By Mister-X / Spartan
A couple of hours later, the door to the room opened again.
“There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you. You’re overdue for your weekly cleaning.” It was the two guys who took care of washing and milking me. I was very pleased to see them. At last I was going to be taken down.
They untied the ropes from the side, unlocked the padlock from my ankles, and started marching me out the room and down the corridor. They left the garrote in place, the noose tightly around my neck and the rope attached to my hand cuffs, the leather strap, and brought the ropes with them.
When they got to the cleaning room, they put me in the cage, undid all the restraints including cutting the cable ties on the leather strap, gave me the rag and soap, told me I had one minute, and turned on the shower. This done, they hooked me up again to the milking machine and gave me a drink of water. After the pleasurable and painful (the spiked cock ring was still on) releases, they put all the restraints back on, including the leather strap with new plastic cable ties, garrote and noose and rope attached to hand cuffs, marched me to that room and carefully restored me back to the tight positions I had been in. Then they left the room.
After my ecstasy at being rescued, I was now deeply depressed at finding myself back in that extremely stressful position and location. Yes, I was cleaner, but so what? They hadn’t fed me, so I was quite weak. And that sadistic guard was bound to return to continue his torture. What a vacation this was turning out to be.
After a few more hours the door opened again. It was the sadistic guard. He was dressed in his civilian leathers, and this time he brought some friends along. I recognized at least one more of the guards who went around beating the prisoners. They had not only their batons and the whip, but paddles and canes. I knew they didn’t bring them along just to show me that they had them, and there was no one else in the room for them to use them on. I was in for another beating.
“Smiley”, for that is what I’ve started calling him, lowered me down from the beam, but kept the rope tightly around my neck and released the rope pulling my hand cuffs up. I was stretched out on the floor on my back, and the gang proceeded to start beating me. They would take turns pulling the rope attached to the hand cuffs so that my arms did not prevent them from hitting my body. After a while, they turned me over and continued the beating. As before, I got a good going over. I knew that I was going to have numerous bruises. After they had finished their beating, smiley strung me back up again, up to my tiptoes at first. Then to show off to his friends, he pulled the rope to hang me off my feet until I passed out. When I came to, I was again on my tiptoes and the gang had gone.
It must have been morning when the door opened and another guard came in with a plate full of food. Apparently at last I was going to get something to eat. The guard lowered me down onto the floor, admonished me to keep quiet, and unstrapped the gag. I was ravenous and had no inhibitions about getting my mouth to the plate to eat. I must have made quite a sight, because the guard was laughing as he was watching. Then the cup came out for me to piss into, and to drink from. I didn’t care. I was thirsty. The guard laughed at the sight of me drinking my piss. The plate was put under my back side for me to empty into after the guard had removed my butt plug, but I was too constipated to do that. After realizing that I wouldn’t be able to, the guard put the butt plug back in and replaced all the restraints, raising me back up onto my tiptoes again with my hands brought back painfully as well. That rope was still digging into my neck and the garrote was still making me dizzy, but at last I had some food in me.
A few hours later the door opened and the guy from the “play room” came in. When he saw me he said,
“They weren’t supposed to have moved you out from your cell. It’s time for your next phase.” He let me down and finally removed the noose, the garrote and the rope holding my hands up, but he left the tight leather strap around my neck. He removed the padlock from my ankle cuffs and marched me out of the room. He took me back to my cell, but not yet into it. He said the next phase was for the guards to place me in a series of torture devices in the dungeon. When I heard that I was going to be tortured by those sadistic guards I started yelling into my gag. The guy said, “You shouldn’t have done that. That’s a demerit.” I’d forgotten about that, and quickly shut up. The guard opened the cell door and pushed me in. I fell to the floor. The guy told the guard that I’d earned a demerit. The guard said in broken English, “Hanging guy earn demerit? Outstanding! Guards have fun tonight!” I didn’t like the sound of that.
The guard and the play room guy left, and soon smiley was back with the noose rope again and the rope for my hands. Before long I was strung up again like before with my hands pulled back, only without the garrote around my neck. Smiley had pulled the rope up a little bit too far because I was having trouble keeping my toes on the floor. I finally passed out. I must have been out for some time, because I woke up to see the gang of guards in my cell, though lying on my cot. Smiley was in charge. A bucket of water had been doused on me to wake me up.
They lowered me down, unlocked the lock on my ankles, and marched me down the corridor to the dungeon. Some of the devices were already in use with prisoners strapped to them. I recognized my cell mate in one of them. They were all in great pain. I knew I would soon be as well.
They first locked me in a small cell and took off most of the restraints from me so that I was naked. They took me over to the rack. But before securing me to it, they laid about a dozen boards down which had some nails sticking up, though not too far. They forcibly put me on them on the rack and secured my hands and feet to opposite ends. I was already starting to scream into my gag. Smiley got a big smile on his face and said, “Another demerit.” Damn. They cranked the device until I was stretched out taut.
The guards got paddles, a whip and a cane and started beating me. Pretty soon my body was a mass of welts, some of which were noticeably bleeding. Smiley in particular aimed his whip at my tits, and I have to say, he was pretty accurate with his aim. It was all I could do to keep from screaming.
They had noticed the spikes in the cock ring. They started lightly running their fingers over my aching tits, which caused my penis to try getting hard. Whenever that would happen, they would pull the cock ring by a string they had attached to it. I was in a lot of pain. Then they started tickling my bare feet. I had always been ticklish, and this started me laughing. The guards thought that was funny after all the pain I’d suffered, and they kept at it. Pretty soon smiley pulled the crank a little more to add extra pressure to my stressful position. I couldn’t help but let out another scream. Smiley held up three fingers in front of me.
One of them looked at their watch, said something to the others, and they all left, leaving me stretched out on the rack So much had been going on that I’d forgotten about the nails I was laying on. I started noticing them while I was waiting for someone to return. I tried remembering which of the devices in the dungeon I had reacted to. I remembered reacting to this rack, but I had trouble remembering the others. I figured I’d find out in the coming days, as I had no illusions that I was going to be spending a large part of my remaining month in this room.
When Smiley returned he was still dressed in his guard’s uniform. He first cranked the device back to a less strenuous position. He pulled my head up and strapped that monster leather plug gag back on. Then he cranked the device back to its previous strenuous stretched out position. He put his fingers over my nose, cutting off my air. I could take it for a minute, but then started thrashing around trying to get air. He kept his fingers there. As I was losing consciousness I heard him say, “Adios, amigo”.
When I regained consciousness I was still stretched out on the rack as I had been when I lost consciousness. The prisoners were still there, but there were no guards. Not that any of us could have escaped what we were in. I figured that smiley and his gang were the ones who were to administer this part of my visit, and he had finished work for the day. I also figured that this was to be my bed for the night.
The next morning, for that was what I figured it had to be, a guard came in with a plate of food. He moved the crank to allow me to prop my head up, and removed my gag. He held the plate next to my mouth for me to eat. When this was done he put a cup next to my penis for me to piss into. After I’d done what I could, he gave me that to drink and re-strapped the gag. He held the plate up and motioned to my back side, but I shook my head. I was still constipated. The guard finally cranked me back to my strenuous stretched out position.
I heard guards, or the same one multiple times, doing the same to the prisoners in the room. Then all was quiet again.
In a few hours, smiley and his gang came in. He greeted me with “Amigo!” I didn’t feel like his friend, but he thought I was his. They released me from the rack, pulling the boards from my back since they had come up with me when I got up, and took me over to a winch and attached my cuffed ankles to it. They started raising it up until my head was off the floor. My hands were cuffed behind me. They pulled a strap around my arms above my elbows and screwed chatlet cuffs onto my wrists, hands palm-to-palm. Then they removed the regular hand cuffs that had been on, as well as the strap.
They brought out this huge heavy collar. It was about an inch thick and four inches high, made of steel. They showed me the internal size, which was smaller than I’d told them my neck size is, and remember that I’d told them a smaller size than it actually is. They proceeded to try to put it on me, hanging upside down. It was not easy to do, and took them probably 15 minutes before they finally had closed and locked it. It was crushing my Adams apple, and was choking me. They attached a chain to an embedded ring at the back of the collar and pulled it down to a hook in the floor. They put some muscle into pulling me taut, finally padlocking one of the chain links to the floor.
Now I was upside down with a heavy, tight metal collar locked to the floor putting me in another strenuous stretched out position, my hands in chatlet cuffs which put my shoulders in a stressful, painful position. Smiley and his friends brought out their assortment of paddles, batons, whips and canes to start beating me with. They soon noticed that my cuffed hands were again in their way, so they got a rope and pulled them down as far as they could go without pulling my arms out of their sockets, tying the rope to the floor.
There wasn’t any part of me that could move, other than my chastitied penis, fingers and toes. But just about every part hurt. I had to take every blow that they dished out. And I dared not express any sound lest I incur another demerit. My body was already covered in welts and bruises from previous beatings, but this session just added to those. They finally finished their beating and had to attend to other prisoners. I was left strung up like I was.
Hours later smiley and his friends returned. This time they were not in their guard’s uniforms, but in civilian leathers. They lowered me down from being hoisted upside down, removed the rope from the hand cuffs, and took me over to a leather sleep sack on the floor. It looked too comfortable, and I wondered if it was a day of rest from everything. But when they opened it up and showed me the inside, I knew it was not. The inside was lined with hundreds of little nails. This wasn’t on the list or in the test, and I wondered where it came from. I looked at smiley questioningly, and he had a big smile on his face as he said, “Guard demerit numero uno. Get in.”
This was something I really dreaded having to do, and I hesitated. Smiley’s people just lifted me up and lay me down on the sack. The sleeves had zippers which were opened, and after removing the cuffs but holding fast to my arms, they first placed my arms in the sleeves and zipped them up to my arm pits. Then they zipped up the sack itself, which was a tight fit. The nails immediately started cutting into me. I’d noticed before that when I screamed from the pain when they were torturing me in their civilian leathers, I didn’t earn a demerit. So I figured it was okay to let them hear my displeasure. After I was in the sack, up to my neck, smiley started pulling the external leather straps tightly closed. Then there was the external string which he pulled tightly closed. All of this got the nails to push deeper into me. He brought out a leather hood, which he opened to reveal dozens of tiny nails embedded in it. I let out a gasp when I saw that. Then he showed me the internal gag, which also had nails protruding from it. At least I noticed that there were no nails over the eyes, but this would be bad enough to experience. He proceeded to put the gag in my mouth, my head in the hood, pulled the strings tightly closed and pulled the strap tightly closed at the neck. I now had tiny nails literally sticking into my entire body. My penis tried to get hard, which caused the internal spikes in the chastity to dig in further as well.
They attached a hoist to my ankles and winched me into the air. Soon I felt myself being beaten again with the paddles and batons. Each beating forced the nails further into my skin. I was screaming my head off. Finally they stopped the beatings and said “Buenos noches”. I didn’t get any sleep that night. And I knew I was going to have lots of scars from this. But this was one of the three demerits, with still two yet to go. The dread of what that might be kept me awake as much as the pain did.
The next morning I was lowered and removed from the sleep sack. The cuffs were put back on. The gag was still strapped on. But my butt plug was removed. I was so tired from the experience that I couldn’t put up any resistance if I’d wanted to. My mind was unable to focus on what was happening. I was fed and emptied as usual.
Then I was helped to stand on my feet. I heard a familiar voice order me to attention and to start marching. It was smiley. He was back in his guard’s uniform.
I was marched to another cell. This was the one with the big dude. Smiley looked at me and said, “Guard demerit numero dos”. The cell door was opened and I was marched in. I saw the big guy’s eyes light up when he saw me. He had cuffs on his wrists behind his back and on his ankles like all the other prisoners. When I was in the cell and the guards had gone outside, locking the door, he didn’t come over to me but instead started maneuvering himself over to the cell door. There the guard unlocked the padlock on his ankles. Then the prisoner maneuvered around to place his cuffed hands next to the door, and the guard unlocked those. Finally he pushed himself around, and pushed his chastited penis at the guard, who unlocked his chastity device.
The guy got up, got a big smile on his face, and started walking over to me. His penis had to be about 10 inches long, and it was now erect. I knew I was in for it. I now understood why my butt plug had been removed. The guards were lined up outside the cell to watch, and started hooting and hollering words of encouragement to the big guy.
The guy took a good look at me, at all the scars and bruises. Then he stepped back and punched me in the stomach. That blow knocked me off my feet and sent me flying against the bars. The guards let out a cheer. I was dazed. The guy walked over, picked me up, and threw me down on the cot, face down. Then he got over me from behind. He didn’t work fingers into my ass, or prepare it in any way. He just thrust his 10 inches in and started moving it in and out, rocking back and forth.
I knew it was coming, so I steeled myself not to let out any noise. I’d had cocks in my rear end before, most recently Alexander’s during the test, but nothing as massive as this one. It felt like my rear end was going to explode. He reached my prostate, and I tried getting hard, not possible with the chastity still on. But this wasn’t an enjoyable experience. It was brutal rape, pure and simple. The guy was loving it, and the guards were loving it. I sure wasn’t.
Finally the guy exploded into my butt. On and on he went. He probably hadn’t been able to erupt in many days, considering how much there was pent up that he let out. Finally he was finished, and plopped down onto me. The guy had a big, pleasurable smile on his face. I found myself crying. I hadn’t done that in years, not since I was a child.
The cell door opened, and with guns drawn, they put cuffs back on the guy and put the chastity back on him. The guy now had a hurt look on his face as he saw my reaction. He was pulled off me and taken to the side of the cell while I was pulled back onto my feet and marched out. I was marched out of the cell and down to my cell, marched in, and laid down on my cot. My cell mate was still not there. I dropped off to sleep almost immediately from sheer exhaustion. My last thought before falling asleep was that there was still one more demerit yet to be worked off. Since smiley differentiated the guards’ demerits from the one incurred by the play room guy, I figured I was going to be seeing Hans again, and figured I knew what I would be experiencing there.
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Excellent once more….
I really like this bodybag with internal spikes…
does it exist for real?
I’ve talked to a guy who witnessed someone being put into one.
ho excellent!
was th guy bleeding much???
It was Daltonott of seriousbondage that told me. He said that the sack was custom made by Jim Stewart many years ago. It had spikes at the muscles, but not at the bones. He said that they were sharp enough to penetrate the skin and cause bleeding, but that he wasn’t there when the guy came out. He also said that Mister-S used to sell thin leather pads with spikes sticking out for people to make there own spikes sacks by inserting them in the proper locations. Whether Mister-S still sells them, he didn’t know.
That sleepsack sound fun but without the beating this is a great story