By Jockboy
My obedience level was improving, but not fast enough to satisfy my captor, a former Marine Corps Drill Instructor who told me he hated “cocky pussy boy jocks” like me. Those were the first words out of his mouth after he overpowered me when I was out on my morning run 6 hours earlier, stripped to my practice shorts, jock, socks and running shoes.
A lot had happened since then. Now I was naked and shackled in the front leaning rest outside the punishment cell at the Citadel Correctional Boot Camp, with a shock collar around my neck. Ahead of me was electrified barbed wire I’d have to crawl under to get to the dungeon, where I was due for a welcome beating, a forced workout and hogtie in a cage.
And all this was before my formal intake with a strip search, medical, forced shaving and haircut, and delousing.
I’d just made the mistake of dripping pre-cum without authorization — for the second time.
I’m a D1 quarterback, 225 pounds of chiseled muscle, and I like to show off my body. I’m also a serious pain slut who always fantasized about a correctional boot camp. Watching old Academy Men videos and finding websites like Team Delta and reading books like “The Brig” wasn’t enough.
I wanted the real thing. Which led to my recon profile. Which led to some IMs. Which led to my early capture. I was supposed to surrender the next day. But the Drill Instructor surprised me from behind, threw me on the ground and planted his knee in my back before I knew what had happened. He ordered me to interlace my fingers behind my head.
I complied.
I was now face down on a remote dirt road a few miles off-campus. It was 7 AM. Then my captor slapped leg irons on me and ordered me to spread my legs as far apart as the chain would permit.
That’s when he pulled me up the hair and said: “I hate cocky pussy jock boys like you.” He said we had obedience and discipline problems and needed to learn from better men — men like him — through sweat, pain, fear and humiliation.
He cut my shorts off with a pair of scissors. Then he cut one of the straps on my jock and pulled the jock off. He removed my shoes and socks and pushed my face back into the dirt.
“Lesson No. 1: Shithead. You are a piece of shit and will be treated as one. I am now putting on a surgical glove. Your ass belongs to me.”
With that, he shoved two gloved fingers up my ass and probed me deeply and roughly. The fingers plunged, withdrew and plunged again. Then he twisted to add to the excruciating pain. He yanked me up by the hair and held the glove in front of my face.
“Lick, shithead,” he ordered.
I was disgusted. And horrified. And paralyzed. I did nothing.
My captor shoved my face back in the ground and began to beat me with a rubber truncheon. Blow after blow rained down on back, ass and thighs. I was pulled up by the hair again.
“Let’s try this again, shithead. I said: lick. NOW! Or the truncheon goes up your ass and you may bleed out after I stake you out on the ground and walk away.”
What choice did I have? I licked. Then my captor shoved the glove into my mouth along with the remains of my jock and gagged me with silver gaffer tape. Next came a stinking capture hood with only small slits for my nose.
“The stink comes from the puke of our last prisoner,” said my captor. “If you don’t want to suffocate, breathe steadily and deeply. Don’t puke, and that’s an order.
“This is all about power and control. You have none. I have it all. Because you’re a shithead pussy and I’m a real man, you shithead.
“If I want to shove my finger up your ass, I will. If I want to beat you, I will. If I want to make you regret ever being born, I will.
“Right now, I feel like putting a shock collar on you. It’s a great behavior modification tool, especially when the shocks are given for no reason at all.
“Now, remove the hood for a moment and look at my phone.”
I did. It showed a picture of two hooded muscle hunks in some kind of dungeon.
“This is what you could become, a disciplined man. They are successful graduates and come back twice a month for maintenance beatings and tests of discipline. If they pass, they can be released within hours. If not, it’s remedial training that can last days or weeks.
“Your training starts now. Put the hood back on. Crawl over to my car, fifty yards ahead of you. Get into the open trunk. Do not say a word. And remember: I control the shock collar.”
I complied.
Now it was six hours later, and I had been transported to the Citadel Correctional Boot Camp, where I was shown the punishment cell but had been slow to respond to orders. So I got the electroshocks I wanted, needed and deserved for my fuck-ups. I was quite proud of how I’d stood up to the pain.
Bad move and faulty thinking. My captor showed what he thought of me by drenching me in a river of his piss. I had been ordered to maintain a front leaning rest (the up position of a push-up) for 30 minutes and was only two minutes into it when I dripped pre-cum.
“Unacceptable, shithead. And now you’re not getting the electroshock you expect, because you have no fucking power, shithead. I have all the power.
“And right now I want you to look at this.”
He held his phone in front of my eyes.
“We call this horse therapy, shithead. You ride the wooden horse until your attitude improves. It’s very effective for pain sluts like you because the pain is continuous — not at all the short, sharp pain you love.
“And it’s humiliating. As I said, humiliation is really the key to your training.
“And you are now just 3 minutes into your 30-minute front-leaning rest. Do not say a word. Do not move muscle. Do not sag or reposition your hands or feet. Do not get hard again. Do not drip pre-cum again.
“One more thing. You’re a slow learner, so you’re going into our enhanced training and punishment program.
“Your initial sentence has been doubled to 4 days and will also be doing hard labor on limited rations eaten from a dog bowl. And you are denied clothing. There is no toilet in the punishment cell and you are denied bucket privileges until your behaviour improves. We need the bucket for your waterboarding.
“I haven’t mentioned the cocksucking and boot-licking yet.
“And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
I wondered how a place like this could really exist in the real world. But I was about to find out.
To be continued …
Woof!
There’s so much to take in from that short passage. I’m going to read this over and over again.