The Prison XVII
Warning: This story is a work of fiction. It contains graphic descriptions of punishments, non-consensual homo_s_e_x_ual activity (including _s_e_x_ with characters who would be regarded as minors ie above the age of 16 but under the age of 21) and other matters, which are unsuitable for minors. DO NOT READ if such material is considered offensive or unpalatable or if it is illegal to do so in your jurisdiction. The original story was typed in 1984 and is extremely loosely based on German texts of the early 20th century.
Chapter 17: The passage of time - work details
During the months that followed, various groups of prisoners found themselves in a variety of circumstances not all of which were necessarily unpleasant. The young men and boys found that they could survive most situations provided they were obedient. Some of the landed gentry who hired the prisoners simply left them to go about their assigned work and trouble only ensued if they were tardy or disrespectful. Other clients of the prison were less interested in the work that the prisoners performed than in the power that they could wield over human beings.
Deiter, Kurt and Alex were assigned one day to one such landowner who found fault with almost every duty they were assigned. The man in question was a Slav by birth whose name was Pytor. With great wealth accumulated from the sale of inferior quality food at inflated prices to both the Army and the prison, Pytor revelled in his capacity to use the prisoners as his mood took him.
The three lads felt the full fury of Ptyor's wanton brutality one day following a less than acceptably profitable series of trading transactions. Pytor returned to his large stone house full of anger and lashed out at the first opportunity.
Kurt had been taking a drink at the well in the rear of the house when Pytor burst upon the scene. Disregarding the sweat, which evidenced Kurt's hard labour at cutting firewood, Pytor flew into a rage, accusing Kurt of ignoring his duties and ordered Kurt to proceed to the large barn some distance from the house.
Kurt saw the anger in his master's eyes and knew better than to plead his innocence. With shoulders slumped, he obey and made his way to the great doors of the barn. Ordered to remove his clothes, Kurt obeyed, slowly stripping off his vest and his pants while Pytor entered the barn.
Naked and frightened, Kurt stood in the warm sun and waited.
When his master left the barn, Kurt needed to take only a quick look at the buggy whip that Pytor held to know that a severe beating was about to be inflicted.
Pytor ordered Kurt to stand with his legs apart and his arms outstretched.
"You will not move, dog," Pytor yelled as he moved within striking distance of his naked victim.
Kurt braced himself as best he could for the blows that would inevitable follow but when the first 'crack' of the whip landed across his back, the force of the blow, yet alone the pain, was enough to cause Kurt to stumble forward.
"I told you not to move, boy," yelled Kurt's tormentor who proceeded to lay the thin whip several times across Kurt's naked backside. Kurt yelled at the pain that tore through him but held his position until one savage blow caught his left buttock and the tip of the whip lashed the flesh deep between his arse cheeks. At that instant all thoughts of remaining still evaporated and Kurt clutched his backside and jumped away to avoid further blows.
Enraged, Pytor followed Kurt's movement, slashing the whip with senseless abandon across his back, chest, thighs and abdomen. Within moments, Kurt was reduced to a pleading wreck lying at Pytor's feet in a foetal position.
The lashing had excited Pytor but the wretched form at his feet was in no condition to satisfy his appetites. Leaving Kurt sobbing on the ground, Pytor stormed off to the house to find another victim.
Dieter was in one of the large rooms on the ground floor dutifully polishing the exposed timber. He was oblivious to what had happened outside, the stone walls having cut out all sound. Deiter was caught by surprise when his master stormed into the room, covered in sweat from his exertions.
Deiter looked up in astonishment at the sudden arrival of his master, which was all the excuse that Pytor required.
"You are meant to be working, boy, not gawking," yelled Pytor. "Now get your clothes off immediately and I shall show you who is master here."
Deiter stood up and began undressing quickly, looking apprehensively at the whip that Pytor held and the traces of someone's blood that had marked Pytor's white shirt.
Pytor's anger subsided somewhat as he watched the handsome youth disrobe and cast aside the bloodied whip. Pytor tore off his own shirt as the now naked Deiter stood before him and then strode from the room in search of a suitable instrument with which to chastise the prisoner.
Deiter trembled as Pytor returned, carrying a thin cane. He watched as his master strode down the length of the room and pulled a heavy chair from against one of the side walls and placed it directly in the centre of the room.
Pytor returned and stood to admire the naked, handsome youth before him. He walked behind his victim and ran his hand over the luscious buttocks of the lad. Snorting his approval, he then moved into Deiter's view and pointed the cane towards the chair.
Deiter knew what was required and walked with a clam a step as possible to the chair. He then lent over the timber back of the chair and grasped the seat on the other side, thus presenting his backside to his executioner.
Pytor grunted in satisfaction, took a short run, raised the cane and delivered a vicious slash across Deiter's rump. Seeing no response from his victim, Pytor returned to his starting point and repeated the process, leaving a second bright red weal across Deiter's backside. A third and fourth stroke were delivered before Deiter let out the first cry of pain but its volume was insufficient to sate the huge man's passion.
Pytor delivered three more strokes of the cane, drawing feint traces of blood where the lines intersected and each blow brought a stronger cry from his victim.
About to deliver a tenth stroke, Pytor's anger was overtaken by his lust. He walked to the bent over naked lad and quickly lowered his own trousers. Without any preliminary preparation, he then viciously speared his erect organ to its hilt within the helpless Deiter.
Deiter was used to pain and the beating had been no worse than many he had endured, but the sudden impalement caused a red mist of pain to cloud his brain and a loud bellow erupted from his chest and rent the air. That cry served only to increase the viciousness of his assailant's attack and Pytor pounded away at his victim for quite some time, exerting all his self control to avoid a quick climax. When finally he erupted, Deiter felt as if his innards were being flooded.
Pytor's lust was satisfied to a greater extent than he had expected. He had intended to seek out another victim but his needs had been satisfied. Roughly, he withdrew from Deiter's body and strode from the room to clean himself. Deiter, numb with pain and horror at the brutality of the assault, lowered himself to the floor and crawled to where his clothed rested and prepared to dress and then purge his body of the unwanted fluid deep within his bowels.
Pytor left the prisoner alone for the remainder of the day and all three were relieved when transport arrived to take them back to the prison. What they didn't know was that the brutish Pytor was to accompany them on the journey and when they saw him climb aboard, their relief turned to fear.
Some twenty prisoners were on the transport as it made its way in through the grim grey walls of the prison. Such was the brutal nature of their existence that few of the prisoners took any notice of the dried bloody streaks which showed upon Kurt's shirt or the discomfort which Deiter was feeling as they bounced across the rough terrain and then the cobblestones of the courtyard. When ordered to do so, the prisoners alighted and assembled in a ragged line awaiting the order to return to their cells.
Kurt, Deiter and Alex watched out of the corners of their eyes as their particular tormentor strode to the most senior of the guards present and talked animatedly to him. The three, as well as the rest of their company, were conscious of the presence of Pierre's evil contraption, which stood some distance from where they were assembled. Each feared that the cross might be about to have a visitor and that fear increased as one of the guards was dispatched to the administration wing.
The Warden, Dr Weiss and Pierre were sipping sherry in the Warden's office when the guard arrived. Imparting the message he had been given, the guard left and the three administrators finished their drinks and then rose and moved out to the courtyard. The Warden was immediately set upon by Pytor who complained about the unsatisfactory and disrespectful nature of the prisoners that had been assigned to work at his home. Pytor bellowed that he had been forced to administer some minor chastisement to two of the prisoner but had been so frustrated that he had not even bothered with the third. He demanded that all three be properly disciplined.
Kurt, Deiter and Alex could see but not hear the Pytor's ranting but correctly assumed the worst. They are their fellow prisoner also noted that the driver of their transport had handed the Warden some correspondence.
The Warden assured Pytor that justice would prevail and then read the letter that had been handed to him. The letter was from one of the landowners and contained a report of an attempt by one of the prisoners to force his attention on the landowner's daughter. Franz was the subject of the letter of complaint but stood at the end of the line of prisoners, oblivious to the fact that he stood accused. He though fond thoughts of the farmer's daughter who had fondled and kissed him whist he was picking fruit in the orchard. His mind was occupied with trying to work out how he might develop a more intimate association with the girl who obviously had taken more than a passing liking to him, when he felt the hands of one of the guards take hold of his arm.
Startled, Franz tried to pull away but the guard's grip held firm and Franz was led to the Warden. Guards also escorted Kurt, Deiter and Alex to the Warden's presence.
"Well, boy," said the Warden to the bewildered Franz, "attempting to seduce the farmer's daughter and indecently exposing yourself, I am informed. You shall visit the cross. Take him away!"
Franz was marched towards the cross and, as he shed his clothes, pieced together the reality of his predicament. The farmer must have seen what transpired with his daughter and had all but accused Franz of rape. The only consolation which Franz could take as he stood naked before the instrument upon which he was to be punished was that no actual allegation of rape had been made. Such an assertion would have been enough to lead him to the gallows.
As Franz shivered in the cooling night breeze, the Warden was berating Kurt, Deiter and Alex. Alex, who had barely caught sight of Pytor during the day was disposed to protest his innocence but a quick glance at Dr Weiss and the sadistic sneer which he received in return convinced Alex that protest would only make things worse.
Within minutes, the three prisoners stood naked beside Franz, facing the cross.
Dr Weiss and Pierre moved closer to the four offenders and noticed that Kurt and Deiter displayed obvious signs of physical punishment, contrary to the assertion of Pytor that he had not punished them. Weiss spoke quietly to the Warden, suggesting that the cane not be visited upon Deiter's posterior. "The strap should suffice," he said "and it should not cause much more bleeding."
Pointing to Franz, the Warden ordered that he be tied to the cross. Franz went quietly to his doom, resiled to the facts of the situation, if not its justice. The ratchets on the beams supporting his arms were released and the upper part of his body was forced downward, leaving his posterior and legs parallel to the ground. The Warden then directed that Franz's legs be spread as far apart as possible and the order was carried out with such force as to cause Franz considerable pain as the tendons were stretched beyond their normal position.
Everyone had seen punishments upon the device created by Pierre and knew what to expect. From the large box set near the cross, which carried the various instruments of punishment (other than the birches which were separately soaking in brine), the Warden selected two short-tailed whips. He handed the whips to two guards.
Franz could not see much apart from the ground immediately in front of his face but shuddered at the sound of the whips flailing through the air as the two guards practiced their swings.
"Three dozen lashes to the buttocks and thighs!" declared the Warden and the two burly guards took up their positions on either side of the cross.
The lashing started. One of the guards began by targeting Franz's backside whilst the other commenced by aiming at Franz's inner thigh and the back of his left leg.
When the first blow arrived struck his backside, Franz thought that he had been stung by any number of bees and bucked in response but when the other whip slashed into his leg and wrapped itself into his inner thigh, Franz could barely contain himself and left out a fearful cry of pain.
The whipping continued with one guard working his way down and the other moving his blows in the opposite direction. Franz was beside himself with the pain and for quite a few blows emitted loud cries but as the count grew, his energy was sapped and by the final blow he was almost delirious.
The guards moved to untie the wretched form slumped upon the punishment cross and helped Franz to his feet.
"Now, tie him face up," commanded the Warden "and we shall teach him a lesson he shall not quickly forget."
Franz almost collapsed as his lacerated backside hit the cushion in the centre of the cross. As soon as his arms and legs were secured, the full nature of his vulnerability sank in. He bucked vigorously in a futile attempt to free himself as the Warden took a whip from one of the guards.
Franz's privates hung between his outstretched legs. His oversized member presented a target, even in its flaccid state, which seemed to invite attention and it was to that portion of his anatomy that the Warden directed his blows.
The lashes of the whip pulled Franz's member to the side with each blow and the tips of the lashes struck his tender testicles. Franz's shrieks of pain echoed around the courtyard, seemingly filling every nook and cranny with the piteous sound. His organ quickly became swollen and small cuts released drops of blood but the Warden did not relent until a full dozen blows had been delivered.
Released, Franz could do nothing other than fall to the ground clutching his tortured privates. Although Franz could have sworn that his privates had been damaged beyond repair, the truth of the matter was that the Warden's lashes had inflicted no permanent damage.
The Warden threw the whip to one of the attending guards to be cleaned and directed that Franz be removed. Two guards obliged and cleared the area so that further justice might be dispensed.
Deiter soon found himself spread-eagled and partially bent over at his waist and securely fastened to the cross. He felt the cool air sweep across his exposed hole and knew as a guard approached with a strap that an obvious target had been presented to his masters. Deiter took some comfort that a cane was not to be used for his buttocks sported livid weals from the earlier punishment.
Dr Weiss, who was quite taken by Deiter's charms, noticed some fluid leaking from the lad's already aggravated hole. Although not disposed to charity, the Doctor instructed the guard to apply the strap across the lad's cheeks and to avoid the end from hitting his nether hole.
Given the obvious signs of abuse, Deiter's punishment was mercifully swift and comparatively light, but nonetheless the lad was sobbing by the time a dozen lashes had been applied.
Kurt's beating was equally brief and merciful for the signs of the whipping he had endured were obvious for all to see.
As Kurt was being removed from the cross the Doctor approached Alex.
"Well my boy," whispered the doctor in Alex's ear. "You have a choice since you have clearly not been abused by that monstrous Slav. I can have the Warden order a severe thrashing or I can suggest just a dozen strokes."
Alex looked quizzically at the Doctor as if he did not comprehend the Doctor's meaning.
"Spend the night in pleasuring me, Alex," whispered the Doctor "and I shall see to it that no more than a dozen strokes will be ordered. Just nod you head if you agree to the bargain."
Alex was bewildered by the proposition for he could be forced to pleasure the Doctor no matter how many strokes were applied. What he could not fathom was that the Doctor had no need of a severely thrashed victim that night. What he could work out was that a dozen strokes of the cane was preferable to the normal beating which appeared to excite his tormentors. Alex nodded his head.
As Alex was secured on the cross and his naked body spread-eagled parallel to the ground, Weiss talked quietly to Pierre and the Warden.
Alex watched with a sort of morbid fascination as the men conferred. He heard the sentence "A dozen strokes with the strap" and with surprising calmness watched as one of the guards moved forward to select the instrument.
Slowly the guard surveyed the rather pretty sight of his naked victim and then raised the strap.
Alex's body bucked as the first 'crack' echoed around the courtyard. The pain, which followed almost instantly, was no worse that Alex had expected or indeed had endured on many other occasions.
The guard waited until Alex's body was still before delivering the second stroke. As blow after blow was delivered, Alex's reactions were more pronounced and his backside quickly changed from pink to red.
By the time the final stroke was delivered, Alex's backside was a fiery crimson colour and was already showing signs on swelling - just the condition Dr Weiss had wanted for he and Pierre wanted a very tender backside with which to play that night.
Alex was untied and the assembled prisoners were led away. In accordance with his contract, Alex followed Dr Weiss and Pierre into the adjacent wing while the other prisoners went back to the cells. Alex clutched his backside as he went to complete his agreement, concerned mainly that Pierre was accompanying Dr Weiss. Alex had expected that only he would have to accommodate the needs of the Doctor alone. Having ridden Pierre's shaft before, Pierre's presence added an entirely different dimension to Alex's predicament.