Ever since he was a little boy, Sam had wanted to backpack across Europe. The travel brochures and books he read just added fuel to his desire. He was able to convince his parents that he should be allowed to spend some of his summer money, and try out his dream. He pointed out to them that if, he had to wait until he graduated, he would never do it, and never have this great adventure to rely on. So, here he was, 2 months out of high school, standing at the border crossing into Slovakia, where he had just been told that his student visa would not allow allow him to enter.
In all his 17 years, he had never run up against such a brick wall as that border guard. Being the type of kid who would not take no for an answer, he proceeded to walk East, along the border fence. He walked until evening, and finally found a hole in the fence through which he shoved his backpack, and quickly crawled. He was so proud of himself that he did not even take the time to look around and see the outline of a jeep like vehicle with two soldiers in it not 200 feet away. It was not until the jeep's headlights caught him like a rabbit in a trap, that he realized he was in trouble. He tried to crawl back, but his backpack got in the way. In desperation, he threw it through the hole, and started to crawl through himself, when he felt strong hands on his feet pulling him back. The soldiers stood him up, and in some sort of gutteral language, start to yell at him, and even punch him a few times. He tried to speak English, but they either could not speak it, or would not. He was forced into the jeep, and driven back to the very same border check point that he had tried to cross before. He did not have his passport or papers, as he had thrown them through the hole in his escape attempt. He soon came face to face with the same guard who had turned him away earlier. He knew that that guard knew he was an American student, and thought he would be thrown back across the border. Instead, he heard them speaking, and could hear a few English words like "spy" and "shot". He was so scared that he was quivering. The older guard shoved him into the guardhouse, and locked him into a small room at the rear, which appeared to be some sort of living quarters. He lost track of how long he was left there, as they had taken his watch. Sometime, in the wee hours of the morning, the guard came back. It was apparent that he had been drinking, and was quite happy with himself. He was told to stand up, and the guard then told him to remove his shoes and hand them to him. He did so, and was shocked when the guard took out a large knife, and sliced the soles off of the shoes. He heard him say "no contriband". Then, he was told to hand over his jacket, which had its pockets torn off, and the shoulders cut through. A similar fate happened to his shirt. He was then told to hand over his trousers. He sighed, and did so. All of his pocket contents had been removed and taken, when he was "patted down" after he arrived. The guard cut out the fly, and cut off the front and rear pockets of his pants. Basically, he had a pair of pants left that had openings in the front, sides, and rear. Next he had to throw over his socks, which were also ripped through, then his tee shirt, which was torn into strips, and finally, he was made to throw over his jockey shorts, which were destroyed also.
He was livid, but knew that he could do nothing. The guard made him raise his hands over his head, and patted him down again. He was made to bend over a table, and the guard pulled out a worn pair of rubber gloves. He felt his ass cheeks part, as the guard first spit on his glove, and then shoved a finger as far up into his hole as he could. The figer moved about, searching, and massaging at the same time. He felt his penis rise, which was the very last thing he wanted to happen. Then, the guard suddenly pulled his finger out of his hole, and then shoved two fingers up as fast and as far as he could. Sam had never felt anything up there before, and he screamed out in pain and fear. The guard then grabbed his sack, and squeezed his balls telling him to shut up, that there was nobody to scream for, but that he was going to see to it that Sam remembered his country, and that he soon would have something to scream about. He quickly pulled out his fingers, and stood up. He stripped off the glove and told Sam that he was going to be punished for trespass. He told him that he could be shot as a spy, but that he preferred to just hang young boys who thought they could pull one over on him.
Sam heard the word "hang" and his heart stopped. He was taken by the guard to another room, where a noose was hanging from a ceiling beam. Beneath the noose, was a low wooden stepping ladder. Sam was told to climb the ladder, and put the noose about his own neck. He almost passed out in fear, so much so that he lost control of his bladder, and peed all over the floor. The guard pulled him off of the ladder, threw him on the floor into his own puddle, and made him clean it up with the torn clothes that he had cut off of Sam earlier.
Sam was sobbing, and knew that he presented quite a picture to the guard, as he knelt down in front of him as he cleaned up the floor. Sam knew that the guard was standing behind him starring at his butt, butthole, bag, and increasingly erect penis. He felt his only means to keep alive was to entertain the guard, so he cleaned as he swayed his butt back and forth. He even strained to move his cheeks apart, in the hope of arousing the guard.
The guard suddenly told him to stop, and forced him onto the ladder again. This time, however, he pulled the noose down and fastened Sam's hands together with it. He then shoved him off of the ladder. Sam couldn't believe the pain in his wrists as he hung, suspended some 6 inches above the ground. He could just touch the ground with his toes if he arched his feet. Then, he saw something that caused his heart to skip a beat in fear. The guard walked up to him and showed him a leather paddle. It was dark in color, about a yard long in total, with about two feet of actual paddle, and a one foot handle. He saw that there were what appeared to be hundreds of small holes drilled in the paddle. The guard chuckled, and swung him around. Sam heard the rush of wind, and a peculiar whirring sound before he felt the kiss of the paddle. His butt had been hit high, near the top. He felt the burning pain seep into his butt cheeks as another stroke hit, just under the first. This too caught him by surprise and seemed to knock the wind out of him. He felt the paddle as it was used to slowly caress his burning buttocks with a fire that he could have never imagined. He tried to remove his mind, to think of pleasant thoughts, as the paddle continued it's assault on his defenseless cheeks. Nothing could remove him from the pain. It grew, as the paddle made its way down his butt. Finally, the whipping stopped. He felt the paddle being placed gently against his butt, right at the top of his thighs. Then, it was removed, and he was hit with a stroke that took his breath away. He could not even scream, it hurt so much. This seemed to anger the guard, who simply repeated the stroke, in the exact place, for 12 more times. Sam could feel something warm running down his legs. He felt it had to be his blood, but was really just beads of sweat from his back which dripped off of his swollen butt cheeks. He passed out.
When he awoke, he found himself naked, halfway through the hole in the border fence, just as daylight was coming. He could see his backpack, and tried to pull himself through. It was then that he felt the savage pain in his butt. His butt cheeks were on fire, but his butthole also hurt terribly. He felt as if something was in it, but due to the size of the fence hole, he could not reach back. He pulled himself through the hole, rolled onto his side, and rubbed his butt. He then felt something. He did indeed have something in his hole. It was huge, whatever it was. He pulled on it, and heard a sort of plopping sound as it came free. He pulled it into his sight, and found it was the paddle that he had been spanked with. It was torn almost in half, and the handle part had been roughly shoved up his butt. He could only guess that his terrible whipping had caused the paddle to break, and that the guard just shoved it up him when he left it there. He crawled to his backpack, took out the only change of chothes he had, rubbed some lotion on his horribly welted butt cheeks, and finally was able to stand up and make his way back towards "civilization". His route took him past the guardhouse, and as he limped along, he could see the guard on the front porch punching holes into a new piece of leather. He stared in amazement as the guard finally looked up, and smiled at him. Sam knew that there was nothing he could do, he had no proof that anything had happened to him, and if he pursued anything, he could be arrested as a trespasser. Hitching his packpack, he turned slowly, ran his hand across his butt, and walked away, to the sound of laughter.