Sewer Rats
by
Dougie fae Glesga
 
 

I was looking for a job. I had been working on a construction site in Newcastle but I left in a hurry after having a fight with two guys. I beat them up and one of them threatened to bring six of his mates round and "do me over". I decided to move to Sunderland, about 12 miles away.
At the Job Centre I told them I wanted an outdoor job. I didn't fancy working in a factory or a warehouse. I like fresh air. The only job I was offered was at a sewage plant.
A sewage plant and fresh air? Not a great combination but I needed the cash so it was better that than nothing.

The following Monday I reported at the site wearing the old scruffy jeans and boots I had worn at the construction site. I also carried a clean set of clothes to change when coming home after each shift. The guys at the site seemed quite friendly. There were five of them. Dave, Mike, Fred, Charlie and Jim. Dave, who was about my age, was the foreman. He told me I would be initiated by the rest of the crew later that morning. I wasn't worried, as I knew there was a lot of horseplay on many site and factories.

I wondered if I would be fucked. At the last building site where I worked I was fucked by four guys within the first hour. It's one of the hazards of working in a tough environment. If you complain then you're classified as a wimp or a sissy and nobody will speak to you.

The changing room was an old brick building with lockers for a change of clothing, a bench type table for taking our meals and six metal chairs. At the other end was a shit pan, a wash basin and an open shower. The whole place was fairly clean. In fact, it was the duty of the newest guy to clean out the place every morning and Jim had done that for the last five months.

After we had our lunch break the other guys took me to the shit pan and ordered me to kneel in front of it. My head was pushed into the bowl and somebody pissed over my head. I then felt the back of my shirt getting wet followed by the arse of my jeans. I was then ordered to lie on my back on the floor and some guys pissed over my jeans and shirt. Dave had a can with some shit that he poured over my jeans and my shirt and rubbed it in with his boots. That was it. I was now an official sewage worker. It was treated as a bit of harmless fun. Little did I realise that two weeks later I would be begging for my life from them.

During the next three days I got on well with the other guys. I found that both Dave and Jim were kinky as hell. They shared a flat (an apartment) together and every night Dave tied up his mate forced him to drink his piss and lick his arse before he fucked the bound guy. Dave had dropped hints that he would like to tie me up but I wasn't interested. I didn't really fancy him so I made the excuse I wasn't into kinky sex.

It was on Thursday that we were discussing soccer. I mentioned that I supported Gateshead United.
The others told me they supported rivals Sunderland and they didn't like Gateshead scum. From that moment my life was made a misery. I would have left the site then, if I had foreseen the treatment I was to receive from them during the next ten days. They swore at me, spat on me, picked quarrels at the least excuse and tripped me up on muddy sections of the site.

On the Monday afternoon I was standing at the edge of one of the tanks filled with shit. I had a long pole in my hands to drag up any debris among the shit. Suddenly I was pushed from behind and toppled head first into the shit. I was caught unprepared and swallowed a mouthful of shit as I landed face down in twelve inches of shit and another mouthful as I struggled to rise and slip, landing flat on my back. When I finally stood up and looked round about but there was nobody in sight. I managed to climb out and as I stood there covered in the brown slimy muck I was convinced I could hear guys laughing.

As I entered the changing room the five of them were there and they shouted sarcastic remarks like "Did the little boy have diarrhoea?" and "Have you been for a swim?" It was obvious from the smirks on their faces that one of them had pushed me. During all that week I put up with verbal abuse which became stronger on Friday because the following day, Saturday, Gateshead would play Sunderland. For once I hoped my team would lose.

On Monday morning I was unsure whether to go to work or leave the job for good. The pay was good and I needed the money. Gateshead had won by three goals to nil. I should have been jubilant but I guessed the others would be in an ugly mood. I took a chance and went to the site.

When I arrived they were all there. I found my clothes lying in the middle of the floor. The boots had been filled to the top with shit and shit had been poured over my jeans and my shirt. When I reached the middle of the floor Dave closed the door, locked it, took out the key and put it in his pocket.

"Good morning, Gateshead scum. You're here to work. Put on your working clothes." he said. "Or do we have to help you?" The five of them surrounded me. I removed my outdoor clothes and put on the shit covered gear. The moment I finished tying my boot laces they pounced on me.

"Now you'll find out what we do with Gateshead scum."
I hit out at Mike and punched him in the guts but I was too slow as the five of them pinned me to the floor. Two of them grabbed an arm each as another grabbed my legs and I was carried out and towards the sewer tunnel where the watered shit was pouring into a tank. The tunnel was 3 ft wide and 5 ft high. There was a 14 inch high river of shit moving slowly along.

I was forced to lie on my back among the shit facing the flow and large concrete blocks were tied to my ankles. Similarly, blocks were tied to my wrists and I lay spread-eagled in the tunnel. The way my legs were positioned they formed a dam and I could feel the shit as it crawled its way up the inside of my jeans, along the ankles, passed the calf of the leg, round the knee and up to the thighs. At the same time the shit seeped through my jeans to my balls and finally over my jeans and my outstretched arms and on to the exit.

"Let's build a dam." said Charlie "I want to see that shit rise round his face."
Using large blocks, the exit was dammed and the level of the shit started to rise. The five of them stood over me grinning at my plight. Dave stepped forward and putting a shit covered boot in my face forced it to the side until my mouth and nose were under the level of the shit.
I struggled but it was hopeless. Suddenly I received a kick on my balls. I wasn't expecting it and let out a gasp, swallowing a mouthful of shit in the process.
Dave removed his boot and I managed to breathe in air again.

"I always thought Sunderland supporters were fuck'n animals and you five are the lowest form, . . . rats." I said.
"By the time we're finished with you, you will tell us Sunderland are the greatest." said Mike.
I suddenly realised the shit was level with my mouth and if I didn't hold it up I would swallow the slimy muck. Panic came over me. I couldn't hold my head up for long and the level of the shit would get higher and higher.

"You bastards. You're trying to drown me." I shouted.
"We'll take the dam away if you say Sunderland is the greatest and Gateshead is scum." said Mike.
"For fuck's sake it's only a game of football." I shouted as I tried to keep my head up.
"Sunderland is the greatest" repeated Mike.

I looked at them all pleadingly but they all had an evil grin on their faces as if they wanted me to drown in the shit.
"Please. Let me go. I haven't done you any harm." I said as I came out in a cold sweat.
"Sunderland is the greatest" repeated Mike.
My head was getting heavier as I had to keep lifting it further as the shit rose.
"O.K." I shouted "Sunderland is the greatest. Now please let me go."

They all stood there laughing at me and watching the shit rise higher and higher.
"He doesn't sound very convincing." said Dave to the others "Perhaps he needs a little encouragement."
The rat lifted his shit covered boot and held it over my face for several seconds and shit dripped on to my lips. I kept my mouth shut. No way was he going to get shit down my throat. He pressed his studded boot into my face forcing it under the shit. I held my breath as long as I could and struggled but he held me down. I was convinced he was trying to drown me. I couldn't hold out any more and gasped in a mouthful of shit and nearly choked.
He finally lifted his boot and I gasped for air.

"Now, repeat it a little more convincingly, and also say that Sunderland is a great place to live and everyone in Gateshead are scum. If you don't, you go back under."
His ranting had now changed to the people who lived in the two towns rather than the football team but I didn't feel like playing a hero and said "Sunderland guy are the greatest. Gateshead guys are scum."
"Again" said Dave.
I repeated it and they all cheered. Fred kicked away some of the blocks of the dam and thankfully the shit level fell.
"Let's have a bit of fun with the bastard. Had anyone the tube?" said Dave.

What was the tube? I wondered. I soon found out. Mike held a mask with a long tube hanging from it. They tied the mask to my face. The inside had a tube 4 inches long which they forced down my throat. The mask blocked my nose and the only way I could breathe was through the tube. The loose end of the tube was tied to a rope from the tunnel roof.

I began to panic again as I saw them rebuilding the dam, but this time higher than before. They were going to submerge me in the shit and only lifeline would be this tube. "Let the scum see the shit all round him." said Mike "Put these goggles over his eyes" and he fitted me with a pair of goggles.

The shit rose over my face and then the goggles. The colour turned from a sick brown to a dark brown then black as all light was blocked out. The shit also blocked out sound and I lay in a silent dark world. Thankfully I could breathe fairly easily. How long was I to be kept in this shit tomb? It was probably five minutes later my mouth filled with piss. The rats were pissing down the tube. As the liquid filled my mouth I was forced to swallow it. For the next two minutes piss ran down the tube and I swallowed it to reach the pockets of air between shots of piss.

I lay submerged in the shit for six hours although it felt more like six months and during that time piss came down the tube at unexpected periods.
When the dam was finally removed the shit level fell to its normal 6 inches deep and I breathed a sigh of relief. However it was to be short lived.
"O.K. Scum. Who are the toughest guys?" said Dave removing the mask.
"Sunderland have the toughest guys." I croaked.
Dave grinned. "And where do the wimps live?" he said.
"The wimps live in Gateshead." I said.
"Now, repeat it six times" said Mike "or we build the dam up again."

I obeyed his order without argument.
Thoughts of being released were dashed when Dave said "Take the bastard inside. I've fancied fucking that arse of his ever since he arrived."
I was dragged back to the changing room and my clothes were forced off me. I was then dragged to the table and my writs tied to the legs while my ankles were tied to the other two legs. I lay there with my arse exposed.

"Ram a gag in the bastard's mouth" said Dave as he drew a belt across my arse. I let out a yell, which was quickly muffled as Mike rammed a filthy rag into my mouth. Dave continued belting my arse until it felt red hot, and probably looked it as well. He gripping my hips and then rammed his cock up my tender arse hole. As he was fucking my arse Mike pissed on my face, concentrating on my gag until I felt my mouth filling slowly with his piss.
One after the other the rats fucked me and all I could do was let out muffled grunts as they rammed my tight arse hole

When they had finished making use of my arse they dragged me back to the tunnel and forced me to lie naked among the shit. The original blocks had been removed but Mike found another batch and tied my wrists and ankles as before. The gag was still in my mouth.
"See you in the morning" said Dave, "and we all want to hear you repeat our slogan."

It was 5 p.m. and they were going home leaving me here all night. I had already decided during my first immersion that I wouldn't come back to work tomorrow. Now it looks as if I would be here whether I liked it or not. I tugged at my bonds in frustration. I felt one of the blocks move. I pulled again. The block moved again.

I suddenly realised these blocks were smaller than the first lot. If I could pull the two blocks together I might be able to untie my bonds. It took me less than a minute to bring the blocks together and then another ten minutes to untie my wrists. I thought I was going to be beat but the thought of these rats humiliating me again in the morning spurred me on. I untied my ankles and was free at last.
Quickly I showered and dressed in the changing room and then made a dash for home. I packed a case and left in less than an twenty minutes.

That was over a year ago. Now I live in Liverpool, 150 miles away and had almost forgotten my ordeal. I had met this handsome skinhead in Liverpool and settled down with him. In a way it was good for me. Haven't been in any fights, seldom got drunk.
We fuck each other almost every night but no bondage, no piss and no shit. Just straight forward fucking in the nude.

It was on a Saturday night that I was walking along a street where my I live in the Walton district of Liverpool when a Transit van passed me. I stared at the guys in the cab. They reminded me of Dave and the rats in Sunderland. Probably my imagination, I thought and carried on. I now had a skinhead haircut so they wouldn't recognise me.
About three minutes later I turned into a side street, which wasn't well lit. I was deep in thought as I passed a parked van. Suddenly six guys sprung out and pounced on me. Within seconds I was lying on the ground. One held a rag to my mouth as other tied my legs together then my wrists and finally gagged me.

I recognised Dave and his rat pack. They bundled me into the van and drove off.
"Now, Isn't that a lucky break seeing you here. We'd like to invite you back to the sewage works and complete that little party we had last year."
He pointed to a guy I didn't recognise and said "This is Lennie. He took your place when you left. He's also an avid Sunderland supporter and was beaten up and fucked by four Gateshead supporters a month ago. I bet he wants to get his cock up a Gateshead bastards. We can be back in the sewage works in about three hours.

I think we should show Lennie what we did the last day you were with us. A repeat run for his benefit and we have all day on Sunday to make sure you say the right words "Sunderland guys are the toughest.", and we all want to feel that arse of yours again, several times."

 
 
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2012