what i had to do to save my life (part 2 )

[Luis Adam Bree]

The younger guys today – they are so brazenly open they use a Google group and talk on that web site and by email with no thought of who is reading their correspondence. Their lack of security is definitely not good for their future no matter what they get into. Prepping the soldier for the group, the one who was picked up hitch-hiking took me a long time to do just right. It was at least a half hour to go up to the elbow. I had to fish around inside for the openings in the gut through which I could insert my fingers that I held into a cone shape. When I passed through his muscle "rings", he screamed loudly and I felt the constrictions along my arm from the effort he used in screaming. No one was telling me to go faster. The remarks seemed to me that they enjoyed watching the soldier squirm on my arm. The soldier was probably straight, so his ass was virgin. When I do fisting, I try hard not to injure the bottom. I don't think I perforated the bowel of the soldier. I remember that my arm and hand came out without blood. I also remember using a tub of lard, not Crisco. The SM Masters wanted me to carry the lard into the bowel. They preferred the taste of the lard as it may have been homemade from beef or pig fat. They may have bought it from the butcher who could produce some as a by-product of his business. A lot of small businesses there made boutique type of products. The amyl definitely put him in an out-of-body experience as it was the real stuff and the real stuff is very strong. Thinking about it, I'm glad he focused on the arm in his ass and was flying when the weights dropped. No time to feel anything after that. His eyes remained wide open. When released, his mouth dropped open and his tongue fell out or flopped back in if the head were held face up. That diabolical bench happened because of an accident that was told and retold. The machinist or metal fabricator, who had a shop to do welding and construction of welded platform parts, put together the bench. After, pieces were added to it, like the second pin to let the weight box fall a short distance to pull the head back a short way but with full force. That was an entertaining sadistic touch as it gave the bench rider the time to inhale and scream loudly before the second pin was pulled. Hearing the scream cut off right in the middle was the object of the modification. I certainly heard it enough times and it hit me hard each time. Raw soldier nuts are tough but they give it up to teeth. There's the taste of blood at first until you wash it off with your tongue. I liked to swish a loose nut around in my mouth and enjoy the feel of it before biting down with my molars. The blood cords usually survived the chewing. You get the sperm taste when the cover breaks open and the inside comes out. That's the taste of the pure sperm with no prostate fluid, and it is stronger than cum. I imagined a sensation like fizzing, which I thought was the sperm swimming in my mouth. I chewed on the balls one by one for a couple of minutes until they were flat enough and in small pieces or chunks I could swallow. I was fed a raw diced heart and found that muscle meat took much effort to chew and that it was really gamey with the taste of blood. I've never enjoyed raw meat after that part of my experience. Steak tartar was forever off my diet. A cock does not deflate fully when cut off, unless it's squeezed out. A hard cock has a lot of blood still in it. Shoved into my mouth, I had to relax my throat and just take it when it was pushed in. Once it is into the throat, swallowing fast again and again moves it down. I felt it sliding down most of the way. After a while, I burped and had the aftertaste of blood as my stomach had squeezed the blood out of the cock and was digesting it. Squeezed out cocks are much easier to swallow whole, though it is awkward to push it deep. A semi-erect cock pushed by a finger easily, or a dildo, or a hard cock fucking mouth after it pushes the loose cock down the throat. Two days after swallowing the whole cock, I thought part of it was eliminated, but I couldn't be sure. One Master liked to put me into full dog mode and have me squat to shit on the lawn near his rose bushes and then shovel it into the flower garden. He was mean enough that, had I been his rental dog and had shit out an undigested piece of cock, I would have had to eat it again. As a rule, I was not in the habit of examining what came out of me. The captures that were weighed often were aware but whether fully aware or not was not always evident. A lot probably depended on when they had eaten last when they got drugged. Those kept for a time were almost all volunteers. The soldiers were too interested in escape and required full restraint at all times. Castration healed well after a week to ten days, when the outside sutures would fall out or, if silk sutures used, cut off. I could do geldings fairly well. Only the Doc removed cocks, though he limited that to stumping them flat with the stomach skin and not invading the tissues within the stomach wall. That healed well also within a couple of weeks, with Foley catheter in for the first week. I think a large consideration in the handling of involuntary pigs was the risk involved if they were discovered for any reason. With the volunteers, that risk was very low as they were researched, apparently, very well and were markedly eager in their role. Once the butcher had packaged meats, they were just packaged meats, mostly. Those cuts such as tit steaks were consumed first, along with some other tidbits. I got to eat the cooked anus from most, along with cooked tongue. I was surprised when I found the Masters were more interested in the meats that were roast or steaks than in the delicacies. Those delicacies they enjoyed feeding to their bulldog, preferably when the dog was naked and eating from a doggie bowl. A few of the Masters enjoyed cooking the organs and I found that I liked the kidneys that tasted much like veal kidneys that I got to like as a kid when my family was living cheaply. Liver was like calf's liver when cooked quickly with sautéed gold onions and seasoned with thyme and a little lemon juice, which is how I prepare calf’s liver today. Butcher would reserve hearts to make a really good hearty chili. The meat had a good consistency like the very leanest beef or venison, which is what he called the chili, his venison chili. If you've ever had roasted heart from anywhere, you'll know what it tasted like. My diet was very rich in red meat those days and I did well with regular hard work for the Masters. My military duties at that time involved intelligence and I had to be meticulous in keeping my duty section informed of where I was living and where I was going at all times. My own Master knew of my military duties and he understood I was a sensitive asset to the military. I got the impression early in my time within the group that I was well protected by all. I gave them a great deal of advice related to operational security, as I was receiving current and the best and latest in that area from military intelligence training. Being former military, they respected my training, and they used my training to have me follow orders. I never talked back, never made more than one mistake of any kind, and learned from one failure to be the most respectful. Forced exercise was meted out, along with some nonmarking caning, just once. That was definitely enough to make a lasting impression. Most of the time, Masters enjoyed me for sex, very slow fisting, cock sucking, fucking, role play, and the main duties as killer bulldog. I was not sadistic but played the sadistic role in scripted scenes dreamed up by the Masters. They enjoyed watching such scenes rather than doing the action themselves. It gave them a distance from what was happening at the same time that it was their direction being followed. They could also stroke their cocks for that satisfaction. I came to understand the intent of most scenes. One scene sticks with me. Young well-built hung AWOL. Once he was strung up between two posts by the two Masters, with his arms stretched out and legs stretched out, I got to shave him completely with a that I honed on an old style leather and canvas strop. I used soap and shaving mug with brush to apply the foamy shaving soap. The soldier was hard right away and stayed that way through the whole shave. I had to use the straight razor in the tight spots such as between his ass cheeks and between legs and around the balls. The barn had a hose with a shower head and I could rinse off the soldier and then dry him off. The Masters inspected him like a prize calf, pinching his large muscles, talking to each other about how much he'd dress out to be. It was talk I knew but the terms were strange to most. They had me continue with the script. The script called for the shaving to end and then I'd do a slow collection of his sperm with a blow job followed by cutting his balls off with the straight razor. He screamed as loud as I've ever heard a man scream as he bent over as far as he could and watched what he could as his balls were cut off. I then slowly cut off his cock and then opened his stomach from pubic bone to sternum. His screams got less as his guts began falling out and he began rapid breathing, panting and gasping. When the stomach wall is opened to the chest, it really interferes with the diaphragm being able to breathe deeply. His arms were stretched out and up, so there was the added pressure on his chest as in crucifixion. He was unable to scream loudly after that and he started to cry. It was clear to him that he would end there as he saw his guts being removed. The bladder comes out first, then you can reach inside to the rectum and tie it off above the anus and cut it free without spillage into the cavity. The mesentery holds the intestines against the abdominal wall with small connections that are easy to cut to free the guts as a large mass. Butcher liked to remove the mesentery and use it in some cooking as it makes a good wrap for ground meat. He also used the guts for sausage making. The soldier grew weaker and slumped between the posts and labored with breathing and then just stopped. The heart stopped after another minute or two and bleeding stopped. That made removing the remaining intestines a little less messy. After I left the area and the group, I never looked back. I never talked with anyone else about the group. I later joined a few SM clubs. They turned out to be purely vanilla, relative to the group I had been with. With today's electronic communication, and especially with the government agencies now snooping on everyone, I have a lot of reluctance in contacting some of these easily found groups and people. I'd rather work through some discrete existing contacts who can make very quiet and direct inquiries. Today, there is far more likelihood that a solo rogue with a good location and facilities could work in complete secrecy with volunteers rather than captures. Everyone has a sort of electronic GPS trail following them around in the cloud. Many people do disappear and quite a few manage not to leave anything behind, especially if they want to go missing and take measures to make that happen. In my case, I was just following regulations when I kept my residence on file with my duty section and commander, but that provided a safe tether for me that the group respected. I had some extreme sessions where they put me into situations that were often frankly terrifying no matter how many times I had terrifying scenes that ended safely but with me emotionally and physically drained. I had to just kneel down and lap at my water bowl after these scenes. A Master would then bend me over a regular type fuck bench and breed my ass while petting me gently. I did all they ordered me to do as I felt I had to obey them in order to survive. I did have some really bad shakes some nights with dreams that had me waking in the middle of the night completely wet with sweat. It didn't help much that I was sort of rented out or lent out to different Masters who enjoyed having a pet dog or their own naked soldier to play with. When I woke, it took a while before I remembered where I was. My military intelligence duties were paranoid-making and that training gave us students a twisted view of reality. It complemented my life inside the group. Going from one to the other involved a sort of switch of mental outlook. We were trained to think outside the box. I don't think I returned to normal until my transfer East happened.