Underperforming
I stood on the parade ground waiting as the Sergeant strode towards me.
"Your performance is shit recruit."
"Yes Sir."
"Do you know what we do with shit recruits?"
"No Sir."
"We give them shit jobs to do. Understand?"
"Yes Sir."
A truck pulled onto the parade ground and began to drive in our direction.
"Do you deserve a shit job recruit?"
I paused, not sure how to respond.
"Yes Sir," I said slightly more hesitantly.
"Is that a fucking question?"
"No Sir!"
"I do Sir!"
"Good. I'm glad we cleared that up. From where I'm standing you deserve the shittest job I can find."
"Yes Sir"
"We're handing you over to the Defence Science and Testing Laboratory for the next two days. You're gonna help test some equipment."
"Yes Sir."
"This technician will take charge of you now. You follow every order without question understood?"
"Yes Sir."
He looked past me to the truck and gave a nod. I remained stood to attention, focused on the Sergeant, I heard the door of the cab close behind me.
"He's all yours… try to bring him back in one piece."
I sat in silence alongside the technician. We'd been driving for over an hour. The Sergeant's words were revolving around in my head…. 'testing' and 'laboratory'… I knew I'd been underperforming… part of me wanted to be binned from basic training… but I didn't want it to be me giving up… let it be their decision to get rid of me… I never imagined there'd be other consequences for underperformance. What was ahead of me? Eventually curiosity and rising panic got the better of me.
"What did he mean 'testing'?"
The technician laughed.
"Nothing too bad! We don't test nerve gas on soldiers anymore if that's what you're worried about."
My eyes widened… That hadn't even occurred to me…
"Hey… don't worry. You'll be perfectly safe. I was going to brief you about the experiment when we arrived but I'll put you out of your misery now."
"Thanks Staff."
"We have been sent some CBRN equipment from Germany to test. It's heavier duty than current issue CBRN suits so better suited to situations of extreme contamination, but it's less cumbersome than full hazmat suits. We need to understand what reasonable wear time is for the soldier inside."
"Oh, that sounds straightforward. I did my CBRN training last week so I know how to put on the Ressie and gear properly."
"Yeah. You won't need that as the German equipment is slightly different, but I'll help you get into the equipment. You'll also need to wear some physiological monitoring and stimulation equipment underneath."
"Cool."
"Not really. You'll get rather warm I expect. That's the point of the experiment. Work out where heat exhaustion would set in."
The conversation stopped as we pulled up at the gatehouse and were waved through by a military policeman.
I stood in the loading bay next to the truck as the technician returned with a blue plastic crate.
"Normally we'd take you up to the lab for a properly controlled experiment in the temperature controlled exercise suite… but the request came through to make this as humiliating as possible so we've modified things slightly. First, I need you to undress fully and put on this EMS suit. I'll explain what that does later."
Obediently, I removed my uniform and stood naked in front of him. This was certainly humiliating. All around people had been working but now stopped watching what was going on. He handed me a nylon suit that was comprised of a waistcoat and shorts. I slipped into it, noticing large oval pads covering the inside of the suit. I quickly zipped it up, realising that it didn't do much to hide my embarrassment as my dick and ass were still uncovered. The outside of the suit was covered in straps which the technician pulled in pairs, tightening the suit around my arms, legs, chest and abs. Once the suit was secure, he plugged a cables from the waistcoat and shorts into a small box which slipped into a pocket on the suit.
He saw a look of horror on my face as I saw him take a tube of KY gel and a vacuum sealed packet from the crate.
"Next one is a bit more embarrassing," he said apologetically. "We need to keep a constant check on your core temperature so we need to fit you with a constant wear probe. Please touch your toes."
I bent forward, exposing my ass. I felt something cold be offered up to my ring and push gently against it.
"Ok? It's easier if you take a deep breath and then blow air out as hard as you can, like you were blowing out candles on a cake.
As the air whistled past my lips I felt him push hard and the plug slipped inside me.
"Fuck!" I yelped.
From the margins of the loading bay I heard laughter. When I was instructed to stand back up, I continued to looked at the floor so I couldn't see the faces of the onlookers. The technician plugged a wire, presumably attached to the probe, into the box that was attached to my suit.
"Great. That wasn't so hard. Comfortable?"
"Not really Staff."
"No. I guess not. Don't worry, your ass will relax around the probe and you won't notice it soon."
"I meant the people watching Staff."
"Well… let's get you into the Zodiak suit, then we can head off to the test site. Once you're inside, nobody will know it's you."
He withdrew an olive green bundle of butyl rubber and proceeded to help me into the bottom half of the suit. It was like a heavy pair of bib-and-brace waders with a skirt around the waist. The rubber was cold against the exposed skin of my legs, but as he pulled it up, covering my ass and dick, I realised the soft rubber felt great against my dick which as growing involuntarily at the stimulus. I looked down and thankfully it created no detectable bulge in the suit.
"This next bit is a little claustrophobic."
He wasn't lying, the German mask was much more rigid and uncomfortable than the soft rubber of the British respirator. Initially, he'd turned the smock inside out and when I slipped my head into the mask, I found myself plunged into darkness.
"We've realised you have to do this bit fairly quickly otherwise you'll suffocate," he said has he pulled the masks straps tight, then pushed my hands into the gloved sleeves of the smock. He tugged it down so the hood inverted and I could again see daylight and the loading bay through the small triangular eyepieces of the German mask.
He proceeded to pull straps and roll a bundle of butyl rubber around my waist to seal me into the suit. Then told me to get back in the cab whilst he collected the remote monitoring equipment. As I walked back round to the truck door I felt my semi hard cock rubbing against the inside with every step, being squeezed and massaged by the folds of butyl rubber as I climbed up into the cab. I looked down and saw that everyone had returned to their tasks and I was no longer an object of interest. I was starting to enjoy the experience now that I was hidden inside the suit.
I flexed my hands. The gloves were thick and soft, heavier than the ones I'd been issued for CBRN training. I reached down and grasped my now hard dick through the folds of suit and my mind drifted off to last week's drill. I started to imagine what it would feel like to wank wearing those CBRN gloves? The soft rubber would make it feel like someone else was doing it.
The click of the driver's door brought me back to reality and my hand fell away from my dick as the technician climbed back up into the cab.
We drove a long way back towards base. I started to worry that we'd arrive back with me dressed in this suit but the truck pulled off the road a few miles short and made its way down a farm track and pulled into a field near some farm buildings.
"First I need to monitor your breathing rate and base line temperature. Please go and stand over there next to the barn."
I made my way over to the barn and watched as the technician attached one end of a long hose to the respirator and the other end to a box attached to his laptop. I stood for 30 minutes.
"Great that's the baseline data. We've got the outdoor temperature, the temperature in your sit and your core body temperature. The German Army advise that 3 hours is about the maximum you can tolerate whilst doing moderate activity. We'd normally have you on a treadmill, but we were told you needed a shit job. So here we are."
He ordered me to walk around the side of the barn. There was a large pool of liquid manure. I obediently marched into the centre.
"Dive in."
"What?"
"Dive in. Cover yourself in shit. I want to see you swimming."
"No way!"
"That's an order."
I hesitated. The next attempted breath didn't come. I reached up to the hose and fumbled to try to unscrew it.
"You get air when you comply."
Panicking, I dived into the pool of manure and air rushed into the mask as I obediently began to swim. Sweat was pouring down my face inside the mask and I could feel the sweat against my arms and legs inside the suit. Eventually I was told to stop swimming and stand.
"That’s the breathing rate monitoring done. Unscrew the hose."
I grasped the hose but couldn’t grip the thread through the thick gloves, now lubricated with shit. When I finally managed to get the hose to come free the stench hit me with the first breath. Thankfully the technician threw a filter cartridge to me and I quickly screwed it onto the front of the mask.
He ordered me to march up and down the field. I felt warmer and warmer as I completed each lap. I stopped once he'd gathered enough monitoring data and stood, breathing heavily.
"You need to stay hydrated as you're in the suit for the next 24 hours," he said, tossing a canteen of water to me and explaining how to attach it to the German drinking tube system. I drained the canteen.
"I need a piss."
"Ok"
He continued to look down at the data on his laptop."
"Staff. I need a piss."
"Go for it. The Germans say there's plenty of capacity for 'operational necessities' in the suit."
"You're fucking kidding me?"
He didn't reply. I stood as long as I could before letting the warm piss flow into my left boot.
"What if I need a shit?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Can I get out of the suit for a shit?"
"That won't be necessary."
"What do you mean?"
"You don't actually have any choice about that. The plug in your ass is hollow. That isn't sweat that's running down the inside of the suit."
These guys certainly knew how to maximise the humiliation.
"Ok… Next exercise will knock things up a notch. We need you to work out a bit more strenuously and that's where the EMS suit comes in."
He led me over to the wall of a nearby barn and told me to stand on a pile of manure beneath an ominous looking conveyor.
He blew a whistle and the conveyor whirred into life. I guess I knew what was coming before it hit me, from inside the barn the contents of the milking parlour were being cleared. I fell to the ground as the first clods landed on me, quickly covering me.
The whistle blew again and I got back to my feet. The technician was laughing as he wiped the eyepieces clear.
"That all seems to be working fine. We can charge suit now and start the experiment."
All over my body I felt tingling in every muscle. The sensation ramped up and I stood rigid.
"Don't worry. The Electro Muscle Stimulation suit is on its warmup cycle. It will control your muscles for the next experiment. You just have to stand and do what the suit demands."
The program shifted to the next phase of short sharp relentless pulses which made every muscle twitch in unison. I fell to the floor and began to writhe around in the manure in time with the pulses from the suit's electrodes. He whistled and the conveyer started up again, raining shit on me. It was relentless. There was no way I could stand but I managed to roll over onto my front and relaxed a little as I let the pulses control my body. I realised it must look like I was fucking a pile of manure.
It felt great. Each pulse forced me to drive my hip deeper and deeper into the pile of warm shit. My dick was hard and the involuntary rubbing against the soft sweat lubricated interior of the suit became too much. Helpless I felt the wave of orgasm momentarily overcome the punishing artificial electric stimulus. Only briefly. Once I was spent, I resumed the rhythmic fucking for another two hours.
Finally the suit finished its punishment and I rolled on to my back. As I sat up, exhausted, I heard a familiar voice.
"This is what failure looks like. Wallowing in shit like this useless piece of shit. This is why every day you should jump out of your bunks ready to give a hundred and ten percent…"
For a second time I wiped the shit smeared lenses of the respirator to reveal the Sergeant balling at the other recruits. All assembled in their own CBRN kit watching me intently.
"Stand up Recruit!"
It took a moment for me to realise he'd turned his attention to me.
"Get to your fucking feet and stand to attention!"
Wearily, I stood and adopted the best pose I could in the heavy suit.
"Are you done with your experiments?"
"I've got good data. Thankyou for letting us use him."
"No… thank you for all the hard work you do to keep us safe… and today for your help in correcting poor discipline… If you have all the data you need. May I see how it works?"
The technician showed the Sergeant the control box.
"So… if I set it like this… how would that work?"
"It will be rather unpleasant, but the inbuild safety mechanisms will protect the test subject."
He ordered me to salute. As I did, he hit the key on the laptop and my body spasm, locked rigid. I couldn’t keep my balance and fell backwards into the pile of shit. The farmyard echoed with the bizarre sound of the recruits laughing into their respirators… valves hissing and clacking as they howled with laughter.
With the current released, got back to my feet.
The technician handed me another canteen of water to drink.
"Now fall into line," yelled the Sergeant when I had drained the canteen.
I trudged over to stand amongst the recruits. Each step was hard with the boots filled with sweat… and worse.
"You all must march the 5 miles back to base in full kit… in the kit you're wearing. Once you're there you will assemble on the parade ground. I want you to go to the barracks and bring down all of his kit, his bed, his locker… everything. Set it up for inspection. I want to see everything laid out identical to the barracks… to the inch. He can spend the night on the parade ground and if he's lucky. We'll get the fire kit out and hose him down.
As he spoke, I stood watching the sun set… basking in the glorious humiliation… I could get use to this.
Thanks rubbrstud94 for the pictures that inspired this story.
Written by Seddon.
I did not write this, but a friend of mine. Please do not publish outside of this blog. Thank you.