Pacific Penal Colony
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Coercion, Slavery, Fiction, BDSM, DomSub, FemaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Humiliation, Sadistic, Torture, Snuff, Black Female, White Male, White Female, Oriental Female, Oral Sex, Masturbation,
Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - 'Lifers' and reprobates of various kinds are sent to a remote Pacific penal colony when they have embarrassed their government too many times by escaping other prisons etc. No death penalty existing. The island is made up of two halves; little or nothing is known about the other half, and as there is very little supervision in what is basically an open prison, meaning many prisoners simply depart at will for the unknown; the female Governor turns a blind eye to this: aware they won't return.
The Governor was never too careful about head counts on the island, what did it matter? There was nowhere to go; the island was split by a mountainous range into two sovereign states, but apart from the other half of the island which nobody seemed to know or care about, there was a thousand miles of Pacific to traverse before anything like civilisation could be found. There was no urgency about a census from the ruling government several thousand miles away either; men came, few left as most were troublesome 'lifers' - no death sentence existed, regardless of how heinous a crime had been committed- most ended up in the penal colony graveyard after ten or twenty years of sun, sand, and purposely poor diet. The fact was that men just 'disappeared' with an alarming regularity which was only recognised by other inmates; this was not registered by the authorities, out of sight, out of mind was sufficient enough for the government, the men were fed just enough to keep them alive; less mouths to feed was seen as a bonus. All this 'convenience' was accepted by the prisoners, but the truth was another matter.
The men were tattooed on their scrotums with their penal number; this had long been the tradition here. Men had been known to cut away or disfigure parts of the body where tattooing had previously been tried, to hide their identity on the few openly recognised escape attempts; the Governor who had instigated this had figured, and quite rightly so, that the one place a male would be reluctant to cut or disfigure, would be his balls. As 'escapes' were rare, the number was usually only required when an inmate died of disease or old age, so needn't be in a spot which was readily viewable.
Rico rubbed his sore sack as he laid facing the vast blue ocean and waving canopy of palm trees from the new intake hospice; on being released from the darkness of the prison ship's hold, he could not quite believe what he saw. Having been jailed for life for a crime he did not discuss with anyone, he had been a chronic escapee; he had spent six months of his three years so far served, on the run from various prisons. The authorities were keen to ensure this did not happen again, so here he was. The whole set-up seemed like some crazy holiday paradise, and when his balls settled down again, he was determined to see just how far he could go, there being no obvious walls or boundary fences from what he had seen so far. For now, he nursed his sore sack which had been tattooed with his new identity; 570-H. Rico guessed the 'H' was for 'homicide'; he was correct.
The next day, Rico and the five other new men were taken to the Governor's office; his cock perked when he saw the Governor was a not-unattractive middle aged woman. His cock stiffened as she strutted with authority before the men; it had been eighteen months - the last time he'd escaped for any length of time- since he'd smelt the delicious whiff of a cunt, and he wondered what hers would smell like, it was difficult to focus on what she was saying.
"I've no need to remind you of course, that attempts at escape are futile; you men have been brought here because just such an instance has never occurred and never will. The route across the hills and mountains to our only neighbour's territory is very treacherous, and the chances of finding any sizeable fishing boat there would be very remote; there may be many small islands in between, but civilization is a good thousand miles off." Governor Harriet Hawking smirked to herself as she turned away from the men; she knew her speech would sow the seed of a challenge within many of them; what waited for them beyond the hilly border would be far from the leisurely comfort of the colony.
Rico kept an imprint of Harriet Hawking's figure in his mind and masturbated vigorously as soon has he had the opportunity; he grunted with pleasure and shot a generous wad of semen as he imagined her cunt, open, aroused and richly scented. Three of the other men, also deprived of any close contact with women, did likewise. One of them, Bruno Wilkes, shot his load in ecstasy as he imagined slitting her throat after trussing and beating her; his tattoo was 161-R, Wilkes was a convicted rapist. Another, Lucas Reeves, gratefully shot his load as he imagined licking her feet after she had whipped him before an imaginary board of female officials; this incurable streak for domination by females would ensure he lived a little longer than some of the others, but he nor the others knew what lay ahead. Reeves tattoo was 358-S; he was a sexual offender, caught too often peddling pornographic wares and making no tax contribution, he unknowingly became embroiled in a conspiracy plot with a politician's wife; compromising pictures of her caning him while her bound husband watched, ensured the political downfall of the politician, and Reeves' trip to the island.
As the days went by, Rico became familiar with certain faces which then disappeared. Each day there were new arrivals, yet the place was never overcrowded. Jarvis, an old boy with a stiff leg he had acquired in a shoot-out with cops when he was nineteen- three of the cops being his reason for being there- spoke frankly with Rico about the colony's situation. Jarvis had not known of a funeral at the cemetery for about four months, yet the turnover of prisoners who were there, and then not there, amounted to hundreds. It was not just the odd individual or band of men going missing every six months or so; it was more like one in ten on a weekly basis. Jarvis mused.
"Either there's a 'Shangri-las' the other side of those hills, or a thousand mile bridge that the Governor doesn't know about, because one thing's for sure; nobody ever comes back."
Later on, under cover of darkness, Rico was out walking close to the Governor's house which in keeping with the rest of the colony, was open and unguarded. His cock rose as Harriet appeared on the veranda in the warm night air, dressed in black chiffon, her shapely body easily viewed. She was speaking with a woman who had been seen by some of the men, arriving in a small boat which could not have come far, but which no-one thought too much about; the female form itself a distraction to any reasoning thoughts on an island where the men were kept hungry, yet something in their diets seemed to keep them easily aroused. Rico helped himself to another satisfying wank in the bushes below; she certainly was the most attractive Governor he'd seen, but she would not keep him a prisoner; tomorrow he and six new friends would set out for the hills. He heard the women laugh as the one from the boat emptied out a rucksack with what looked like small leather samples. Rico's desire to escape meant he didn't give the items a second thought.
Harriet's neatly shaven cunt, so wildly imagined and honoured by many pints of semen shot in tribute to its imaginary image, buzzed with pleasure as she crossed numbers from a board, and moistened on the occasions she crossed through certain numbers easily recognised. Her female visitor left during the darkness, to be ready to set sail at dawn.
Also just after dawn, seven inmates having had their meagre breakfast, casually strolled eastward with what little supplies they could carry. Rico glanced back on occasion; half expecting the few guards there were available, to come after them; none did. As he glanced back, Harriet smiled through a large pair of binoculars with some satisfaction, and a very slight pang of regret, as she saw the figures in the far distance get ever smaller; she would have liked to have had Rico as a trustee; he would have made a nice pet. She smirked as she noted one of their number was Wilkes the rapist; he would not stay alive for very long.
It was about noon on the second day when the band edged down a hill to the wild beach; they could see what looked like a fairly impenetrable ridge of steep cliffs and outcrops which prevented them from proceeding across the island's narrowest point; the cliffs at the headland ahead were fairly low and they might get round via the beach, even if they had to swim a little way. It was now becoming apparent why so little was known about the other half of the island. Now weak with exhaustion and the perpetual poor diet, they were relieved to find that they could paddle waist deep in most places as they traversed the headland; only having to swim about one hundred yards or so, before wading again for another three hundred. They gratefully came ashore to thickly wooded hills, and after a short rest, they picked their way through the dense trees. They were brought to a halt by a natural rift in the landscape; the woodland stepped abruptly down and they wandered up and down until they found a spot where the drop was only fifteen feet or so at its lowest point. One by one they slid down; they realised at this point that there was no going back in a hurry; this was a natural barrier to any return which would need a decent ladder to access. As they descended the slope below the rift into the cover of the trees, they were once more studied through binoculars by female eyes which smiled from afar.
They struggled on till late afternoon; they were so close to the top of a line of hills which they were sure would give them a vantage point when two or three dropped to their knees and said they'd go no further that day. Impatient to see what lay beyond, Rico, Wilkes and Reeves left the other four there to make camp, and persevered through the glades and plains to the nearest dip in the skyline. After another half hour or so, they reached a point where they could see across a valley to what looked like a large habitation surrounded by a wall in the distance. As Rico turned to acknowledge the sight with the others, he heard a dull crack and Wilkes dropped to the floor; as he looked on stupefied he heard the same sound and saw Reeves grasp at something in his shoulder before he too, dropped like a sack. Rico turned as he heard a sound behind him; despite being exhausted, his cock rose at the sight that befell him; two plump and attractive women with tight jodhpurs and riding boots, whips at their waists, stood smiling at him with their breasts heaving. One with brunette hair pointed a strange looking pistol at him, her face broadened into a wicked smile as she pulled the trigger.
"Welcome to the final days of your life!" The two laughed as Rico groaned as the dart hit him, and he joined the others in darkness.
Rico awoke trussed and naked, to the sound of Wilkes begging for mercy. As his eyes focused he saw Reeves also naked, hands tied behind his back, his cock rudely erect as he viewed the now naked women noose the pleading Wilkes. Wilkes begged the smiling women for mercy as they threw the rope over a bow, tied it to the saddles of their two horses and cracked a horsewhip smartly. The horses duly marched forward in unison several paces, and the bound, naked and noosed Wilkes was hoisted aloft, his screams quickly replaced by choking and gurgling noises. As he danced at the end of the rope, one of the women stood masturbating; a knife in her free hand, while the other nursed Wilkes' cock to a handsome erection. As Wilkes jigged his dance of death and turned blue in the face, he grunted in ecstasy with virtually his last breath as he shot generous wads of semen, much to the satisfaction of his smiling masturbator. The other woman moaned as she enjoyed her orgasm too, and then stepped smartly forward with the knife. Wilkes was almost gone when the masturbator pulled his cock obligingly up to allow her colleague access to his sack is she squeezed the last of his cream from his spent bell-end. With a deft stroke, scrotum and contents were removed; Wilkes balls were simply dumped in the dust beneath his feet, as the tattooed sack was placed in a saddle bag. As the two executioners turned to the remaining two men, Reeves' cock bobbed rigidly in a submissive ecstasy; it was apparent to the smiling naked women that he was happy to face the same fate, though Rico's was only half erect; he could not help but marvel at the efficiency and eroticism of Wilkes' dispatch.
The blonder of the two women, who had masturbated the now castrated wretch, walked up to the kneeling Reeves and slapped his face several times, then pulled his face into her excited and moist cunt; Reeves duly lapped with pleasure as the bitch held his head by his hair.
"I know a submissive when I see one; you'll not die today, instant death on capture is reserved for rapists only; 161-R has paid the only acceptable price in this realm. Submissive males are invited to give up their seed in good quantities for scientific experiment before death is allowed; we will have much pleasure from you before you die, but die you will." She moaned with pleasure as Reeves transmitted the excitement he got from her words to his tongue; the cur was already willingly owned by her. The other took her horse whip and toyed with Rico's cock until he was hopelessly erect; aided by the glorious whiff of her recently satisfied cunt, which was now in a state of re-arousal. She gently pulled his head in and Rico was also more than willing to savour the taste of her labia.
"When your friend has satisfied my colleague, we will ask him nicely where the other four members of your group are; we saw seven of you at a distance. He may be willing to tell immediately, but as he is openly submissive, we'll demonstrate how we like to do things here. The sooner you release the submissive side which lives within you, the sooner you'll resign yourself to your death. You are a very handsome man, and I expect you'll be kept alive for a lot longer than most if you offer submission to your betters." Rico's cock was now yearning to shoot as he lapped at her delicious essences; he dreaded to think was in store for Reeves next, but was glad he was in the company of an openly submissive male. After both females had moaned their pleasure, Reeves' smiling captor had him lay on his back, whilst the one who had been serviced by Rico went to her horse and retrieved something. With a broad grin she stepped toward Reeves with something that looked like a skewer. Reeves was terrified as he was held down while she approached, but his submission kept his cock rigid; it knew pain was coming.