By Marknorth

It had been a rough flight.  The little 18-seat puddle jumper had bounced and jerked through the storm for the entire 2 hours it was in the air.  Landing at the little rural airport had been an adventure in itself; the wind was so strong that the plane seemed to slide sideways down the runway.  Now he was standing in the rain with 5 other guys waiting for their ride.

It was late, the terminal building was locked, and there wasn’t another soul in sight.  The group was quiet and mostly the guys just looked down at their feet.  Not entirely ignoring each other, just not knowing what to say.  They were all nervous as hell and jumped at every crack of thunder.

Finally, they saw headlights bouncing down the airport road.  They were anxious to get going and hoped this was their ride.  It was a panel truck.  The kind you rent from Budget when you move yourself.  This one, however, was painted a faded olive green.  In the faint lighting of the small parking lot it looked like pea soup.

The truck pulled up to the guys and stopped so the rear-gate was even with them.  The rear door suddenly opened and a hard-looking soldier in fatigues hopped to the ground.  He immediately started shouting at them to get the hell in the truck.  Each one of the guys silently thought that he looked just like the typical drill Sergeant from any of a dozen movies they had seen.

The yelling continued until each of them had climbed into the back of the truck and the door was pulled closed.  They all heard the locks engage and knew there was no way out.  The truck started up as soon as they heard the passenger door slam shut and it quickly pulled away.  Several of the guys fell to the floor as it lurched forward.  There was nothing to sit on; none of them had any luggage; and the wooden floor was slippery from their dripping clothes.  They all sat silently as the truck bumped along the rural roads.  Some of them were already regretting their decision.

Jim positioned himself so his back was against the side of the truck.  It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but at least he had a little support for his back.  He wondered how long they would be cooped up in the back of this truck; but then chuckled quietly to himself – being locked-up in this truck was the least of his worries.

It had been early May when he had first seen the ad.  It had been hanging on the cork board in the entryway of his favorite club.  He only noticed it because there was a line to get in and he was scanning the notices on the board as he waited.

It was a simple poster.  Picture of what looked like a prison camp from a war movie.  Guard towers, barbed wire, dilapidated barracks, the whole deal.  Sign up now for a chance to live your fantasy.  Military prisoner, no escape, real MP’s.  2 week, 4 week, and 6 week experiences available.  Application and more information online.  The website address stuck in his head for some reason.  And he kept thinking about it on and off for the better part of week before he finally went online to check it out.

The website was kinda slick.  Definitely moody.  Woodland camo background, barbed wire curling around the titles, with handcuffs and leg irons at the bottom of each page.  The pictures gave him an instant hard-on.  Guys in cages, forced labor, kneeling with hands linked behind their heads and looking scared – all watched over by hard-looking guys in BDU’s.  He flipped through the site and then pulled up the application.  He read the description of the “experiences” available and was surprised at the cost.

He printed it out and let it sit for a few days, but kept thinking about – to the point of distraction.  He had money saved up.  He was eligible for a sabbatical (his company was great that way; they wanted employees to take time for themselves.)  The more he thought about the more he wanted to do it.  Without a lot of further thought he completed the application, got a copy of his latest physical from his doctor, and emailed it to them after making a deposit for the application into their PayPal account.  20% now, 60% once approved, and the final 20% one week before the lock-up.  The application was long, very personal, and very in-depth.

He was very excited when he received the acceptance email and a little nervous when he made the second deposit.  The terms were very clear.  No refund.  You didn’t show up, no skin off their noses – you just donated a shitload of money to them.  What if it was a crock?  Did he just get scammed?  Subsequent emails and mailings eased his fears, if they were scamming him they were certainly playing it up.

He quickly realized that his fees did not cover travel expenses.  He would have to fly into a small rural airport that would require at least 2 layovers.  The flights were limited and the airfare wasn’t cheap; in for a penny, in for a pound….

Packing was simple.  Nothing was allowed but the clothes on your back and the necessary cash and ID to make the trip.  The travel “uniform” was to consist of army surplus clothing.  Nothing too specific, just surplus (and the more used the better.)

Jim was jarred back to the present as the truck turned onto what must be a gravel road.  It seemed like they had been driving for hours – he had no way to tell, watches were not allowed.  The driver didn’t slow much around the corners and the guys were sliding around in the back of the truck.  It wasn’t long after that the truck slammed to a stop and the locks were quickly removed and the door flew open.  The same Drill Sergeant was screaming at them to get out of the truck and all of them quickly complied.  It actually felt good to be able to stand-up again.

They were standing in a small clearing in thick woods, the road was mostly mud, and the only light was from a single dim bulb on a small shack.  The shack must have been some type of guard post as there was a gate across the road immediately adjacent to it – which was now closed.  Jim strained to see out into the night – looking for the rest of the camp – but he couldn’t see anything through the trees.

They heard the sound of an approaching vehicle slopping and slipping through the mud.  When it came into view Jim realized it was an old army truck with a canvas covering over the back.  As soon as it stopped 6 or 8 guards leapt out of the back and ran to where the prisoners were standing.  Before the guys really knew what was happening they had been cuffed and shackled with chain gang-style restraints – they were chained together about a foot apart.  The chain between the leg irons on each of the guys was a lot shorter than usual and walking was going to be tough.

While they were being cuffed the army truck had turned around in the clearing, its lights aiming down the muddy road in the direction that it had just come.  The shackled prisoners were directed to march down that road in front of the truck.  There would be no stopping for any reason.  They better get used to it now, because of any one of them failed to obey a direct order from any of the guards they would be punished.  In what seemed like seconds from when they had jumped off the back of the panel truck they – were marching through the mud at a shuffling pace, their path illuminated by the truck’s headlamps as it brought up the rear.

They were all exhausted.  The shuffling steps were painful and the mud had gotten thicker as the rain continued to fall.  Almost each one of them had slipped into the mud, bringing the entire chain gang down.  It was a struggle to get everyone back on their feet when that happened and the constant blaring of the truck’s horn only made it worse.  It was clear that none of the guards was going to slop through the mud with them, but the truck was always riding up on their asses to keep them moving.  Since Jim was the last man, he frequently felt the heat from the radiator when they failed to move fast enough.

It had to be several miles before Jim noticed light in the distance.  As they got nearer it was obvious that they were coming to the actual camp.  The floodlights from the guard towers were blinding after so long in the dim headlights.  As soon as they were within sight they were hit by several searchlights, making it harder to see.  The group fell several more times before they reached the first gate.  Covered in mud and hardly able to walk, they slowly made their way through each of the three gates before being ordered to stop in the open area before the barracks.

Jim glanced around.  A guard tower at each corner of the compound and one at the set of gates.  Three fences each at least 10 feet high – each one topped by coils of razor wire.  The “no-man’s land” between each fence also had coils of barbed wire for the entire length.  The gates themselves were just large enough for one truck to pass and were also draped with razor wire.  His heart sank as he realized that there was no way out of this place until he was released 4 weeks from now.  Why hadn’t he gone for the 2-week experience?  What if they were a bunch of sadistic crackpots and never let him out?

 

Part 2

 

Sadistic they were, Jim now had no doubt about that.  That first night was a blur.  Mud covered and exhausted, continually screamed at by the guards, each of the guys was unchained form the others and dragged away.  One by one they were taken, until only Jim was left.  He was glad to be unchained from the other guys, but the handcuffs and leg irons prevented him from much movement.  Not that he would have moved, anyway.  The constant screaming of the guards to remain where he was had frozen him in place long ago.

Finally they came for him.  Grabbing him under each arm, two guards dragged him towards the only concrete block building in the compound.  He couldn’t have shuffled his feet fast enough to keep up with them, anyway, but it was painful to be manhandled like this.  The door to the building was heavy, rusty metal with one small opening and multiple locks.  It was opened from within as they approached by a third guard and they pulled him into the dark hallway.  Jim quickly released that the building housed a series of prison cells.  He was unceremoniously dumped into one, landing on his face on the cold and wet concrete floor.  The heavy door to the cell was slammed shut and locked.  That harsh sound was quickly followed by the slamming of the outer door to the building.  He was now locked in a concrete cell in the middle of a prison camp in the middle of nowhere.  He cried himself to sleep.

He heard yelling and other noises and struggled to pry his eyes open.  Some of the mud had dried overnight.  He tried to reach up to rub his eyes but was quickly reminded that he still was cuffed and chained.  He rolled over on his side and eventually was able to scrape enough mud off of his face to be able to see.  The cell was small.  There were no furnishings at all.  Nothing, in fact, but concrete walls, a heavy metal door, a very small slit that let some dim light in from the outside and a small rusty drain cover in the middle of the concrete floor.  He struggled to pull himself into a sitting position and picked off more dried mud.  He was still damp and started to shiver.  He had no idea what time it was or how long he had been asleep.  He didn’t feel rested at all and he was now scared as hell.  If last night was just the beginning, what was yet to come?

Jim was standing at attention in front of the commander’s desk.  They had come for him about an hour ago, slamming the metal door to his open and hitting him with the high-pressure hose before he had a chance to react at all.  The cold water stung fiercely but he was glad that the mud was being washed down the drain.  When he was as clean as he was going to get they removed the restraints, and ordered him to strip out of his clothes.  His hesitation was met with a few quick slaps and another blast from the hose.  He realized that he had no real choice in the matter and quickly yanked off his ruined boots and all of his clothes.  The guards tossed an orange prisoner jumpsuit at him and told him to get it on.  They also started to teach him that every sentence was to be started and ended in “Yes, Sir!” and he was never to speak until spoken to.  Several slaps later he decided to obey those simple orders from then on.

Once had the jumpsuit on, they locked on a set of heavy manacles and shackles.  These were not the typical handcuffs and leg irons.  These were heavy steel, rusted from what looked like years of use.  The chains were long enough that he could walk and use his hands.

The commander was speaking to him, but he had zoned out and missed what he had just said.  When he opened his mouth to ask him to repeat it, he was quickly cracked across the head by one of the guards.  He had already forgotten not to speak unless spoken to.

“Prisoner, this is the one and only time that you will speak about this matter.  I remind you that you have sentenced yourself to this camp.  Unbelievably, you agreed fully and freely to the terms of this incarceration.  I assure you that there are no safe-words here.  There is no early release.  There is no help from the outside world.  I am sure that you will come to regret that you imprisoned yourself here.  From this point on you are a prisoner and nothing else.  You will obey all orders without hesitation or you will be punished.”

His smile was cold.  “You have been sentenced to hard labor.  You will have to work to earn your release.  If you fail to meet the requirements of this camp your sentence will be extended for a term of our choosing.  Now, get him out of here.”

The guards grabbed him and, even though he struggled, dragged him back out of the office and into the harsh sunlight of the yard.  There were already a dozen or so prisoners lined up at attention and he was added to the line.  Once they had all counted off the guards led them outside of the camp and to the worksite.

It must have been about a mile or so from the camp.  The prisoners were surrounded by guards and all of them were shackled in the same manner as Jim was.  It appeared to be a building site of some sort.  After a few days, Jim realized that they were building another camp.  The prisoners were able to whisper to one another when the guards were far enough away not to hear.  One of the guys who had been in the camp for quite a while told Jim that they had too many prisoners for the one camp to hold – so they had to build another.  There were 5 or 6 work details at the site every day and sometimes more prisoners were brought over.  There was no heavy equipment.  Everything was done by hand.  Who cared, since all of the labor was free?

Jim overheard others whispering about extended sentences and attempted escapes.  It seemed that prisoners were being held beyond their original sentences so there was enough labor to complete this camp.  Jim began to get more worried by the day.  How could they keep guys imprisoned here against their will?  Dumb ass, he thought, everyone had signed those rights away on the original application.

The first few weeks were the same routine.  Up at dawn, breakfast, march to the worksite, work until dusk with a break here and there, march back to the camp, dinner, and confinement.

Jim spent the first few nights in the same cell, but he was then moved to the barracks.  Each barracks had a dozen two-man rooms and a central latrine.  Each room was the same and you were locked in whichever one was next when you were marched back in.  A wooden set of bunks lined one wall; a thin mattress and a thin blanket were all that there was.  No window, just the locked door.  The rooms were hot and stuffy as there was no circulation whatsoever, but Jim fell asleep almost instantly as he was exhausted each night.

The food was tolerable.  Never enough time to eat, so everyone scarfed down as much as possible as quickly as possible.  Jim became adept at eating in chains.  The movement was limited so he had to develop a series of short motions to shovel the food in fast.

He noticed that he was starting to firm up, getting more solid as he was forced to work.  He was a decent looking guy and he was starting to look better has his body toned.  They had shaved his head that first day – just like all of the other prisoners – he wondered frequently how he looked bald.  There was no way to tell as there were no mirrors anywhere.

After a few weeks the routines began to change.  Alarms went off in the middle of the night and all of the prisoners were hurried into the central yard and counted off.  It seemed that someone had tried to escape.  He didn’t make it far before he was captured in the no-man’s land between the first set of fences.  He was paraded in front of the assembly that night, stripped, and lashed at least 20 times.  Jim watched in horror.  He had not expected that kind of punishment to be meted out.  Maybe some time in isolation, or harder labor, but not whipping.  He shrunk from the idea.

It was announced that all of the prisoners would pay for this one’s escape attempt.  The guards and commander believed that he must have had help getting over the fence.  He announced that anyone who was nearing the end of their sentence would have it extended by at least 2 weeks.  Everyone else would have their work-detail’s expected daily output increased.  Any further escape attempts would result in increased sentences for all prisoners without exception.  If the accomplice or accomplices would step forward of their own free will that night, the restrictions would be eased in a week.  If no one stepped forward the restrictions would remain in effect for as long as it took.  It was an obvious technique to get the prisoners to turn on each other and rat a guy out.  Jim assumed that someone would get pissed at another prisoner and turn him in just to ease the restrictions and prevent any further extensions to their sentences.

The prisoners were made to stand at attention for the remainder of the night.  All the work details were marched out at dawn without anything to eat.  Jim’s group was ordered to double the daily length of trench that they were digging for the fence foundations of the new camp. They had been hard pressed to meet the original requirements.

When they marched back into the camp that first night they were greeted by the sight of the attempted escapee locked in a small cage in the middle of the main yard.  He was still chained and the cage was barely big enough for him to move.  It was on a small, raised platform so it was easily visible.  The men were forced to stand at attention until dark just staring at the poor guy and the cage.

Jim’s detail failed to meet their requirement the next day and for the next three, as well.  He wondered why they were not singled out for punishment.  He kept hoping that they were doing well enough to get by or the commander had exaggerated a bit to scare everyone.

On that third night Jim was awakened by the sound of the door to his barrack room being unlocked.  Before he knew what was happening he was overwhelmed by several guards who wrapped duct tape around his head to keep him quiet.  They also grabbed the guy in the upper bunk and treated him the same.

Both of them were carried out of the barracks and Jim realized that his punishment for failing to meet the daily requirements was at hand.  Jim saw the guards take the other guy in the opposite direction from where he was being carried.  The lights in the compound were bright and Jim had to close his eyes to allow them to adjust.  Once they were half way across the yard and at the foot of the platform with the cage, the guards dropped him to the ground before dragging him to his feet.

“Is this one of them?” One of the guards asked the guy in the cage.

“Yes.  He’s one of ‘em.”  The prisoner’s voice was gravelly from being given only small rations of water while he had been locked in the cage.

“Good.  You said there were two more?  All from the same work detail?”

“Yeah.  The shortest one and the big guy with the scar on his neck.”
“OK.  We know who you mean, but we’ll bring them here for you to identify.  You know that this will only reduce the time you spend in that cage; your sentence has still been extended by the Commander.  That’s not gonna change.”

Yeah, I know.  But I’m not going to let those guys get off scott-free.  I held out longer than I should have already.”

Jim couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  He hadn’t helped the guy try to escape.  He hadn’t even seen the guy before he was caught and punished.  He grunted and squirmed and tried to get the guards to understand that he was innocent, but they just cuffed him a couple of times.  He gave up.  They wouldn’t listen to him anyway.  The guy had just screwed him and there was nothing he could do about it now.  He panicked as he thought about being flogged.  The guy had screamed with each lash and his back was bloodied and would be scarred from it.

The guards pulled Jim toward the gates and he was wondering what the hell they were going to do to him outside the camp.  Once they were in between the first and second gate, they unlocked the manacle on his left wrist and unlocked the chain connecting his wrists to his ankle shackles.  He was at a loss as to what they were doing, but it was quickly made apparent when they dragged him into the no-man’s land between the fences.  They were setting him up.  Making it look like he was trying to escape.  He began to struggle against them, but they just slap him around.  One of the guards hit him hard enough in the stomach to knock the wind out of him.  He would have fallen to the ground if they hadn’t been holding him up.  Once they were far enough, they dropped him on the barbed wire and entangled him in it.  He was cut by the barbs as they wrapped it around his arms and one leg, but they kept at it until he was to wound up in it to get free.  The duct tape was removed and for good measure the same guard gave him another good blow to the stomach.  Jim collapsed as far as he could into the wire.

The sirens started up and he was quickly in the full glare of the searchlights.  He waited for the guards to pull him off the wire, but the sirens just continued to wail.  He heard shouting and the sound of running.  Out of the corner of his eye he could see the guards standing not too far away from him.  It took him a moment to realize that the other prisoners were being brought out in the yard.  Once the commotion stopped, the sirens were silenced, and Jim heard the Commanders voice.

“As you all can see, we have another escape attempt.  The fool is caught in the wire.  He will be left there for the rest of the night.  You will all remain here at attention until he is freed.  We will be back in the morning to mete out his punishment.  The camp will be punished, as well.”  Jim began to struggle, trying to get free from the wire.  The more he struggled the more he cut himself.  He didn’t care, he just kept flailing.  The guards did nothing.  They just smirked at him.  Eventually he gave up; the futility of the situation sinking in.

As he lay there the truth began to sink in.  For whatever reason the Commander or the guards had set him up; probably the guy in the cage, too – although maybe not.  Maybe that escape attempt gave them an idea.  A way to extend sentences and a way to make the prisoners suffer.

Jim wasn’t sure why.  He couldn’t work that out.  They unlocked his manacles to make it look plausible that he could have climbed the fence.  Was it just for their sadistic pleasure?  Was it an excuse to keep enough guys around to complete that other camp?  Did they really need that other camp?  Were there really enough kinks out there that could afford to pay for this type of “experience?”  He estimated that there were maybe 90 guys in the camp.  At the rates that they charged that was a pretty nice chunk of change.  Were they worried that if they let guys go they would tell stories and scare other potential prisoners away?  Jim doubted that.  If a guy had told him about it, he probably still would have signed up thinking he was exaggerating.

He must have passed out.  He was startled awake by the painful yanking on the wire.  The guards were getting him loose.  He could see that they had wire cutters with them, but they were enjoying jerking the wire this way and that as Jim moaned and finally cried out in pain.  Eventually they freed him and dragged him back into the camp where the rest of the prisoners waited, still at attention.

They dropped him at the foot of the saw horse shaped frame that they had used when they had whipped the other guy.  As he looked up at it fear and resignation set in.  He was already cut and bleeding from the barbed wire.  Soon his back would be bloodied and he would have scars to remind him of this day.  He saw the Commander’s boots heading his way.  Once he was close, the guards pulled Jim to his feet and secured him to the frame.

“We know that this prisoner was one of the accomplices from the previous attempt.  He was positively identified as such.  It appears that he was hoping to escape before being found out and now we see the result.  Sentences are hereby extended for all prisoners by a period of not less than 4 weeks.”

The first lash surprised Jim. The second and third made him cringe.  The fourth and fifth made him scream and realize that his dick was getting hard.  He quickly lost count.  All he knew was that his back was on fire.  He passed out for the second time in only a few hours.  When he came to, he was fully shackled and locked in the cage for all to see.  He moaned and wept as the other prisoners filed out in their work details.  As his situation settled into his mind and he tried to get comfortable in the cage, he realized that his cock was again hard.  He had fantasized about things like this.  Brutal as it was he was so turned on by it that he would have jacked off then and there if he were able to actually reach his dick.

When the yard was empty the Commander casually strolled up to the cage.  “Prisoner, did you really think that you could escape?”

Jim croaked, “I was set up you bastard.”

“Now, now. Language!” He grinned.  “That will add a few days to your stay in that cage.  I suggest you keep your mouth shut from now on!  You are at our mercy.  There is nowhere to run to even if you could escape this camp.  You are miles from the nearest road and the woods are patrolled.  You signed on for a 4 week ‘experience,’ it has already been 5 ½ weeks.  I am sure that you were unaware of that as time begins to have no meaning here.  One loses count of the days so easily here.”

“Anyway, I didn’t come out here to taunt you, although that is fun in and of itself!  No, I wanted to have a quiet discussion.  I read your application again a few days ago.  I do that from time to time for the prisoners that interest me.  That is why you were framed, as you called it.  I need you right where I can see you from now on.” He paced a little in front of the cage.

“You will be in this cage for a week; as an example to the other prisoners.  If, however, you identify one of your co-conspirators, I will reduce the amount of time that you will be locked in that concrete cell that you spent your first nights in.  If you chose not to cooperate, though, that cold, concrete cell will be all that you know for a long time to come.  So long, in fact, that you might not be able to sleep on anything but a concrete floor once you are finally released!”

He paused. Noticing Jim’s growing erection.  He didn’t comment on it, though. “The bunkmate that was taken with you last night.  He interests me, as well.  He will be brought out here for you to identify as an accomplice sometime in the next few days.  You will identify him while the other prisoners watch.  He will deny it, of course, but so what?  He will then take your place in this cage.  We will then announce that all the attempted escapees have now been caught and punished and I will then allow those who have served their actual original sentences to depart.”

He chuckled.  “They will tell their BDSM buddies about their experience here and new applications will come pouring in.  That’s how it works, you see.  The brutality of these public discipline displays is such a fucking turn-on to guys like you that they come running with checkbooks and credit cards.  But you.  You are now a little problem for me.  I see that your dick has been hard as hell for the last few minutes.  A sign that you actually are enjoying this in some perverted way.  I suspected as much as I read your application.  I can usually tell the ones that really get off on this.  The others get off on the labor, or the prison, cells, or the guards.  But guys like you get off on the more brutal stuff.  I like that.  I really do.”

He again started to pace.  “I can’t really just let you go now that you know my little marketing scheme.  Even though you might promise not to tell anyone or complain to the authorities about your treatment, odds are not in my favor.  So here’s the deal.  When you single-out your former bunk mate, I’ll have three just like you; including the one who ratted on you.  He’s been here for years and served his purpose.  Maybe I’ll release him now.  You see, he has been my whipping boy.  He’s the one I have used to make this scheme work.  But we are turning over more prisoners now and he can’t be on display in this cage after being whipped for false escape attempts as often as I need.  Now, I have you.  And, hopefully, your bunkmate, too.”

He grinned at Jim.  “Just think about it.  Every few weeks you’ll be punished, whipped, and caged like an animal.  You’ll be kept in a cell for days or more in between that you will be out on work detail.  Everything that you fantasized about in your previous life.”
Jim moaned and started to shake his head.

“Oh, your head is saying no rather mildly, but your dick is saying yes at full mast.  Besides, you don’t have a say in the matter.  I have decided that you interest me.  That’s what matters.  You will learn to enjoy it more than you already do, I am sure!”

He walked a few paces, turned back, “Oh, turning your bunkmate in will only reduce your stay in a cell.  Cooperating with me, on the other hand, will eventually earn you favors.  I might even fuck you from time to time.  Handsome little horndog that you are.”

He walked away leaving Jim alone in the cage.  Jim was still for a while thinking.  Shit!  He couldn’t believe what he was in for.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to escape unless they let him go.  Whipped and caged solely for the Commander’s plan to garner more business for his camp.  He would be nothing more than a prop.  Nothing but a toy to be abused in front of hundreds of guys.  In front of hundreds of guys…….”

His head was no longer shaking “no.”  His dick was as hard as he had ever felt it.  He struggled in the cage to reach it.  The more he struggled against the manacles, chains, and bars of the small cage, the harder he seemed to get!”

 

The End

 

 

Metal would like to thank Marknorth for this story. Prisoners, if you like it, be sure to leave a comment.