It wasn’t all that late in the evening when I was taken from John’s place by van to Dan’s seemingly remote camp. I’m guessing it was only about 10 PM when I was placed in the sludge pit. He instructed the guards that took me to make sure I was here until dawn and make the experience effective. Dawn was over 8 hours away.
The sludge was slimy, gritty, dirty and smelly. It had splashed onto my arms and face from the water bucket toss and had dried cake like on me. Any time I moved the upper arms or my head I could feel the tug between the dried sludge and my skin. Below the sludge line my entire body and every orifice felt like the slimy concoction had made its way in. If I wriggled, and I did that a lot, it just made it worse. I couldn’t help but move. My jaw line was resting on the top of the sludge.
Every now and again I slightly lifted myself up a few inches which created a small wave of motion so when I dropped back down again there was a ripple effect that would almost cascade towards me and possibly into my mouth if I wasn’t careful. I hesitated to attempt any sleep as I thought nodding off would have my head tilt forward and the sludge would make its way into the mouth. Keeping me so low to the sludge surface made sure I was going to have to stay awake, spend physical energy and endure this setup.
After a while the guard wearing the tank top returned. I noted that each of them was well built and must work out. They all had buzz cuts, nice high and tights like military men and there was little to no conversation between them. Nods and looks from one to another was all that was needed for communication. As I hung there in the pit I thought these guys have clearly done this before, possibly rehearsed or talked about what steps to take so that verbal conversation in front of me wouldn’t be necessary. It was somewhat sinister since they only gave me looks and that one verbal instruction earlier.
Tank top guard tapped shirtless guard on the shoulder when he walked up. Shirtless guard stood up, nodded and walked off into the distance. It must be the guard changeover. He looked over at me and gave me the same smirk he did when he tossed the bucket of water my way. He walked to the edge of the pit area and squatted down so he was almost eye level with me. He just looked at me eye to eye for at least a couple of minutes. Again, there was no verbal communication. He just stared me down.
When he stood up he walked out of my sight. I heard something rustle from the leaves that were on the ground. As he returned into view he was holding what looked like a swimming pool cleaning pole. It was long enough to reach over and even past me from where he stopped at the pit’s edge. On the pole’s end was what looked like a large coffee can that was attached. Again he gave me that evil smirk. He took the pole and moved it out over the pit and let the can rest just on top of the sludge next to my face. He let it rest there for a full minute or more again staring me down. He pulled the can back slightly and let it dip into the sludge and fill directly in front of my face. He stopped. I’m sure this was for effect. He was definitely mind fucking me. He tilted his head slightly non verbally communicating what he was going to do. Then he did it. He slowly pulled the can out of the sludge stopping just next to my face. Continuing the slow and deliberate movements he positioned the can directly over my head and held it there. I pleaded with my eyes looking into his eyes but all I saw was resolve, determination and cockiness from the guard.
Then it happened. He turned the pole ever so slowly and the can with it. Over my head, into my hair and throughout my facial skin the sludge slowly poured and ran down covering my head completely. I had closed my eyes just in time. I felt every pore on my face and under my hair react to the sloppy, gritty and slimy substance. I had no choice but to keep my eyes closed. It was disgusting. It ran and dripped ever so slowly over me.
A few moments later I felt a cloth being pushed into my eyes. It was being moved back and forth across one lid and then the other taking away the sludge. I decided to take a chance and open my eyes. The guard had another pole with a cloth on it. He brought it back to him and poured water over the cloth and wrung it out. He poured water over it again and then pushed it back to my face. I closed my eyes and he once again moved the cloth over the lids. He was making sure I could open and keep open the eyes without any sludge getting in to them. The warm and humid night air was making a quick task of drying the sludge all over my head so the dripping was easing up.
The guard pulled the pole back, smirked at me and took a seat in the chair that was nearby. He stared me down smiling and content as if I was his entertainment for the time he was going to be sitting there. Apparently I was. I went through the same routine I had settled in to earlier. Every now and again I would lift myself up a few inches and then settle back down again. The sludge would ripple. I would make sure not to get any in my mouth. Cycles of this behavior continued throughout the night. The guard continued his silent vigil. He would get up and stretch every now and again and then sit back down.
The next change in guard was uneventful and the third one didn’t care about the show I was providing. Like the first he had his phone out and was consumed with whatever he was staring at. I was thankful for that.
The sun had finally started peeking over the horizon. Dawn was near.
As the sun came fully up tank top guard that apparently liked tormenting me the most and Daniel walked up. The two of them and the last guard on duty had a conversation speaking in hushed tones. When they were done Daniel walked to the edge of the pit, squatted down and looked across at me. His eyes were cold and his face expressionless.
He stood up and grabbed the pole with the can on the end. Daniel swung it over the pit, filled it with sludge and poured it over my head. He did this four times in rapid succession. I turned my head quickly back and forth trying to spin the sludge off my head with some success. When I had calmed a bit I stopped moving around but kept my eyes closed. Moments later I felt a stream of water hitting my face. Someone was using a hose to clean off my head and face. It was cold. It was hard. It was a complete surprise. And as welcomed as it was it was also another form of torment.
When it stopped and I opened my eyes Daniel was standing on the pit’s edge with all three of the guards.
“After you pull him out finish cleaning him up and then put him in the box,” Daniel directed.
Daniel walked away and the three guards used the pulleys to lift me from the sludge swinging the arm over and away from the pit with me hanging from it. Tank top guard then went and retrieved the hose end and pointed it squarely at me. The cold water was oppressive as it did its work to clean the sludge off of me. I spun around in the air as he used the hose to make sure every inch of me was watered down. He walked over to me pulled the waist band back from the pants and then hosed the inside down. He made sure to go all around me and he even pulled my ass cheeks apart to get in that space. He took his time and was deliberate in his work. I was as clean as to be expected when he was done and slightly shivering even in the warm air. The camp pants clung to me being wet and soaked.
When the task was done I was lowered to my knees. The rope around my knees was removed as was the rope that had tied my wrists. The wrists were pulled quickly behind my back and shackles were applied. A heavy steel collar was locked around my neck and a short chain was used to connect the back of the collar to the wrist shackles pulling them up just above the waist line. I was still wearing the ankle shackles.
They dragged me across the compound to a wooden box about three feet cube. The lid was opened and together they lifted me up and into the box pushing me down. Looking in and apparently satisfied of their work they closed the lid and plunged me into darkness. I was slightly drooling from the piece of wood still in my mouth gagging me. I was so tired. I leaned over to the side of the box and fell asleep.
When I woke up there was a layer of sweat all over me. The lid was open and tank top guard was looking down at me from outside the box.
“You need water and some food,” he said to me. “Sit up,” was the command and I sat up as much as I could in the box. He removed the gag and put an open bottle of water to my lips.
“Drink slowly,” he said. After drinking half the bottle he pulled it away. He had a small container and pulled strips of chicken from it and began to feed me alternating with water. When the chicken was done and the water finished he closed the box lid leaving me alone and again I dozed off.
It had to have been early afternoon the next time the lid opened. All three guards and Daniel were present this time. I was lifted out of the box and placed on my knees.
Daniel looked down at me and then to his boots. I immediately bent over and used my tongue on his boots. There were chuckles from all of them. Daniel knew I wanted to please him and show him I was worthy of his time and effort. This simple act cemented our understanding of what this experience was about and that I was committed.
“I think our prisoner needs some exercise. We don’t want him to be lazy now, do we?” Daniel sarcastically asked.
I was pulled to my feet and dragged over to a horse walker. The apparatus was true to its name with four arms overhead coming out from the central turning point. They stopped me under one of the arms and took a length of chain and connected it to the arm and the collar around my neck. They all stepped away except for Dan who went to the center of the machine and flipped a switch. The arm started to move taking me with it. I had no choice but to walk hobbled as I was with the ankle shackles. The speed was slow but deliberate.
“You three go on. I’ll stay here and give some encouragement to our prisoner,” Daniel said. The others left. Daniel pulled up a chair from nearby along the outer perimeter of the space.
The ground I was walking on was soft dirt. Being barefoot it was a nice feeling.
Going around in circles for who knows how long I was able to take a look around the compound that was Dan’s place. Off in the distance I could see part of a stand of trees and where the sludge pit was located. Next to the pit were four wooden posts with cross beams joining them together aligned in a row. They were about 10 feet tall to the cross beams. The stand of trees bordered two sides of the compound. A large barn was on a third side and what must have been the main house on the fourth side. Within the compound was the wooden box I was in earlier. I also saw a pair of what were some sort of cages made from wood and other material I couldn’t quite make out. They were on stilts to keep them about two feet off the ground. There were a couple of wooden St. Andrew crosses side by side. I noticed some other wooden T crosses, low to the ground and sunk in maybe only about four feet in height with the cross beams at about the three foot mark. I think I saw what was a squared off area filled with almost like playground sand. There were a few other things that caught my eye like what looked like a wood pallet just sitting on the ground. Even with time I couldn’t exactly make out everything I was seeing.
My arms still slightly yanked up behind me were causing pain in my shoulders. It was extremely uncomfortable. The machine did its work and kept me moving and walking in a circle while Dan looked on. As it got later I started to stumble here and there from pure exhaustion. Dan noticed.
“Need some encouragement, do you boy?” he asked. After simply watching me for the last couple of hours go around and around he was now going to be an active participant. He walked over to the where I was walking with riding crop in hand and gave a couple of whacks to my thighs. Even through the camo pants it hurt. It hurt a lot. He was applying a lot of force to the swats. I stumbled again as the pain caught my attention and I lost concentration on the walking.
“Keep moving, boy,” he said to me. He stayed with me for a while properly applying encouragement. He decided at some point that the crop wasn’t good enough any longer and stepped aside and returned with a flogger. He used the flogger on my shoulders expertly hitting between my arms.
The exhaustion took over though and stumbling became more frequent. So did his swats. But my body didn’t care. It was getting to a point where the machine was more dragging me along than I was walking with its pace. Daniel seemed to notice and turned off the machine. I almost fell in place except the collar was still chained above me to the rotating arm. When Daniel released the chain I did fall onto my knees. Daniel also released the chain from the collar to the wrist shackles and I was able to lower them down behind me. The blood flowing back into my arms and shoulders had me scream in pain. I doubled over with my head on the ground allowing my body to adjust to everything that was happening.
There were boots in front of my face when I came to my senses. I pulled my body up to a full kneeling position. They were Daniel’s boots.
He went around behind me and released the one wrist shackle so he could swing my hands in front and cuff them together again. He pulled me up onto my feet and walked me into the barn that was on one side of the compound. The ankle shackles still hobbled me a great deal being only a couple of links of chain between them but I managed somehow to keep up with Daniel as he pulled me along.
Inside the barn I couldn’t see much since my eyes didn’t adjust quickly enough coming out of the sun. Daniel directed me to the left and a horse stable. The floor was concrete with a layer of hay on it.
“Get in,” Daniel commanded. I walked in.
“On knees,” was the next command and I complied. There was a very heavy chain connected to a corner of the stable and Daniel retrieved the end and used a padlock to lock it to the steel collar around my neck. He then used his boot to push me over onto my side and he walked out closing and locking the stable gate.
I wasn’t escaping if I wanted to. I curled up in a fetal position and the exhaustion took over. I slept.
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Metal would like to thank socalbd for this story!
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