It was the end of my sophomore year and the summer was about to begin. At first, I thought it would be like all the others that came before, but I was wrong. My Uncle Bill had invited me down to spend the summer with him and his family. It was his idea that I should learn more about my roots in the Deep South. My mother, his sister had married and moved North long before I was born. I grew up in New York and I didn't know any other type of life. I was indifferent, but somewhat intrigued with the fact that my uncle was also going to give me a summer job. At fifteen, the prospect of earning money was definitely an incentive. So it was agreed, I would leave in a week and my adventure would begin.
My cousin Ted met me at the airport. He filled me in on what I was getting into while we drove back to the Camp. Apparently, Uncle Bill was the Warden of a correctional facility, and most of the family was employed there. The "Camp" as it was called, was once a huge plantation that the county had converted to a correctional facility. Things were different in the South. The camp not only housed the convicts, but the guards and their families in a separate area. The biggest house, more like a mansion, was where my uncle lived and my new home. Prisons were a lucrative business. Not only did the government subsidize the facility, but also the inmates were a cheap source of labor. Naturally the profits went right back to the family. I was reassured by Ted that although we will be in constant contact with the inmates, I would be safer there than on the streets of New York. Discipline was the key word, and punishment came swiftly and harshly. Every prisoner knew his place and I suddenly realized that I was part of the "ruling class". What a wonderful feeling came over me. I didn't really know why, but somehow I knew I was going to have a lot of fun this summer.
As we approached the Camp, I noticed about 20 inmates at the side of the road digging ditches with just two uniformed guards milling around. Most of the inmates were bare chested and their muscular torsos twisted under the sting of the leather strap that the two guards welded. I thought to myself, well corporal punishment certainly wasn't dead down here. Soon we entered the main gate, and I got my first glance at the Camp. On one side I noticed rows of barracks-like structures (inmate quarters). To the other side was a very different looking group of homes. They had white picket fences, and well kept gardens. Some even had children's swings and slides (guards and families). Then directly centered was the mansion, my home. It was magnificent. The pillars and balconies were all so grand. It was like stepped into a scene of Gone with the Wind. There must have been about fifty convicts in typical prison garb, blue denim shirts and pants. They all looked very dutiful going about cleaning and maintaining the well kept grounds. I did notice over to one side a set of stocks, like the ones they had in old Salem. I wondered if it was there just for display, or if it served a functional role in the camp's discipline. I would soon find out.
I stood outside the great house when my uncle and aunt came out to greet me. They were very friendly and welcomed me in. I was shown to my room by whom I guessed was an inmate. He was perhaps twenty something, about 5'10" 160 lbs. He was pleasant looking, with crisp blond hair and blue eyes. I noticed was how polite he was. He spoke softly and always followed each sentence with "Sir". What a kick, I thought. A grown man calling me "Sir". This was just the beginning; soon I would find out how much power I would really have.
Although this was suppose to be my summer job, it didn't seem like a job at all. I was issued a uniform like all the other guards, and my duties involved roaming around the camp helping the other guards keep the inmates in line. I wasn't given a firearm, but I did get my very own leather strap and a long cattle prod. This was standard issue and they both fit nicely on a utility belt that was part of the uniform. It was cool; I looked like a real guard only miniature. I couldn't wait for my first day on the job. The excitement didn't wait for the next day. As is the custom, after dinner all the prisoners were assembled in military formation on the grounds just outside the Big House. Soon the guards and most of their family members were also gathering on the other side. They were waiting for my uncle's arrival to begin the punishment of the errant inmates for their various offenses of the day. These offenses ranged from laziness and impudence to unknown ones submitted by any one of the guards or family members living in the compound. The later sounded very subjective, but hey, we were in the South.
Solemnly my uncle read off a list of the inmates to be punished. Most just bowed their heads and stepped forward, but some tried unsuccessfully to disclaim any wrong doing. Some of these big brawny men even began to cry quietly. Somehow I didn't too sorry for them. I was more interested in what their punishment was going to be. The prisoners singled out formed a line adjacent to the stocks, seven in all. Two guards approached the first one, and roughly pulled him toward the contraption. His shirt was ripped off before his arms and neck were fastened between the two wooden beams. Once secured, one of them reached around the immobile man and pulled his pants right off. I could have guessed what was to come next, but not before the guard kicked the man's legs, spreading them wide; thus further exposing the naked man. I couldn't help it but I was really fascinated by what was happening. The guard looked toward my uncle who yelled out Twenty! The guard was now swinging the thick leather strap that hung by the stocks. Whack! Whack! Whack!......The sound of the contact between the leather and the flesh of the inmate's ass echoed though out the camp. The only other detectable sound was coming from the man receiving the whipping. Everyone could tell he was trying not to make any noise, but apparently the pain was too much for him to handle. Within ten minutes it was almost over for him. The whipping was over, but not his humiliation. Traditionally, after a sentence of corporal punishment was carried out, the prisoner would have to stand on the other side of the stocks with is back to the congregated prisoners, still naked and forced to keep his hands on his head with his legs wide spread, as if to display is shame. One after another the remaining six men followed suit, until the last one joined the line of naked men standing spread-eagled showing off their glowing red buns. The general population was sent back to the barracks, but the seven punished men had to wait until my uncle gave the word that they could also return.
I awoke the next day and was ready for work at the crack of dawn. The prisoners were already dispatched to their various duties. I found Ted, and asked him if he need me for anything. He grinned, pointed over to one of the inmates who was struggling with the task of dragging some felled logs from the ground to a pickup truck for transport. He was a big hairy guy; probably 6'2" and over 200lbs, and all of it muscle. Those logs were even bigger, so he sure was sweating a lot. Ted leaned over and told me that being the new kid in town I had to let all of them know that I demanded respect. What better example, but to boss around one of the biggest and strongest prisoners around. I thought for a moment and I decided to see how the cattle prod worked. I slowly walked up behind the hunky inmate, and as he bent over to pick up the end of a log, I pressed the prod to his ass and let a zap of electricity flow right up his butt hole. He let out a howl, from the pain and the surprise, dropped the log and turned to face his attacker. I saw the anger in his eyes for just a split second, and he saw my uniform and his rage subsided to a quiet moan. He stood facing me, but he kept his head down and made sure we did not make eye contact. He was a well-seasoned inmate, and waited for his next order. "What's wrong with you, you big lump of _s_h_i_t_!" I shouted at him. "Can't you move any faster, asshole?" I continued trying to sound intimidating.
"Sorry sir, I'm doing the best I can, sir." He weakly mumbled, keeping his head bowed.
"Big guy like you, I think you're a slacker." I said, as I circled behind him. He stood still almost waiting for me to do something, so I did. I pulled out the prod and this time used it on his lower thigh. He screamed again, and fell to his knees. I walked around to face him, now that he was on his knees he was just a little shorter than I was.
"Please sir, I'm not a slacker. Please don't shock me again." He pleaded with his big fists clasped together in front of him. He looked pathetic, with his huge hairy chest heaving as he spoke. This time I raised the strap, and he cringed before me covering his head with his massive arms and hands. At this point Ted interrupted with a yell.
"Get up and get into position you piece of _s_h_i_t_!" Ted also gave the man a swift kick to ass as he was rising.
The big man immediately stood up and put his hands on his head and spread his legs wide, then froze in his steps careful not to move again. Ted winked at me, and asked if I would be so kind as to administer the man's punishment. I held out the strap and slowly draped it over his heavily muscled back and let it slide down until it reached his firm butt. I could see the cords of muscles bulging from his thighs under the thin cotton pants. He didn't dare move. He just tensed up more as he felt the leather resting on his right cheek. I wasn't ready to strike just yet. I now moved the strap to his inner thigh and slowly rubbed it higher until it stopped at his crotch. I gave it a light tap just to let his mind think of the possibilities before I moved the strap down the other inner thigh. He had already been stripped to the waist so I stepped back to get a good look at his magnificent physique. Stretched out like that really made him looks better.
"You know Ted, I think he's got too much padding down there." I said, looking at his pants. "Strip! Get them off, or I'll have them whipped off, boy!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, then I mused to myself how I used the term "boy" when I was the fifteen year old and my charge was probably twice my age. I must be in the South I smiled to myself. When I looked up again, my big hunk was naked and in the same position. The sun beat down on his tanned back, while the sweat trickled down his face. I was now positioned behind him when I started swinging the strap aimed at his ample butt. With each whack I sensed he wasn't feeling as much pain as he thought he would feel, but his humiliation was mounting. I didn't keep track of how many whacks I gave him. I just stopped when my arm got tired. Of course he remained in position until he was given permission to move. Finally, I said, "OK, get back to work asshole."
Surprisingly he turned toward me while he was putting on his pants, and quietly said,"Thank you sir, I'll try to do better." I just nodded, probably because I didn't expect such politeness. I looked at Ted, and he winked his approval of how I handled the situation. I decided to move on and do some exploring now that my job here was done.
To be continued......