Jailed Hero

The choice was his.  200 lashes as he was, or 100 naked.  The prison guards knew he wouldn't want to be seen taking the whip stark bollock naked in front of the gathered prisoners, most of whom hated his guts.  He was too good for them, a military hero who found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.  A slight pause.  He knew what 200 lashes would feel like, what it would do to a man.  All he had to do was let them delicately pull that white lace, and pretend his pants were still on.  No way.  He muttered `200`.  Six months later, when the general jail riot broke out, he was chained up here again by the rioting horde.  They hated him even more for the 200 he'd taken, and they remembered alright.  Nothing gets forgotten in jail.  Although the chief riotleader was brandishing a whip it wasn't used.  He just delicately pulled the white lace, leering into his face.  A couple of inmates pulled the trackie bottoms down and cut them away with Stanley knives.  Then without further delay one of them grabbed his balls and sliced his ballsac off with the knife.  He stood there, legs spread wide, trying to maintain his pride and dignity as blood ran down his thighs.  His cock hung flaccidly, but they knew he still had spunk in him.  One of them grabbed his cock and jacked him.  He was horrified that it got hard in the lowlife's hand, and he felt himself cumming.  He shot his load and a massive roar went up that could be heard by the gathered SWAT and police teams outside the prison walls.  He broke down and sobbed, as his bollocks were passed around and kissed by the rioting men