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 X11 The new prisoners learn the rules
Pierre realised as he made his way to his bed that night that his rapport with the Prison Doctor and, indeed, the Doctor's invitation for Pierre to participate in the ravishing of the two selected prisoners, indicated his acceptance in the inner circle of the vast web of officials who operated the prison and slave businesses. Excited by the prospect of what the morning held, Pierre's mind raced as it thought up all forms of ways in which the business, and his role within it, might be enhanced.
Fodder for the prison and therefore slaves for sale was not going to be an issue. The prospect of hostilities would increase the flow of flesh to the prison and even war would not inhibit the routes by which discarded and sold prisoners might reach their eventual destination. No, Pierre realised that the only issues were those of maintaining the spectacles which assisted in satisfying the lascivious needs of the prison's clients and the need to be able to accommodate an vast increase in prisoner numbers.
It was the second of these that Pierre's mind first hit upon a solution. Being an educated man, Pierre realised that the increased accommodation provided by putting additional bunks in the cells was only a stopgap measure. Sooner, rather than later, the accommodation would prove inadequate. Thinking of the two prisoners who would be punished in the morning, Pierre pictured them manacled to their beds. Pierre was idling stroking his semi erect organ when the solution surfaced in his consciousness. The prison blocks had been built of stone and in the centre of every third cell were an exposed steel beam that was often used as a means of suspending prisoners who were to be taught their manners in the privacy of their own cell (and without due legal process). This meant that the side walls of the cells were therefore not supporting the floor above. With delight, Pierre filed the information away for reference in the morning.
Pierre continued to stroke himself as he then thought of various means of adding to the visual displays put on by recalcitrant prisoners as they were paraded and duly punished. Pierre fell asleep as he thought about the limitations of the punishment block. He slept well.
Some distance away, as Pierre fell asleep, Felix and his companions were struggling to get some rest - unaccustomed to being forced to sleep with their hands manacled to the heads of their beds. Continual adjustments were required to overcome cramping and they tossed restlessly. Felix has an additional problem of a full bladder and no means of addressing the ever-increasing need for relief since none of the guards would hear his cries through the solid walls and thick iron door.
The morning sun arose to find the prison a beehive of activity and Felix lying on a soggy mattress. The guards said nothing as the mattress was thrown out of the door after they had unchained Franz, Gaston and Felix. They led the three to the showers where they joined the other new arrivals that were being thoroughly cleansed inside and out before being issued their new tight fitting prison uniforms.
As groups finished their ablutions and got dressed, they were led away to be fed and it was in one of the last groups which Felix found himself walking towards the vast auditorium in which a dull roar pervaded the air although no one was actually talking. As he entered, Felix was pulled to one side by one of the guards and led towards the stage, which occupied the front wall of the room. Felix tried to struggle as his eyed registered the whipping bench that stood in the centre of the stage, but his resistance only caused the guard to take a firmer grip on his arm as he was pulled towards his fate.
As Felix was dragged forward, and eerie silence fell over the room as the prisoners watched - some knowing full well what was to come and the new arrivals fearful of what seemed to be happening.
As the guard reached the bottom of the stairs leading up to the platform, another guard approached.
"What have we here?' asked the guard.
"Wet himself," replied the guard who was holding Felix's arm.
"Come with me lad," said the first guard. "Let's get this over with."
His arm freed from the vicelike grip, Felix's instinct was to bolt from the room but as he turned to run, reality hit the young lad - there was no place to run. Suddenly, the tears, which Felix had been holding in since he first entered the prison, flooded forth and he crumpled in a heap at the foot of the stairs.
A guard pulled Felix to his feet and quietly whispered: "Head up kid, everyone breaks down here but try to remember where you are. You don't want everyone thinking you're soft. Now come with me."
The silence in the room was deafening to Felix as he let himself be guided up the stairs and led to the bench. Hands pushed Felix down onto the bench and his hands and feet were secured.
Felix shuddered as he saw a hand carrying a thick leather strap pass in front of him. After what seemed an eternity, a loud 'crack' echoed through the vast room. For an instant, Felix thought that the blow had landed elsewhere but a sudden bolt of searing pain quickly exploded in his brain causing Felix's body to convulse and his breath to be sucked from his lungs.
The second blow registered immediately and Felix gasped for air as he tried to stop twisting and turning as the pain in his buttocks intensified.
A steady rain of blows continued as Felix's head and body twisted this way and that and his lungs emitted cries of pain.
The beating was completed quickly and Felix did not even register the fact that he had survived ten lashes. His hands were and feet were released and he was assisted to his feet. His hands flew to the fire in his backside but Felix could do nothing to relieve the pain as he was escorted from the stage. The room suddenly resumed its deafening roaring sound as the watching prisoners went about their business and Felix was led to the table where Franz and Gaston were seated. Felix gingerly lowered his throbbing backside onto the bench as someone pushed a plate of food in front of him.
As Felix tried to eat some of the food before him, many eyes were focussed on him. Some belonged to men who lusted after the handsome youth. Others belonged to men and boys who had, either through punishment or unwanted _s_e_x_ual experiences, tender or painful posteriors. While Felix dwelled within his own world of pain, the other prisoners' emotions covered the whole gamut of feelings from lust to relief that it was Felix and not they and the other extreme, pity.
Deiter was in the audience and having spent a painful night entertaining one of the soldiers who had escorted the new prisoners to their fate, he felt little sympathy for young Felix. Likewise, Christian was so absorbed in his own pain from the previous night he gave scant attention to Felix's discomfort.
Alex and Kurt had a totally different reaction. Having been denied any opportunity for _s_e_x_, the sight of Felix's lightly clad buttocks jumping to the tune of the strap had caused them to be highly aroused, as were Gaston and Franz. Each of the four, and many others in the hall at the time, could feel a damp spot in the front of their tight shorts which bore testimony to their reaction to the view.
Some distance away, having completed a pleasant breakfast, Pierre sought an audience with the Warden and the Judge, the latter having spent the night rather than travelling through the dark back to his home. The warmth of his greeting confirmed in Pierre's mind his feeling of acceptance within the higher echelons of the business.
As soon as an opportunity presented itself, Pierre sought leave to table his idea.
"Your Honour, Your Excellency," Pierre began, "I have been thinking of how we might accommodate more prisoners within the current prison blocks."
Before he could continue, the Warden interrupted him: "My dear Pierre, we have all applied our minds to the problems we face of overcrowding and we simply cannot afford to build more space. We thanks you for considering the issue, but it simply cannot be done."
"Your Excellency," replied Pierre, convinced of his own ideas, "please hear me out."
The Warden signalled with a wave of his hand that Pierre should feel free to speak and Pierre accepted the implied challenge.
"Sirs," said Pierre, "I have been considering the structure of the cells. Every third cell has an exposed beam in its centre. This suggests that the side walls of the cells are not supporting the floor above. This further suggests that we could turn any number of cells into a large dormitory by removing the side walls. We could then add additional beds because each of the walls is very thick - at least half the width of a bed. Moreover, since the cross beams which support the ceiling are quite clearly founded upon separate pillars, the front walls of the cells could be moved to the outside of the walkway. I have paced out the distances this morning and I am certain that we could double the holding capacity of the cells by having a central aisle and beds on either side. Without the need for individual doors, we could more than double the holding capacity of each floor."
Having finished his explanation, Pierre waited nervously for some response and the silence that ensued caused him to sweat a little.
Finally the Warden spoke. "Pierre," he said, "you astonish me. It is so obvious, I feel ashamed that none of us thought of it. Thank you so much."
Pierre exhaled a sigh of relief that his idea had some merit and that he had not overlooked some simple problem that would render it useless. As the Judge moved towards him and patted him on the back, Pierre felt on top of the world.
Pierre's moment of glory was short-lived as work had to be done. He, the Warden and the Judge left the Warden's office so that they might oversee the deployment of the prison's new inmates.
They arrived in the courtyard as the prisoners started to assemble following their repast and the Warden directed one of the senior guards to segregate the new prisoners. This done, the twenty-three prisoners who had been adjudged to be unsuitable for meeting the private needs of the prison's invited guests were sent to join other work parties and were quickly sent out into the fields.
Alex and Kurt had been escorted to the adjacent wing that held the apartments in which the prison's clients came to find pleasure and were tied to beds so that they might not pleasure themselves. Franz, Felix and Gaston were separated from the balance of the new arrivals, the latter being sent to work in the prison laundry - unaware of the fate that would befall them in due course.
Franz, Felix and Gaston were taken to rooms adjacent to that in which Alex and Kurt were confined to await the arrival of several special visitors who the Judge had invited to lunch. The three felt anxious, especially Felix and Franz who were sentenced to a beating. Gaston, knowing that he was not there to await punishment, was puzzled by his presence.
During the morning, the prisoners in the fields and the laundry were kept under close supervision. The guards noted any slight error in each prisoner's behaviour and recorded the name and offence in small books that they kept for that purpose.
Late in the morning a group of specially invited guests arrived at the main prison entrance and were greeted by the Warden, Dr Weiss and Pierre. After exchanging pleasantries the group was taken to a fine dining room that overlooked the central courtyard. A balcony overlooking the courtyard was accessible though French doors.
When the newly arrived prisoners returned from the fields and had been assembled in the courtyard to observe the punishments due to Felix and Franz, the Warden escorted his guests onto the balcony where chairs had been arranged to enable the small group to witness the spectacle in comfort.
Felix and Franz had no idea of what was to befall them and were startled when four guards entered the room in which they had been held and released them from their fetters. The guards then escorted them down the stairs and into the courtyard.
Felix and Franz new as they approached the platform in the centre of the courtyard that their surreptitious conversation the previous evening had not gone unnoticed. The guards led them up the stairs onto the platform where the whipping block stood ominously.
Felix and Franz were ordered to strip off their clothes as their offence - speaking without permission -and punishment - ten strokes- was announced.
Felix trembled as he removed his pants for his backside was still very tender from the punishment he had received earlier that morning.
Franz was somewhat less scared by the ordeal to come but was obviously embarrassed by being forced to strip in front of the assembled prisoners.
Tears were already in Felix's eyes as he was led to the block and secured. His buttocks were still quite red and more than a little swollen - a sight which excited even Franz.
Having regards to the future use that had been planned by Dr Weiss for young Felix, the overseer selected a fairly light strap from the available instruments and took up his position.
Felix struggled futilely as he heard the footsteps approach. A hush fell over the assembly as the guard raised the strap and sent it sailing into Felix's tender backside. Felix let out a cry almost immediately as the pain surged through his arse. That cry gradually turned to screams as time and again the strap visited the swollen buttocks and by the time the final stroke had been delivered, Felix was beside himself in pain.
Franz's organ had swollen quite noticeably during the punishment and he tried to will it to subside as Felix was released and assisted from the block. Franz's mental efforts came to nought but when he saw the guard replace the strap and pick up a rather thick but supple cane his body seemed to shrink in fear.
Franz was escorted to the block and tied securely. Eager onlookers on the balcony above leaned forward in anticipation.
The guard took several steps back and then, with obvious practice, did a slight run as he swung the cane behind him almost parallel to the ground and then swung it forward with all his might as he reached a position adjacent to the prisoner. The cane sliced into Franz's backside with such force as to push him against the block.
Unlike the strap, it took a moment for the pain to register in Franz's brain but the intensity of that pain shocked Franz to the core. Determined not to give his punisher the satisfaction of any the agony that seared across his buttocks, Franz concentrated on holding his breath.
The guard wielding the cane was more than equal to the challenge posed by Franz's silence and by the time three parallel lines had appeared across Franz's buttocks, he smiled as the first feint sound leaked from Franz's throat.
Franz new that he was losing the battle of wills. The tears that had blurred his vision were of no consequence but he tried his hardest to avoid crying out. When the fourth stroke landed and a grunt escaped from his chest, Franz gave up the battle. The fifth stroke brought forth a sharp whimper and each additional stroke produced a louder and higher pitched cry. Franz was not counting the strokes but sobbed in relief when the beating was completed. When released from his bonds, Franz eased himself from the block and, as quickly as the pain permitted, restored his clothes.
The assembled prisoners were ushered to the dining hall for their lunch while Felix and Franz were taken back to the wing from which they had come not knowing they were about to provide additional entertainment for the Warden and his guests.