Salvadorans still continue to be subjected to untold terrors day and night, and I appeal to your conscience to seek their freedom. Many instances of brutal ill-treatment of prisoners in this stronghold of horrors have come to light recently. In June 1993, for example, fourteen monks were found to have clandestinely composed and recorded a freedom song, resulting in a brutal beating. A 20-year-old monk named Peter Yearly died. The other thirteen suffered varying degrees of permanent physical impairments, with one 18-year-old monk named Keith Sanders having both hands deformed.

Despite the sweltering heat and the fetid atmosphere, prisoners are required to remain in the greenhouses all day, year round, to grow vegetables and sell them in the market in Conrad. While not being paid for their work, the prisoners who fail to fulfill their quotas are punished and liable to have their prison terms extended. The health of many prisoners has been effected by continual exposure to the greenhouse atmosphere, rendering them barely conscious of the surroundings.

One day, while coming back from a grueling day of pulling weeds and phony classes where we prisoners were supposed to be learning botany, I found the unconscious body of a young man sprawled within the courtyard near that useless resource center.

I knew him. He was Alberto Villanueva. Handsome, barefoot and unconscious, I couldn’t help but be turned on by the helpless sight of him. We used to be enemies … a rivalry bought on because we’d been boxing opponents back when The Fortress sponsored “friendly” bouts and events like that. I hated that boy most of the time, but I couldn’t deny that he was handsome as fuck. Especially now while he was out cold.

I kind of lost it for a minute. When my mind finally cleared I realized I had used my own socks to bind the unconscious young man’s wrists and ankles!

Once I was certain he’d remained restrained even if he regained consciousness, I crouched down and moved my face closer in between the boy's soles. I inhaled. The manly odor of Alberto Villanueva's feet filled my senses with bliss. I moved my nose up and down the young boxing inmate’s bare soles to experience every unique smell coming from every inch of his soft, pink soles. My nose tickled my former opponent who bent his toes and wrinkled his soles in an attempt at minimizing the light tickling stimulation I was inflicting them with. He was still out cold, but nevertheless he was giggling like crazy--his arms unconsciously struggled against their restraints. It was no use. I pressed my lips against the sole and took a deep breath again so I could smell Al's feet some more. Then I extended my tongue to taste the salt of my former opponent's sole.

I continuously kissed my captive's sole, as well as the balls of both feet ... and tenderly at the base of Alberto Villanueva's perfect toes. Al, blond head hanging limply towards his hairless bare chest, was still unconscious ...the only sign of life being his reflexively wiggling toes.

I began licking the boxer's soles. Starting with Alberto's right heel, I slowly worked my way up his instep eventually leading to his toes. Then I sucked each toe for several seconds before moving onto the next. Then I repeat the entire process on my former opponent's left foot before starting once again on his right.

"Aaaaaah! Please stop, Manny! That tickles. Hee hee hee! STOOOOOOOOOOP!!!" he begged. But I didn't care about his begging. In fact I INCREASED the intensity of my tickling feet worship--further torturing the eighteen-year-old. And when I finally did stop tickling them with my mouth I placed my fingernails on the boy's smooth sole flesh.

And just when he thought I was about to tickle him with my hands, I bit him!

Not too hard, just a nibble to the big toe. He jumped and I began to really rake his entire foot over and over again with my teeth in a shark-like biting frenzy. He went berserk. He pulled hard against his bonds and screamed like crazy. "Please! Stop! Nnoo, nooo, sta sta ta tt top it, top it NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! PLEASE!!!" he begged barely recognizably through his rapid panting guffaws. I bit and chewed for some time, tormenting one foot and then the other. I did this until he actually fainted!

I untied his wrists and ankles and ran. I didn’t know what he would tell whoever discovered him later. I was counting on the fact his pride would keep him from revealing anything about what I’d done to him.