This story was told to me by an ex-squaddie who had left the army after twenty years service. He was a very eager prisoner and enjoyed spending long periods in metal restraints, a position I liked to keep him in too. Now he swears this happened to him whilst he was on basic training. If it didn’t, I still think it is a great tale.
Squaddie was in his late teens when he started training and was getting on well when he blotted his good record by returning to camp several minutes late, after a few days leave. Squaddie was put on report and marched in front of the commanding officer. Now this officer gave Squaddie a choice. He could either try to defend himself at a Courts Martial or take the commanding officer’s punishment. As he was guilty and didn’t want a record, he opted for what he thought would be the easy way out.
The officer said Squaddie was to spend five days in the guardroom. Now Squaddie had heard that meant standing around in a cell all day, so though it sounded boring, it was something that he thought he could endure for a few days.
Squaddie was marched out and straight to the guardroom, which was by the main gate. He was searched and changed into battle dress with no belt and boots without laces. The cell was about four foot wide by six and the door was open bars, like the cells he had seen in the Westerns. Chained against the wall of the cell was what looked like a wooden pallet, which he took to be the bed. There was no room for anything else. Now what Squaddie didn’t know was that the sergeant was a lazy so-and-so and couldn’t be bothered to keep checking that his prisoner was stood to attention in the cell and not resting. Squaddie was ordered into the cell and told to stand with his back to the cell door with his hands through the bars. Once in that position, the sergeant snapped a pair of heavy darby cuffs around the protruding wrists, ensuring that the prisoner remained upright. Squaddie wasn’t expecting this, but once the shock wore off, he was surprised to find that he was enjoying the experience so much that he had a hard on.
The weight of the cuffs and their tightness pulled on his aching wrists and shoulders. He tried to push the cuffs off over his hands, first the left and then the right. It was no good; there was some movement but they wouldn’t shift enough. The more he struggled, the more his arms and shoulders ached and the more he enjoyed it. It was a revelation as he had never experienced a situation like this and he was becoming more and more sexually aroused. So he struggled until he was tired but strangely happy with himself.
The sergeant decided to look in his exhausted prisoner around mid afternoon to feed and water him. This was where Squaddie found out he was also on a bread and water diet. He hoped he would be released to eat his meagre fare, but he soon found out he was wrong. The sergeant unlocked the cell door and sharply pulled it open. Squaddie was caught off guard and was dragged painfully with the heavy door. Without speaking, his captor broke off a piece of bread and stuffed it in Squaddie’s mouth. He started to gag on the dry bread only to start to choke even more when the sergeant forced the water from a metal cup into his mouth. This was repeated several times until the sergeant had had enough. Squaddie was wet down his front and his jaws ached from the forced feeding regime. He was trying to catch his breath when the sergeant moved away out of sight behind him. At last, thought Squaddie, he is going to undo the cuffs as he was bursting for a pee. Again the sudden movement of the door surprised him as it was violently closed. Squaddie found his voice and called out that he needed the toilet. The sergeant spoke for the first time that day, telling him to do it in his pants, though not in those exact words.
As it was autumn, the light soon dimmed in the cell though Squaddie had lost all sense of time. All that his mind was full of was the numbing ache in his arms and shoulders and the ever frustrating ache in his groin as his cock grew and subsided as he tried to find a comfortable position. He then heard muffled sounds as the sergeant handed over his post to the next relief. Surely, thought Squaddie, I will be un-shackled soon. The cell became dark and cold and Squaddie now had wet clinging pants to add to his discomfort. The light came on and the sudden light from the bare bulb hurt his eyes like an explosion. But with it came a sense of relief as he thought that things would return to normal, well near enough considering he was under guard. He shifted upright as he heard the sound of the boots approaching, two guards this time. He braced himself in anticipation of the cell door being pulled open, but it didn’t happen. Instead he heard a friendly voice ask if was all right and if he was ready for a kip. Despite the pain, the damp and the cold, Squaddie felt better as he started to look forward to ending the throbbing in his cock with a leisurely wank.
Not for the first time that day Squaddie found that what he expected and what happened were two different things. The door was pulled slowly open so he could keep his feet. A young military policeman moved into the cell and unlocking the pallet, let it fall to the floor. The sight of this closely cropped head bent in front of him made Squaddie’s cock strain harder, confusing him even more. The RMP corporal looked up at Squaddie with an icy stare as his gaze took in the obvious bulge in the pants. Squaddie flushed with a mixture of guilt and panic as he realised that he could now be on the receiving end of a beasting.
The young corporal squared up to Squaddie who flinched in preparation for the expected pain from a blow to his body. Instead, the corporal tightly gripped the tops of Squaddie’s arms as the handcuffs were seized and slowly taken off the right wrist. The movement of his arms being pulled to the front of his body caused Squaddie to yelp in pain but this didn’t stop the two Redcaps from completing their mission of putting their prisoner to bed for the night. The young corporal held his arms whilst the other moved into the cramped cell with him. The Redcaps each took an arm and pulled him forward. They didn’t utter a word, so Squaddie was unable to make a guess at what they wanted him to do as he was pulled further into the cell and then down on to the pallet. His back and legs hit the hard pallet with a bump. The burning in his arms increased several fold as they were wrenched up above his head until the wrists were yet again through the bars.
One of the Redcaps was stood with his legs on either side of Squaddie’s head whilst holding the tops of his arms. Squaddie had a great view up to the Redcaps groin and could smell the leather boots. Again he forgot the situation he was in and started to become aroused again. The two Redcaps seemed to be oblivious to all this as they fastened his wrists again, and push open the cell door. As the door opened so Squaddie was pulled by his wrists and the pallet went with his weight. They door was opened just enough for both Redcaps to get out and it was pushed closed again and locked. The light went out and Squaddie was left in the cold. He was cold, wet, hungry and cursing his bad timekeeping.
He was woken from his fitful sleep by the light blazing into the cell and the sound of boots on the stone floor. The procedure he went through the previous night was reversed as he was un-cuffed, stood up and fastened to the cell door. This time he did it in a dream as they pulled him around like a sack of coal, with no sense of the fact that he was able to experience pain. They left him for an unknown amount of time when the door was jerked opened and the sour face of the sergeant was in front of him again. He made a comment about the smell and state Squaddie was in and disappeared as suddenly as he arrived though leaving Squaddie swinging with the movement of the heavy door. The sergeant returned with a hosepipe in his hands; he called out and Squaddie jumped and caught his breath as the stream of cold water hit him. The sergeant said that he could smell shite, so he stuffed the hose into the top of Squaddie’s pants and the water filled his boots. It stopped as suddenly as it started and the NCO did his vanishing acting, leaving Squaddie trembling with the shock of the hosing down.
Breakfast was bread and water served in the same way as the night before. The cell door was shut once again and Squaddie was left to his thoughts. Once he had started to dry out and warm up, the pleasant feelings he had had the day before returned, only this time he was able to elaborate on them. The tightness around his wrist and the inability to move was such a sexual turn on that he fantasised about the cropped head of the corporal the night before and the lovely smell of the mixture of boot polish and leather. Squaddie desperately wanted to be free of the heavy door but stay cuffed and on his knees in front of the stern faced corporal. He wanted to smell the boots again. In fact he wanted to be made to smell them and even taste them. Lunchtime arrived and the boring meal was taken in the same way again, only this time Squaddie enjoyed it. He enjoyed the rough way the sergeant pushed the bread in his mouth and he even started to fantasise about the sergeant roughing him up. He wanted the excitement and physical contact whilst still being in manacles and unable to resist.
All this was confusing, as he knew he could end up in Colchester Glasshouse if these feelings for his fellow servicemen continued. He would be dishonourable discharged before he had even started properly but even this didn’t stop him savouring every glorious moment of his captivity. As far as his captors thought, they had subdued him completely. He didn’t complain about the rough treatment, the cuffing or even that he wasn’t allowed to pee or shit in a sanitary way but left to stew in his own mess until the hosing down. What they didn’t know was all the time he was there he enjoying the treatment and feeling free to experience the helplessness of being restrained and the pain. Squaddie liked the burning pain in his shoulders and the freedom to go a toilet where he was. But most of all he enjoyed the physical attention of the Redcaps, which in his mind he turned into a sexual man on man, encounter.
He was released late on the fifth day. The sergeant unscrewed the locks on the handcuffs and Squaddie’s arms fell heavily to either side of his body. He was given his laces back and he struggled to put them back in. The sergeant gave him a playful pat on the shoulders as a goodbye gesture but it sent red-hot pains, pleasurably, round his body. Though his arms ached and felt heavy as lead, Squaddie quickly made his way to the toilet block. Once safely behind the locked door of a cubicle, he was able to finally give himself the relief from the pent of frustration of five days of not even being able to touch his cock, let alone wank.
Once back in training, with a clean slate, Squaddie kept his head down and wasn’t late again. It was decided he had learnt his lesson and would become a good soldier. What they didn’t know was that the experience had awakened longings and feelings that Squaddie hadn’t known existed and that his mind wasn’t always on the sort of military manoeuvres the Top Brass would approve of.