The clang of the iron gate sounded like a death knell. We had sweated in the prison bus and were now awaiting orders in the unrelenting heat in the induction building.
I had landed in this country just three days ago, intending to buy a large camper van to tour for a couple of months. I approached the airport Bureau de change but the shutters were down.
"You just caught me," said a guy at a desk next to it, "If you only want domestic currency I can exchange up to six thousand dollars."
I was later sentenced to two years in prison for trying to pay for the camper with forged currency, how would I know? Obviously, it turns out the guy was not legit.
In the hot prison block a dark man appeared holding a cattle prod, he was tall, muscled and completely naked, his skin glistened with sweat. He also had the largest cock, ever. I mean a horse would be envious of this guy.
"All right scum, get out of those clothes and line up against the wall."
The slowest prisoners were 'encouraged' with the cattle prod.
"All the walls in my prison have a line 18" from it, place your heels on the line and lean back with your shoulders on the wall, arms folded behind you. This is called the 'Rest' position, you will do this whenever ordered - NOW."
The naked prisoners struggled to lean themselves back and, bracing with their arms, managed it, eventually. Ten of us were leaning at an angle, stomach muscles straining, dick and balls pushing forward and feeling vulnerable as the cattle prod was slowly directed at us in turn as he walked past.
"Again scum, only this time faster, the last three to assume the position get shocked."
We rushed to comply, some just slammed their shoulders back to the wall but inevitably some of us were slower. Once at 'Rest' the cattle prod was pushed into three stomachs, I was among the first punished. I stood with my stomach tensed, the sweat conducted the electrical charge into my guts, it was if a mule had kicked me and I convulsed with a groan, sinking to my knees, feeling sick. I knelt there with my breath knocked out of me but had the wit to scramble back into the 'Rest' position.
The third prisoner fell, to lie on his side on the floor, knees drawn up, groaning. The big guard walked back, his cock swinging thick and long, perhaps a little more erect than before. Leaning down he put the prod to the guy's balls, the spark could be heard briefly before the scream drowned it out, the prisoner jerked on his side as if fucking frantically. The guards cock rose further as he watched, this isn't just discipline he gets off on it.
"Right scum into the wash house, apply the hair removal cream all over your body, after 3 minutes, shower. Too long and it strips the skin off, not long enough, it doesn't work, then I strip your skin off with the whip," he lightly stroked his half hard organ with a plaited leather rope.
I slathered on the cream and stood holding my wrist, counting the pulse, somewhere about 210 should do it. I was amongst the first to rush into the shower, sluicing water over my arms, surprised at the amount of hair that came off from both hands and arms. The rest of the hair soon followed and I felt even more naked than before.
"Rest," came the command and the prisoners rushed to the nearest wall and slammed their shoulders back against it, pushing their smooth dick and balls forward for inspection. We all passed, although many were red and sore and of course the last man to adopt the position was given a shock to his hairless dick, making him cry out as he slumped down.
"You will work a full day for a full meal ration, less work means less food. Line up to get your prison number."
I stood in line and a sequential number, 1887, was stamped on the back of my hand and then pushed through a thick, vault like, door, where a recorded voice shouted "Rest."
I stood at the 18" line and slammed my shoulders to the door. The pain was unbelievable. When, finally, I could push off from the door I saw a red hot metal bar set into it with the words Packham 1887 in reverse, I now bore the brand seared across my upper back.
A door in front of me opened and I stumbled out into the prison proper, or improper as it turned out.
The other prisoners were returning from their work, cramming into a long corridor where overhead fire sprinklers were cascading water over the tired, dusty men. They were pushed forward by those behind and they, in turn, by the guards. Dark, naked guards were using electric shock batons randomly to goad the heavy footed stragglers. With packed, wet bodies, the dissipated shock was felt by many as they crashed and jerked like puppets into each other. The guards all had large rampant dicks as they then lowered the batons and pushed bodily against the slick wet bodies of the last of the prisoners. Pushing and thrusting their cocks against wet asses, moving the compliant mass of sunburnt flesh with their meaty poles, enjoying the feeling of power.
I was curtly beckoned forward by a guard and joined the last of the dripping throng as they made their way to the cells, the guards goading me with their hard cocks. One turned quickly to smack me with his cock to push me roughly into a cell to join the three who normally dwelt there. Shortly after the door slid shut, silence reigned, I sat on the only unoccupied bed in the narrow cell. Ranged against the long walls there were two sets of bunks with just thin mattress covers, and to the rear, a stainless steel toilet.
I said "Hi, I'm Jim, who are you guys."
"Shush," came a whisper, "There's no talking, no sound allowed at all."
