategy: the sooner they thought I had been taught humility, the sooner I would be out of this place... So I dared to speak: "Sir, you are right - we are arrogant in the West, and I deserve this for my arrogance. Thank you for training me... I will do my best to learn my lessons well, Sir!" I was astonished at my own words, but I knew it was the only way to avoid their anger, and maybe a few beatings. "Good!" he replied: "We teach you good not be arrogant! You think we are nothing! You think we are all dirty peasants! Now you learn respect for dirty peasants! Now you are nothing!" I dared to ask: "Wh - when will you let me call the embassy?" The cops just smiled at each other... "When we have finished with you - there is no need to call embassy!" What did this mean? It sounded like they would release me soon, and I could be on my way... or did it mean I would be here for much longer, to be used for their satisfaction, a toy to play with? "When you learn your lesson good, we let you go - understand?" "Yes, Sir," I answered nervously. I could feel his spunk leaking out of my hole and dribbling stickily down to my hanging balls and cock... "Now you are prisoner, and we must process you like all prisoners..." What did that mean? I soon found out.... They stood me up, then laid me down on the table, face up... my heart was pounding. One of them produced some soap and a razor: I was still handcuffed, so if they wanted to cut off my balls, I would not be able to resist them... I was terrified. But they just smiled down at me. My head was hanging just over the edge of the table, and one of them straddled it, gripping it firmly between his thick thighs, with my face firmly held up to his ass - thank God he was still wearing trousers! Even so, the stink of his big, sweaty, unwashed bum permeated them, and the smell was making me sick... The other one soaped up my cock and balls and began shaving all the hair off... I suppose prisoners were shaved in case they were carrying lice. With my hands cuffed and his colleague's big ass in my face, I couldn't do anything, so I just let him get on with it... Then the cop holding my face in his ass pulled up my legs and his mate shaved the hair off my asshole, my legs, then my chest. At a certain point, the cop farted in my face, but did not release his grip. The stench was unbelievable, and I thought I would throw up... They both laughed... as did the two boys. Eventually, they sat me up and shaved all the hair off my head: I looked down at my chest and cock: they were, like my legs and belly, as smooth as the day I was born... With my head shaved, I was now 'clean', and they stood me up on the floor, surveying their handiwork... The waiting men and boys eyed me curiously... "Now you learn rules! Every day, prisoners get beating in morning!" I was terrified - I thought my submissiveness would be enough for them, but this was something new. What did 'beating' mean? I soon found out... The cop who had farted in my face produced a vicious-looking cane from the corner of the room and walked towards me, hefting it in his hand, slashing it through the air, to show me what he intended to do... "It is now midday, and prisoner get beaten in morning early: but we give you beating now, then tomorrow when you wake up!" I was nearly shitting myself - I was sure he would cut my ass to ribbons. I had been caned many times at school, so I knew what to expect... Again, the only strategy would be to submit - any protest would be likely to anger him further, and the beating would be much worse, of that I was sure. I just looked down at the floor submissively... He snapped his fingers and pointed to the table. I guessed that was his way of saying "bend over!", so I slowly walked towards it, my hands still cuffed behind me, and bent over it, presenting my buttocks for punishment the way I had done so many times at school.... It had been some time since I was last beaten, so when the first stroke landed with a crack across my ass, I was shocked and stood up involuntarily... but his colleague, in front of me, just pulled me down again by my shoulders, and held my head between his thick thighs, so there would be no more interruptions. I groaned between his legs as the can whistled down again and again... I felt embarrassed knowing that the other men and the boys were watching my bare arse (with my cock and bollocks hanging down between my legs) getting whipped. After twenty vicious strokes, the beating stopped. My head was released from its stifling, sweaty prison and I stood up, with tears in my eyes. I looked him straight in the eye and said: "Thank you Sir... it is good of you to teach me respect this way..." My words had the desired effect: they were disconcerted by my submissiveness. They felt a slight twinge of embarrassment. My tormentor threw the cane down on the table and his colleague pushed me into the cell. I was thirsty, and asked for some water... He smiled at me, and calmly got out his cock and pissed into what I presumed was the water-bucket... "You need drink? - Here!", he said, putting the bucket on the floor. To drink this cop's piss was another act of humiliation I would have to endure, but I did not think I could do it, so I just stood there looking at the frothy yellow liquid... "When you are really thirsty, you will drink!" he said, locking the cell door behind him. They both looked at me through the bars, and laughed. Then they left, leaving me naked, shaved, beaten and handcuffed in my cell. "We come back later," one of them said as they left the small building, leaving me alone with the duty policeman and the other men and boys. The boys looked at me, whispering to each other and sniggering. Alone in the stifling heat of my cell, I had nothing to do but contemplate what was happening to me. How long would it be before they came back? Would I be tried in court? What would the sentence be - imprisonment? For how long? Would I be flogged (this was a customary punishment in these parts)? One of them had said that prisoners get beaten every morning, and of course there was nothing I could do about all this until the embassy had been informed - but I had been denied access to such communications. I could die in their custody and nobody would know about it. However, the fact that I am writing about my nightmare is proof that such an end did not await me, though at the time I could not know this. The stink of the frothy piss in the bucket grew stronger with the heat, but eventually I became so thirsty I knelt down with my hands cuffed behind me and slowly lowered my head into the bucket to lap at the foul yellow liquid inside it. I was grateful for the policeman's stinking piss. The thought that I was actually grateful for this degradation revealed to me how low I had sunk - was it possible to go any lower? The others - the men, the boys and the duty policeman looked at me and sniggered, but I was so goddam thirsty, I had to drink... I drank just enough to slake my thirst as the taste was disgusting. When I got up off my knees once more, piss dripping from my face, I saw that the two men were remonstrating with the duty policeman: I knew enough of their language to know that the boys had done something wrong, and the men had brought them into the police station to be dealt with. After some discussion and note-taking, the men stripped the boys naked and held them down over the table, ready for the policeman to give them the customary punishment... The cane whistled down, first on one boy's buttocks ten times, then the other's. The second boy was so scared he began to shit himself, a couple of turds plopping down between his legs as the policeman beat his wobbling buttocks. The men laughed, but the punishment continued unabated till the ten strokes had been dished out. Then they were allowed to stand up. The policeman harangued them both as they stood there, naked, with tears streaming down their faces, particularly the one who had lost control of his bowels. They rubbed their striped buttocks as he did so. The men looked over in my direction and at the turds on the floor. I could only guess what they were saying, but whatever it was caused the boys to stop crying and brighten up, giggling... The policeman walked over to my cell, unlocked it and snapped his fingers, motioning me over towards the desk. One of the men bent the boy who had shat himself over it again and the policeman, standing behind me, pushed me to my knees in front of the boy's arse. "You clean boy - NOW!" the policeman barked. I knew now what was expected of me, but I was assisted in my task by the policeman, who pushed my face into the boy's shitty arse so my tongue could do its work. The boy squirmed and groaned as my tongue lapped at his shitty hole and pushed its way inside. He farted a couple of times, but I continued my degrading task. After they considered that I had completed it, the policeman pulled my head away from his bum and inspected the boy's smooth hole - he was satisfied that it was clean enough. Then he went and brought the bucket with the rest of the piss I had not yet drunk, placed it beside me and snapped his fingers, pointing to the boy's turds which lay on the floor. Clearly, I had to pick them up and put them in the bucket - but my hands were still cuffed behind me... He just smirked down at me - and I knew what I had to do: slowly, I lowered my head and picked up the boy's turds in my mouth and dropped them into the piss remaining in the bucket. The men and the two boys sniggered as I was humiliated in front of them... Then I was ordered to lick the shitty streaks off the floor. When I had cleaned the floor to the policeman's satisfaction, I licked the remaining boy's shit off my lips. End of part 1. If you like this story, mail me at beastmaster42@hotmail.com and I will send more.