Skinheads and Legionnaires

By CREUSS

Part 1

stories by CREUSSI have been serving the Foreign Legion for 7 years, aged 17 to 24. After a couple of years of Service I was a Brigadier Chef, the equivalent of a Corporal. With a couple of mates, Legionnaire or Lance corporal or Corporal, we used to have a night leave at times, and we were enjoying spending our free evening in a Café by the old Roman Theatre. Place was quiet and the owner was rather friendly, as were customers.

When there, we used to have a quiet table at the rear of the café, rather cut from the rest of the crowd. When we were 3 or 4 we used to have at least one row each paying for some beer, so we could have four beers each in one evening, often double of this amount!

You know that legionnaires are not allowed to wear casual clothes at any time when in their first contract. So every time we were having a leave we had to leave the barracks in “tenue de sortie,” our equivalent of number 2 dress. We were not allowed to be outside of the barracks on a leave in combats, too.

One night I was with two of my mates, Legionnaire Mike T., an Englishman, and Brigadier Gary S., a Scot. They were a little it older than me, not much, but still. I was 19 and half myself, just back from the NCO school and to become a Marechal des Logis soon, the cavalry equivalent of a Sergeant!

Actually we were greeting my passing the examination, waiting to be promoted in a month or so.

We were enjoying ourselves quietly as we knew if getting a nuisance, owner would call the MPs and we may end in the regimental prison for a while. Sometimes MPs would turn in at random in order to check if everything was going fine.

That very evening, there were also three skinheads in the café, drinking much beer in their corner. They were not familiar with the place but sounded as if they were learning fast.

We were instructed to avoid mixing up with the locals, but not to be offending if they would try to make contacts at times.

After one hour or so drinking on our own at the back of the café the three skinheads came to us and offered for a beer. They were good looking, tall and slim, but not skinny, head perfectly shaved, and geared as you can expect from a skinhead with 30 holes shining rangers, with white laces, tight bleachers, suspenders at the side, etc. some tats on arms of most arms too. One seemed to lead the two others, but they looked like a brotherhood anyway.

At first we just refused and thanked politely, but they did insist. So we eventually accepted, and we had a first 6 beers served. Then I paid for a new 6 beers.

They were also quite talkative, and they did put us on the life inside the Legion, discipline, serving, etc. the leader said he would like to join one day and serve the Legion. We could only great him for such a good idea. The two others stood quieter on the subject and would probably prefer the Armée de Terre instead, and they all teased each other.

After several beers, the talks went on training, discipline, and odd punishment. My mates explained among those one was very popular as it was easy and fast to set up. It was hogtie.

Skinheads seemed to be quite interesting in knowing more on this and us legionnaires wanted to say how efficient and fun it could be.

As we all had about 8 or 9 beers each (we were actually ordering for the third time each!), we had made all barrier fall. One of the skinheads, the leading one, said he wanted to experiment how legion hogtie was, and ordered us to experiment on him. One of his mates went to their car and came back with a bag with ropes inside. On our side, we were discussing who would do it, and others said I was the most able to do it as I had the higher rank. Followed a discussion on ranks and ranks we all had. I had to admit I was to be promoted soon, not knowing when, but soon!.

The other problem was we could not do it right in the café room as there were still some customers, but one of the skinheads said there was a room they could use at the rear of the café. So, off we went.

The skinhead went prone on the ground, and I did start to tie his hands in his back, then his legs. There were simple ties, just wrists and ankles. Then with a third short rope, I did connect hands to feet, bending the legs on his arse. Fingers could touch his rangers. I made it simple and easy.

When done, the skinhead said it was rather basic and almost dull. My mates said it could be tighter and harder but it was the basic position. The skinhead said the position was easy and only duration could make it turn nastier, but could take at least a couple of hours, and sometimes never could happen to some taught guys! He was right.

We had some more beers by the meantime, of course. The hogtied skinhead said he wanted it more ultimate, and I said I could do it but his skin-gear were not that accurate for doing it that much. He said he had some combats too in his car and told one of his mates to get to collect them. When back he was released and started to get changed. His gear was really good and very regular issue, and it seemed he knew how to wear it. Watching me he said I may be more comfortable in combats too, as the Tenue de Sortie was not accurate to run a hogtie. I had to admit I was not able to get changed, so he objected I would wear his as we were roughly the same size, even for boots after checking.

Part 2

I get undressed and started to get into his combats. He was half dress himself by now. When putting the trousers he said it was more fun with no underpants. I could not do it as it was not my combats, but he forced me to take it off.

We both end in combats, worn properly but the headgear, and lacking ranks and names tags. I had a quick look at the guy and must admit he looked really good in combats. I’ve never been attracted by men, but know and can tell when one looks accurate in the gear he wears.

When we were ending to be dressed he asked what could happen when hogtied. My mates and I said we could be left in this position for a while, just left on our own to wait till the Officer or the MPs come to let us free.

They could also take the opportunity of having us hogtie to kick us or beat us. When outdoors they could also force us to crawl, etc. Many opportunities would be available, as MPs imagination was endless.

Crawling sounded to make it interesting to the skinhead. And a whisper of pleasure and agreement seemed to pass his lips.

Now he told me to make a real hogtie on him, not a mild version this time. I forced him prone to the ground and I started to tie his wrists again, tighter from the previous time. He smiled when noticing it was done properly then.

Then I tied his ankles tighter than his wrists, and he did appreciate the feeling.

Then I put the rope three times around his neck and made a knot. Not too tight to strangle him but tight enough to feel it at the neck and if blowing the neck muscles, to feel it too tight then.

I took the rope then and anchored the ankles, heels deep unto the arse cheeks to his neck, forcing him to raise his head to be able to breath not chocking!

When I finished it, I looked at him and asked if he was ok.

He went positive. He asked me a favour then, and asked if he could have me hogtied as he was, handled by his two mates.

I had a quick thought, and did admit it was the less I could do to oblige.

So the two other skinheads hogtied me exactly in the same position I’ve just put their fellow comrade. It was tight, strict but perfectly bearable.

I was facing him, at eyelevel and could see him enjoying the position. It was not so easy to speak in this position, but the skinhead asked if there were some more options that could be done to make it rougher. Sure, I said. They can tape your eyes, hood you, tie your balls, and many other tiny things to turn it like Hell.

When he asked if I had them all I had to admit I’ve done it even harder, and was even suspending when hogtied.  I also added to go through a similar treatment would nor fear me. He smiled to this and said we may challenge each other like this. He called his mate and told them this fucker was accepting to be challenged, as he would be at the same time. He watched me and asked “no mercy, no early release?” and I watched him deep into his eyes and answered no mercy, no early released”.

Last thing I have been able to see was the skinhead having several tours of adhesive tape over his eyes and his head, blindfolding him totally. When done, they did the same to me.

Part 3

They let us there for a while and I could hear the two skinheads talking to my fellow legionnaires asking some details or suggestions. I was unable to hear properly what they were saying, I moved slowly toward the skinhead, and talked to him quietly, telling him he would not have the guts to have it ultimate. He wondered what ultimate would be then, and I said that after some “entertainments” to be buried to the neck still hogtie, vertical and let there for 8 days, used as a latrine by the squad.

His answer was a whistle of approval, then said it would be a nice experience, asking if I had it before. He also wanted to know if they would bury two men in two different pits or in the same one. I told him could be either, and yes I did get buried for 8 days. He called me bad names for a soldier, and disobedient bastard, fucking bad legionnaire. I explained briefly it was easy to be punished in the Legion, and you were not a criminal for this! He agreed with it, and said I would not be a Sergeant soon so young if I was such a bad legionnaire. I thanked him for his words.

Then he suggested me to go for a 8 days challenge in being buried and after all I drank, I was not totally aware of all side effects, but I said I was accepting the challenge if we were buried together. He said we could even get a 10 days challenge with the 2 last days with some addition of his own. I said I would go for this too! I then said for the duration we should be ring-gagged to keep our mouth open then. He accepted, and said if would be harder if we were given water every two days, and food only on day 4 and 8. I said I was accepting if we were buried tied up together, still hogtied of course!

So went the deal.

The skinhead called his mates and told them what had been agreed. Then I told to my fellow legionnaires to get a leave for me for the 10 days to come, or I would be in troubles when back. The Skinhead told me it would not be a problem and he would manage to sort it out if it was going wrong.

We did part form the two legionnaires, as they had to get on time to the barracks.

The skinheads went away with them for a while and get to us about 15 minutes later.

So, they ring-gagged us as agreed. Now it was getting more complicated to talk, of course. Then they did earplug us, and hooded us with a cloth bag. Now we were in transportation conditions.

They raised us on our knees, and punched torso, more or less where the rank patch was situated, almost in the solar plexus, then above the tits, by the zip pockets and the name patch.

Back on our stomach, they roped our neck and tear it as a lead, in order to guide us toward the vehicle. As they walked normally it was really hard to follow, and I was more strangled than crawling.

When at their vehicle, they loaded us more or less like sacks of potatoes. And then they drove off.

Journey took around 30 minutes only till they reached the place they had in mind.

During the journey the hogtied skinhead tried to talk and told me they wanted to tie us together with barbed wire, to make the trick more intense. This would be nasty. But I was too drunk to take enough steps back to say anything. And so were they, probably!

They took us off the jeep, and put us vertically, just leaning on a side of the vehicle.

When they took me off the vehicle a couple of metres away from it, I noticed they had been wearing thick leather gloves.

They handled me further and took me down the pit. There, they made me face and touch the skinhead body. One jumped down the pit to put us in a safe position, I only mean to be sure we would keep the balance till they end filling the pit.

They filed the pit for a while as they only had two shovels to do it. They stopped by the shoulders. It was a rest along the ordeal, even if I would have believed they would have gone to the neck in one go!

I caught the reason later when they insert a bayonet between my chin and the ground, but also at the back of my head.

When all this was fixed, the two skinheads spread some concrete, covering the soil from our shoulders to the lower lip. This was intense! I did suspect it was fast concrete, of course.

Those men were not kidding, and we really were to stay here for a while, probably the 8 days that were told before. OK… Well done!

Then all went silent. Not they had gone, but they stopped looking after us. They just tidy the spot I suspect, and fell asleep back to a tree. I haven’t heard the jeep go.

I probably fell asleep myself. I needed to, and I had too much to drink.

Part 4

This is the morning that woke me up. Even if blindfolded, I could not see the light. Naturally I tried to move my head and noticed I was unable to do it. Concrete was blocking me, keeping me quiet.

Then I remembered the previous night, and how I did get into this position. I also remembered I was here for at least 8 days, may be up to 10. But I had no idea of where I was. In the army, when buried like this, you always end as a human latrine, but here, it could get boring after a while if only two donators. And we were two to get it!

I had no real time to think about it the two skinhead voices were announcing breakfast. I wondered what they had in mind, even if I would not be too surprised of what might happen.

And it happened.

Each skinhead unbuttoned his flier, and did start to piss aiming our forced open mouth. Piss was warm, strong and tasty. When done, they forced their boots on our face and pushed the spikes into the flesh. It was intense. The skinhead had some loud breathing, but he was told he had what he asked for so he had to behave now.

Minutes later I heard the jeep go, and we stayed here blocked in the soil.

The skinhead remained silent and so did I! After a couple of hours, he tried to ask me a question, but our position was not making it easy to talk. He wanted to know if this was rather genuine or if it was too strong or mild. I said is was obviously the level it should be, even if I had not been sealed in concrete before, but it was really matching with what would happen. So they did it right.

He wondered then how I was able to cope. I had to admit it was rough but fun! Only detail was there were not so many soldiers around to use the latrines!

I heard him smiling, if we can say a smile can be heard!

The day did last very slowly, and we had no visit at all, so it went slightly boring. By the middle of the afternoon, the two skinheads came back and gave us water and some food. Not sure food is the actual word, but at least it was feeding and easy to swallow.

They did not say a word and went immediately after they did end to feed us, not forgetting to use us as toilets, as you can imagine.

Day had been hot and water was really appreciated. So they did change their mind on low feeding and watering us every 2 days.

Later in the evening, a group of men get by us. From my hearing experience it was a group of legionnaires, actually a squad. It sounded as if they were to have a stay overnight by us, and found it useful to use us as the latrines. Within a couple of hours, they most came to use the provided toilets. They never addressed to us, but they were quite pleased to find a decent latrine after the concrete around our neck. All night long they carry on using the latrines.

Later during the day, the two skinheads came back, and fed us. Once more not a word was said, and they both pissed on us before they left.

Everyday, the same things happened… At any times during the day, the two skinheads would come, feed us, piss and go. Later at night a squad would stop overnight, and used us as a latrine.

On the 8th day, after being fed, the two skinheads started to operate on our mouth. They forced a plastic pipe inside our mouth, with a shape of a T upside down, so each end of the horizontal part of the T was forced in mouths. I could feel the breath, stinky breath, of the skinhead. I was sure he could feel mine too!

The vertical part of the T was letting us breathe anyway, and this was positive.

Then the two skinheads covered our merging face with soil, and we disappeared from the surface of the Earth. All went silent and just my breathing and the skinhead’s breathing were perceptible.

After the regulation of his breathing I could guess when he was stressed or not.

Part 5

I am not sure how long it took before they came back to us to let us free.

First they removed the soil from our head, and let us get back to the fresh air. They dismantled most of what was around us above the concrete block. Then they broke the concrete itself, and managed to take all bits and pieces away.

Then they started to empty the pit and get rid of the soil, till they managed to extract us from the large pit. They removed the ring-gag, and dismantled the hogtie. It was a strange feeling to get back to use arms and legs. Actually standing up was almost impossible at the beginning. I felt my trousers were filled with my own dejections, as I haven’t been able to get another option for 10 days now. I was sitting on the ground, trying to recover from my ordeal. I felt quite proud of myself anyway, and had shown no weakness to a skinhead!

I felt exhausted anyway.

I was still eyes taped shut as they had said they would clean our face before taking it off as they wanted to protect our eyes.

The skinhead made a voice contact anyway and wondered how I felt. He said it was a real good experience for him and loved it all. He said he was proud to have been able to take it like a man, and I did it too. He said he was admiring me for taking it so easy, and for having accepted to take the challenge with a perfect stranger.

The two other skinheads get back to us, and started to clean their mate’s face, then feed him and removing the blindfold tape.

Then they did the same to me and I was happy it was night as it was really hard to get back to the sight after 10 days in total darkness. Sounds were extremely loud too, and it seemed all bugs and night animals where using mega-phone! I was able to discover the surrounding then, and it came to my mind we might have been in the heart of a military field. It was rather obvious after the amount of squad we met at night.

I was sitting on the soil and I was feeling exhausted, almost unconscious, but was starting to get aware of many details around me.

First thing I saw was a jeep. It was definitely a regimental jeep from my own regiment. Then I saw the two skinheads who looked after us all week long. They were not in skin-gear any longer, but in combats, worn the most genuinely you can imagine, and they were name tagged and rank Lance Corporal and Corporal (correct ranks in French would be Brigadier and Brigadier-Chef – same rank as me). They had a grin on their face and were watching me wondering if I understood it all. Actually I was not! Not yet! They were holding handcuffs and leg-irons in hands, being quite ready to use them. They also had a MP armband, with the P for Police and M for Militaire, on a green and red background as requested for the Legion.

I faced the skinhead who shared my ordeal over those 10 days, and with my eyes was asking him what all this was about. I only noticed then he was in full combats, too, name-tagged, and ranked as a Lieutenant. Oh dear! What did it mean? He also had a MP armband and was grinning at me. He looked as exhausted as me, but seemed to have enjoyed himself too, with this session. I put my hands on my torso and noticed my smock was name-tagged and ranked too. Bowing my head, I saw the silver // who meant Maréchal de Logis, the cavalry equivalent of a Sergeant. I also saw my name on the tag, and then noticed I was wearing a MP armband too.

Lieutenant lifted his chin as if it was a question now, asking with no words if this was fitting me.

I watched him and asked why he went through such a pantomime to end with this interrogation. Answer was he wanted to gauge me first. Now he indicated me a soldier, who was in cuffs and leg-irons a little bit further, hooded too. He said he wanted me to beat him up, having in mind he was the Corporal I was drinking with in the café where we met, and the same treatment will be inflicted to me after doing it to this kunt. I asked what he did wrong to deserve this punishment and was told he behaved perfectly, just been with me that evening we met.

I asked if I was allowed some improvements to make it nasty to him, and wondered if I could have two ropes, a ring-gag and a bootlace. They gave me those, and I started to ring-gag the prisoner through the hood. Then I tightened a rope to his neck, really tight, and noosed him to a beam above him, forcing him on his toes. Then I pulled his balls off his combats and tied them very tight with the bootlace. Position was now efficient to be really stressful. I went to one of the two MP (I can’t call them skinheads any longer) and took his truncheon at his belt. Then, back to the prisoner I started to hit him heavily from skull to ankles, with strength on his head, balls, torso and tights. It seemed the guy was in agony as he was able to cry and shout through his gag.

His hood was getting wet from his sweat, soon, too. When it seemed he was about to faint I stopped and waited for instructions. An encouragement with the chin from the Lieutenant made me inflict two more hits, one in balls full force then one on the head, and I saw the body collapse, just supported by the neck now. The two MPs came in a rush to take him down to the ground when the Lieutenant was next to me now. He told me it was my turn now but I would not wake up inside the barracks just after this but will be locked in a container to be shipped to Guyana when he was in charge of the Compagnie Disciplinaire, the legion BRIG. I was to be promoted a Sergeant there and would be serving for 3 years in the Jungle. I had earned my two stripes that week and he was really confident for the mission I’ll have to serve.

I let them hood me, cuff me, noose me tie my balls, just saying “tighter, please”…

15 minutes later I was passing out. One week later I was waking up in the heart of the Jungle. And loved my stay there.

THE END

Metal would like to thank CREUSS for this story!

You can contact him via Recon.

 

men in chans

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