Slave camp 1

Author: plugged
Title: Slave camp 1
Date: 29 October 2008

Slave Camp
by
Dougie fae Glesca







Chapter 1:- The nightmare begins
I woke up with someone shaking me. I opened my eyes then shut them again quickly. My head thumped. I must have been drunk last night. Slowly I opened my eyes and stared into six faces. Who are you? I wondered, as I tried to focus.
"You had better get up before the Masters arrive." said one guy.
I stared at him. What was he talking about?

I sat up and stared past him at my surroundings. I was in a brick room like a dormitory, about 20 ft wide by 100 ft long. Along one wall was a row of wooden beds with no blankets and along the other wall were eight windows, all of them barred.
At one end wall was a set of double doors and at the other end of the room were six steps the full width of the room leading up to a raised platform going back a further 20 ft. At the back of the platform was another set of double doors.

I looked at the guys and realised they were all naked, and so was I.
What was this? A gang bang?
I jumped out of bed and faced them, my back to the wall.
I clenched my fist and said "The first bastard who touches me gets this in the jaw."
I counted ten guys now. The other four lay on their beds. The six might overpower me but not without a struggle.
"He doesn't know." said one guy.
"You're in a Slave Camp." said another.

I stared at him. I realised they were all wearing leather collars with padlocks and that they were all shaved from their head to their balls.
I put my hand up to my neck. There was a collar round it. I put my hand on my head. I was bald. There was a full length mirror on one of the walls. I ran over to it and stared. My head had been shaved. My chest had been shaved. My balls had been shaved. Even my eyebrows had been shaved. My nipples had been pierced and there were steel rings through them. Tattooed above my left nipple was a number. 107.

I stared at the two nearest guys. They also had their nipples pierced and their chests were also tattooed with a number. I looked at the others. They were shaved and a number tattooed on their chest.
"What's this all about? Who put you up to this? I bet it was by brother, Jock fae Glesca. This is the type of joke my brother would play. How did he manage to persuade you ten guys to shave your heads and your balls to throw this stunt?"
"You've become a slave. We're all slaves and there is no escape." said one of them.

Just then a bell rang and all the guys ran to a bed and stood at attention. There were twelve beds, ten guys plus myself.
Each bed was over 8 ft long. I would soon learn the significance of the extra length. Spaced along the side of the bed were four large rings bolted on each side of the bed.
The doors opened at the raised platform end of the room and a guy in full army combat kit walked in. He had sergeant's stripes on his right arm and under his left arm he carried a cane.
He looked down at us then bellowed "Company. Fall in."

A few seconds later six skinheads entered in single file, marched down the steps and along the side of the room. They all had zero crop haircuts, black T-shirts, faded tight fitting blue jeans turned up above the ankle and wearing highly polished 18 hole Doc Martin boots.
Most of them had tattoos on their necks or arms. On their hands they all wore black leather studded mitts. From their left waist they each carried a pair of handcuffs. One of them also carried chains and manacles.
They marched down the steps in single file and walked until the first one stood opposite the last bed. They stopped, turned left facing the beds and stood at attention. I must admit the well built torsos and the bulges at the crotch of their jeans certainly turned me on.

Behind them marched another skinhead also in faded blue jeans but he wore a blue and white checked shirt rolled up above his elbows and a pair of red braces. On his shirt at the shoulders were epaulets with corporal's stripes. He wore leather studded mitts and carried a leather truncheon in his right hand.
He had a tattoo across his cheek reading "BASTARD" and he certainly looked the part. Instead of following them after coming down the steps he turned left in front of the platform, marched ten steps and came to a halt. He turned right and came to attention.
He shouted "Discipline guards. At the ready."

The skinheads took up an "at ease" stand with their feet about 15" apart. However their arms remained at their sides with fists clenched. The corporal held his truncheon horizontally in both hands. If the group was meant to look menacing it certainly succeeded.

Next, six skinheads in number 2 haircut marched in. The first three wore urban combat trousers, high ankle boots, light grey webbed belts and dark grey T-shirts. The second three wore green army combat trousers, high ankle boots, khaki webbed belt and green T-shirts. All six were carrying canes in their left hands and took up a position opposite the last six beds.

After them marched a skinhead in army kit with corporal's stripes on the sleeves of his shirt. Like the guards corporal he carried a truncheon. After coming down the steps he turned left, marched three steps, stopped and turned right.
He shouted "Training guards. At the ready."
The combat skinheads also took up an "at ease" stand and held their canes in both hands horizontally just below the waist band.

The sergeant on the platform moved to the side and saluted six guys walking into the room. They were all dressed in leather gear including shiny motorcycle boots, leather caps and carrying riding crops.
The last guy to walk in came to the front of the platform. He must be the leader because he wore a Sam Browne belt and on the front of his cap was a silver insignia of crossed boots surrounded by a laurel wreath and chains across his cap visor. The crossed boots and wreath were also on each shoulder. Another guy took up a position beside him. He also wore a Sam Browne belt and a chain across his cap visor but there was no laurel wreath round the crossed boots on his cap. On his shoulders were crossed boots and three stars. Presumably he was a captain. The other four guys in leather had no Sam Browne belt. They only had one star and crossed boots on their shoulders and crossed boots on their caps. They must be lieutenants.

The leader said "Good morning, scum."
"Good morning, Sir." replied the naked guys together.
I looked round the room for a hidden camera. This must be a joke. Some one will jump out and say 'Smile. You're on Candid Camera.'
The leader looked at me and said the guy next to him "Is this the new recruit?"
"Yes, Sir." was the reply.
"Any problems regarding persuasion, Sergeant." said the leader.

The guy in full combat replied "None, Sir. We saw him eying up some skinheads so we sent in Guardsman Wilson to chat him up. It turns out the recruit said he was passing through and going to book into a hotel for the night. Guardsman Wilson followed the usual ploy and invited the recruit to stay with him. Once there, he was given a drugged drink and everything went like clockwork after that."
"Excellent. My commendation to Wilson. He makes a first class decoy."

So that's how I landed here. I remember now. That blonde skinhead who chatted me up. Handsome, with a lovely shaped arse and practically begged me to fuck him. I had been kidnapped by a bunch of loonies. Some fancy cult you read about in the newspapers. Well, this is one convert they won't get.
I moved towards the guy in the fancy dress and said "O.K. mate. I've had enough. Who gave you permission to shave my head and my balls?"
The guy with three stars on his shoulder shouted "Guards."

Immediately, four tough skinhead guards were on me. Two grabbed my arms and a third punched me in the balls and then the stomach. I gasped, unable to fight. The discipline guard corporal had run up and was giving instruction to cuff and gag me. I was dragged to the floor, my legs pulled apart and ankle irons fitted. The was a steel bar 20" long between the irons kept my feet at a set distance apart and would hinder any attempt to run. My arms were pulled behind my back and a pair of handcuffs fitted. A short chain between the cuffs and my collar kept my hands away from my arse. Next a wide strip of tape was rolled across my mouth and round my neck, effectively gagging me.

I was lifted to my knees. I had been so surprised by the sudden turn of events that I hadn't put up much resistance but now my wits were returning fast.
"You will address the Commandant as Sir at all times. You have a lot to learn. Obey all orders and you enjoy the life of a slave." said the guy with three stars on his jacket.
I stared at the group on the platform and started to shout but all that came out were muffled grunts. I struggled with my handcuffs and leg irons but it was to no avail. The corporal grabbed my balls and squeezed them. I let out a muffled yell.
"Shut your fuck'n mouth and grunt when you're spoken to." he said.
That made me all the angrier and I continued to struggle with my bonds but it was useless.

The leather guys all laughed.
"I think we have a tough one here, Sir." said the captain.
"He has a mind of his own. I like that." said the Commandant.
"I wonder if he'll be as tough as 312. I was sorry when he eventually succumbed and became an obedient slave." said the captain.
"Yes." said the Commandant. "A few more like 312 would brighten up our lives. Who have you allocated 107 to?"
"Lieutenant Thomson, Sir."
The Commandant nodded and said "Corporal. Take 107 to his bed and have two guards stand over him. Keep him on his knees. It will be good practice for his new way of life."




"Are we ready for inspection now, sergeant?" said the Commandant.
"Yes, Sir." said the sergeant stepping back and saluting.
The Commandant came down the steps followed by the captain, the lieutenants and the sergeant with a clipboard under his arm. The discipline corporal following a few steps behind.

The Commandant stopped in front of the first slave who immediately dropped to his knees, put his hands behind his back and kissed the Commandant's crotch then each of his shiny leather boots.
Keeping his head bowed the slave said "Slave 101 at your disposal, Sir."
"How did 101 fare yesterday, sergeant?" said the Commandant.
"101 carried out all his instruction to the satisfaction of the corporals and has shown a considerable amount of enthusiasm over the last week." said the sergeant.

"Is this your slave, Mister Kyle?" said the Commandant to one of the lieutenants.
The lieutenant stepped forward saying "Yes, Sir. 101 has a natural talent as a slave. From the day he arrived he adjusted very well. He has had above average ratings each week and I understand he is keen to reach grade 4 before slave 206. Both were recruited on the same day and knew each other. I would certainly recommend 101's promotion."
"I have read his report and agree he should be upgraded. Have him report to the shackler and have a new collar fitted." said the Commandant.
Keeping his head bowed, slave 101 said "Thank you, Sir. It is a great honour to be a slave under you. I hope I do not disappoint you.

The poor guy has obviously been brainwashed into believing a slave's life is a bed of roses.
The quicker I get out of this place the better. The slave continued to kneel and keep his head bowed as the group moved on to the second slave who immediately fell to his knees and went through the same ritual is the first one. He had an average report for the previous day and the Commandant appeared happy.
The group passed an empty bed and stopped at the next slave who went through the same ritual as the first two.

"What is slave 103's report?" said the Commandant.
"Not so good, Sir." said the sergeant reading info on his clipboard. "Slave 103 was instructed to clean out the NCOs toilet. When I later examined the bowls I found a trace of brown excrement on the side of one bowl. Slave 103 received 20 lashes as punishment and was ordered to clean the bowl again, but this time with his tongue. This he duly did. I should add this is not the first time that slave 103 has been careless cleaning the NCOs quarters. He left soap marks on the taps of the wash hand basin two days ago."
The Commandant said "I think extra punishment will set an encouragement to him and other slave who might become lazy. This is your slave, Mister Kyle?"
"Yes, Sir." said Lieutenant Kyle with a sigh. "Slave 103 has been a disappointment. He is lazy. He has been punished repeatedly and I am beginning to suspect he enjoys being punished more than being a slave. I suggest he be given a course of electro-shock treatment instead of lashes as punishment."

Slave 103 who had been kneeling silently at the Commandants feet suddenly shouted "No Sir. Not the electro-shock. Please Sir."
He grabbed the Commandants legs and looked up at him pleadingly. Two discipline guards jumped forward and dragged the slave from him.
The Commandant said "I think you may have solved your punishment problem, Mister Kyle. Permission to use the shock treatment if required.
Lieutenant Kyle said "Guards. Fit handcuffs to 103. A short "shock" might cure his laziness."
Two grinning discipline guards fitted the poor guy with cuffs.

The group moved to slave 104 who followed the usual ritual. A different lieutenant moved forward. It appeared that one leather guy was the master to three slaves. According to the sergeant, slave 104 had complained of feeling unwell on the 10 mile walk carrying a back pack. He was seen removing some of the weights from the pack to make it lighter. He had been given 20 lashes and an extra 15 lbs were added to the pack. Also, said the sergeant slowly, slave 104 had not thanked the guards for punishing him.
The Commandant said to the lieutenant "What action do you propose to take, Mister Thomson?"
"Immediate action, Sir. He will receive 40 strokes.
Stand up 104. Bend over and touch your toes."

The slave stood up and standing with his legs wide apart bent over and touched his toes. I noticed he had his number also tattooed on the left buttock of his arse. The Lieutenant stood behind him and drawing his whip across the slave's arse gave him 20 lashes.
The slave counted each stroke. "One, thank you Sir. Two, thank you Sir. Three, thank you Sir."
By the time the lashes had reached 30 the slave was gasping after each stroke. After the fortieth stroke the slave turned round and knelt in front of the leather guy, kissed his boots and said "Thank you for punishing me Sir."

The group moved on to slaves 105. He was punished for some trivial misdemeanour and received 20 lashes. If they thought I was going to get down on my knees and kiss some guy's boots and thanked him for belting me across the arse they had better think again.
As I had been watching 105 my eye happened to pass up and down slave 106 and noticed he had a semi hard on and his face was going red. Standing opposite him a discipline guard was rubbing his crotch and staring at 106. Obviously the slave was turned on by the skinhead. He closed his eyes but the erection still increased.
Before the Commandant reached him, 106 was on his knees with head bowed.

The skinhead guard standing opposite 106 came to attention and said "Permission to speak, Sir. I believe slave 106 has broken Rule 4."
The captain said "Stand up, 106."
The slave stood up. The Commandant saw his erection and tickled it with the end of his riding crop which made the guy's cock rise a little further.
"What is the meaning of this?" roared the Commandant and whipped the tip of his crop across the slave's balls. The guy looked as if he was going berserk. All because another guy gets a hard on looking at a skinhead with a big cock.
"I'm sorry, Sir. I do my best. I want to be a good slave, Sir. Honest, Sir. Rule 4 is the only rule I have broken in the last month, Sir."

"Quote Rule 4 to me, slave." ordered the Commandant.
"A slave will show no sexual arousement unless ordered by his master. To do so is a punishable offence." said the slave looking straight ahead.
Without taking his eyes off the slave the Commandant said "Mister Dunn, did you give your slave an order to have an erection?"

The lieutenant stepped forward. "Certainly not, Sir. The problem seems to be the discipline guards, Sir. 106 has a weakness for skinheads. He is a natural slave, Sir. He approached the camp gates and stated he wanted trained as a slave and within two weeks he was in grade 2, the fastest promotion this session. He has been here three months now and in theory should be grade 3 but I cannot promote him until we cure him of Rule 4."

"Then perhaps three weeks with the discipline guards will cure him. When the guards do their daily exercises and physical training make them strip naked and have 106 in the middle of them. Two weeks of seeing cocks and ball all the time cured slave 307 so it might cure 106. If that doesn't work we will have to sell him at a discount." said the Commandant.

Sell him!! Was I hearing correctly? They are going to sell the guy. I must be dreaming. I shall waken up in a few minutes.
My thoughts were interrupted as the Commandant stopped in front of me and said "I shall look forward to your progress, 107. I like spirited recruits. I often take part in their punishment."
I let out a muffled garble, tried to free my wrists and shook my head as if I was willing the tape to fall off. The leather bastards just laughed at my efforts. I finally gave up and he moved on to slave 108.

Slaves 108, 109 and 111 were all punished for some triviality. The bed for Slave 110 was unoccupied.
When the Commandant finished inspection he walked back to the platform followed by the masters and the sergeant. The two corporals took their place in front of the platform.
The Commandant said "Performance will have to improve or there will be stronger punishment. When I inspect you next week and if performance has not improved there will be punishment all round, and that includes the guards."
Some of the guards suddenly looked worried.
"Carry on, sergeant." said the Commandant. He turned and walked out of the room followed by the captain.

The sergeant stepped forward and said "All slaves except 103, 106 and 107 come to attention."
All the slaves except those numbers mentioned rose and stood at attention.
"All slaves except 103, 106 and 107 take two steps forward, left turn."
The slaves stepped forward and turned left with their backs to the platform and facing the door at the end of the room.
"When you are given the order you will march out of the billet to the locker room and put on your footwear. You will then assemble outside in a line for you duty allocations.
Guards. To the door."

The two end guards opened the door, walked through and took up position outside the door. The next two guards marched up and took position inside the door.
"Slaves, in single file, forward march."
The slaves marched out of the billet followed by the sergeant and the field guard corporal and two field guards. That left two discipline guards, four field guards and the discipline guard corporal to watch over three slaves. (Or two slaves and a kidnapped guy - me).

The two discipline guards beside me hauled me to my feet. The lieutenants came down from the platform. My so-called "master", Lieutenant Thomson, followed by Lieutenant Dunn came over to me and examined me as if he was buying me, feeling my body, fondling my cock and balls, went behind me and gently rubbed my arse, finally he spoke.
"Not a bad specimen. I'm sure you're looking forward to belting him into shape." said Lieutenant Dunn to his fellow officer.
I could only glare at him. I was being treated as if I were an object, not a human being. Then I realised that was what a slave is, an object.
"Take 107 to the locker room and fit him with footwear then take him to the correction centre and we will start right away." said my "master".

One of the detention guards fitted a spring hook into the ring of my collar and the other guard clipped a chain onto the handcuffs behind my back. I was led to the door like dog being taken for a walk.
Through the door of the billet is the locker room. It had rows of boxes and shelves.
"Boots and socks for 107." said a guard to the guy behind the counter. I looked at him. He was naked and had a collar on. He was a slave. The difference was that his head wasn't completely shaved. He had a number one haircut 2" wide in a Mohican style. His collar was in brown leather and the word "DEVOTED" embossed on it. Under his left nipple was tattooed D59.

Slaves are at their most usefulness between 20 and 40 years of age. After 40 they are set free. Some however cannot adjust and beg to return. They are made Trusted Slaves and work in the cook houses and stores and given a number prefixed by the letter D.
I was ordered to sit on a stool and the store slave fitted a pair of light grey heavy socks then a pair of Doc Martin boots.

I was then led by my chain and collar to the Correction Centre. When a slave is working in the camp he wears a collar, a pair of socks and a pair of highly polished Doc Martin boots. The socks are folded down neatly at the ankle above the boots. If he is working out of camp he wears the appropriate clothing. i.e. On field training he wears plain olive green overalls or army trousers and shirt; and high ankle army boots. The guards wear camouflage uniform.
At night the slave will polish his Doc Martin boots for inspection. He will also polish the Doc Martin boots of two discipline guards and the army boots of two field guards and if any guard is not satisfied the slave will get on his hands and knees and kick the boots clean. Needless to say the guards always found some excuse for a slave to lick his boots.