Chapter 6: Kristofer progresses, Damien is flogged and Hans and I visit Falkenfels Prison Camp.
Hans and I returned to our home to find that the prisoners had been extremely diligent in completing their assigned tasks and our dinner that night was devoid of any tension, which made a welcome relief for all. While the disciplining of our prisoners was a _s_e_x_ual aphrodisiac for Han and I, the need to impose and execute corporal punishment could become tiresome for our relationship had many other dimensions than just a disciplined lifestyle.
After dinner, while Hans finished some paperwork in his study, I took Kristofer to our bedroom and showered with him.
Naked on the bed, I stroked Kristofer's damp hair and lifted his face so that he was looking into my eyes.
"Kristofer," I said gently, "you seemed to enjoy your experience last night. How do you feel about it?"
Sir," he said quietly, "I did enjoy some of it I must admit but I really am frightened."
I stroked his lithe body softly and took his hand and laid it in my crotch.
"Doing it here with Hans and I is a lot better than the alternative which is to try and survive in a Prison Camp," I said simply. "You put yourself in this position and now you have to make a choice. Hans and I are not going to rape you but either you are going to accept our attentions or you can elect to go to Camp. It's you choice, but you have to make up your mind right here and now."
I could almost hear the replay of Rupert's violation in the cells by Thierry as it went off in Kristofer's mind and was not at all surprised when, after a couple of minute in which I said and did nothing, Kristofer moved away and then placed his mouth on my swelling organ.
"Smart choice," I said and I started to caress his hair as his head bobbed up and down and sweet pleasure started to sweep over me.
Kristofer was clumsy and inexperienced and I gradually coached him in the art and even reciprocated until the boy was fully aroused.
Kristofer's fear returned and he became far less compliant when I started to introduce a lubricated finger into his virgin hole. He cried out briefly as the first knuckle entered and I took the process of relaxing him slowly. I spent quite some time preparing him but knew that the inevitable penetration was going to be painful and upsetting for the lad and when he was as relaxed as I thought he would get I moved my organ into position.
Kristofer whimpered at the simple touch of the head against his hole and he tensed up quite noticeably. Trying to make it easier on the boy, I instructed him on how to relax and the benefits that would bring as I pulled some pillows under his midriff and pushed his torso onto the bed.
Unfortunately for the lad, his body simply refused to relax and I had quite a struggle making the initial breach and he cried out sharply as the head of my member broke through the portal. I remained quite still, savouring the warmth and the conquest while I allowed the boy to try and adjust to the intrusion but he fought to resist and I had no option but to plough into him to spare him a long and agonising penetration. He cried out inconsolably as I went about the task.
When I was totally imbedded in Kristofer's rectum, I stopped and savoured the tightness and warmth and tried to sooth the sobbing lad.
"Kris," I said, using a nickname for the first time, "that is the worst of it. Now, if you can just relax and concentrate on the warmth and the feeling of my _c_o_c_k_ on your prostate you might start enjoying this."
The lad sobbed but I proceeded to draw out and began a slow steady rhythm on love-making. I concentrated as best I could on massaging his prostate as much as possible and was gratified when I reached under him to find the boy was starting to become aroused. Imbedded, I pulled the boy up onto his hands and knees and masturbated him as I gently shagged him. Despite himself, Kristofer started to respond and some half an hour after his deflowering, he and I were joined in simultaneous climaxes.
Kristofer collapsed on the bed with me still lodged firmly within him and we rested in that position while we both caught or breaths.
When I finally dislodged myself, Kristofer looked behind himself expecting to see blood on the sheets but there was none. He actually looked at little relieved.
I rested beside the boy and wiped away his tears and kissed him gently.
"The first time is always the hardest," I said comfortingly. "And I see that you got to enjoy it a bit as well. After a while you might even get to like having _s_e_x_ like this. Hans and I will take it as easy as we can but just remember that you had the choice and this is the option you selected." I kissed the boy long and hard and added: "And I am glad you made this choice."
Kristofer smiled weekly, clearly unconvinced and still upset. He and I showered again quickly and I suggested that he might stay and share Hans and my bed rather than spend the night alone. He was lying in my arms when Hans arrived.
Hans smiled at the sight of his partner and the newly initiated boy and quickly showered and joined us.
Hans played with Kristofer for a short while but I knew he wanted to assert his authority and make it clear to me and to Kristofer that the young lad was not an alternative lover. After a short while, Hans rolled me over and claimed me for his own in a quite obvious and uncompromising manner which caused me considerable discomfort and I think that Kristofer, watching intently, enjoyed seeing that I was suffering from the assault.
Finally, we three drifted off to sleep and awoke quite refreshed for what was to be a rather busy day.
In the morning, Hans and I visited the cells where preparations were well advanced for the punishment of Damien the rabble rouser whose firm buttocks had more than once entered my imagination during the previous night's exercise. The young man was in the hands of the medical staff when we entered the block and was giving voice to his indignation at the treatment he was receiving. I stood and watched, a smirk crossing my face at his obvious displeasure.
My attitude was borne of anger at people for whom the adoption of a cause, in this case the plight of the unemployed, was more a crusade to make them feel important rather than a heart-felt sympathy for the effected. Damien had clearly sought to gain personal satisfaction through his protests but had no sense of personal involvement with his adopted cause and would quite happily returned to his middle class home having egged the crowd on without so much as a thought for the increased sense of desperation he had left behind. His protests fell on deaf ears – he had caused the problem and now would pay the price.
Hans I left the medical room while Damien's preparation was completed and went into the punishment chamber where the machine had been set almost upright so that Damien could be strapped to it in the form of a cross. His arms and legs would be set at 45 degrees to his torso and the middle bar pushed out so that his buttocks would be spread and nicely presented to the whip. Hans and I waited in the grim room.
When Damien's preparation had been completed and the young man was affixed to the machine, I took a perverse pleasure in going to him and testing the taut muscles of his buttocks, thighs and back. He shook at my touch, especially as I stroked his thighs and the tight tendons that ran up to his groin. For me the feeling was delicious while for Damien the sensation was one of horror at his naked ness and vulnerability. As my hand grazed his testicles and the tip of his organ he protested: "Get your hands off me, you bastard!" he screamed.
"Now, now, Mr protester," I replied as I let my hand linger on his upper thigh, "you had better get used to this. You have seven years of time to serve and I can tell you there will be a lot of men who will just love feeling you up. And that's just the half of it!"
Damien's head spun around and he stared at me in horror as the truth of what I was saying finally dawned on him. I smiled.
For quite some time I just stroked those parts of Damien's body that were to be shortly visited by the whip and he shook all the while. Finally I had to leave him, sweat oozing from his anxious back and buttocks, as the guard stepped into the room carrying the multi-strand whip that was to be used. The whip had developed as a compromise when corporal punishment had been reintroduced – a compromise between the French love for the martinet and the British and German (well, more accurately, Prussian) predilection for the old fashioned cat-of-nine-tails. As with all maters to do with Europe, the legislators had had to find a compromise between competing historic interests and had settled on a whip of one metre in length with five strips of synthetic leather which caused considerable pain but was pliable enough to avoid breaking the skin except in the most extreme cases.
Clearly the guard shared my contempt for Damien and slowly walked to him giving him a clear view of the whip and plenty of time to consider the pain that it was to inflict. Damien sobbed quietly as he watched the guard and strained to look over his shoulder as the guard took up his position.
Damien was transfixed by the sight of the whip and I saw his eyes widen in horror and fascination as the guard swung it back out of Damien's sight and then brought it with a whirring sound forward to strike Damien's back. The 'smack' as the whip landed across the man's shoulders was electrifying and for a moment there was a pause as the impact registered and then Damien let out a wail of agony as the pain flooded his brain.
Slowly and methodically the guard applied strokes down Damien's back but kept well clear of the kidney area which would usually be covered with a thick leather strap for protection. Being an expert at his trade, the guard had dispensed with the leather protector and kept the whip from striking that area with great skill. Damien maintained an endless cry of pain broken only by his attempts to regain his breath throughout the whipping of his back.
For my part, I was not at all aroused by the vision of Damien's pale skin being turned from pink to red and then a deep crimson but the sight of his head shaking and neck stretching in response to each blow was entrancing. More enticing though was the prospect of the whip eventually visiting the two firm globes of the man's backside which appeared to simply invite chastisement.
The slow cadence of the whipping did not change as the tails of the whip struck lower down Damien's back and it was therefore a shock to him when the first blow struck his backside with seemingly increased venom. The twin mounds shook as the tails of the whip seared across them and Damien's let out a wail of pain. Although firm, Damien's buttocks seemed to take on a life of their own as the whip tore across them and not infrequently visited deep within the cleft between them. The shook and jiggled seemingly of their own accord and provided a delicious spectacle for we observers. Damien's wretched cries of pain provided a more than suitable chorus to the whirring of the whip.
Surprisingly, when the mandated flogging was completed, Damien's back and buttocks disported only a very few pinpricks of blood where evidently the lashes had struck most frequently. But Damien himself sounded as if he had been flogged half to death such was his crying and moaning and his distress was so great that he was quite disoriented when released from the machine.
Hans and I walked over to where the naked, sobbing young man stood trying to work out what to do and, to exacerbate Damien's anguish, Hans ran his hands over the tenderised buttocks and exclaimed to the prisoner: "Look right for the plucking to me". Damien visibly shrank away at Han's none too subtle reference to Damien's inevitable fate at the hands of his new prison "friends". I pulled Hans away from the distressed prisoner and reminded him that we had to get to the Prison camp and thus we left Damien to the ministrations of the medical staff and the guards.
Falkenfels Prison Camp sat below the high walls of the Castle that bore its name. The Castle had once been a tourist attraction but time and a need for space had seen its conversion into the administrative and staff accommodation part of the sprawling Prison Camp that could house up to 6000 prisoners.
Hans, Senior Guard Schneider and I entered the Prison Camp through the Castle's main gateway and were met by the Commandant who provided us with a senior officer to guide us about the place. Schneider left our group in the company of another guard who had apparently arranged for someone to meet his needs and desires while Hans and I went down into the main prison complex and inspected some of the wings in which prisoners were held.
We could not help but noticing the intimacy between many couples. Here, with long sentences to serve, prisoners commonly took wives and it was explained to us that the policy adopted was to encourage partnerships provided they did not lead to gang violence.
Prisoners wore electronic tags and supervisors could read into their records any infractions of the rules. When prisoners were checked after each meal they had to pass through scanners that read their tags. Those who had been reported were permitted to leave the dining room through only one door while those who had not broken the rules were permitted to leave by another. The prisoners whose tags had registered were led to immediate punishment and all prisoners were able to watch their fate.
Our escort showed us the huge auditorium where punishments were carried out. All 6000 prisoners could be accommodated in the hall and all had a view of proceedings at the far end of the hall where, on an elevated stage, stood the whipping frame and punishment machines to which prisoners were secured when punishments were given.
The stage had a concave back to it which, we would soon find out, gave perfect acoustics throughout the hall so that the prisoners observing from the back might still hear the torment of the punished. Holograms and huge screens also gave everyone a clear view of the prisoner from a number of angles so that observers might not miss any intricate detail of an offender's ordeal. We were informed that this set up had been created to have the maximum deterrent effect.
We lunched with the Commandant and discussed the state of the prison and its inmates and then went to interview various prisoners.
Hans and I spent the afternoon meeting with some of the younger prisoners who we had processed over the past year and generally found them to be reasonably settled although it was clear that some had had a rough time of adjusting to life in their new environment.
One boy, a seventeen year old by the name of Alex Perakis, I was especially interested in meeting for he had been a surly, self-confident teen who had elected to make his own way in prison and had refused Hans' offer to set him up with a protector.
We entered Alex's cell to find that him sitting in just his underwear, his classical features somewhat diminished by the stress of his existence. Outside his cell a hairy man of Turkish appearance loitered and he glared at us as we entered.
Hans and I sat down and the youth looked at us quizzically.
"Hello, Alex," said Hans. "Jamie and I have come to see how you were getting on. What is it, just two more years to go?"
"What do you care," Alex replied bitterly. "I won't survive another two years anyway. You may have well sent me here for life."
"Why is that?" asked Hans.
"You know what goes on in here," Alex spat back, "you warned me about it".
Hans sighed. "Alex, I told you that you needed protection and you refused but I don't understand why things are so difficult. Surely you have sorted that out by now."
"Look around you," said Alex. "This is a Turkish wing."
Hans looked at me and I shrugged, not understanding what was going on.
"What does that mean?" asked Hans.
"Look, you want to know the deal here," said Alex with anger in his voice. "You sent me here and I was put in a wing with a whole bunch of Greeks because I am a Greek. The cellblock boss, a real nasty piece of work, wanted me to put out for him and his friends but I fought them off. Then, after a few days there was a real serious fight and a couple of the boss' guys got themselves a flogging which tore their backs and arses to shreds. The next thing I know, the boss has sold me and I get sent here to the Turkish section.
"I was not here an hour than that guy outside and about five others just as ugly and vicious came here to my cell and jumped me. There was no fight although I struggled and they placed a gag in my mouth and carried me down to the weights room where they all spend their time working out. No one said a _f_u_c_k_ing word and they just tore off my uniform and spread me out on one of the benches, holding my arms and my legs apart so I couldn't move. They held me there from lunch until dinner and all the while anyone who wanted a piece of me did so.
"When dinnertime came they left me with blood and crap leaking from my arse but they told the guards that I was there and that I'd been whoring.
"The guards came and found me and when they searched my clothes they found tabs of dope which they said was what I had been charging for letting the guys _f_u_c_k_ me. So they took me to the supervisor of the block and he orders me to take a caning – 24 strokes – which cut me up pretty bad.
"When my backside had recovered, they brought me from the infirmary back here and my new boss tells me that if I didn't want to be set up again I would have to put out to any guy he send here. So I am now spending most of my time now just sucking _c_o_c_k_ or taking it up the arse and sooner or later one of these guys is going to get violent and I'll finish up dead. The _f_u_c_k_ing Turks love to see a Greek guy squealing in pain and each tries to make me hurt as much as possible."
With a sigh, Alex slumped down onto his bunk.
Hans got up and told the boy that he would see what could be done. Later that day, Alex was moved into a protection unit temporarily so that he could sort out a better arrangement.
After, while Hans went to see another inmate, I sought out Senior Guard Schneider and found him in the accommodation wing. With him was a rather attractive prisoner of about twenty or so who was standing in a corner with a well striped backside. As Schneider had requested, the lad had only just arrived in the Prison Camp and met his specifications of youthfulness and toughness for the lad had kept his composure throughout what appeared to be a fairly serious session with a belt.
"Hello, Schneider," I said as I walk into the room and inspected the young man and then turned to watch the guard as he lazily strokes his substantial erection.
Schneider was not at all put off by my unexpected appearance and continued stroking himself. "This is Remy, Sir," he said, indicating the young man in the corner. "Remy has been learning how to obey orders and how to pleasure a man with his mouth. He has been having a little trouble with his teeth and tonsils but he's gradually getting the hang of it."
I walked over to the youth and ordered him to turn around. A small amount of hair covered his chest which was well developed and I traced my hands down his front and edged closer to his genitals. He shivered at the progression of my hand and backed into the corner when I started to fondle his semi-erect organ.
I turned to Schneider. "I think he still has a bit of learning to do," I said smiling.
"Yes Sir," said Schneider. "I haven't quite gotten him trained fully as yet but there is plenty of time."
Schneider got up and pushed the lad over the end of the bed and took the belt he had been using and applied ten heavy 'whacks' to the already welted rump and the boy cried out at each stroke. When he had completed the ten strokes, Schneider ordered the youth to stand and I went to him and fondled him as he used his hands to wipe away his tears.
I was sorely tempted to play with the lad for a while but evening was approaching and I needed to get back to Hans. I arranged for Schneider to meet Hans and I later that evening and then caught up with Hans as he was finishing his last meeting. He and I asked to be taken to the reception area and there found Rupert and Thierry in the final stages of processing.
Rupert looked light a frightened rabbit as he sat next to Thierry and I almost felt sorry for him. Thierry also looked a little disconcerted and I went to him to ask him what was pressing on his mind.
"The Commission increased the sentence," he said glumly
"Oh," I sighed, "to what?"
"Eighty," he said simply.
"Well, I'm not surprised," I replied. "I did tell you that the judge was very lenient considering the crackdown on economic crimes. Did they extend your time?"
"No," he replied.
"Well, just remember," I said in consolation, "two centuries ago men not half as strong as you would routinely got more than that with a cat-o-nine tails."
"Yeah," said Thierry softly, "I read some books about that era. I don't know how those guys survived."
"Some didn't," I noted. "But you will."
I left Rupert and Thierry to the guards and Hans and I went to have dinner with the Commandant prior to witnessing the punishments.
The Commandant, a tall Prussian, was most expansive over dinner and I wondered about his demeanour. He was attended by a smart looking prisoner who was fitted out in tight trousers that nicely set off his high rounded buttocks and, it seemed, little else at least below his waist. A sort of sailor's suit top with a bright blue band set of the prisoner's good looking face which was framed by locks of yellow curly hair. I judged him to be about 19 or 20 years old. He was clearly the Commandant's plaything for the man did not hesitate to fondle the lad's backside as he leant over and served dinner. I was tempted to touch his firm buttocks myself but thought the better of it.
"There should be a good show tonight," said the Commandant cheerfully and suddenly the serving lad let the ladle he was gave to serve our soup clatter from his grasp. The Commandant scowled but said nothing about the incident.
"Yes, " he continued, "you have come on a good night for we have four prisoners joining our happy little Camp and several inmates who have been sentenced on various offences. It will be quite an experience for you both to see how we deal with such matters here.
"Commandant," said Hans as I watched the clearly anxious lad who was serving us go about his duties, "a couple of the younger prisoners are known to us and we have arranged for them to be housed together. I hope you don't mind."
"Not in the least, son," replied the Commandant with a smile. "The sooner prisoners find their places here the better. It helps keep violence to a minimum if they are paired up with someone quickly."
"Do you have much violence here?" I enquired.
"Some," said the Commandant thoughtfully. "Most of it is over _s_e_x_ or drugs, although there is also a bit of racial tension from time to time. With so many prisoners, it's always hard to keep a lid on things but we do the best we can.
"We have a policy of trying to get the younger prisoners into the care of the older ones as quickly as we can but, from time to time, we do have difficulties and, of course, there are not enough young ones to go round and there are battles for those that refuse to accept a protector from the outset.
"I would guess that there are a few hundred in that category and they finish up having multiple partners and then there is the trade that goes on when prisoners swap or sell their "punks" which is therm given to their submissive partners. We keep a pretty close eye on things but periodically matters get out of hand. When that happens, say, if someone uses a weapon to get hold of some punk, we make an example of him and that quietens things down."
As the Commandant gave his answer to my question, my eyes, and those of Hans, were regularly drawn to the charming young man who was waiting on our table.
When the lad left the room to get something, Hans nodded in his direction and asked of the Commandant: "One of the fringe benefits?"
The Commandant laughed uproariously. "Yes, definitely," he said without hesitation. "Young Friedreich is one of the young ones who had no partner and was going to be eaten alive, so I took him under my wing. I have a few boys working in the Castle. They are shown no leniency as you will see tonight, but at least they are treated a little better than if they were down in one of the cellblocks. Why, don't you approve?"
"Oh, we both approve Commandant," replied Hans. "We have a similar arrangement and have a small number of prisoners assigned to our service as well. He is really cute though and I am just a tad jealous."
The Commandant laughed again and thereafter we chatted idly throughout the rest of the meal.
After dinner, the Commandant led us down into the prison to the huge auditorium to witness the punishments. Friedreich came with us but was escorted to one side just as we were about to enter the arena.