tagNonConsent/ReluctanceBoot Camp Blues

Boot Camp Blues

bydeputy duffy©

In northern Vermont there's an old school building that we had used once as the State Police Training Facility. Some vandals had trashed the place recently, and Deputy Johns and I were sent up there to play janitor. And I certainly wasn't happy about it. But then, in the debris of some vandalized wooden lockers, I found these papers -- letters from a girl to her sister.

It was kind of strange at first to read them, but it was also kind of titillating, too. It took some work and some research to reconstruct the whole story.

I found out that we had used the old school building for more than just a training facility. Seems that in the 80s (when I was still in school), the Corrections Department had used it, too. They had "Boot Camps" in the summer, back before they were all the rage and the celebrities even got into the act.

It had its detractors and they lasted only a couple of years. Some people apparently would rather have convicts rotting in cells, than out doing roadwork or cleaning up parks, which is what the boot campers did. Each session lasted two weeks and was segregated by sex, one session for males and one for females. The "campers" were mostly first time offenders and usually in the 18-20 age range. If you finished the two weeks, then your record was wiped clean. Or, you could quit at any time and just serve out your sentence.

The first of the letters was written shortly after the girl had arrived in camp. (I took the liberty to do some reader friendly editing.)


Hi Sis, I"m writing like you asked. They give us an hour at night to read and write. But I don't think they want us writing the truth, like I plan to do. So I found a little hiding place for this, but I'm still nervous. Anyways here goes. Oh, thanks for dropping me off. At least YOU were there for me. Wendy showed up a couple of minutes after you left. Can you believe it? She is still with that creep, Billy. I mean it was his stupid idea that got us into this mess in the first place. Anyways, Wendy joined me on the bus, and I had to fake a smile, as this wasn't the time to tell her how I really felt.

The bus slowly filled with women, most of whom looked like trouble -- and smelled like it, too. Then this pretty blonde walked onto the bus. She was dressed in a sexy red dress and red high heeled shoes. I almost laughed at how out of place she looked, while I also wondered what she did to get sent here.

Looking around, I counted twelve of us. The bus ride was long and quiet, with no talking, of course. I guess we were all thinking about just what was in store for us. The pretty blonde, meanwhile, used the trip to make sure her makeup and hair was just perfect. I tell you sis, I wasn't looking forward to two weeks of people yelling and screaming at me. And two weeks of wearing those uniforms! I wondered if the blonde knew that for the next two weeks she would be wearing pink shorts and a small white T-shirt, instead of sexy dresses?

Finally the bus pulled up to the brick building. Our new home. We all walked up the front way single file, through the front door, down a corridor, and into what must have been the gym at one time (judging by the old basketball nets that were raised up to the ceiling). The sun was shining through some windows in the roof. It made the gym sweltering in no time.

Once inside, we were met by two guards, a male and a female, and they both started to bark out orders. We each had to find the plastic basket with our name on it. It was kind of chaotic, especially with all the yelling and screaming. I just knew it!

Finally we were all standing behind our baskets. We were in two rows of six, facing each other, a couple feet apart. I was kind of surprised (what were the odds) that Wendy was standing next to me, looking petrified. We were on the end of one line. Two guards were standing by the door we had came in through, and I noticed the back doors were chained shut. I felt trapped. Even though none of them carried guns, I was sure that their flashlights and nightsticks should be considered weapons, so they still had "power" behind their badges.

The two new guards were walking back and forth, snapping at us here and there about our stances -- hands by our sides, palms out, shoulders back, chest out, feet well apart. Basically they were doing a bad Louis Gossett Jr. impression from that Richard Gere movie that you're always watching. (Except they were white.)

I have to say, though, that they were pretty intimating, if only by their appearance. He was bald, shaved clean, with a few scars. Also, tall and really built, which he showed off in a white muscle shirt and tight black pants. Basically, he was mean looking.

She was also tall, had to be a six footer herself. She wore a tight white T-shirt tucked into her black pants. It showed that she was in shape. It also showed the outline of her nipples, which made me cringe, 'cause if I could see hers, then when we wore ours.... I didn't want to think about it! Her too-short black hair was wet or slicked back. When she got in my face, I was surprised to smell perfume, as I was starting to wonder about her sexual preference.

She stepped back and told us to drop our handbags into our baskets. My heart began to race, as I had a bad feeling.

"Ok, you six on this side," she said, as she looked our way. "Remove all of your clothing and put it in the basket."

Gasps and moans quickly followed the order. I couldn't believe my ears, even though that's what I thought she might say. I knew we were going to relinquish our personal belongings after arrival -- that was in the forms that I had to sign at the courthouse. But never, sis, did I dream it would happen like this. I was looking around, dumbfounded, for a moment, and I guess most of the other girls were, too.

"I said, 'STRIP'!" She snatched her nightstick off her belt. The bald guard also pulled out his weapon. It was like a whip that a jockey would use. It also reminded me that HE was there.

"In front of him?" One of the girls on the far end moaned out, seemingly for me, or all of us.

"What! you don't think I've seen a pair of tits before?" He hissed, as he raced over in front of her. He punctuated his question with a whack on her thigh from his whip. She cried out, probably more from shock, than pain. I noticed the girl next to me was already down to her panties. She slid them off too, and I gasped as I realized just how naked they wanted us.

"At least we have one camper that knows how to follow orders," the female guard said, standing in front of the naked girl. She slid over to me. "What the fuck is your problem, are you deaf?"

"No ma'am," I managed.

"Then why ain't you naked?" Her face was inches from mine. "You too, honey pants," she said, glancing over to Wendy. We shared a roll of the eyes, before I kicked off my shoes and started disrobing. I'd dressed simply, because I knew I would be taking them off in front of someone. (Of course not a gym full of people.) First my sweatshirt (I left my bra at home 'cause I knew from the forms, they weren't allowed inside, anyways), then my jeans. I had the bad luck of being down to my panties when the bald guard moved over in front of me. He didn't even hide the fact that he watched as I peeled them down. Maybe he didn't have to.

With all my clothes in the basket, I was standing buck naked along with 5 other girls. I was using my hands to cover my body, and the others were doing the same. The guards seemed amused at our timid postures. With a bark, they ordered us to assume the stances that we had learned a couple minutes earlier. I'll tell you, sis, this stance was not meant to be done naked. I've never felt so exposed.

I was left looking at the blonde, standing across from me. She wore a look of dread on her face. She had to know that her line would be next. Before that happened, though, the guards moved in front of the first girl in my line. The female fished her shoes out of her basket, and examined them, and told her to put them on, saying something about the cold floor, which was strange, because it wasn't at all cold.

After she put on her shoes, they read her name off the basket and asked her why she was here. The female guard then put a metal dog-tag, like soldiers wear, around the girl's neck. Then they ordered her to turn around and put her hands on her knees. The female guard, meanwhile, changed her nightstick for a flashlight. I was listening to the instructions, but I didn't want to watch anymore, because I knew I was in line for the same humiliating treatment.

The next order, "Spread your cheeks," caused some gasps. Out of the corner of my eye, I found out what the flashlight was for, before they moved on to the next girl. My heart was pounding, as they dealt with the girl next to me. And then it would be my turn!

"Stay strong!" I kept telling myself, as I didn't want to lose it, before they even got to me. I wasn't really surprised to learn that the girl next to me was in for prostitution. Maybe that's why she knew the drill -- and didn't seem to mind stripping in front of strangers.

They moved over in front of me. It felt like my face was on fire. She pulled my shoes out of the basket, and I was thankful that I'd worn simple, open toed shoes that I could just step into. As she looked for my tag, she asked me about my crime. I had no simple way of saying it, so I just told her the truth -- about us stealing Davenport High's mascot for our senior week prank.

"No shit!" she gushed, finding my tag. "I read that in the paper. Didn't the thing die on yah?"

I just nodded my head, still embarrassed about it. "Man, isn't life a bitch?" she teased, as she applied my tag. It was now my turn to turn around and face the light. I cursed myself for letting Eddie talk me into shaving down there now, because I knew when I pulled my cheeks apart.... Well, at least it sped up the process, but it was still the most humiliating thing I've ever had to do.

It was Wendy's turn next. I know you know how shy Wendy is. She had to be just dying. She always complained about the size of her breasts. I tried not to look, but I was burning with curiosity, since, as long as we'd been friends, I'd never seen her naked.

Well, she's right, sis. Her breasts are huge, and they're capped with big brown nipples. She even had to go through the extra step of holding her breasts up, by just the nipples, so they could check underneath them. I know I shouldn't have, but I felt a small twinge of delight come over me, when it was her turn to spread'em, because if she hadn't talked me into stealing that damn mascot....

Finally they were finished with our row, and we had to pick up our baskets and pass them through a window, to the other female guard. She was on the other side, in some sort of storage room. And when I returned to my spot, I felt even more naked now, without my basket.

With the six of us back in our lewd positions, the guards turned their attention to the other six women. I don't know what they must have felt, watching us go through our strip-search, but I was about to find out, as it was now our turn to do the watching. The male guard only seemed interested in the pretty blonde (which didn't really surprise me), as she slid off her sexy red dress. She wore a small red strapless bra and matching panties. She glanced up and gave him a dirty look, which pissed him off.

He slid really close to her. "You eye-balling me?" He hissed.

"No, sir," she managed, her voice cracking.

"You got a problem with me in here?"

"It just doesn't seem right, sir," she said, probably for all of us.

"You questioning me?"

"No, sir."

"Liar! Drop and give me twenty."

"But...I'm in my bra and panties," she complained, before the bald man's whip came smacking down on her ass. From the distinctive sound, I figured she must have worn a thong. She let out a yelp, before she assumed the push up position, and my assumption was confirmed. He made her count them off. She struggled to do ten. (The guard's foot on her back didn't help.)

"Get your ass up, and get your ass naked, and don't ever question me!"

So much for all that time on the makeup. Her mascara was already running down her cheeks, as her bra and panties made their way into the basket, leaving us all naked. I felt a twinge of envy, as I have to say that she had by far the best body here (and that includes me). But she still looked self-conscious. So there were a few girls who had to have been really mortified, to be in the shape they were in, and to be naked in a group setting like this. I owe coach Debbie a big hug.

We watched as each of them went through the same process we'd been through. Only the blonde had shaved herself like me. (So at least I wasn't the only one.) When asked, she said she was in for traffic violations. (Huh, she had to go through all this 'cause she couldn't drive?) After they deposited their baskets in storage and got back into line, I was wondering what could possibly be next.

The male guard pulled the blonde to the center, and then he told a tall redhead to stand behind her. He turned to our line and told me to stand behind the redhead. The prostitute was next, and then another, and then finally Wendy. He ordered the rest of the girls to take seats on the wooden bleachers and wait there. It was so totally weird, sis! It was like he had just put us in order of how we looked in the nude. It had to be more than a coincidence. (At least he picked me ahead of Wendy.)

The female guard stood in front of the blonde and told us to follow her. The male guard followed Wendy. (She had to just love that!) We were led back out of the gym and into a small locker room. It smelled awful. At the far end of the room was an open doorway. When I left the house this morning, it was the part I was dreading the most -- the showers.

She had us file in as she turned on the spray. The floor was dirty, so I kept my shoes on. I noticed the others did too. The water came from a pipe overhead and not from the wall. There were three heads where water came out of, with a soap-on-a-rope hanging from each one, so we had to share. Get this...I was now showering side by side with a real life prostitute. We even had to face the female officer, who was a little bolder than coach Debbie. She wasn't hiding the fact that she was watching our every move, while pacing back and forth just inside the shower area, reminding us that we weren't allowed to turn our backs on an officer. And the water was freezing -- or maybe it was that the gym had been so hot.

I don't know if the male was allowed in the shower area or not, but I noticed he was leaning against the doorway, smoking a cigarette. I guess we were his break-time entertainment, since we were still giving him an eye full. I bet Wendy wished she'd showered with the rest of the cheerleaders after practice now, because it was good experience for when we were called out of the showers and had to stand on some rubber mats and drip dry. The female guard only laughed when the blonde wisely asked for a towel. The question resulted in more pushups for Blondie, only this time without the bra and panties. She had to do twenty naked pushups on the mat. When she got up, her pretty pink nipples were all dirty, poor thing.

I don't even know why some of the girls were trying to hide their bodies at this point. Maybe it was the cold water. (I know my nipples were certainly standing erect.) Wendy was cowering in the back. (What a pussy!)

It was slowly coming to me that (even though this was the USA) they were doing what conquerors have done for centuries: strip their captives of their clothes and strip them of their pride. Well, I was already naked, but I was determined to keep my pride.

Little did I know that they were just getting started.

It was time to line up again. I was behind the redhead again. I found out her name was Felicia. It fit her. (A pretty name, for a pretty girl.) They made us line up so close that her wet hair was dripping onto my breasts and off my nipples.

Finally it was time to walk again. We went down the hall and into a small room that was probably used as a classroom at one time. We had to line up against the wall our right shoulder pressed to the wall. Looking around, all the chairs were pushed together into a pile in the back. Just a big wooden table stood in the center.

I suddenly heard a couple of girls, gasp. Looking to my left I saw why. There were windows that looked out onto the playing field and there was no curtains or blinds. It reminded me that I was still naked. Anyone walking by could see...everything. I didn't want to think about it.

The male guard pulled on a cord, and a big white sheet fell over the blackboard. The female guard pulled something from a closet and set it up -- a fucking camera, on a tripod. The redhead looked over her shoulder in disbelief. I shared her feelings.

The blonde went first of course. The male guard, who I'll call Baldie from now on, wrote her name and number on a little blackboard, while making a lame joke that some of us probably couldn't read or write. The blonde held the blackboard under her chin for the first shot, and then Baldie grabbed it away. Then the female took another front shot of her. Then a side shot, a back shot and then the other side.


They were going to be taking nude pictures of all of us, yet no one said a word. Watching the redhead go, I knew I was next. What could I say, sis? I really didn't want to pose for nude photos, but I didn't want to do nude pushups, either.

I was shaking when I shuffled my way up front. Then something happened that made me laugh. Baldie handed me the little blackboard, but he spelled my name wrong.

"Now, who can't write?" I said, and the girls all enjoyed a laugh. He got real red-faced and he changed it. After my photos, I was about to get back into line, but Baldie grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me over to the wooden table. Was he was mad! The veins in his forehead seemed to pulsate. He told me to reach over the table and grab the other side. At first I just looked at him like he was crazy. And then I thought maybe he was, so I got into position. It was a reach. My heels even came out of my shoes. Looking to my left, I saw that the photos had been put on hold. Some of the girls were watching, some not.

I knew what this position was for, but the first blow from his whip still startled me. (This also wasn't in the forms I filled out.) I tried not to make any noises, but it was hard, 'cause it stung like hell. This wasn't like one of mom's spankings. Blow after blow they came, until I finally screamed out. Thank god he stopped. I felt his hand resting on my ass. I snapped my head around. He just sneered, while he rubbed my sore ass cheek. As wrong as I felt about, it did help with the sting.

"Let that be a lesson to all of you," he hissed, as he pulled me off the table and pushed me towards the other girls. They finished up the photos as I tried to clear my eyes. Then all six of us were back against the wall. I was wondering what could possibly be next.

The female made a phone call, from this red phone on the wall. I couldn't hear her, but I knew she wasn't ordering a pizza. A couple of minute of nervous anticipation, where interrupted by two men in white coats and two women in white dresses walking into the room. I was a little puzzled. I was thinking that they certainly looked like two doctors and nurses. But why were they here? This was a classroom after all. I also remembered the whole naked thing again.

"Ok ladies," the female guard said, getting our attention. She introduce the doctors and nurses -- but I was too nervous to remember their names. I'm like most, I hate doctors. Also my first "big girl" exam was still fresh in my mind. "They're here to give you an exam, to make sure you're physically fit enough to take the two weeks here, and to document your health and appearance. Then after the two weeks, they will exam you again to document your condition, just to make sure that no harm has come to you in our care.... Like that would ever happen."

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bydeputy duffy© 3 comments/ 104470 views/ 9 favorites

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