Date: Tue, 30 Jan 2018 15:05:07 +0000 From: Mat W Subject: Labour camp part 3 Thanks for the comments so far - let me know what you think mattspank74@gmail.com Labour camp part 3 The prisoner was told to stand, and the guards led all those who had misbehaved away. "I tell you every morning, scum, that we will not tolerate misbehaviour and we will punish it severely. You are here to learn and to learn fast. Mr Senior, the work duties?" The older guard stepped forward, called a guard's name and began calling prisoners' names from his iPad. As he called each name, a prisoner left the lines of roll call and lined up in front of the guard. The new prisoners walked more gingerly as they slowly got used to being barefoot on the rough ground, while the more experienced prisoners walked more easily. Those prisoners whose nipples were clamped or who had plug's up their arses also walked more gingerly, the clamped prisoners trying to stop the heavy chain moving about too much. The groups were different sizes by the time that all the names had been called. Chris was the only new prisoner in a fairly small group. The guards clipped the collar chains to each of the prisoners and then chained them together as they had been before. Chris's group was led off at the jog which was now becoming familiar to them. They jogged quite a long way, coming to a halt outside one of the shacks quite some way away from the place where the roll call had been carried out. Beside the shack was a small metal shed. The guard unclipped each of the prisoners' chains and ordered them to kneel and put their hands on their heads. He then moved among them, fitting the gags back into their mouths, reminding them that they had no need to speak anyway. When all the gags were in place, he walked away from the group and opened the door to the metal shack. Chris was shocked to see that kneeling in the shed was the escapee from the previous night. The heavy chain and nipple clamps were still attached, and his hands were behind his head without being attached to his collar - he clearly had to `choose' to keep his hands in place, rather than being able to relax and use the chain to hold them in place. There was a chain from each side of the prisoner's collar which held him in place in the middle of the shed and, although Chris couldn't see it, his ankles were cuffed and chained to the back of the shed as well. The ring gag that the prisoner had been wearing the night before had been replaced by a thick rubber gag which had an attachment on the front of it, a small rubber bowl which looked rather like the bowl of a bird bath, but much smaller. The guard unzipped his uniform trousers, took his cock out of his flies and began pissing into the bowl. Chris knew that there were `no holds barred' in these camps, but he was really quite shocked to see that this prisoner was being used as a human urinal. Chris could hear the urine filling the bowl attached to the prisoner's gag, and the slurping noise as the prisoner swallowed. Occasionally the guard `missed' the bowl, pissing over the prisoner's face or body. When he had shaken the last few drops of piss over the prisoner, the guard put his cock away, zipped himself up and shut the door of the metal shed with the prisoner inside. Once he was done, the guard approached the prisoners again and, telling them to stand, he started putting them through some basic physical exercises. The prisoners had to do 50 pressups, 50 situps, 50 squats and 50 burpees. Being fairly fit, most of the prisoners didn't find this too taxing, but a couple of the less fit one were really struggling. Although he was fairly fit, Chris wasn't used to this kind of exercise and he and a very handsome black guy were the last two to finish the exercises. "Ah," said the guard, "we appear to have a draw for today's special prize. Brown and Hunter, we need to make a decision between you." The guard thought for a moment and then pointed to a tree that was standing on its own about 80 yards away. "Ok, scum, you will sprint to that tree, go round it and sprint back. The first one to kneel and kiss my boot will be off the hook. Clear?" The two prisoners mumbled `Yes, Sir' through their gags. And Chris wondered why they needed to make a decision between the two slowest. "Ready, set, go!" The guard yelled. Chris was at an immediate disadvantage because of his bare feet not being conditioned for running on the rough ground. It was also uncomfortable running naked, his genitals bouncing about as he ran. The motion and nudity also began to make him get hard, and he noticed that the black man was in the same condition. He almost managed to catch the other prisoner, but the black guy put on an extra spurt of speed and managed to drop to his knees and plant a kiss on the guard's boot moments before Chris reached him. "Well done, Hunter, you get to go and fetch the chair and the board for young Mr Brown here." The black guy stumbled to his feet and headed at a trot to the shack. He came back carrying a wooden chair and a piece of hardboard. He put the board down on the ground in front of the guard and the chair beside it, before rejoining the rest of the prisoners kneeling where they had been waiting while he and Chris had their race. "So, Brown, the prize for coming last in our exercise session is a mix of pleasure and suffering. When did you last ejaculate?" "At the weekend, Sir," Chris spoke as clearly as he could through his gag. "Excellent. So the game here is for you to cum like the dog you are." Chris was confused and the guard looked at the other prisoners, "Stuart, get on the board and show our new boy how he needs to perform." One of the youngest prisoners came forward, he looked as if he was only days older than the minimum age for the labour camp programme. He had a handsome face, floppy dark hair, prominent nipples and a long, flaccid cock with a trimmed bush of pubes above it. He walked to the piece of hardboard that the black prisoner had put on the ground, knelt beside it and then lay face down on it. "So you see the position that you need to adopt, Brown? A nice, neat body position, hands flat on the ground beside you, knees apart, feet up and together with the soles upwards, penis pointing away from your body. Is that clear, Brown?" "Yes, Sir," Chris responded through his gag. "Right then, back in place, Stuart, and get in position, Brown." The young prisoner got up and trotted back to his place, and Chris moved over to the board and tried to copy his position. His penis had become fully erect as he watched the young lad on the board. It was very uncomfortable pushing his engorged penis back under his body. The guard walked around Chris, "Head up, scum, hands. And spread your knees and get those soles pointing skywards! That's better, Brown. Now, you hump that board until you're scum dick spurts its juice. And make sure you keep your head and feet up at all times." Chris thought that the trip from the court was the most humiliating thing he had ever experienced, being naked in that van with those other men had been awful. But now he was going to have to hump a board in the open air until he came. Chris began humping the board as he had been told. It would have been far easier to get the release he had to get if he had his erect penis under his body rubbing between the board and his stomach. With it pointing towards his feet there was not a lot of friction and every time he got anywhere near close to cumming a tiny movement of his body would release the necessary friction and the moment would be gone. As he bucked and writhed, the guard shouted at him if his posture varied from that which the other prisoner had demonstrated. It was not comfortable to have his neck stretched up and his knees rubbing against the board. It felt like forever until Chris finally really did reach the point of no return, but once he did he gave in to the feeling as he came, the pulses of pleasure coinciding with the spurts of cum from his penis. Chris was embarrassed but horny to realise that he was also getting off on having to do this in front of the group of the rest of the prisoners. The orgasm subsided and Chris's awareness of his predicament came flooding back in. "Right, Brown," the guard said, " I hope you enjoyed that. Now you need to clean up your mess." Chris got to his knees and looked back at the pearly spunk now on the board and then looked round for what he should use to clean up. "Oh, I am so sorry, scum, I forgot," the guard said in a sarcastic voice, walking up to Chris and unbuckling the gag from his mouth, "All you need to clean up is your scummy tongue. Get on with it." Chris was mortified now, having orgasmed any thought that this situation was erotic or arousing had evaporated and he just felt dirty and pathetic. He manoeuvred himself so that he didn't have to look at the group of prisoners whilst he licked up his cum, but the guard ordered him to move himself so that he was facing the group instead. The cum was cooling rapidly and whilst Chris had swallowed other guys' cum on many occasions, he rarely swallowed his own and never before in such a humiliating situation. The guard watched him cleaning up the spunk from the board, making sure that Chris didn't miss any of his mess. When the guard was finally satisfied, he picked up the chair that Hunter had brought out with him. Chris noticed now that there were leather cuffs attached to the top of each of the legs of the chair. "Right, scum, back down on the board," The guard said to Chris. Chris lay back down and the guard lifted the chair up and placed it over Chris's body, with the seat more or less directly over his buttocks. With sharp barks of `arm' or `leg', the guard cuffed Chris's wrists and ankles to the chair. "Get me the cane, Stuart." Chris couldn't see much from his position prone on the board. His arms and legs ached as they were tightly bound to the chair. "I am not going to lie, scum," the guard said, "This is going to hurt. But hopefully it will encourage you to do better with your exercises next time. As your saw your colleague locked up in the hole do last night, you will count each stroke, thank me for it and ask for another. Any play-acting or hysterics and the beating will go on for longer. Take your punishment as if you were something approaching a man and, maybe, by the time you get out of here, you will be." The next thing that Chris heard was the swish of the cane through the air, followed by a sharp pain coursing through the sole of his right foot. Chris couldn't help but yell out, as it felt like a tongue of fire had licked through his foot, but he tried to remember to take it properly. "One, Sir, thank You, Sir, please may I have another?" Chris spat out as quickly as he could. A second stroke of the cane landed in exactly the same place as the first, causing Chris to yell even louder. He was definitely going to try harder at his exercises tomorrow...