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Review This Story || Author: dale10

Paul's Slavery

Part 38




  Paul Marshall was in a daze. The attendants fucked him continually. None of them were kind to him, but some were even more brutal than others. They all had huge dicks. It was like they had been hired for their gigantic pricks and their sadistic manners. Three of them were married, but they still fucked Paul and various other patients in the mental asylum. Three of them were single, and seemed to delight in working out their frustrations with life by torturing the inmates. Paul was in such constant agony, that his mind began to actually shut down. Previously, he had known that he had been committed under false pretenses, because he had attacked Matt Henshaw. But now, his mind actually was breaking-up due to the constant abuse. 

   They hung Paul by his wrists and knees and swung his bare assed teenage body and took turns slamming their big greasy dicks up his tender stretched asshole.  They put Paul in metal cages or in metal face masks that not only hurt terribly, but drove him mad with the restraint and constriction. They made him crawl across the floor to eat meals of some kind of cereal slop, soaked with their piss. They forced him to shit and piss in front of the cameras, and to show his asshole clearly as the turds dropped out into his food dish. Some days they would not clean his food dish first, but just dumped his food right on top of his piss and shit. If Paul did not eat it all, including his shit, he was subjected to electro-torture therapy. Electric pads or clamps were attached to his big teenage nuts and to his dick and he was given horrible jolts of electricity which felt like getting kicked hard in the balls, and having his dick almost torn off. The pain would shoot through his entire body. Paul forgot what day it was, and he didn't even know day from night anymore, shut away as he was in a padded cell.  His ass was whipped every day with various items, always showing the cameras and his many internet fans his stripped cheeks. Sometimes his balls were whipped, or he was forced to spread his cheeks so he could be beaten deep inside his crack and right on the asshole itself. 

   He was made to refer to his asshole as a cunt. If he slipped and called it ass or asshole, he was punished terribly. 

   He was dragged through the hospital from room to room, where photos were taken of him sucking the dicks of feeble old patients, some of whom seemed in a catatonic state. He was made to suck the dicks of other young patients as well. He was told that each patient needed some kind of activity to keep him occupied, so he was taken into the public restrooms that most of the other patients used. These places were disgusting messes. Shit covered the toilet bowels, and dried yellow piss coated the floors around each commode. Waste and toilet paper floated in the bowls. Paul was instructed to get the restrooms spic and span, using only his tongue! That's right. He had to crawl around bare assed naked and lick the crap off the porcelain bowls and from the floor around. Then he had to lick up under the toilet bowl rim and then he had to eat whatever waste was in the toilet and drink the brownish yellow water. Only then could he flush the toilets. You can imagine how horrible this was to the teenage boy, and how he had to shut his mind to reality to survive. Sometimes heavy weights were attached to his nuts and to the nuts of another young patient and they had crawling races, pulling the weights with their scrotums. The attendants bet on which boy would win, and the boy who lost was beaten and electrocuted. As the weights grew heavier, Paul's scrotum became more and more stretched. 

     Sometimes, when a guard was lazy or tired, or perhaps just in a good mood, he would lounge in a chair and watch tv, while Paul would kneel between his legs and gently lick his ballsack and dick. Paul grew to love and cherish these times, for at least then he wasn't being tortured. His ball licking times became the highlight of his incarcerated life.  He didn't even mind licking and sucking on the attendant's assholes, for then too, at least he wasn't being abused. True if you had asked this teenage boy if a few months ago he would have enjoyed sucking male asshole, he would have balked in outrage. But how quickly we can be taught to adapt. And at that young age, a boy can adapt all the more quickly. Paul continued to hate it however, when the attendants actually shit into his mouth. They would sometimes squat over his face and shit out big thick turds right into his mouth and he had to chew and swallow. He was forced to say which attendants turds tasted the best, and then of of course, the ones whose shit he did not choose, beat and tortured him. The taste of shit stayed in his mouth and the waste coated and caked his tongue and throat, and often he was given only piss to wash it down. 

    He also heated the times he was on Puke Duty. Many many of the patients were vomiting all the time. They would just lean over from their chairs and puke or puke while shuffling down the halls. The patient on Puke Duty, usually Paul or this other nice looking young teenage boy, were then made to crawl to the puddle of puke and lick it up. It was worse for Paul when he and the other young patient, whose name was Patrick were forced to do this together. For some reason knowing another young dude was watching you and doing it next to you, made it even more embarrassing. 

    Paul and Patrick were not allowed to speak, but they developed a kind of friendship, using only their eyes and facial gestures to console each other and share their agony. Paul began to live for those moments when he could see Patrick even it if meant some horrible weight pulling contest or Puke Duty.  He could see from Patrick's stretched red asshole, that the other boy was being sexually abused as well. Patrick must be there somehow under false pretenses as well. Perhaps he had been wrongly committed as Paul had been. Patrick was a very handsome boy, but the looks of both lads were beginning to deteriorate from the constant abuse. Paul and Patrick would eventually even venture a smile in each other's direction when they were sure the attendants were not watching. Those smiles helped them to survive. Sometimes the two teenage boys were required to kneel side by side and spread their cheeks to show the attendants their cunts. These cunt inspections were for some reason truly humiliating for Paul. To have to do this in front of Patrick seemed to made it all the more unbearable. 

    Probably the worst thing for Paul was the fucking machine. He was told by the sadistic attendants that this was all part of the process to turn him into a total cunt. They would strip him totally of his masculinity and force him mind and body to be a total cunt! Eventually he wold live with no thought in his cute teenage head except to service DICK. He would live only for DICK. He would only feel alive when he was nuzzling or licking or kissing big thick Cock! So they would strap him to a table, on his back or sometimes on hands and knees, and wheel in this long metal arm to which was attached a huge thick rubber dildo. The arm was in turn attached to a kind of pumping machine, so that when it was turned on, the arm would move back and forth, thus shoving the dildo into and pulling it out of Paul's tender raped asshole. The dildo's were hollow and leaked just enough lube to keep the hole slightly moist. In that way, Paul could be fucked from eight to sixteen hours without stopping. Can you imagine what it must be like to be fucked deep up the ass for sixteen hours straight? With the dildo pulling out almost all the way and then forcing itself deep into the bowels once again. The ass walls straining and the guts churning with each thrust. Just enough lube so the inner ass lining was not fucked totally raw. The attendants would adjust the speed of the fucking machine. Sometimes it was in for five seconds and out for five seconds, sometimes it was in for two seconds and out for two seconds. Sometimes in and out in one painful continuous motion. And now and then, just for fun, they would attach a second fucking machine to Paul's face, shoving a dildo deep down his throat. Can you imagine this none stop invasion going on for hour after hour? It is enough to drive anyone mad! Then they would stop to allow Paul four or five hours sleep, and then fuck him on the machines for another sixteen hours. Sometimes, they brought Patrick in to lick Paul's sore stretched asshole, and that was like the sun breaking through and endless cloudy day. The feel of the other teenager's soft tongue on his raw asshole was the only reprieve Paul got. He began to live for those moments. Sometimes Paul was made to hold his own ass globes apart as the fucking machine plowed into him. This was called "Making Love to your New Boyfriend!" Sometimes he was forced to masturbate his dick while being fucked by the machine. Of course he was not allowed to cum. His erect swollen prick was tied off painfully. If by some chance, he lost control and had an orgasm, he was punished horribly. In fact he was masturbated by the attendants and brought to the very edge and left that way, leaking and throbbing, and not allowed to cum! He was terribly embarrassed when he was forced to maintain an erection in front of Patrick. Again, he didn't know why. Sometimes the two boys were forced to masturbate each other, but not cum! Patrick had a huge dick and Paul began to truly enjoy pumping it. These times were like Heaven compared to the rest of the day. Still, with neither boy being allowed to shoot, it turned to agony. 

   And the dildos attached to the fucking machine got larger and larger. Ten inches and the thickness of a forearm! Paul felt like he was being ripped apart. 

He could no longer control his own bowels and urine. He shit and pissed like a baby, any time any where. Of course for this he was punished. His mind grew more and more numb. He would do anything to avoid angering the attendants, so he licked the crap encrusted toilets with enthusiasm, and he pulled the weights with no concern for the pain to his scrotal sack. His only reprieve was agony was in sleep. 

     And then the day arrived when Matt Henshaw came to visit. 


Review This Story || Author: dale10
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