Juvenile Detention

By: Rick Masters
(© 2015-2016 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 24
The Next Punishment Detail

For his evening’s entertainment, Succum had requested the company of the one he knew to be the ring leader, Clive Phelps. Succum waited behind the door of the treatment room for the officer on duty in Solitary to bring Phelps in. He had already arranged with the officer to make sure that Phelps was facing away from the door when he fixed his ankles to the floor in front of the horse.

After the officer had left, closing the door behind him, Succum said in a cold but steady voice, “Do not attempt to turn around and look at me.” He then paused as he counted to a hundred in his head. “Have you worked out who I am yet?”

“I think so.”

“Who am I then?”

“I think you are Officer Succum.”

“Almost correct. I am Mister Succum, and it was one of my boys you chose to pick on.”

“I didn’t touch him.”

“No! You are not man enough to do it yourself. Judging from what I can’t see between your legs I now know why you get others to do your dirty work for you. Isn’t that so, Mr. Phelps? Or should I call you Master Phelps, because you are not yet manly enough to be called Mister?”

“It wasn’t me.”

“We have already established that. But you gave the orders, so in fact it was you, and it was your intention to hurt my charge in way that would affect him for the rest of his life. Just because you were jealous. Well now it is time to face the music, Master Phelps. Your victim is still in pain and under medical care. While you sit here languishing in comfort. That is going to change for a bit, so you get some idea of what you have done to an innocent person. Simply because you have not got the balls to admit that there are others out there who are far superior to you and better than you can ever hope to be.”

Mr. Succum waited another five minutes in silence and watched Phelps break out in a sweat as he waited for whatever was going to be done to him. Quietly Succum moved forward to get closer to Phelps without Phelps hearing him move. There was no rustle of clothes, because Succum himself was already naked when Phelps was led into the treatment room. His soft footfalls on the bare concrete floor made no sound and he was breathing too quietly to alert the boy to his being just inches away from him. Quickly Succum put a bag over Phelps’ head, the idea having come from an old film depicting an IRA kidnapping. The drawstring in the bag pulled the neck in tight, not enough to strangle the victim, but enough that the bag could not be pulled off without undoing the knot in the drawstring. Succum tied an extra couple of half hitches in the string to make it harder for the individual wearing the bag to undo the knots.

There had been no sound except a gasp of surprise as the bag was put over the unsuspecting Phelps’ head. In almost total silence Succum moved around to stand in front of Phelps. Phelps of course had no idea where Succum was, so it was a shock when one nipple was suddenly pinched and twisted. His natural reaction was to jerk back, which only increasee the pain, and he cried out.

“See what it is like to be taken by surprise? Well get used to it, because I have lots more surprises for you today.”

Mr. Succum quietly walked over to his bag and undid the zip on it. The length of time it took to undo the zip told Clive Phelps that it was not some clothing being opened but a bag. This warned him that something was coming, but what? Further silence followed the sounds of Succum rummaging in the bag. Knowing that he was in for it kept a sheen of fear-induced sweat from drying out on Phelps’ body.

Suddenly his balls were grabbed and pulled forward under the horse, making him press up against the horse with his stomach. He felt a cord being tied around his scrotum above his balls and then he felt tugs as the ends of the cord were fed up through the loops on the top of the horse and two more severe tugs as weights were added to each end of the cord, the hoops on the top of the horse acting as pulleys for the cords.

Phelps stood there stoically. He grunted a couple of times as the tugs on his balls elicited a level of pain others might have cried out for. However the weights pulling constantly on his balls was creating a dull ache in his groin. Mr. Succum unexpectedly pinched and twisted Phelps’ other nipple, getting another jerk back, but with a much more noticeable groan of pain as his balls were pulled in the opposite direction to that of the weights.

“Ah, it’s getting through to you now, isn’t it?”

Phelps did not even try to answer.

There was the clink of metal and then another groan as Succum dropped some extra weights onto each of the cord ends. The one thing Succum regretted about the inmates' heads being shaved was that in this situation he could not grab hold of the hair and pull the person’s head in the direction he wanted to. Instead, he resorted to putting his hand behind Phelps’ head and sharply pulling him forward so that his body had to bend over the horse. Of course this caused a reverse tug of his butt, which in turn pulled against the weighted cords around his balls, causing further pain.

Phelps knew better than to resist what was happening to him. He had already had several previous visits to solitary and the private treatment from an officer during the night. He did not try to straighten his body up when Succum let go of it, remaining bent over the horse. Succum proceeded to secure his wrists to the legs of the horse with some rope. Although this kept him bent over the horse, he still had a modicum of movement left, which was intended -- Succum wanted him to feel the tug of the cords against his balls many times over.

Another rummage in the bag and Phelps heard the clink of metal knocking against metal again and braced himself, thinking that more weights were going to be added to pull on his balls. He was wrong this time -- what Succum had was the clamps he had used on McDonald the previous night. As with the last time he fixed these onto Phelps’ biceps, screwing them up a bit tighter than he had done for McDonald. Succum got some pleasure out of seeing Phelps’ body tense up as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

Tapping each of them in turn so that they rocked on the arms and caused additional pain, Succum said, “Not very nice is it? And these have not made a hole all the way through the muscle!” He did not give Phelps a chance to respond as he brought his hand hard down on Phelps’ naked bum. This time Phelps cried out as the movement caused his whole body to jerk, pulling on his balls and also causing the clamps to shake, giving him pain on four points and increasing his discomfort from the bent over position he was being forced to keep his body in.

Succum smiled to himself as he quietly got four more weights out of his bag of tricks. Suddenly he let one fall onto another close up to Phelps’ ear. He clinked them again beside the other ear and then dropped one weight onto the right hand stack. Phelps groaned. Two more clinks and a weight dropped onto the left hand stack. More groans. More clinks beside the ear and a final weight was dropped onto each stack at the same time. Now Phelps had nearly a pound and half stretching his ball bag and squeezing his balls inside the bag at the same time.

Succum returned to his bag and made sure that he caused enough sound that Phelps would know he was getting something out. He clinked some other bits of metal together to trick Phelps into thinking that he was getting more weights, but those items were going to be used later. Unexpectedly Phelps heard a very short swishing sound and felt a line of fire across his butt. The shock and jerk added to the pain as before. Ten strikes later Phelps had tears dripping from his eyes, wetting the sack over his head. He also had angry red welts dividing his butt cheeks into sections. His balls and groin ached constantly, as did his biceps. His back was also in pain from being bent over the horse.

Phelps felt something cool and soothing touch his butt but it was not being spread all over like a salve. He immediately knew that his hole was going to be violated in some way and correctly guessed the way as the lube was worked into his crack and over his pucker. Succum pushed the head of his cock against Phelps’ bud and kept the pressure up, forcing his way past the sphincter against Phelps’ attempts to stop him by tightening his butt as much as he could. Once Succum’s head had penetrated the hole he rammed the rest of cock in hard and then began to fuck Phelps aggressively. Of course with each thrust Phelps’ body shook and the weights did their thing against his balls, with the clamps shaking his muscles at the same time.

Succum could feel his orgasm drawing close, but he was not ready to shoot his load yet, so he stopped with his cock buried in Phelps’ arse and leaned forward to speak menacingly into Phelps’ ear. “And this is only a beginning. Just wait. I am here all night to make sure you enjoy the evening as much as my charge is enjoying his evening.”

Succum continued to talk to Phelps, ensuring that Phelps knew there was no love lost between the two of them and that Succum considered him to be the lowest of the low life criminals that inhabited the United Kingdom. Once he felt that his cock had rested enough he straightened up and began to fuck Phelps some more. The brief respite only served to make the pain Phelps now felt in his balls even worse. And the fucking kept up the pull and jerk movement of the weighted cords around his scrotum. By resting a couple more times Succum was able to drag the fuck out for almost two hours, by which time Phelps was in a lot of pain. His back felt like it was being pulled apart, while his biceps felt like they had been trodden under the hobnailed boots of an entire army. His butt was raw and the cheeks bruised from the caning, but the worst part was the continuous ache he now felt right up in his groin, the pain from his balls being compressed inside the scrotum as each jerk pulled the skin of the scrotum tighter around the balls.

When Succum eventually allowed himself to cum, his last few moments before the orgasm struck were a frenzied, high speed, long-dicking work of uncontrolled animal action. The speed at which he was pumping back and forth hardly gave time for the weighted cords to drop down before he was pulling them back up as he worked his cock out of the butt it was nestling in until just his head was inside the ring of the sphincter. If the bag was not hiding it, Succum would have taken great pleasure in seeing the tears running from Phelps’ eyes as the pain forced those drops out faster and faster. As he came to the end of his orgasm, Succum pulled his cock out of Phelps’ hole and rammed a butt plug in. He quickly inflated the butt plug until it was too large for Phelps to push it back out, then disconnected the inflation bulb.

A few more strokes of the cane across Phelps’ bruised butt got him crying out in agony with each smack. Just the caning would have been painful enough, but with the added pain from his biceps and balls Phelps was close to full on crying. His body was quivering with fear and pain, and he was biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself from crying out.

As the last stroke landed squarely across both of Phelps’ arse cheeks Succum put the cane down on a table and moved silently around to the front of Phelps, where he squatted down to get a better angle. Reaching underneath the horse he wrapped his hand around Phelps’ cock and began jerking him off. The movement of his hand in both directions had the desired effect of causing the balls to tug against the cords and elicit more pain that would mask the build up to his orgasm and make it take longer with still more pain. However Succum sensed correctly that the stimulation of the nerves in the cock was overcoming the pain receptors; he stopped jerking Phelps before he shot his load out.

Succum went back to his bag and made some noises again, waiting a bit for Phelps to sweat it out before making noise as he approached the hapless boy. Clinking bits of metal together increased the sweat that was now dripping from his forehead and nose and wetting the bag over his head, hiding the signs of the tears that had dripped there earlier. But these were not weights to add to the cords. Phelps felt something cold against the skin of his stretched ball bag. After a few moments of feeling Succum fiddling around down there he felt some weight hanging on his ball bag but for the life of him he could not work out what it was. Then he felt the same cold feeling against another part of his scrotum followed by the feeling of some weight pulling on his scrotum against the pull of the cords. He felt the same sensations for a third and a fourth time before it stopped and he felt his hands being untied.

Clive Phelps tried to straighten up, but the pain in his back stopped him until Succum grabbed both his ears and jerked his body upright. At that Phelps could no longer hold in his scream. Then Succum just as quickly pushed him back to the bent position over the horse. Using the ropes he had just taken off of Phelps' wrists like a cat of nine tails, Succum gave him a whipping over his butt cheeks which caused him to stand up immediately and instinctively put his hands over his butt to either shield or soothe his cheeks.

Succum removed the hood from Phelps’ head and pulled him forward once more, but this time he was ordered to use his mouth to clean the drying mucous off of Succum’s cock. “That will make your foul mouth sweeter,” Succum sneered.

Once his cock was clean enough, Succum pulled Phelps back up into a standing position, where he was left while Succum dressed. Clothed once more, Succum approached Phelps and took the weights off the cords and then untied them from his balls. As Succum let go of Phelps’ balls there was soft rattling sound followed by a groan from Phelps as the stretching discs Succum had fitted around his ball bag followed the path of gravity and pulled down on the bag and pushed against the balls on the lower side of the discs. Succum had fitted four three-quarter inch wide bag stretchers onto Phelps’ scrotum forcing a three inch space between his balls and his cock. As a parting gesture, Succum opened a flask and poured some iced water into a small bowl, into which he dipped Phelps’ balls before pouring the water over his abdomen. This had the same effect as cold weather, making Phelps’ ball bag try to shrink back against the body. Three inches of steel refused to allow the scrotum to shrink, putting even more pressure on Phelps’ balls.

After packing up the rest of his equipment, Succum called for the officer to “Come and take this piece of shit away.” In all Succum had tortured the boy for over three hours and left him with the butt plug and ball stretchers. The butt plug he would be able to pull out as soon as he discovered how to deflate it, but the stretchers required a special tool to release the locking screws on them and were on his balls until Succum chose to release them.

To be continued...

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Posted: 03/25/16