The foot torture of the young prisoners continues in Chapter 3...
Corrections - Chapter 3
by A.J. Moor
Series: Corrections
View this page with a white background and black text!
It didn’t take long to get the prison boys set up for their next punishment. After the other officers helped, it was actually only a few minutes. The other corrections personnel had come in, and Hanes then ensured that the rolling bar was in the middle of the room, kicking the switch at the bottom to lock it in place. After that he and the other officers had used the cruel, thick rope to wrap around each of the ten prison boys’ bare feet, hoisting them in the air so they were hanging like sleeping bats from the bar, all in a row. Then the officers took the extra rope and wrapped it around each of their wrists, binding them together so they couldn’t try to escape their bondage, but allowing them to cross the hands in front of them for whatever cruel punishment Hanes next had in store for them.
Now the other officers left, and Hanes stood in front of the boys, suspended and upside down. He stared at Sergio, who still looked up at him in defiance. Then Officer Hanes decided each of the prison boys needed a better idea of what they were up against with this cruel punishment.
So he walked behind the bar and looked at the bare soles of the hanging prison boys, all in a row. The shades of color of those prison boy feet so captivated Hanes, he thought he might come in his pants on the spot. He looked up at them, and he realized they weren’t much higher than eye level. And he also knew those young bare soles would be the easiest possible way to punish the prison boys should it come to that.
But of course it would! How could it not? And these sweaty young pathetic prisoners still had no idea just how terrible the punishments could become. Even Sergio hadn’t yet gotten a full taste of the strap on his young bare soles.
“So you need to know what you can expect for disobedience,” Hanes remarked, a cruel smile evident in his voice. Sergio was on the very opposite end, so he would be the last one to taste the strap as Hanes went down the row beating each of the prison slaves in turn. “So I’m gonna beat each of your bare feet in order and make sure you know.” Then Hanes walked to the opposite end of the row of hanging prison slaves from where Sergio hung, and he moved his cruel strap once more over the soft, pink soles of the young Asian boy, who closed his eyes in fear and terror of the strap he knew would soon punish the soft flesh of his young, vulnerable soles. And Hanes got ready—got ready to make the boy scream.
Suddenly, Hanes heard the Asian boy speak.
“Please Sir,” he said, and there was a humility in the boy’s voice that showed just how very afraid of the strap—and indeed of all of prison life—he truly was.
Hanes lowered the strap for a moment and put his hands on top of the prisoner’s bare soles, as if getting ready to beat them with his hand.
“Please what, prisoner?” Hanes said, a dangerous calm present in his voice.
“Please don’t beat me, Sir,” he said, and with those words, a fiery demon came out of Hanes. He grabbed his strap once more and drew it back, letting it fly through the air, CRACKING it against the Asian boy’s sweaty young back.
“Oh fuck! Please! Pleeeease Sir!” he screamed, clenching his eyes tightly shut at the sudden violence from Hanes. After Hanes had beaten the boy on his soft back, forming a welt there, he did it again, this time a little lower. Now the Asian prison boy let out a low moan after hissing in the air to fight the torture. The beating was clearly more intense than he ever could have imagined. Then, when Hanes had satisfied his lust for anger and losing his temper, he raised the strap high above his head and brought it forth on the upside down young Asian boy’s left bare sole. Then his right. Then he took the strap and CRACKED it against both of the prison boy’s soles at the same time. The handsome, young looking prisoner curled his toes as the sweat now formed beads on the soles of his bare feet. His toes flexed so tightly, Hanes was convinced the muscles in the boy’s feet must surely ache from the torture of that flexing. Then Hanes, in no mood for mercy, brought the strap back and beat the young man’s back yet again.
“Leave him alone you fucking asshole!” he heard one of the prison boys say. Then he stopped and looked over. Yes, it was Sergio, and he had his head turned so he could show a clear look of rage and defiance in his eyes as his stare bore into Hanes’s face. Hanes displayed a look of amusement in his countenance as he stared back.
“I’ll deal with you shortly, boy,” he said, now moving past the Asian prisoner and to the next one, raising his strap above his head once more and bringing it CRACKING down on the next boy’s soles. This young prisoner was white and muscular. He too had a look of defiance on his face, but not as much as Sergio did. No, there was clearly no match for Sergio.
“Mmmpphh,” the boy moaned, and Hanes figured that was all he would get out of that prison boy at the time. But it was no matter. He could always return to him later if he wanted, come once again to beat the boy on his soles or his back or his legs. This young man would be no challenge to force into submission. Not like Sergio. No, Sergio was a special prison boy. And Hanes would take his time breaking the lad. Little by little, it would happen. It was only a matter of time.
Down the row he went, and as he moved closer and closer to the Hispanic boy that caused his cock to drip precum in his pants, he raised the strap and CRACKED it against each of the prisoners’ young, handsome soles. It was interesting to Hanes just how differently they all responded. Some of them sniffled and cried like damn kids. Some only let out a muffled moan from the torture, as they were determined to remain as stoic as possible. Some screamed loudly but did not cry. And this whole session of punishment and torture was like a musical chorus in Hanes’s ears. He couldn’t wait to get to Sergio. He desperately wanted to see just how that boy would respond to his punishment and torture on the soles of his soft, young bare feet.
So Hanes continued making his way down the row of bare manly feet that he was beating as he went, growing closer and closer to Sergio, the prison man of his dreams. After he beat the last boy before Sergio, he listened to the soft sniffling coming from that prisoner as the sting in his young soles reverberated into his ankles and even into his lower legs. Now he had finally arrived at Sergio, and he was ready to spend as long as necessary convincing this boy to wholly submit. He used the terror of anticipation, holding the strap over his bare soles, but not beating them. Not yet anyway. He could hear the silence in the air as Sergio tensely held his breath. Yes, this boy was afraid, but he wouldn’t dare show it. Not in front of his fellow prison boys anyway.
Hanes put the strap under his arm and then laid the palms of his hands directly on top of his favorite prison boy’s bare feet.
“Are you getting off on this, Sir?” Sergio dared to ask, and then he let out a low laugh. It was in that moment that Hanes felt an anger boiling in his gut like he had never felt before. He removed his hands from the boy’s soles and grabbed his strap. Then he held it up and brought it down as hard as he could onto the bottoms of the young man’s feet. To his recollection, he had never beaten a prison boy with quite all his force before. But this time was different. Sergio, even being a prisoner, held some sort of power over Hanes that he simply couldn’t describe. And Hanes realized in that moment that this was no longer a mere job to perform; no, now it was personal. And after he cracked that strap against the flesh of the boy’s soles, he did so again, and it wasn’t long before Sergio was panting heavily.
But he wasn’t screaming. Not yet, but there was some part of Hanes that desired nothing more than to hear the boy scream. And so he hit him. And hit him. And hit him. And not just his soft bare soles. He drew back and beat the boy’s legs, as well. And his back. And his shoulders. And his neck. It wasn’t long before huge red welts formed all over the boy’s near naked flesh, and yet still he didn’t cry out. Fuck! What was this Hispanic kid’s problem? Surely by now he realized that all he really had to do to get the punishment to stop was to scream. But something had taken Hanes over, and at this point he wasn’t even entirely sure he could stop. So he simply continued beating the boy without mercy, showing the handsome young Latino stud no pity whatsoever, no matter the violence involved in this sadistic punishment.
“Come on, Sergio. Let’s hear it. Cry out!”
But even as Hanes taunted the boy, he remained silent. He moaned a little, and his breathing was heavy, but still he didn’t cry out. Still he remained perfectly stoic.
“I said scream!” Hanes continued, and now he once more lifted the strap over the boy’s young soles, bringing it down yet again and torturing his flesh there. The beating was growing more intense, more insane. And the welts formed all over the prisoner’s body. He would probably have trouble even walking for a few days as Hanes took a moment’s rest and traced the welts on the boy’s sole flesh with his strap.
Now it was Hanes who was panting, and he didn’t know if he would be able to stop anytime soon. So he raised the strap once more, and once again he brought it down on the young man’s soles before moving back to his shoulders. Now Sergio was breathing even more heavily, and he turned his sexy body in such a way that he could see his mater’s face, and he stared into it with those same glassy eyes of defiance he always had. Fuck! It’s as if the punishments were making the prison slave even more defiant, not less. It’s as if he were moving Sergio in the opposite mental direction from where he wanted him to go. But now Hanes noticed that behind all the defiance on his face was a softness that he hadn’t seen before. Hanes might have called it the beginning of the end of defiance. He didn’t yet know, but he did immediately realize that Sergio was now just a little bit closer to submission than he was before, as if he had to move closer toward defiance in order to ultimately move away from it.
Then Hanes cocked his head to the side when Sergio vocalized something. It was faint, and the man couldn’t quite make it out.
“What was that, prisoner?”
“I said…”
“Yes?”
“Please.”
That was the first time the prison boy had uttered such a word since Hanes had met him. And at this point even the other prisoners maintained a hush in the room. Yes, even the ones who had still been whimpering from the pain in their bare feet after having tasted the sting of the strap. The silence was deafening, and Hanes cracked just the beginning of a smile. Then he reached back with that strap once more and CRACKED it against the boy’s back once again, forming a welt just underneath one he had already created.
“Oh fuck!”
“Oh fuck is right!” Hanes said, and once more he raised the strap over his head, this time bringing it yet again onto the already racked soles of the boy’s young bare feet.
“Fuck you, Sir!” he screamed. “Didn’t I give you what you wanted, Sir?”
“Yes,” he said, and then he brought the strap back, this time beating the boy’s young, muscular shoulders with it.
“Aagghh!” he screamed, wincing in the cruelty of the pain. And now Hanes stepped back to admire his work. He stared intently at the boy’s young, brown body, covered in welts from the sadistic strap he had subjected the prison slave, too. And Hanes had to admit the young Hispanic prisoner looked ravishing after having been beaten so badly and after finally succumbing to the end of his defiance.
And yet, Hanes had to admit that there was still something missing. It was as if the slave still had some lingering bit of anger and resentment in his eyes, something Hanes felt strongly he needed to rid the young man of. But how?
And yet, he also knew he had an idea of just how to do it. And if he was being honest, he would have to admit he had that very idea not long before. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but now he finally did—to himself, if to no one else. In order to get this prison slave to fully submit, he would have to deliver to this prisoner the ultimate humiliation and punishment. And now he would do just that.
He moved forward and started lowering the boy onto the ground, and Sergio stared back at Hanes with soft eyes. But even at this point there was defiance. Fuck! Maybe he felt Hanes was lowering him to show him some mercy. Little did the prisoner know that such was the last thing on Hanes’s mind. No, he would deliver the ultimate punishment to this prison boy. He would force him to yield the ultimate submission. He would break the lad if it was the last thing he did.
He knelt down and started to undo the boy’s bondage in his wrists and his bare feet.
“Are you letting me go no, Sir?” Sergio seemed to dare to ask, and it was almost sweet the way he said it. Hanes moved his fingers forward, brushing the man’s cheek, and even Hanes himself displayed some gentleness on his face.
“No, boy,” he said. “I’m going to do something even better. I’m going to give you the ultimate punishment, and you’re going to like it.”
Sergio stared back at him with wide eyes, clearly not yet understanding what Hanes was talking about.
“You haven’t punished me enough yet, Sir? Sergio asked.
Fuck! Maybe he really had completely submitted. But it was too late to turn back now. He had to deliver this punishment. He had to make this boy suffer. Once more, Hanes brushed the prisoner’s cheek. Then he smiled, calm and dangerous.
“You’ll see, prisoner. Stand up. Let’s continue.”
1 Comment
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
31118azti - August 13, 2019, 9:18 am
Whew! What is the ultimate????