Joe awoke suddenly. Dull gray light filtered through the bars on the window of this impossibly tiny cell. Groggy at first, he forgot momentarily where he was and why. Then the cold bite of the cuffs snapped him into reality–that, and the desperate, aching fullness in his bladder and bowels. He squirmed uncomfortably in the chair. He couldn’t move much, as the ropes around his waist and chest, as well as the ones holding each black-booted ankle to the chair legs, were very secure. The air smelled of dampness and unwashed maleness; it was musty and hot. The blue uniform shirt clung to his sticky torso; large circles of sweat showed at his armpits. His mouth was dry and thick with clabber. God, he had to use the bathroom! He knew he dared not have an accident. The boy had warned them both about just that. Wait a minute. Both!
He looked across at his cellmate. He didn’t know his name. Couldn’t ask him, either, as the gags hadn’t been removed at all since this started, except for when the boy brought food. He didn’t really know anyone at the prison, as it was only his first week on the job. He fretted about how this would end. Would he die? He also thought of home; his wife; his kids. He knew they were scared for his safety. It was hard to believe that the riot started five whole days ago. They had been tied in those chairs for almost a week! He could feel the brown monster bearing down hard at the back door, as if to make its own prison break. He shifted again in the chair, lifting his ass off the seat so he could break wind. He farted silently into his underwear, which gave him momentary relief, but caused his turd-log to edge ever closer to escape.
“Tony” was awake. He had made up the name for his cellmate because he looked like one; quintessential Italian. The kinky black hair combed straight back, thinning a little in front and on the crown, the nose that looked like it had been broken in a few street brawls, the strong, square features running through his massive body. Tony’s almost black-brown eyes were squeezed shut against the sweat that ran down his face. He moaned softly into his gag as he tossed his head back and forth. He was sure Tony was even more uncomfortable than he was; after all, the Italian didn’t get to finish urinating last night. The boy had suddenly re-tucked Tony into his snug breeches almost in mid-stream, set the bucket down, and gone scurrying off, leaving the tortured guard desperate for relief. That had been hours ago. Tony squirmed in his chair, his thick, hairy forearms tugging and jerking at the cuffs holding them firmly behind his back, his legs moving frantically back and forth. His eyes squinted and watered, and a short “braap” of gas escaped from his firm backside, causing an anguished look on his face.
Back in his own chair, Joe looked over at the cracked, dirty mirror. His own reflection–grungy, dirty–stared back. The brown, military-style flat top was about all that looked ordinary. Five days worth of stubble covered his greasy face. His hazel eyes were red, partly from lack of sleep, partly from the sweat running into them. He looked away, down at himself in the chair. His belly was slightly distended from the ever-growing anaconda in his rear. Another spasm hit him just then, causing him to squeeze his sphincter tightly. He felt a short spurt escape into his underwear. The piss was getting harder and harder to hold. He bit down firmly on the gag until the spasm passed. He eased back just a little on his bladder, and another fart escaped from his tortured anus. God! Where was that boy?
Ever since this started, the boy had been a godsend. He brought them food–lots of it–and water. For this, the guards were thankful, but it brought on a new dilemma. All that food going in and nothing coming out caused increasing discomfort. When he fed them, they would ask, plead ever more desperately for anal relief, to no avail. He also came down a couple times a day and pulled their dicks out of their pants and aimed them into a bucket so they could relieve themselves. The smelly un-bathed guard took notice of him when he did this. He was a handsome and decently sized lad. His athletic build revealed a likely history of sports involvement. Probably played football, the guard thought. His dirty blond hair was buzzed, giving him an older look, but he was probably about 19 or 20. He took good care of the two prison guards. He warned them, however, not to go in their uniform trousers, or there would be severe consequences. The last time he came to the cell, he appeared frightened, and walked gingerly. The guard suspected that he had been violated. The boy grimaced as he knelt down to take Tony’s manhood out. Tony just got a good stream going, when a gruff voice yelled out in the distance, and the boy took off.
He looked back across the cell. Tony looked to be on the verge of explosion. He was struggling; his eyes were wide and terrified. The hot, stale air of the room smelled increasingly of ripe manure. This was understandable, as they both were passing gas frequently, mostly involuntarily, but it gave them slight relief from the overwhelming fullness in their guts. He could feel his ass flowering open. He was sure that the monster was leaving skid marks in his underwear.
The cell door opened and the boy entered. Tony started to yell through his gag at the boy, and stopped suddenly. The boy was not alone. Into the cell walked an inmate that the guards recognized. He was tall and massive, his shaved head gleaming from the overhead lights, a jagged scar running down his face, from just under his left eye to the corner of his mouth. He had no shirt on, the power of his body only partially hidden behind the dense forest of fur covering both pecs and running down his belly into his prison-issue gray Dickies. He stood, leaning against the bunks, his heavily tattooed arms crossed, which made the huge biceps stand to attention. The boy came over and knelt, once again gingerly, in front of him. He spoke sharply, growling deeply. “How’re my fuckin’ pigs doin”? Tony kind of moan-screamed into the gag, partly in response, partly because, as Joe suspected, another spasm struck him. From where he sat, Joe thought it looked as though Tony, who had raised his firm, round butt off the chair slightly, was losing the battle with his own firm fudge log. He couldn’t be sure, but it looked as though there was a slight bump on the seat seam of Tony’s snug uniform pants. Just then, another spasm, the strongest yet, hit Joe, and he screamed into the gag and squeezed his powerfully muscled legs together in an attempt to keep the piss stream in. Oh, God, he knew the next spasm would probably be it. He could not hold it much longer.
The inmate walked over to Tony. With his back to Joe, the guard could see the thick tuft of fur that ran along his shoulder blades, and another that sprung from his waistband and up onto his lower back in a kind of upside-down triangle. He turned around when he got to Tony’s chair, backed up, and placed his round butt in the guard’s face. He then let a massive fart. He laughed heartily, showing his crooked, yellow teeth, as the poor, tortured man was forced to breathe in the foul stench.
“Boy! Get yo’ ass over here. We gonna give this poor fella’ some relief.” The lad leapt to his feet and hurried over to the struggling Italian and the grungy inmate. Tony’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut, tears of pain and discomfort flowing out from between the closed lids. The boy started undoing the binds around the guard’s ankles, while the inmate undid the upper body, all but the cuffs on his hands. He then jerked the man mercilessly to his feet, causing him to wince loudly as his weight shifted. From his seat a few feet away, the still firmly bound guard could see that the sudden movement had left a wet spot on Tony’s ample crotch. “What the fuck is this?” the inmate yelled at the about-to-burst man. “My boy tol’ you not to go in your pants. You don’t get no relief now. You get punished!” To this, the agonized prisoner began protesting unintelligibly through his gag.
He moved the Italian over to where Joe was seated, his solid buns only about three feet away from the face of the other man. He could see clearly now that, indeed, the man’s firm Hershey loaf was in contact with his underwear. There was a small, but distinct bump on his ass, right at that point. He momentarily focused again on his predicament, feeling his own grogan touching the chair seat through his backside. It was solid, almost like a foreign object lodged up there, and it was slowly forcing its way through to the inside of his pants. He believed, at that moment, he knew what it felt like to be sodomized.
A sudden movement brought him back again to his senses. The inmate had moved between them. His big butt was almost in the seated man’s face. He had reached around and ripped the shirt of the standing prisoner wide open, revealing his tangled mat of sweaty chest hair. He reached a paw around and started to roughly stroke the firm chest and distended belly in front of him. His rough hands worked their way around to the big, round ass. He reached up between Tony’s butt cheeks. “Oh, shit, my poor stud’s gotta go, don’t he”? He tapped on the small, hard knob inside those pants with his middle finger, eliciting groans from the trapped man.
“Boy! Bring me my knife.” The young lad approached the thug and handed him a small pocketknife. Tony, not knowing what was going to happen next, began screaming and struggling. “Hold him.” The lad grabbed Tony from the front and held the fighting man firmly. Now that they were standing face to face, Joe could see that the lad wasn’t small at all. He was almost as tall as the Italian, probably six feet, and he guessed around 185, and quite powerful. He was holding his own with the massive stud. “Better hold still, now, ya hear. Wouldn’t want to cut somethin’ that wasn’t meant to be cut.” He knelt down behind the smelly bottom and began to slice along the seam, opening the seat of the guard’s pants, right at his anus. It was big enough for…Oh, my God, he wasn’t going to–
Tony seemed to suddenly realize what was about to happen. He began to fight with everything he had. The boy held him firmly. The skanky inmate stood and held the knife to his throat. “Ya keep on fightin’, and Iâ€™m gonna stick this thing in your Goddamn neck!” With that, he reached into the hole and began to work the poor man’s underwear down and out of the way, exposing his hairy hole and the tip of the thick, hard loaf sticking out of it. The sadistic animal pushed the lad off Tony and turned the poor guard around roughly. “Get the fuck down here, and get my dick nice and wet, boy.” The boy came around the trapped guard and reluctantly knelt down in front of the inmate, wincing and grunting as he did so. He reached up and unzipped the gray work pants hugging the sadistic inmate’s beautiful body. He then reached in and pulled out what had to be one of the biggest cocks Joe had ever seen. Monstrous and malformed, it was even bigger in the middle than on either end, and it had a wicked-looking bend in it. It was also covered with a crusty brown coating.
“Whatcha waitin’ for, boy? It ain’t gonna put itself in yo’ mouth.” The boy began to plead, “Roc, please don’t make me do this!” “It’s your shit all over it, boy. It’ll be like takin’ a part o’you back inside. Did he tell you boys that he’s been holdin’ it right along with y’all”? Roc laughed cruelly. “And I fucked him but good las’ night, too. He got a cream-filled chocolate log, just like this one’s about to git!” Tony moaned loudly. Tears were streaming down his face.
Sadistically, the inmate now known as Roc grabbed the boy’s head firmly with both hands and began to force the shit-covered rod down the poor boy’s throat. Football-player-boy was no cock-sucker. He gagged and choked on the invading monster and, Joe thought, was about to retch. He pulled the boy’s mouth off with a sudden ‘pop’ and pushed him away. “Gonna’ git me some sweet fudge now.” Tony was babbling and weeping, the wet spot on the front of his trousers a little bigger now, but he was still managing to hold it, somehow. Joe wasn’t so sure about himself, though. He could feel the beginnings of a strong spasm, and knew that this would be the one that would cause him to lose control. He tried to form coherent words through the gag, but it just came out as garble.
Roc positioned himself behind Tony and squatted down. He then pulled the guard’s strong arms cruelly back and squeezed his body up through the cuffs, so Tony’s hands were now cuffed behind Roc’s back. Tony winced audibly as the new hurt was added to all the other pains he was feeling. Joe could see through his own watery eyes the look of pain and terror on Tony’s face as Roc began to push; his wet, throbbing member contacting the solid shit jutting out from Tony’s butt, and ever so slowly squishing it. The inmate placed one massive paw on the guard’s firm, hairy chest, and the other on his bulging, damp privates. His chest pressed firmly against the guard’s strong back, his mouth at Tony’s ear whispering hotly, “Fuuuuck, yeah, boy. Now, this is some turd-packin’ . God damn tha’t’s hot. Ya like that, boy? Na’ I betcha don’t.”
Tony was immobilized by the position he was in, so all he could do was scream into the gag. Tears streamed out of his tightly clenched eyelids; sweat poured down his face and chest. The soft ‘pfft’ of gas passing around the mammoth cock was followed by the gentle popping of compacting poop. The pressure in Tony’s gut must’ve been unbearable. Days worth of hardened fudge loaf was being slowly and mercilessly fucked back into his ass. “Yeah, that’s it, boy. Fart on my dick.” He squeezed the guard’s member hard through the Navy material, eliciting a groan from the tortured officer.
Tony could hold out no longer. All the pain and the intense pressure of the compressing manure and the invading cock against his bursting bladder caused it to give way. With a muffled grunt, he released his hot load into his trousers and the inmate’s cupped hand. The force of the stream was intense, so much so that piss sprayed through Roc’s huge fingers, soaking the front of the uniform trousers almost instantaneously and wicking up his round backside. Roc groaned with ecstasy as the officer peed himself, and he forced the remaining few inches of his swollen cock up the poop-filled bottom, the front of his Dickies resting firmly against the increasingly wet seat of the man he was sodomizing.
The hissing sound of the brutal piss Tony was taking in his pants proved too much for Joe. Like the sound of running water makes you have to pee, the noise, along with the intense spasm Joe was experiencing proved too much for his own tortured bladder. His short, powerfully built body pulled fruitlessly at the ropes and cuffs securing him to the chair. It was really more of an impulse than anything. He knew it would do no good. He clamped his legs tightly together and bore down on his sphincter as hard as he could in a futile attempt to stem the flow one more time. But it was not to be. It seemed the harder he squeezed, the more his piss-tube opened. With a sharp, quick breath and a stifled ‘aah’, he released his own torrent. The battle now lost, he threw his legs open as wide as he could and looked down at the unfolding mess. He was pissing so violently that the stream shot about an inch out of his crotch. The yellow liquid was pooling under his ass and dripping onto the floor around the chair. More yet ran down the back of his pants legs and into his black boots. He looked up at the inmate and the piteous guard helplessly.
The sudden relief in his front end caused his bowels to groan into action. The massive brown log in his asshole came to life and began to slowly force its way out, and nothing the poor guard could do would stop it. He lifted his butt cheeks off the chair as far as the bindings would allow, trying to make room for it. He could feel it slowly press into his snug, white shorts. He grit his teeth. It was so hard and so big, that it felt as if it were tearing him apart. He cried out into the gag. The seat of his pants began to grow as the invading monster took up more and more room. It crackled and formed its way into every space it could take up. It pressed down around his balls and just-emptied cock. Loud farts into the damp fabric of his trousers accompanied its exit. Five-plus days of needing to take a dump took their toll. The fudge worked its way up his ass crack and actually began to squeeze out the waistband of his slacks and into the small of his back. He went and went and went. Finally, it was over. Exhausted and relieved, he disgustedly lowered his ass back down in his wet chair, the act of sitting causing more of his massive shit to push up and out his pants and down into his crotch. His dick and balls were chocolate covered. His trousers were soaked and thoroughly shit-stained.
He looked up weakly. Roc was standing there, still firmly embedded in Tony’s ample ass. During this whole time, he had not even thrust once, just left the huge invader buried up to the pubes as he watched. “Damn, boy. Yo’ sure done made a big ol’ mess in yo’ pants now, didn’t ya.” The inmate punctuated this statement by whapping Tony’s hard, hairy pec with his huge mitt. “I bet y’all wish you could get some relief like yo’ buddy heah.” Tony was bearing down against the huge dick, trying to shit it and his solid loaf out of his butt. “Now, boy, y’all ain’t gonna be able to push my peter out yo’ poop chute, and yo’ turd’s too hard to squeeze around it, so, you ain’t shittin’ til I say you is.”
Joe could still see Tony’s abs contracting, trying to gain some relief. The occasional sound of the poor officer’s ass-gas the only indication of any sort of movement from the man’s anus. Roc leaned into his victim’s ear, and leered over at Joe as he whispered, “Tell ya’ what. I gotta go perty bad myself. So I’m gonna do this for ya’. I’m gonna go for both of us, and you gonna feel it and wish to god it was you!” The inmate laughed cruelly in the struggling officer’s ear. “Boy, get over heah,” he barked at the young lad who, up to this point had been standing in the corner next to the toilet squeezing his own ample bulge through his pants. The lad moved over to the two of them, not removing his left hand from his crotch. As he waddled by Joe, the guard could smell the boy’s own innards and knew he also was close. “Get ’round behind me and hold his hand on my ass. I want him to feel me pinchin’ a big loaf.”
The lad grabbed Tony’s hand and positioned it over the inmate’s butt. Roc held firmly to the guard’s hairy torso as he hunched over, forcing them both into a kind of wide-legged half-squat. His face contorted into a grimace, his teeth grit as he began to push. “Hold it there, boy! Yeah, that’s it. Feel that big shit log hit my pants!” The lad was holding Tony’s hand with both of his. He was kind of swaying back and forth in an effort to keep control of his own bowels and bladder. The boy had a disgusted look on his face. Just then, Roc farted loudly. His face and bald head were red from the pushing. Joe thought the man was probably as constipated as the rest of them. He noticed that the inmate was pulling his dick out of Tony’s butt as he was pushing, giving the poor man the feeling that he was crapping also. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, feel it buddy! Fuck, yeah, ya’ wish you could be doin’ this, don’tcha.
The inmate finished his business, the last of the ropey turd squeezing into his seat. His throbbing, shit-covered member was about halfway out of Tony’s ass. He told his boy to let go of Tony’s hands and go back to the corner. The boy obediently wandered back to the bunks, holding himself as he went. Roc got an evil grin on his face. He hunched down with determination, clutching at the hard, hairy body of the man in front of him. With one thrust, he slammed his hard, crust-covered dick back into the overstuffed bottom of the cop. He began riding the wailing man like a rabid dog, humping and thrusting, each slam accompanied by a cry from the horribly abused stud. The poor Italian could do nothing but howl and fart occasionally around the prisoner’s huge, malformed tool. Roc rode that large, solid, hairy butt mercilessly. He was fucking the poor guy so hard that Joe thought Tony was going to pass out from the pain.
Roc began to scream out in ecstasy, ” Fuck yeah, boy! I’m gonna sperm yo’ turd.” He humped hard against the gorgeous stud’s solid bubble butt in obvious release. His splotchy red face was twisted into a grimace of pure animal lust. He shot his huge, creamy load far into the rectum of the officer. Joe could see the thin strings of jizz dripping off of the convict’s ball, the excess running down his brown stained cock-shaft and hanging down, slowly dripping to the floor between the damp legs of the cop. The sadistic inmate continued to convulse and jerk against Tony for what seemed to be a full minute or so, finally completing his disgusting act and clamping himself around his victim; his lower body spasm-ing occasionally as if it were hooked to electric wires.
He stood a minute to regain his composure, his fully hard member still firmly embedded in the shit-hole of the guard. He whispered in the cop’s ear, “I’m gonna pull out now, an’ I don’t want none of my spunk or your shit comin’ out with it, so you’s better squeeze down while I pulls out.” The officer tried his hardest to comply, clenching down on his hole while the prisoner slowly withdrew his tool. This made the whole act even more painful for the tortured man. He winced audibly while his anus was evacuated, trying to allow the exit of the huge member while attempting to hold in his thoroughly tamped and spunked stool. The inmate sensed the sheer agony of his rape victim, and withdrew as slowly as possible, to prolong the discomfort of the hunky stud.
The huge rod finally popped free of the guard’s hole, a loud fart accompanying its exit. The crusty, brown cock and balls
hung out of the fly of Roc’s gray pants, the surrounding fabric covered with a coating of the prison guard’s shit. Roc reached
down through the fudge-covered hole in the seat of Tony’s pants to work the guard’s once white, but now yellow and brown
underwear back up over his buttcheeks. He reached down the waistband of the dark pants without undoing them in the front
to pull the underwear back into position. This pulled the front of the pants firmly against Tony’s bladder, causing him to wet
himself again. Roc could only grin and smirk at the officer’s obvious agony, discomfort, and humiliation. He pushed the
officer to the floor, retrieving a length of rope from the chair where Tony was tied before, and secured it around the guard’s
ankles, pulling his legs up behind him and wrapping the rope around the cuffs, effectively hog-tying the officer on the floor
of the dirty cell and leaving him there, a puddle of pee growing under him.
A sudden cry from the corner of the cell drew everyone’s attention to football-player-boy. “Roc, please! I can’t hold it no more! Oh, God!” Roc stood and began to move toward the boy. The massive load of crap in his own backside had squeezed into his butt-crack as he squatted down to tie the Italian, causing him to kind of waddle. He snatched the struggling lad up off the latrine where he had been seated through this ordeal and dragged him over to Joe, still seated in his own waste on the chair. “Not yet, boy, ya’ heah. You just a hold on a bit more.” He positioned the boy in front of the seated guard, grabbed his shoulders and pushed his rear end firmly onto Joe’s face. Roc then moved behind the chair, grabbing the boy by the waist and pulling him so hard, Joe thought he would lose consciousness. He could barely breathe, the only air coming through the stale ass cheeks of the struggling lad.
Joe prepared himself for what he was sure would be his slow death from suffocation. He knew that as the boy pissed himself, the liquid would soak up the back of his trousers, cutting off Joe’s airflow completely, effectively suffocating him. He struggled to breathe, trying desperately to catch a precious few last gasps. He was becoming light-headed. He could hear the boy’s screams and feel his struggles against the massive hands that held him in place. He could feel Roc’s arms over his shoulders, the sinewy forearms tightening as he applied pressure to the boy’s belly, but it all seemed cloudy and distant, as if he were hearing it all through a wall.
He felt the material of the gray pants begin to press against his nose; the acrid smell of the lad’s shit mixed with the salty-sweet odor of the sperm that Roc had shot up the boy’s ass the night before was nauseating. It was almost too much for Joe. He felt the bile rising in his throat He tried to swallow, realizing that if he vomited, he would surely choke. He felt wet on his crotch. Thinking it was from the boy, he tried to catch a last breath before the piss reached his face. He then realized that it was coming from him, all the struggling and pressure causing him to lose control again.
Through all this, he slowly began to realize that, although the boy was through shitting his pants, there was no liquid. He couldn’t figure it out at first. Where was it? He was suddenly jerked back to reality. The boy was screaming and crying. “Roc, pleeease! God, it hurts!” He could hear Roc’s evil laughing in his ear. He became aware that the sadistic inmate was squeezing off the boy’s prick as he pooped, not allowing him to piss. The discomfort and pain must have been intense, as the boy was screaming as loud as he could. Joe, however, was thankful for the boy’s misery, as it was allowing him to continue breathing, however foul the air. At least it was air.
Joe felt the inmate’s right arm move away as he stepped out from behind the chair. His left hand still firmly grasping the ample bulge in the boy’s trousers. He moved around to the whimpering young man and led him by his crotch over to where Tony was lying on the cell floor, every step accompanied by a pained grunt from the red-faced teen. Roc made the youngster straddle Tony’s body, then moved back behind him, still holding firm to his dick. He wrapped his right arm around the lad’s waist and began to press on his bladder, still pinching off his flow. The young man, strong as he seemed, was still no match for the much larger inmate, and his struggles were in vain. He could only stand there sobbing and begging for relief. Roc truly seemed to enjoy the torment he was inflicting. He held the boy in that position for almost another full minute before suddenly letting go of his crotch. The young stud gasped and cried out as he suddenly found relief in his trousers. The stream sprayed violently through the gray material, raining down on the hog-tied guard below. Tony struggled slightly, but seemed otherwise oblivious to the piss stream soaking him from above.
After another minute or so, the boy was finished. Roc grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the cell door. He paused for a moment, tucking his shit-slicked penis back into his trousers, before turning back to the guards. “Hooey, dat was lots o’ fun. Damn!” He spoke to Joe, while motioning towards Tony on the floor. “Yo’ buddy’s gonna be in a whole lot o’ hurtin’ when he goes to take a shit. I tore him up perty good. I ‘spect he’s gonna scream perty loud when he craps hisself. Wish I could stay to watch, but I gotta take the boy back to his cell. He’s got someone waitin’ there who wants to pull his shitty pants down and rape his ass!” The lad cried out “No, God no, please!” Roc dragged him, kicking and screaming out of the cell and down the hall.
Joe looked down at his partner on the floor. Tony was tossing his head back and forth. He began to grit his teeth against the gag so hard, Joe thought it looked as if he might crack a few. The olive hue of his face began to redden as he began to strain. The man’s poop log had been so violently compacted by the jack-hammering he had received, it had flattened and widened almost into a ball. The act of trying to force it out, even with the additional jizz-lube enema he had received was proving extraordinarily painful to the delicate, torn anus of the Italian hunk. Each push was accompanied by lots of farting and grunting; tears were streaming out of his tightly clenched eyelids. The position he was tied in wasn’t helping either. Being hog-tied, he couldn’t spread his legs, which would have made the whole act of dumping in his pants a little easier. He had to do it the hard way.
Suddenly, he opened his puffy, watering eyes and looked up at Joe. The torture this beautiful man was in was almost breathtaking. Joe gazed back at the guard, trying to convey his support and understanding through his eyes. Tony kept staring at Joe as he bore down as hard as he could. The pain on his face was intense. He cried out occasionally, but remained focused. Joe glanced back at the guard’s butt and watched the material slowly stretch as it filled.
Tony gasped one final time as he finished. His head collapsed back to the floor in absolute exhaustion. He lay motionless, every ounce of energy sapped from his body. Joe also was spent. Hopefully this horrible ordeal would soon be over and they would be rescued before Roc or one of the other inmates returned to inflict more harm on them.