ARMY FLOGGING

Author:

This true event took place some years ago when I was a young soldier, fresh from basic training and just joined my unit.  Although I had heard stories of initiations and beatings etc for young recruits in the Army, nothing had happened to me or my mates during basic training.

            When I joined my unit it was the beginning of summer.  The Battalion was away on exercise and there were only a handful of soldiers left on base to fulfil guard duty.  For the first couple of weeks I kept my head down, my mouth shut and did my duties as required.  Then one Friday a sergeant popped his head round the door and said I had been “volunteered” to help out on the Army Cadet Force (ACF) weekend along with a few other guys.  I hadn’t anything planned so I wasn’t that bothered.  When Saturday came it transpired I was one of five “volunteers”.  The others were older guys, all private soldiers like me, but I could tell they were rough types.

            The sergeant took us out very early in the morning onto Salisbury Plain in a Land rover and dropped us off on a small wooded copse at the top of a remote hill.  We were to be the enemy for the ACF later in the day.  We had several hours to wait so we settled down in a small clearing.  The sun shone and it was beginning to get hot.  A couple of the guys smoked and chatted.  The others went to sleep for a while.  As the morning drew on the sun became sweltering hot.  The boredom had set in for the older guys and they began to swear and cuss about hanging around for so long.  After a while they were all getting agitated and heated arguments began.  I knew it wouldn’t be long before I got drawn into it and sure enough the moment came when “What the fuck are you looking at” or words to that effect were directed at me.  During the next few minutes things seemed to happen very quickly.  The guys all decided I was worthy of ridicule.  One of them decided I needed a good thumping, the others agreed but somehow it was turned into a game.  They told me to run and depending how long I could run for, and not get caught, would depend on how severe a beating I got.    

            Well I ran, actually it was more of a sprint, as best I could while wearing boots and full combats.  In my mind I knew it was useless to resist, eventually I would get caught.  So I slowed down and let one of them catch me up.  If I was going to get a thump it might as well be sooner rather than later.  Another two caught up and I was roughly dragged back to the copse.  We were all panting and breathing heavily.  I detected a change in their attitude, they seem pleased to have caught me and were grinning.

            I waited for the beating but before it began I was thrown to the ground.  One guy stood on my hand and another had grabbed my legs.  I’m not sure why or who said it but “I know, lets string him up” was shouted and they all readily agreed.  They found a branch and pushed it through one sleeve of my jacket, along my arm, my back, and along the other arm, like a scarecrow.  My feet were tied together over my boots, using a figure of eight knot.  I know it sounds stupid now but at the time I couldn’t help thinking what a very professional job was made of that knot.  I was gagged, using a sock I think, and dragged over to a suitable tree.  They threw a rope over a branch and tied my feet to it.  Three of them lifted me up while the other played the rope.  After a few minutes I was hanging upside down, my head about six inches off the ground.  They stood back admiring their handiwork, lighting cigarettes.  They left me there for a good ten minutes while chatting and smoking.  I had no idea what to expect.  I wasn’t uncomfortable, but I did feel vulnerable and hoped they wouldn’t punch me in the groin.

            They came back, one carrying a large stick and he began to prod me. Another one grabbed the stick and whacked the back of my legs with it.  I grimaced and twitched at the pain.  I think one of the said “On the arse man, on the arse” and I knew where the next one would land.  Sure enough they began to whack my butt, slowly at first and not too heavily but with increasing speed, or maybe it was the pain that was increasing, I couldn’t tell.  The guys jeered and laughed.  My eyes watered but the pain was just about bearable.  My combat trousers and underpants acted as insulation.  I think they could sense my limit hadn’t yet been reached and one suggested “trousers down”.  Without hesitation another stepped forward and undid my belt buckle and trouser button.  He unzipped my fly and pushed my trousers upward to my feet.  They tied my trousers so they wouldn’t fall down.  As I recall I was wearing an old pair of blue underpants at the time.  Most soldiers don’t wear boxer shorts as they tend to ruck and absorb lots of sweat when you run.  I could feel humiliation and embarrassment rising within me.  I knew my skimpy briefs were unlikely to give any relief and sure enough when they began to whack me again I could feel my buttocks vibrating like jelly.  By now the pain was intense yet I had begun to feel de-sensitised to it.  All I could think of was my embarrassment.  By now the guys were in their element.  They stopped whacking me, three of them had sticks and were prodding me all over.  The fourth guy held back, he hadn’t whacked me and didn’t seem so intent on hurting me.  It was clear they wanted to see the marks on my arse.  My briefs were grabbed and roughly pulled off.  I could feel my cock and balls fall out and the feeling of being naked made me go slightly erect.  They laughed and joked, pointing at my arse and prick.  I thought it might be over but it wasn’t.  A few minutes passed and they all delved into their kit and pulled out cam cream.  Three of them had the hard stick type and the other had a soft toothpaste like tube.

            It was obvious what they were going to do.  They pulled my jacket and shirt down so they were round my neck.  I was totally exposed.  The three with sticks covered my legs, back, face and hands as much as they could.  The one with the tube squeezed some out onto my arse cheeks and in full view of the others began to rub it in.  I didn’t think it was likely but I hoped he wouldn’t touch my dick.  They laughed and began to walk away, satisfied.  The one with the tube put a large dollop of cream in his hand, grinned directly at me and then covered my balls and scrotum, finally wrapping his hand round the shaft of my penis, giving it a sharp tug as his hand fell away.  I flinched and my semi erect cock jerked a little.  I was terrified something more might happen but they had finally grown bored and left for some more smokes.  A couple of minutes later the younger one came back with a knife and cut me down.  He just untied me and that was that.