I was suffering from acute cramping as the filth I’d been forced to eat entered my bowels, only to be blocked by my asshole stuffed by Master Chris’s infernal suction machine with my own vomit and finally completely stopped up by an agonising barbed dildo. I started to writhe on the floor. Someone kicked me in the stomach. Another stomped on my dick. No one cared about my pain – they only wanted to increase it.
They started with the jet-wash. Freezing blasts, the very first aimed at my balls, soon reminded me about that ghastly procedure. The breath-stopping pain in my balls now combined with the cramps in my stomach and the agony of my stopped-up bowels. I rolled on the concrete and knocked my head on it to try to end the pain until Master Quentin realised what I was trying to do and stepped on my head, his boot crushing my left ear: “There’s no getting out of a punishment here, criminal slave”, he said.
The jet-wash over, I was tied to the railings for the 40 strokes of the cane I’d earned from disobeying Eddie in the filth-hole. The Frat took it in turns with full-force cuts into my naked buttocks. My buttocks were already welted and slightly swollen from earlier punishments, so it was extraordinarily painful, especially when old wounds were re-opened with one of their vicious swings of the heavy but flexible canes they were using.
The Frat leader was counting the strokes. They knew I would be incapable after the first few. Sometimes he’d say “a bit too low – do it again” or “you only got its hip – repeat the stroke”. They stopped after about 35 strokes but it only counted as 30 because of the repeats. They stopped because of an intervention from Master Wang – “the last ones should be given to the criminal slave without that dildo – the dildo’s protecting its hole too much”. Then Eddie piped that I still hadn’t been quizzed on the waste food “so it might earn more strokes, which it can also get on its fucking ripped-up hole when that dildo comes out”.
It soon became obvious that Eddie hadn’t thought the situation through. He had forgotten that, although he wasn’t a slave, he was a sub in a very sadistic frat.
“OK, Eddie”, said the Frat leader, “You can think up the questions while you get its dildo out”.
“Me?”
“Yup. It’ll be messy so it’s a sub job. Also, we don’t want more of your clothes to go the same way as those vomity boxers. So strip. Everything. Be a naked sub. Now!”
The Frat boys smirked as Eddie stripped. He now knew better than to hesitate.
I was still tied to the railings with my ass sticking out. Master Wes, looking so young and smiling happily, held out the sharp-ended buttock hooks in front of me.
“Please, Master Wes, I beg you. Not those terrible hooks again. Please. There’s no way I can take it ...” I trailed off as I realised my stupid mistake.
“Ten extra with the whip for begging”, came Master Wes’s laughing reply. “Plus, I’ll dig the hooks into your nasty stinking slave-ass deeper than before, and shake them around, cunt.”
The re-entry of those hooks into the same holes in the flesh of my buttocks, which had just started to heal, was a new torture to add to the caning and cramping. Completely ignoring my screams, just as Master Wes had promised, he and Master Wang played with the hooks after they were inserted, punishing the raw inner flesh. Then they attached long bungees to the hooks and pulled my ass open. My buttocks were forced apart, but the dildo stayed in place, stuck in place by its crude metal barbs sticking into me. Masters Wes and Wang stood well clear to my sides, stretching the bungees and buttock-hooks to the limit.
A slight stinking haze of liquid seeped from the sides of the dildo, but it gave no relief. The rest of the Frat moved well away.
“Go on, Eddie”, the Frat leader instructed. Now completely naked and with a look of sheer disgust, Eddie reached for my punishment-dildo. I felt blood starting to seep down my crack.
Eddie took a deep breath and yanked my dildo right out. Blood, followed by a huge quantity of filth exploded out of my asshole with a disgusting roar. Eddie screamed. An huge mass of animal shit, human shit and vomit, and disgusting pieces of rotted food and rats, exploded over Eddie, covering him from his face to his feet. His dick and balls, which were roughly level to my suddenly depressurised asshole, were covered with the eggshells he’d made me eat and mixed up with every kind of puked up mess. The extreme pain from the rips in my asshole from Eddie tearing out the barbed wire surrounding the dildo combined at least with the temporary relief of expelling so much filth.
Eddie spat on me and on the floor again and again. Some of the filth had somehow gone in his mouth. He was screaming and crying, desperate and furious. Screaming abuse at me, he clawed with his shit-covered hands at a torn piece of my anal ring and ripped it off completely. Blood spurted and I soon felt the heat and then the searing agonising burn of the soldering iron someone had handed Eddie to stop the bleeding.
I was still screaming when Eddie grabbed the the jet-wash but he couldn’t control it, and water streamed uselessly over the side of the flat roof.
“Turn it off, sub. We’ll wash you later”, said the Frat leader.
“Please, now – Sir - Please”, Eddie was in tears. The whole front of his naked body was covered in the worst filth imaginable.
“Later, sub. First five questions for the criminal slave. It gets an extra two strokes of the cane from you for any wrong answer.”
Master Wang, who seemed particularly to enjoy being cruel to Eddie held up his hand: “The sub pleaded – that’s not allowed. He needs to be punished. I think Eddie should be made to kiss each of the slave’s dirty buttocks and then its hole as his punishment – three serious wet kisses involving his tongue. Agreed?”
Everyone agreed.
I felt Eddie’s mouth and tongue a few moments later as he kissed my caned and shit-covered left buttock and then my right. I think he was still crying. His tongue entered my ruined hole and someoine shouted “Come on, Eddie, a full French kiss”. I actually heard Eddie sob as I felt his lips on my torn anus and his tongue moving around my shitty hole still oozing blood and shit. The Frat boys were laughing and clapping. I knew that Eddie’s cane strokes would be fierce.
The Frat leader relented and jet-washed Eddie himself. Eddie lost his balance and cracked his elbow on the concrete but no one cared about Eddie any more. Being a sub in that Frat, Eddie was discovering, wasn’t as bad as being a criminal slave – a long way off it – but it was still very nasty. To make a point Master Chris kicked the elbow Eddie had just hurt “Pull yourself together, boy, get up and ask the five questions. The filth-slave's only had 30 so far. It’s due another ten – you'd better make sure it gets more and then you’d better make sure it fucking feels them”
Finally, naked, freezing and soaked, and holding his injured elbow, Eddie pulled himself up, looked at me with absolute hatred, and started the quiz:
“Each wrong answer is 2 extra cane strokes added to the ten remaining. I’ll make your fucking hole bleed so fucking much. It’ll take stitches and a fucking blast furnace, not just a soldering iron, to stop it. Your fucking useless life can drain away through your stinking asshole ...”
“OK, just get on with the questions! You can flog his dick off later too with that whip, remember?”, said the Frat leader
The questions were predictably unanswerable:
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Whose Frat-shit is darkest in colour?
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What was in Master Wang’s diarrhoea when you had to drink it?
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How much extra whipping on your dick do you deserve for failing to eat the tails of two of the rats?
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How long ago were the rotted tomatoes thrown into the filth-hole?
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How long could a criminal slave survive with its head completely immersed in the animal-shit bucket?
I made some feeble attempts at answering:
“The Frat leader has the darkest shit” - “wrong, it’s Master Chris – remember his shit from before, criminal slave? You don’t pay enough attention to your Masters. You disrespect our fucking shit”.
“There was chicken soup in Master Wang’s diarrhoea” - “wrong, it was fish stew to make it stink more for you. Four extra strokes so far”.
“I deserve five extra strokes of the whip for not eating the rats’ tails when you told me to” - “wrong - it’s ten extra, and they’ll be fucking hard”.
“The tomatoes were a month old” - “wrong - they’d been in there slowly rotting for a whole semester – good food for a criminal slave”.
“A slave could survive two minutes with its head in shit” - “wrong - we’ll probably find out soon – look forward to the experiment, criminal slave!” Everyone laughed.
“Give it 20 more with the cane”, said the Frat leader to Eddie who was still naked and starting to shiver. I was also naked but in so much pain that I really didn’t notice the cold any more – I would notice it later when I was made to do outside work but not now.
“Use this one”, said the Frat leader and handed Eddie a bigger cane than the Frat had been using on me before. It looked a bit different – it had ridges and notches designed to increase my pain. “This cane will really tear into its nasty buttocks – make it scream the fucking place down, Eddie, and don’t forget the whipping you’ll be giving it later. You’ve done alright today. Enjoy yourself!”
The next 20 strokes, administered full strength by Eddie, naked, freezing, sadistic and furious, were more terrible than any caning till then. My legs had tied wide-apart for the hooks and dildo removal. The hooks were still in, so Eddie pulled them out roughly, making sure that the sharp ends dragged through the two wounds at shaking and at an angle to maximise the horrible deep pain.
Then the caning began. To start with, Eddie focussed on the tops of my thighs and that whole sensitive area where thighs and buttocks meet. Then he switched to my ruined tortured hole. The notched tip of the cane fell repeatedly on my torn anal ring. My whole body convulsed in agony when the tip, which was starting to split from being used so hard, hit at full force the exact place where Eddie had actually pulled out a piece of my anal ring after the brutal dildo removal. A spurt of blood fountained out and on to Eddie’s thighs and legs, but he didn’t care any more. Blinded by his hatred and spurred on by his sadism, he landed the cane there three more times.
When the Frat leader finally counted 20, the spray and the soldering iron were both applied. Desoite this, blood was still dripping down my legs and on to the concrete. I was shaking uncontrollably. I was left, tortured and freezing, as the Frat dispersed. I was barely conscious.
I guess they came for me about half an hour later, to take me to my cage. It was Masters Ahmed and Quentin.
“Cage-time, criminal slave”, said Master Quentin in his cheerful way. “A bit more weight than last time for those balls of yours going upstairs. Oh, and Master Ahmed here has a treat for your dick.”
Before untying me, Master Ahmed, reached between my legs and pulled my dick so far back that it felt frankly like he was dislocating it. It certainly woke me up. “Show it the screw, Quent”, he said and Master Quentin smiled and produced from his pocket a perfectly ordinary metal carpentry screw about three centimetres long, sharp at one end, and about half a centimetre across at the top where, in normal circumstances, a small screwdriver would be used to tighten it.
“We decided”, said Master Ahmed, “that you needed some punishment inside your disgusting slave-dick so it would hurt more tomorrow when Eddie flogs it with our most severe whip. Don’t you agree, criminal slave”. I gave the only answer possible: “Yes, Sirs, my dick needs to be punished inside and out. Please use that screw and please make sure it hurts me a lot.”
Then in an instant I felt cold steel touch my piss-slit. As Master Ahmed gradually pressed down, I felt at first terrible burning, and then spasms of severe pain as the ridges of the screw scraped the inside of my urethra. Only a little blood escaped before Master Ahmed slammed the screw-head down over my piss-slit, although it was obvious from the pain that my dick was bleeding inside; my urethra was well torn.
Master Ahmed then lifted the screw-head slightly to squeeze in some super-glue between it and my glans. My dick was literally stuffed with that metal screw. It was closed up. If I was ever to pee, they would have to tear off the screw and torture my glans-flesh.
Masters Ahmed and Quentin escorted me to the bottom of the stairs. At first I could hardly stand and barely walk. I was in terrible pain from my treatment in the filth-hole, from the caning, and now from the screw inside my dick. But they didn’t care at all.
Just like before, Master Quentin attached weights to my balls. Not 10 kg this time, but 15 kg. Both Masters then took the same severe leather straps in their hands as before and started me on that terrible journey to my cage, along a corridor and up two long flights of stairs. They flogged my thighs and shoulders mainly to avoid blood from my recently caned ass getting on the stairs, although Master Quentin, did give me two massive hits on each buttock when I was struggling with getting the weights over the overlapping lip on one of the upper stairs.
As before, Master Charlie came out of his room and used a lit cigar on me, this time on the soles of my feet, “You’ll feel these burns when you work outside tomorrow – you'll be doing some hard labour on burnt bare feet.” I shrieked as he burnt the sensitive balls of my feet. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like putting weight for hours on Master Charlie’s cruel burns the next day.
Master Wes stopped me when I was standing with 15kg swinging between my legs. He climbed a couple of stairs ahead of me and ordered me to lean forward and “make sure you drink every drop of my piss, criminal slave”. It was a long piss. Then Master Ahmed also pissed in my mouth. My blocked bladder soon started to fill with Frat-piss.
Finally – with hard leather strapping, brutal foot-burns, and a bladder full of piss, I made it to the top and crawled to the room with my cage. The room stank of Eddie’s old sick from the previous day when he’d been made to drink Master Wang’s diarrhoea, along with some of the Frat leader’s shit, and other older shit, vomit and piss. Eddie’s boxers were covered in vomit and right next to where my head would go in the cage.
I crawled into the tiny cage with its bare metal floor. Master Ahmed spat and pissed on me and left the room.
“Another extra treat”, said Master Quentin, who lowered his trousers and boxers and simply squatted over the part of my cage where my face was and crapped. It wasn’t a lot. It consisted of three hard turds. “Eat up, criminal slave – any left in the morning means a longer whipping from Eddie, and you definitely won’t enjoy that.”
Then I was alone. Master Quentin’s turds slipped off my face on to the floor and one of them rolled through the bars of my cage and out of reach. I knew that would mean an extra whipping from Eddie who now hated me more than ever. I had a water bowl – one or two of the Frat had pissed in it but it was still mainly water. I was thirsty and still had to eat two of Master Quentin’s turds which would make me even thirstier. But the nail torturing the inside of my penis was now even more painful than my balls after their horrific weight-dragging and more painful than my burnt feet and just about on the same level as my tortured rectum and torn anal ring. And it was that nail that would stop me pissing – and I needed to piss as Master Wes’s and the other boys’ piss passed through me into my bladder.
I was left for the whole night. No one even wanted to enter my stinking room to piss on me. I drank a few drops of my polluted water. It added to the pressure on my bladder but without it I couldn’t have eaten the two of Master Quetin’s turds which had stayed in my cage. I wanted to piss so much. From sheer exhaustion, I think I slept a bit. When I woke, I felt like I had drunk ten pints before sleeping. The pain in my bladder caught up with the constant scratching of my urethra and my ruined asshole (which I realised with some horror would probably encourage some of the Frat to fuck me rather than put them off). My teeth were also hurting a lot from Master Wang’s use of his little metal hammer.
It was, in fact, Master Wang who came in the next morning and switched on the lights. To my disbelief and complete misery, he had his hammer with him. “You stink, criminal slave. You’re filthy and deserve extra punishment. I’m going to use my hammer. Later, we’re going to take you down to be whipped.”
The Frat leader came in a moment later and noticed Master Quentin’s hard turd which had rolled away from the cage and out of my reach. “There’s a fucking turd on the floor, criminal slave.” The small turd had rolled on to the floor on the opposite side to where Eddie’s vomited-on boxers lay with some of the Frat leader’s own shit on them.
“Whose is it, cunt-slave?”
“Master Quentin’s, Master”
“Crawl over and eat it as soon as we let you out. Ten extra from Eddie with the whip for disrepect”. I was now doubting if I would survive the whipping. “Fair, filth-slave".
“Yes, Master. It’s quite fair. I’m getting what I deserve. Eddie will make sure the whip really hurts me.”
Master Wang then said “I want to have a go at some of its teeth before they get covered in Quent’s shit.”
“OK, criminal slave. Out now. Teeth first. Turd-eating after. We’ll use this collar to make you keep your head still for the hammering. Master Wang will break at least three of your fingers, as well as more teeth, with his hammer, if you don’t keep your mouth open for the whole hammering punishment or if you try to get your hands in the way. Got it? Is it fair, criminal slave?”
“Yes, Master, it’s fair. Am I to be permitted to pee, Master?”
“Fucking hell, slave, begging again. You’re a slow learner. I was going to let you piss in your water bowl after eating Master Quentin’s turd, but you’ll just have to wait. My bladder was now another source of hopeless and torturing pain.”
I squeezed out of the entrance to my dog-cage. Master Wang grabbed my head and put a tight collar on me and attached it to the top bar of the cage. I was now sitting on the floor now with my head forced facing upwards towards the ceiling light. Master Wang picked up his hammer and it shone in the light. Master Wang smiled “Open up, criminal slave!”
Three more Frat boys entered the room to watch Master Wang crack more of my teeth. Sadism just turned them on – one of them was Master Wes and I noticed that he was naked with a full erection.
I opened my mouth and felt two unbelievably painful blows in quick succession. Master Wang smashed his hammer into the exact two teeth he’s broken a few days earlier. One of them broke at the root, completely exposing the nerve. The other split in two and lent into my mouth at a strange angle. The second blow was far worse. Master Wang pulled the left side of my mouth open and hit my lower teeth with a hard blow. The metal hammer crushed three lower teeth, pulling them apart and jamming them into my gums at the same time.
The pain in my mouth was just terrible. I was told to keep it open while all five smiling Frat boys spat into it. Then they pushed me on to my back and fucked me one after the other as they held my legs back over my head, which completely exposed my torn asshole. Master Wes went first and came very quickly, grinning as he worked me and then yelling ecstatically as he spurted inside me. My torture was a huge turn-on in for these boys – the worse my pain the more they enjoyed raping me. The Frat leader added tight clamps on my nipples before he raped me. Master Wang hit my nail-stuffed dick with hammer and fucked me as I screamed from the penis-pain through the teeth he’d just broken.
“That was a nice wake-up call for you, criminal slave – we've improved your mouth, and had some fun with your slave-cunt”, said the Frat leader. “We’ll take you downstairs this afternoon after classes. You’ll get a special meal, which I promise you won’t enjoy, and then you’ll get your frontal whipping from Eddie. Look forward to it!”
He turned to Master Wang - “Can you get that fucking thing out of its dick? I don’t want it to die and miss its meal and whipping? We can put another one in later.
Master Wes held my dick so it was aiming away from him and towards Eddie’s boxers and sick. Master Wang then picked up his terrible hammer again and this time used the wrench and pulled at the screw head which was super-glued to my pisshole. He lifted it up, pulling a few pieces of skin and a bit of blood with it. I felt an acute shock of pain in my glans. I then screamed in agony as he squeezed my dick as tightly as he could below where the screw had reached - “I don’t want slave-piss on my hammer”. He pulled the screw slowly out. When he let go, I pissed into Eddie’s sick and boxers, some of it going on to the Frat leader’s shit too and softening it slightly. After that, they put me back in the cage.
Master Chris was the only person who came in to see me before he too went off to his morning classes. He took a piss on me and threw some coffee dregs in my face from a mug he was carrying. Then he spoke to me - “You won’t believe what they’re going to make you eat before they whip you, criminal slave. The last criminal slave died, when Wang, who’s really crazy, sliced it up. You know they can do what they want with criminal-slave shit like you. Believe me, they’ve thought of shit even Eddie and I couldn’t imagine. I don’t know if they’ll kill you in the end. You’ll probably beg them to.
“Remember that film of how they sliced the last slave’s dick and then clamped the two bits of it? Well, there are several ideas about what to do with whatever’s left of yours after Eddie’s whipped it. But the best bit is that they're going to make you eat pieces of the last criminal slave. They only fucking froze them! You’ll definitely do the eating because of the torture they’ll give you if you don’t. It’ll be fucking amazing. I think they’ll make you eat its hairy armpits today – you can still see what they were, even if they’ve rotted a bit. They might make you eat one of its balls too – a nice testicle to eat, criminal slave!
“Wow, there’s the eating, the whipping, probably some other tortures, and pretty gruesome supervised hard labour – apparently, you’ll be clamped in lots of places for hard labour and whipped continuously”.
“Anyway, I’ve got to go now. Have a nice day, criminal slave.”
With that, Master Chris reached in and gave a twist and squeeze to the harsh nipple clamps the Frat leader had put on me, and he left the room.
I waited, crammed in that dog-cage, with every part of me in pain, and with a terrible cold fear of what was coming next.
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