Prisoner Twelve (story)

[sirmasterdave075]

want too see you feed her prune juice and put in a cauther, drain her piss and re fill her bladder, with hot sauce, her belly burning from the inside, her ass filling with sloppy shit , her pussy filled with 20 bulit vibors , a clamp on her clit so she can,t even orgasms

 

[vanHelsing]

That is one really strong story, and it keeps getting better with each new page. Yes, a continuation would be wonderful! What sort of unpleasant adventures might Rachel encounter when delivered to the Emir? Somehow these middle Eastern guys do get the mind boggling. Congratulations on your effort!

 

[TortureECT]

Part 15


The prisoner began to speak again, but the guard silenced her. “I forgot something,” he announced, rummaging in his canvas bag. “You’ve had fun with Mr. Nightstick, but I haven’t introduced you to your other cell-mate!” He triumphantly removed an object from the bag, and waved it in front of her face. It was a short, squat piece of shiny steel, bulbous at one end, and with a flared base and a ring at the other. “This is Mr. Fatty. He’s going to party in your little arse-hole all night, bitch!”


She remembered the guards mentioning this earlier, when she was being searched. She never imagined they were talking about this – this huge solid metal plug, that the guard was obviously intending to ram up her back passage. She began to beg again.


“Please sir, not that… please,”


“Relax, you whore, everyone knows what a perve you are; I bet you love shoving things up your dirty shit pipe.” He was squeezing some white lubricating cream on to the bulbous metal monstrosity, and doing it right in front of her eyes, so that she knew what was coming. The prisoner began to thrash around inside her cage as he moved round behind her, screaming her protests, but her head was well secured to the bars by her hair, and the cage was too small to allow much movement. She heard the creak of the cage door opening again behind her, and then a moment of exquisite coldness against her anus, before the smooth bulbous head of the butt plug was pressed firmly against her resisting sphincter.


“I said relax! You’re only making it fucking worse for yourself” commanded the guard, bringing both arms to bear on the task of twisting and pushing the metal invader into the caged woman’s anus. Suddenly, the plug entered her, its fat shiny head disappearing between the prisoner’s buttocks. She stiffened in shock, her chained hands balling into fists. An unearthly cry came from deep in her throat. Dane swung the cage door closed until its central bar just touched the ring at the base of the butt plug, then he chose a padlock just the right size to fit through the ring and round the bar, locking the butt plug firmly to the back of the cage. Finally he slowly pushed the cage door the rest of the way shut, which forced the butt plug further into the girl’s backside, though not quite up to the hilt. The prisoner panted, and moaned in distress, leaning forward to try to escape the terrible plug, an action which pulled her head back sharply and forced her face against the bars at the other end of the cage. She sobbed, finding that she could not move far enough to escape her impalement. Dane leaned against the cage door, holding it shut while he snapped the hasps closed, locking them with a pair of padlocks.



He returned to the front of the cage, and opened the canvas bag again. Prisoner Twelve looked at him through her tears, her anus uncomfortably stretched beyond anything she thought possible. She had never even seen a butt plug before now, and to have one forced inside her, and fixed there by the bars of the cage…was… indescribable.


“I haven’t forgotten you said you were thirsty, “ said Dane, holding up a plastic bottle filled with liquid, and another object that appeared to be a steel flask with a long curved tube screwed to the end. This tube resembled a black rubber dick bent into a right angle.


“Get your fucking mouth open, you slut, and you can suck on this. It’s like a hamster’s water bottle. It’s covered in rubber, but it’s actually steel inside”. She hesitated, knowing her thirst was extreme, but that once he pushed that tube into her mouth, she might not be able to remove it.


Dane held the steel flask close to the front of the cage, with the tube attachment at the base, so that the rubber and steel cock curved in through the bars and pressed against the prisoner’s tight closed lips. He reached into the cage with the other hand, and pinched one of the prisoner’s nipples, hard. Her cry of pain opened her mouth just enough, and Dane forced the mouthpiece in, stifling her mewling protests, until the tip of it reached the back of her throat and made her gag.


“Move back, you fucking stupid cunt, or you’ll choke” he growled, holding the flask against the bars, while he tightened the four bolts that held it in place. “Use your arms to pull yourself back.” The terrified prisoner flexed her arms, chained to the cage roof behind her, and forced herself back onto the butt plug, painfully stretching her sphincter further than ever, but discovering that she could breathe. If she allowed herself to fall forward so that her face hit the front end of the cage, the rubber and steel dick-tube would thrust itself down her throat and cut off her air. There was no way she could turn her head to get the rigid tube out of her mouth, but she quickly found she could achieve a sort of balance, a place where she could breathe, without being too painfully stretched by the plug. It required delicate control of her muscles to maintain this position, using not only her handcuffed wrists, but also her locked-down ankles and even her clamped hair for additional leverage. Once there, she could bite into the rubber-covered steel dick to anchor herself a little more firmly and prevent herself from sliding forward and being choked.


Danes unscrewed the top end of the metal flask and decanted the liquid into it from the other bottle; when the flask was full he screwed its top tightly back in place.


“This should re-hydrate you nicely, you suck on that, you cock-sucking bitch!”


He gathered up his canvas bag and stood up, stalking out of the cell and slamming the door with a deafening noise. The prisoner flinched in her tiny cage.


“Good night, Mr. Fatty,“ he called, “Sorry you have to share a cell with this empty headed cum-guzzling whore!”


With that, he turned off the light, plunging the cell-block into complete darkness, and left, slamming the cell-block door behind him. The prisoner, chained and naked in her tiny cage, with a steel butt plug rammed into her anus, and her mouth filled with a simulation of a fat cock that tickled her throat and constantly threatened to choke her, took a tentative suck at the evil tube that filled her mouth, and retched. It was urine.

Nice lovely creative balance she has to find

Well thought out predicament

 

[TortureECT]

Part 24


He rocked her for a while, wiping her nose occasionally, as she wept, her tears soaking his shirt. His unexpected acts of kindness devastated her somehow; such emotional defences as she had gathered against her cruel treatment were useless against this. Gradually she grew calm, relishing the warmth of her jailer’s body. Once or twice, he kissed her naked scalp where it showed between the straps of her head harness – a weird and erotic feeling. Although she was chained, naked, and in discomfort from the various tortures and humiliations she had suffered, she felt as if she could live in this moment forever.


The guard had brought her supper, and wanted her to eat it before it went cold; it was soup, and he spoon-fed her like a baby. He had brought fruit juice, too, which he squeezed directly from the carton into her open mouth, through the ring-gag, taking care not to go too quickly and cause her to choke.


He helped her to use the piss-bucket and cleaned her up afterwards.


The prisoner kept making faltering attempts to speak; she wanted him to know she was grateful for his new found gentleness, but all she could do was gurgle through her gag, and she settled for nuzzling his arm when the opportunity arose, such as when he lifted her off the bucket and led her back to the bed.


He looked round the cell. “This place is in a fucking state,” he muttered. “I’m going to get the cleaning things, and when I get back you can make yourself a useful little cunt and help me out.” Dane patted her on the head and left, taking the supper tray with him. This time he did close the cell door, sliding it firmly shut with a metallic bang.


Prisoner Twelve reflected on the guard’s change of behaviour. She still more than half suspected it was a trick, or another mind game. Of course it was preferable to the relentless brutality that had preceded it, even though it was troubling, somehow, and made her feel uneasy. She stood up and stretched her limbs, as far as her chains would allow, and paced up and down the cell like a zoo animal, waiting for its keeper to reappear. The soles of her feet were tender, but she needed some exercise, and so she marched herself up and down behind the bars of her cell, occasionally stopping to flex her knees or her neck.


She was still doing this when Dane returned with a collection of mops, brooms and buckets on a trolley, which he negotiated through the cell block door with some difficulty, fighting against the door’s powerful spring. She heard a few male jeers waft through the half-open door as he entered; the male prisoners were making lewd guesses as to the purposes of all this equipment. “Told you she was a dirty whore”, was one comment that carried to her ears.


Dane grinned at her, holding up the head of a broom, that he had detached from its handle.


“You’re doing the floor, fuckpet. I’ll do everything else”


He placed her on her knees in the middle of the cell, leaving her hands chained to her waist. The broom head had a plastic projection in the centre which enabled it to be attached to the handle; he took out a roll of black duct tape and began wrapping it round this short plastic tube, thickening it considerably. The prisoner was mystified by this until he held it up to her ring-gagged mouth to check his progress; then she understood. Unsatisfied, he wrapped more of the tape around this bit of the broom head, fashioning the projecting part into a round and pliable knob, which could just be pushed past the ring into her mouth with a little effort, and would not fall out.


“Fucking suits you, actually” he said, not unkindly. He poured out a patch of warm soapy water in front of her. “Go on then, little scrubber. Get scrubbing”. She bent awkwardly to the task, using her back muscles almost entirely to drag the broom head across the wet, soapy floor. Without the use of her hands, her weight fell forward on to the broom and the only way she could move it was by arching her back. Dane watched her for a minute, pouring out more water in front of her and patting her encouragingly on the buttocks with his nightstick.


“Good girl, that’s it. You missed a bit there.”


The girl sweated with the effort, but didn’t protest. Her tongue wrapped around the tape-swaddled plastic of the broom head, and her drool trickled slowly out and added to the wet puddle she knelt in. She began using smaller movements of her neck to scrub the floor, as her back became tired. Dane meanwhile busied himself washing down the cell’s furniture and bars, and for a while they worked together, not speaking, just sharing this duty. Were it not for the fact that one of them was naked and kneeling in chains, it might have seemed like they were colleagues, or comrades.


The guard finished his cleaning duties first, and watched the prisoner scrubbing the last corner of the cell with her mouth. She had not been able to reach under the bed, where a small puddle of Paulson’s sperm still lay. Dane moved the bed out of the way by propping it up on its end, then he guided her over that way, prodding at her bottom with the baton. Another puddle of water was poured, and the chained, kneeling girl continued her exhausting task, her whipped feet waving in the air, trying to counterbalance the weight of her upper body, and the brush head emerging bizarrely out of her mouth as if she had swallowed the whole broom handle.


The guard announced himself satisfied, freeing her mouth from the broom head and removing all the cleaning materials to the trolley in the hallway outside the cell. He placed the bed back on the floor, and helped her on to it. She leaned into him, exhausted and still panting from her labours, and nuzzled his arm when he laid her down on her back.


“That’s quite enough of that fucking shit,” he tutted, good-humouredly, “don’t think you can get round me like that, fuck-pet. You get a good rest, now.”


He patted her on the head, and sauntered out of the cell, slamming the door behind him. He had called her “fuck-pet”, but made it sound like a term of endearment. As he reached the door into the next cell block, and just before he put out the light, he turned to her, and blew her a kiss. Then she was plunged once more into darkness, and solitude.

Nice way to put cunts to clean and shine things

 

[TortureECT]

Part 24


He rocked her for a while, wiping her nose occasionally, as she wept, her tears soaking his shirt. His unexpected acts of kindness devastated her somehow; such emotional defences as she had gathered against her cruel treatment were useless against this. Gradually she grew calm, relishing the warmth of her jailer’s body. Once or twice, he kissed her naked scalp where it showed between the straps of her head harness – a weird and erotic feeling. Although she was chained, naked, and in discomfort from the various tortures and humiliations she had suffered, she felt as if she could live in this moment forever.


The guard had brought her supper, and wanted her to eat it before it went cold; it was soup, and he spoon-fed her like a baby. He had brought fruit juice, too, which he squeezed directly from the carton into her open mouth, through the ring-gag, taking care not to go too quickly and cause her to choke.


He helped her to use the piss-bucket and cleaned her up afterwards.


The prisoner kept making faltering attempts to speak; she wanted him to know she was grateful for his new found gentleness, but all she could do was gurgle through her gag, and she settled for nuzzling his arm when the opportunity arose, such as when he lifted her off the bucket and led her back to the bed.


He looked round the cell. “This place is in a fucking state,” he muttered. “I’m going to get the cleaning things, and when I get back you can make yourself a useful little cunt and help me out.” Dane patted her on the head and left, taking the supper tray with him. This time he did close the cell door, sliding it firmly shut with a metallic bang.


Prisoner Twelve reflected on the guard’s change of behaviour. She still more than half suspected it was a trick, or another mind game. Of course it was preferable to the relentless brutality that had preceded it, even though it was troubling, somehow, and made her feel uneasy. She stood up and stretched her limbs, as far as her chains would allow, and paced up and down the cell like a zoo animal, waiting for its keeper to reappear. The soles of her feet were tender, but she needed some exercise, and so she marched herself up and down behind the bars of her cell, occasionally stopping to flex her knees or her neck.


She was still doing this when Dane returned with a collection of mops, brooms and buckets on a trolley, which he negotiated through the cell block door with some difficulty, fighting against the door’s powerful spring. She heard a few male jeers waft through the half-open door as he entered; the male prisoners were making lewd guesses as to the purposes of all this equipment. “Told you she was a dirty whore”, was one comment that carried to her ears.


Dane grinned at her, holding up the head of a broom, that he had detached from its handle.


“You’re doing the floor, fuckpet. I’ll do everything else”


He placed her on her knees in the middle of the cell, leaving her hands chained to her waist. The broom head had a plastic projection in the centre which enabled it to be attached to the handle; he took out a roll of black duct tape and began wrapping it round this short plastic tube, thickening it considerably. The prisoner was mystified by this until he held it up to her ring-gagged mouth to check his progress; then she understood. Unsatisfied, he wrapped more of the tape around this bit of the broom head, fashioning the projecting part into a round and pliable knob, which could just be pushed past the ring into her mouth with a little effort, and would not fall out.


“Fucking suits you, actually” he said, not unkindly. He poured out a patch of warm soapy water in front of her. “Go on then, little scrubber. Get scrubbing”. She bent awkwardly to the task, using her back muscles almost entirely to drag the broom head across the wet, soapy floor. Without the use of her hands, her weight fell forward on to the broom and the only way she could move it was by arching her back. Dane watched her for a minute, pouring out more water in front of her and patting her encouragingly on the buttocks with his nightstick.


“Good girl, that’s it. You missed a bit there.”


The girl sweated with the effort, but didn’t protest. Her tongue wrapped around the tape-swaddled plastic of the broom head, and her drool trickled slowly out and added to the wet puddle she knelt in. She began using smaller movements of her neck to scrub the floor, as her back became tired. Dane meanwhile busied himself washing down the cell’s furniture and bars, and for a while they worked together, not speaking, just sharing this duty. Were it not for the fact that one of them was naked and kneeling in chains, it might have seemed like they were colleagues, or comrades.


The guard finished his cleaning duties first, and watched the prisoner scrubbing the last corner of the cell with her mouth. She had not been able to reach under the bed, where a small puddle of Paulson’s sperm still lay. Dane moved the bed out of the way by propping it up on its end, then he guided her over that way, prodding at her bottom with the baton. Another puddle of water was poured, and the chained, kneeling girl continued her exhausting task, her whipped feet waving in the air, trying to counterbalance the weight of her upper body, and the brush head emerging bizarrely out of her mouth as if she had swallowed the whole broom handle.


The guard announced himself satisfied, freeing her mouth from the broom head and removing all the cleaning materials to the trolley in the hallway outside the cell. He placed the bed back on the floor, and helped her on to it. She leaned into him, exhausted and still panting from her labours, and nuzzled his arm when he laid her down on her back.


“That’s quite enough of that fucking shit,” he tutted, good-humouredly, “don’t think you can get round me like that, fuck-pet. You get a good rest, now.”


He patted her on the head, and sauntered out of the cell, slamming the door behind him. He had called her “fuck-pet”, but made it sound like a term of endearment. As he reached the door into the next cell block, and just before he put out the light, he turned to her, and blew her a kiss. Then she was plunged once more into darkness, and solitude.

 

[TortureECT]

@montycrusto i beg you to continue this story please

It was great
So all this time some harem sheikh had bought her this was just pre training

Wow

Great story

And twist

Unexpected ending

He said the sale of prisoner 11 helped this project
How many innocent girls have they sold to middle east men

 

[TortureECT]

want too see you feed her prune juice and put in a cauther, drain her piss and re fill her bladder, with hot sauce, her belly burning from the inside, her ass filling with sloppy shit , her pussy filled with 20 bulit vibors , a clamp on her clit so she can,t even orgasms

I love the way you treat prisoners

 

[TortureECT]

want too see you feed her prune juice and put in a cauther, drain her piss and re fill her bladder, with hot sauce, her belly burning from the inside, her ass filling with sloppy shit , her pussy filled with 20 bulit vibors , a clamp on her clit so she can,t even orgasms

What is prune juice

 

[Loinclothslave]

Oh wow, not the finish I was anticipating, @montycrusto , did you allow @Barbaria1 access to your computer?

Amazing journey, I personally have been prisoner 12 since chapter 3…

Now there is nothing of Rachel left in me, I am now merely “12” a slave of the Emir, with brutal lash scars across my body. I have always been His slave, and serve Master in pain and sexual slavery for the rest of time…

He allows me to post online only as Loinclothslave for this slavegirl’s humiliation and all of your amusement…

Terrifyingly terrific tale, @montycrusto , this tantalized tumescently!

 

[montycrusto]

Oh wow, not the finish I was anticipating, @montycrusto , did you allow @Barbaria1 access to your computer?

Amazing journey, I personally have been prisoner 12 since chapter 3…

Now there is nothing of Rachel left in me, I am now merely “12” a slave of the Emir, with brutal lash scars across my body. I have always been His slave, and serve Master in pain and sexual slavery for the rest of time…

He allows me to post online only as Loinclothslave for this slavegirl’s humiliation and all of your amusement…

Terrifyingly terrific tale, @montycrusto , this tantalized tumescently!

Can’t believe you read all that crap lol, but thanks!! I’m now reconciled to it being “definitively unfinished”, and my other stories are all way shorter. In a parallel universe somewhere, there’s a “Book Two” which continues the odyssey, and brings everything to a satisfying end Thanks for reading, hope you’re not scarred for life

 

[Loinclothslave]

Can’t believe you read all that crap lol, but thanks!! I’m now reconciled to it being “definitively unfinished”, and my other stories are all way shorter. In a parallel universe somewhere, there’s a “Book Two” which continues the odyssey, and brings everything to a satisfying end Thanks for reading, hope you’re not scarred for life

I am 12 and the scars will never heal. Thanks to Dr Kay and my new Master…

 

[TortureECT]

Oh wow, not the finish I was anticipating, @montycrusto , did you allow @Barbaria1 access to your computer?

Amazing journey, I personally have been prisoner 12 since chapter 3…

Now there is nothing of Rachel left in me, I am now merely “12” a slave of the Emir, with brutal lash scars across my body. I have always been His slave, and serve Master in pain and sexual slavery for the rest of time…

He allows me to post online only as Loinclothslave for this slavegirl’s humiliation and all of your amusement…

Terrifyingly terrific tale, @montycrusto , this tantalized tumescently!

See see see

Ha haaaa

I gave you that link

didn't i tell ya its great if you read it very carefully