The first whip-stroke on my balls had not castrated me as I first feared. When the sickening shock had faded slightly, I looked down. Master Chris had whipped my balls so hard, in an accurate straight line, that they were still swinging. Blood seeped from my torn scrotum and a sharp red line was visible across the top of both my thighs which had also been in the way of the hard leather punishment-end of the whip.
Number seven.
I noticed that Master Chris was crouching now. The whip cracked from low down in front of me. Then the terrifying whistling. The impact this time was like a severe electric shock, and a with a similar amount of agony. This time, Master Chris had hit between my balls from below. The whip had in fact only glanced the balls themselves. The end had bitten into my perineum, stopping just short of my asshole. A pulsating pain from there now combined with the sickening ache from my balls and my bleeding tortured dick. I was screaming continuously.
Number eight.
Oh God, Master Chris was crouching even lower. The whip hissed upwards, hitting my ball-sack at right angles again and then hurtling up to the loose-hanging skin on the underside of my dick, pushing it back into the wound above, and then catching it and ripping it back a bit more as the whip fell.
I think some of the Frat boys applauded Master Chris at this stage. Someone said “They don’t come much better than that!” Master Jacoby came over and asked Master Chris to give him a minute. "I need a piss", he told me. Since I was standing, he couldn't use my mouth as a toilet, so he took a glass, got out his soft black dick, and casually pissed into it. "Watch this, criminal slave – a nice drink for you". The cup filled with his dark yellow piss. He filled it to the brim, snorted and spat into it a couple of times, held it up to me to smell – it was pungent – and then "drink it down, slave". It was bitter and salty but of course I had to chug it all down.
Number nine.
This time Master Chris's whip slammed into my right ball so it, in turn, banged hard into my left ball. I felt the pain of a well-aimed ball-kick, but at ten times the intensity. I staggered back only to find the razor-sharp dildo enter my asshole. I fell back further. I screamed and croaked. The blades on the dildo pricked my wounded anus at once. I forced myself forward again, now feeling equally vulnerable front and back. I also started to feel painful burning from the Icy Hot which Master Chris had painted on to that horrible dildo.
Number ten.
Master Chris took a piece of parcel-tape and roughly tied my dick upwards and back on to my pubes. He now had a clear run at my ball-sack from above. The whip slashed down at a terrifying speed. Master Chris’s grunting exertion and pure sadism were helped by gravity this time. Both balls took a direct hit with another visible tear in my ball-sack. The tip of the whip flew into the front of my right thigh. In the blinding pain, I looked down. My balls were still attached, but I was sure that neither my dick nor balls would survive a further whipping like this tomorrow.
The Frat-boys were enjoying themselves. I saw Masters Wang and Wes masturbating each other, enjoying themselves as my own sexual organs were being beaten. Master Wes was breathing heavily. Soon he would cum. Master Wang was relaxed slowly appreciating my utter degradation and endless punishments.
I also had noticed that Eddie, who was tied to the metal pole opposite to where I was being flogged, had started to breathe raggedly. He just couldn't take any more. He started shouting hysterically: “I don’t fucking deserve this, you bastards – my fucking arms, my fucking balls, my fucking ass – stop torturing me!” Master Wang, half-erect, walked across to the naked tied-up boy.
“Your arms?”
Master Wang calmly pulled the chains holding Eddie’s arms tighter, making him stretch more and go on tiptoe. "No, no more, please ... "
“Your balls?”
As Master Wang reached for Eddie’s aching balls, Eddie threw back his head. He shrieked and begged :“No, Wang, please Wang, I’ll do anything, I’ll drink your diarr ... aaargh” - Wang twisted and squeezed Eddie’s balls. His fingers pressed into them. Master Wang definitely knew how to hurt a boy’s balls.
“What was the other? Oh yes, your ass.” Master Wang picked up a big dildo and simply shoved it up Eddie’s asshole unlubed and with a good deal of force - “if that comes out, Eddie, you’ll get 20 with the cane from me.
"We’ll release you when we feel like it, perhaps we’ve finished whipping the criminal slave, but perhaps not, you treacherous piece of shit.”
Eddie just sobbed.
Number eleven.
Number eleven, when it came, was on my nipples. Master Chris had decided to have a shot at hitting them separately, starting with my right nipple. Because of the dildo forcing me to protrude my genitals, my chest was turned upwards, enabling the whip to come down on it, and on my nipples, with the extra force of gravity. It was Master Chris’s first miss. The whip cut across the right side of my chest at an angle just below my nipple and cut a line right down to my belly button. The pain there was unexpected and horrendous.
Number twelve.
“Fuck, I'll have a second try, criminal slave”. Master Chris smiled and this time hit my right nipple dead centre and full force. The actual pain was less intense than the previous stroke. A red whip-line seemed to divide the nipple in two from top left to bottom right. The nub started to swell. Little by little, the pain in my nipple grew worse.
“Number thirteen”.
Oh God, the same nipple. Master Chris came from a slightly different angle and somehow tore into that swelling nub.
At this point, the Frat leader stepped in. I thought for a wonderful moment that he was going to stop the whipping, at least for now. But he was hard and had decided to give me a public unlubed fucking, just like he had when I first arrived at the Frat. I was less broken the first time. Having pushed the torture-dildo aside, he pulled my ass back out of the whipping frame, and entered me roughly, pulling out and re-entering at least a dozen times before bursting inside me. It was simple and brutal. grabbed my tortured nipple and twisting my good one. He It simply burst.
“Number fourteen”.
Eddie, tied opposite me, was now groaning as well as sobbing. The whip cracked and whistled and enveloped the dark skin around my left nipple this time. It seemed to curve around the nub itself and leave it sore but intact.
“Number fifteen”
Back to the right nipple. Straight across the remains of the nub. Asshole again pushed back on to razor wire. Nipple more or less destroyed, and a new super-painful line going from my right nipple into my right armpit.
“Number sixteen”
Sixteen to twenty were aimed at my shins, feet and thighs. They showed that these real sadists were not just interested in punishing my ass, dick and balls like many sexual sadists. They enjoyed inflicting all kinds of pain, any kind of pain anywhere on my body in fact. Master Chris slashed the whip into the sensitive tops of my feet, agonisingly breaking two of my toenails – the big toenail on my left foot was actually ripped off by the power of his whip stroke and the impact of the hard leather, causing a spasm of pain that for a few moments eclipsed all the other pain I was suffering. Two whippings on the thin skin of my shins cut my right shin to the bone at the point where the whip-marks crossed. I screamed and Master Chris smiled as he lifted the whip for the fifth time and brought it down at massive speed wrapping its malevolent ends around my left thigh. Master Chris smiled and told me: “We’ve got some salt to rub in those wounds”, he said.
“Number twenty one”
“What do you think”, asked Master Chris to no one in particular: “its face or shall I finish off its dick and make it eat it?” Eddie was now sobbing loudly and shaking his p: “Shut the fuck up, sub-boy traitor, or you’ll feel this whip which is ripping the skin off the criminal slave, between your own fucking legs.” Eddie somehow brought himself under control and attention shifted back to me. I was shaking now from shock, pain and fear. The Frat leader intervened: “Let's salt its wounds for now.” He turned to me with a smirk: "We'll carry on with your whipping tomorrow – the next day too if we feel like it. Now we’re going to stuff your wounds with industrial salt, the gritty stuff that they use on icy roads. Prepare yourself, criminal slave.”
They dragged me back to the flat roof by the hell-hole where there was a big tub of road salt. Apparently it had been delivered with the disgusting farm manure which I had eaten out of the filth-bucket during that punishment. Masters Wes and Paul each took handfuls of the brownish salt. I could see that it contained lots of small sharp pieces of gravel, presumably designed to stop cars and trucks from slipping, as well as big crystals of salt.
They didn’t just rub it on my wounds. They tied me to the railings where I had been caned before, but this time facing outwards with my back to the railings. Then, as I screamed and begged, they worked the gravelly salt into my whip wounds one by one. Master Paul started with my nipples, paying particular attention to the ruined nub of my right nipple. It took him about a minute of agonising work pushing small pieces of gravel and salt under the dark circle of skin around the nipple and then working it into the seeping split nub itself, finally slapping and punching it to break up the salt. He used crude sticking tape, the sort used on parcels to stop the skin flapping and to keep the salt and gravel inside. There is no way to describe the additional pain this caused – and so far they’d only salted one nipple.
They dealt next with my ripped shins and feet, especially taking their time over the toe which had had its nail torn off. They also opened up the burns on the soles of my feet caused by Master Charlie’s cigar.
They saved my dick and balls till last. Masters Wang and Chris had turned up on the roof for that part of the show. I was more scared about what they would do now, even than I had been before their caning and whipping.
Master Wes grabbed my injured dick and gave it a playful torturous smack. “What are we going to do with this, criminal slave?”. Some blood dripped on to the floor when he squeezed it. “We’ll deal with the underside first, I think”, he continued. “We’ll push the salt inside and tape that nasty-looking flap of skin.” Master Wang smiled “It’ll probably beg us to cut its dick off after it’s found out what that feels like”. “We’ll give the top of it a good salt-rub too”, said Master Wes. “Yeah, take your time. It won’t like the way its dick feels", Master Wang advised.
To deal with the underside of my dick, Master Paul grabbed it from Master Wes and twisted it mercilessly until the underside faced upwards. Master Wes then pulled back the torn flap of skin, tearing a little more, and grabbed some rock-salt with his other hand. The crystals glowed white in the evening light but quickly turned red as they were pushed into the whip-torn under-side of my penis and absorbed my dick-blood. The pain from the road salt was intense and immediate, and it increased as Master Wes rubbed the crystals directly on to the blood and fluids of the wound. He took his sweet time. Eventually the whole of the wound was covered with a layer of rock salt a few millimetres deep. Then came the special bit. Master Wes pulled the flap of dead skin back over the salted tortured mess of blood, fluids and salt and pushed it down until it stuck there. He then reached for the transparent parcel tape and wound it twice very tightly around my dick. “That’ll lock the torture in, criminal slave,” he said. “Do you think you deserve it?” I managed somehow to say “Yes, Master; thank you, Master”.
I think I passed out and came to on the floor with Master Wang pissing in my eyes. “OK, it’s awake, now salt its fucking balls.” The road-salt was thoroughly rubbed all over my ball-sack. Then Master Wang played with me for a while. Handling my balls and dick and running his fingers over my nipples. Of course, in these circumstances, every touch was painful. Little flicks, squeezes and twists, which would once have turned me on, were agony. At last, I was dragged back to the Frat’s punishment room.
Eddie had been made to prepare my meal. “This is for you, criminal slave”, said the Frat leader. “Eddie’s punishment was to prepare it. Your much worse punishment is to eat it. You’ll be told how and when to eat it. You’d better do exactly as you’re told or we’ll cut your fingers off – Master Wang’s good at that, je uses his hammer first and then cuts with his blunt scissors – the pain and horror will be more intense than anything up till now, so I recommend complete obedience, filth-slave".
I glanced at Eddie who had obviously been sick and not allowed to clean up. He had fresh vomit on his face and chest. Then I noticed he was wearing the boxers which he had been told to use for the shit and vomit which had been next to my cage for a few days. They must have been just a bit uncomfortable and so disgusting. Some fresh vomit had dripped on top of them, but I still noticed his dick, which those disgusting damp boxers were clinging to, was now semi-hard because of my impending further punishment and despite his own punishment and humiliation.
I was told to sit on a plastic chair in front of a table covered in a plastic cloth. I could see that there was a wide bowl under the cloth, but I couldn’t see what was in it. The Frat leader told Eddie to explain what was in my punishment meal - “What will it have to eat, Eddie?”
I sat down as Eddie began to speak. I was overwhelmed by the terrible continuing torture of my broken dick, my torn feet and shins, and my ripped and salted nipples. What came next, only for a moment, nearly made me forget all of my pain.
Eddie spoke quietly, lifting his vomit-smeared face up towards me: “Your meal will be all the sick and shit from your room upstairs, plus your sick from when you were whipped just now.” Then he hesitated. “Carry on, cunt-boy, unless you want to share it all with the criminal slave”, said the Frat leader. Eddie looked like he was going to vomit again - “They made me open Wang’s box and I put some body-parts from the last criminal slave in your meal. There is skin from both its armpits – it's still got hairs on it, but it’s rotted on the edges. There is a section from the root of its dick. And ... its lips.” Eddie looked like he might actually faint: “They told me to tell you that it was all cut off that criminal slave while he was fully conscious ... and it took a long time with knives and blunt scissors ..." Eddie’s voice died away and he looked down. He was no longer even semi-hard.
“And what happens if the criminal slave doesn’t eat it all up and savour it?”, Master Wang demanded.
“They’ll smash its fingers, one by one, with hammers.”
“Then?”
“They’ll cut off its testicles.”
“How?”
“With the blunt scissors.”
Then Master Wang turned to me and laughed at me “Lift the cloth, criminal slave”.
I lifted the cloth and what I saw immediately made me retch. In fact, I nearly passed out again from the sheer horror of what was in front of me. Eddie had been forced, by being told that he would have to eat the meal too if he didn’t comply, to shape the filth and human remains into a kind of face. The cut-out but unbroken lips of the former slave had been set in the shape of an open heart-shaped mouth from which a huge turd protruded instead of a tongue. Above the lips, the nose of the face was a stub of the slave’s penis, ripped off as part of its torture. The eyes of the face were made from the hairy flesh of the slave’s armpits, jaggedly ripped out of him while he screamed. The face lay looking up at me on a background of shit and vomit.
Master Wang showed me that he was holding his hammer. “Eat. Start with the tongue, or I will start with one of your fingers. Then the lips, or I will cut off your balls.” The room went silent.
It went through my mind to give up then, but I guess I still had a shred of hope. I dipped my face forward and I made myself bite off the end the tongue, a huge repulsive stinking turd. “Is that one of mine from its cage?”, the Frat leader asked Eddie. “No Sir”, he answered quietly, “Master Charlie made me get a long hard turd from the blocked toilet, to make it extra nasty for the criminal slave.”
It certainly was nasty. I’d eaten dog-shit and been dipped in pig-shit. I’d eaten Master Chris’s vile and half-rotted shit. This turd, however, the pretend tongue, was truly awful. It had a warm soft inside that just stuck everywhere in my mouth.
“Savour it. Enjoy it.” That was an order from Wang with his hammer. I rolled it around in my mouth and let the whole turd soften to a kind of stinking paste before forcing myself to swallow it.
It took eight bites to eat that turd. The Frat watched in fascinated horror. At least two wanked each other while I struggled. I was truly dreading what was coming next. I didn’t know if I could do it.
“The lips now, criminal slave”.
This time Master Wes, fascinated by everything, gave the order. He was a perfect young sadist. He stripped off his shorts – he was commando and fully erect. “Wank me while you eat those fucking lips, you filthy fucking slave”. That broke the ice and the Frat started chatting and wanking more. Seeing me eat a former slave’s lips, which had been cut of him while he was alive and screaming in agony, was definitely a highlight for them.
I bent my face towards the lips which stood out on a hill of yellowish lumpy vomit. I lifted them with my teeth, accidentally using one of the teeth that Wang had smashed with his hammer the previous day. That made me drop them back into the vomit. I picked them up again, this time getting vomit on my nose and all around my mouth, but holding on to the lips.
They tasted of nothing. I bit down on those lips. The rubbery exterior gave way quite easily to a mushy interior. Presumably the lips had rotted slightly from the inside. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, a liquid substance started seeping and then seemed to pour from the lips which now dangled half in my mouth and half hanging down. I was shocked. i was horrified. I spat out the lips and they fell back into some of the Frat leader’s shit at the side of my plate. I vomited most of the blocked-toilet shit I’d just eaten all over them.
“You’ve got 60 seconds to eat that sick”, said Master Wang “and then 10 more seconds to get those lips back in your mouth”. I’m timing you. One finger will go if you fail. “And if you stop wanking me again, I’ll bite off a chunk of your ear, criminal slave”, said Master Wes. In the next minute from hell, I sucked up all the shit that I’d just vomited and I fished out the amputated lips from the shit-mess. I somehow also wanked Master Wes who was groaning with excitement and pleasure. I tentatively bit into the lips again. More thick fluid poured out of them into my mouth. I dared not swallow it too quickly. I chewed on those lips and the mouth-flesh which was still attached to them. I just tried to make myself forget what I was actually eating, which was made more difficult because I was wanking a boy who was enjoying himself precisely because of what I was eating.
I eventually bit the lips in half and swallowed what i think had been the former slave’s lower lip. I noticed a few hairs but somehow forced it down. “Keep the rest in your mouth. Bite it into smaller pieces”, ordered Master Wang. I chewed those lips for at least another five minutes. As I chewed, I noticed that some of the torn flesh from the former slave’s mouth had rotted where Master Wang’s blunt scissors had torn it. Those bits tasted worse even than the shit or vomit I had to eat. As I bit into that rotting flesh, a vile-tasting sweet liquid leaked into my mouth, which I didn’t dare to swallow or spit out, because of Master Wang’s hammer. Eventually, on a nod from Master Wang, I was allowed to swallow. Somehow I kept it down.
At that moment, Master Wes came in my hand. “Eat my cum, all of it”, he said. I did.
They had made Eddie set the lips in a pool of my own vomit from when I was being whipped. I licked and sucked until that was gone and then turned to the nose, a gross fleshy section of the former slave’s penis. Some hairs at the base showed that it was the root of his decent-size penis, but now it was shrivelled and half rotted. The Frat leader told me to hold it up so everyone could see. Its soft rotten edges dripped.
I put that piece of another man’s tortured penis in my mouth. Like before, the rotted bits, especially around the hairs, were the worst. It wasn’t the taste – the shit and vomit were far worse. It was the thought of what I was eating and how it had got to the point where I was eating a piece of an amputated human dick embedded in human shit. I chewed and chewed. I was weeping. I didn’t even resist. I chewed that lump of penis until I was told by the Frat leader to swallow. It slid down my throat and into my bowels. I was lower than anyone could have described. I was hardly even human. I sobbed. They laughed.
The ripped-out armpit flesh was horrible and the hairs, covered in shit and vomit, stuck in my throat. The horror of eating vomit never went away, however much they forced me to do it. The worst was the vomit thrown up by Eddie and left to rot beside my cage. He had vomited straight after being made to drink Master Wang’s diarrhoea, but of course he had also thrown up the spat-in cold porridge he’d eaten earlier for breakfast. Unlike shit, when you eat vomit, you can taste what’s in it. I tasted Eddie’s lumps of thrown-up porridge, which had by now been marinated for days in Mater Wang’s stinking diarrhoea.
After a while, as I licked up the remaining shit, chewing on the Frat leader’s turds and the extra shit Eddie had got from the blocked toilet, the Frat boys got bored and drifted away.
Master Quentin had been left in charge and decided only to put 10kg on my balls for going upstairs, and this time Master Charlie did not appear with his cigar. Master Quentin was helped by Master Jacoby who used the notched whangee cane on me a few times when I was too slow – his twist was always to make sure I was bearing the full weight on my balls when he used the cane: “stand there, criminal slave, I’m giving you five across that disgusting ass of yours, and keep that weight swinging while I cane you”. It was intensely painful, “a nice torture to finish the day, eh, criminal slave?” “Yes, Master Jacoby, thank you. It was well deserved, Master.”
Eddie was waiting miserably by my cage. He would be sharing it with me tonight. Master Quentin ordered me in and Eddie somehow squeezed on top of me. His face squashed against mine. I could feel his dick and balls on my stomach and his knees forced my legs apart, crunching into my balls and forcing my knees painfully into the bars on either side of the cage.
“Eddie”, Master Quentin spoke quickly in a whisper “They’ll probably kill the slave tomorrow – it's Saturday and, apart from sports, most of them will be here all day. They don’t know what to do with you yet – they’re talking about castrating you and I don't know what they'll do with your balls ... ”
Master Quentin produced 2 keys, one for the cage and one for a car. “The address is in the car. The criminal slave will still be a fucking slave, but I’ll register it there. We’ll have fun punishing it – it'll still eat our shit and have weights on its fucking balls ... Give the frat an hour to settle down and then get the fuck out of here.”
THE END (for now)
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