I could still see the way the slave's eyes had rolled back into his head as he screamed, when the branding rod was pressed into the back of his left shoulder. The sizzle and smell of burning flesh had made me want to throw up. It wasn't over though.
The two guards shoved the whimpering slave back against the wall and spread his legs, as the man with the knife set the brand poker back down into the fire. He then turned toward the slave knife in hand and ripped the slave's pants down and proceeded to slice off his seed sac, throwing it to the side, as he then held the hot knife to the wound cauterizing the flesh.
The slave almost jerked out of the grasp of the two big men as the realization of what had just been done to him hit him along with the pain. I had thrown up all over myself then and I had tried to somehow block out the man's hysterical cries of pain and loss, but failed to miserably.
One by one the process was repeated down the line until they had reached me. I had been crying my eyes out and sobs of fear and expected pain racked through my body, as the other slave's anguished screams still lingered around me in the room.
Nothing could have prepared me for the feeling of the hot poker being ground into the back of my shoulder. I had screamed and sobbed hoping against hope for freedom from this hellish place, but none came. I had felt my pants ripped down and I had bitten my lip, as I felt the grip on my sac as the edge of the hot knife pressed against it. A moment had passed in which I had sobbed hard from the expected burning pain and the loss of my identity as a man.
The knife had stayed where it was as the grip on my sack was released. I had opened my eyes that were blurry from the tears pouring out of them and looked around as I heard a strange sound. The guards and even the men holding me were laughing! As if this was all a big joke!
The man with the knife withdrew it and joined in on the laughter. I had heard the guards leave the room still laughing as I had pressed my eyes closed because of how I had been shamed by them.
That had been the worst night of my life, being forced to stand there naked and listen to the cries and whimpers of the others in such a dark dungeon of a place.