I'm Brought Back To The Barracks

I let out a soft and pitiable moan as I am dropped onto a hard stone floor. I am naked, and still sore from the brutal pounding I just endured. It takes a while to adjust my eyes to the dim light yet there is a familiarity in this dim area. I cry softly when it dawns on me that I have been returned to my cell in the barracks.

"Please..." I manage to **** out, my mouth is still dripping from the massive amounts of cum I was **** to drink, "Please no more. L-l-l-let me rest. Please..."

A chorus of chuckles erupt around me, forcing me to hang my head in shame. I should have known better than to beg, doing so only excites my captors. Tears stream down my cheeks as I am roughly pulled up by my hair. My glazed-over eyes stare into a particularly hairy guard with a thick black mustache.

He spits in my face, and I wince slightly. I feel a rope being wrapped around my wrists, and a tight pull on it brings me to a kneeling position. The guard with a mustache smacks me in the face with his dick a few times as he tugs on my hair.

"Come on. Your other holes are too used for my tastes, but I've got an itch you're going to scratch, one way or another."