The Marine who was a filmmaker by thadeusz

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As soon as I finished highschool, I wanted something else. I wanted something very masculine, very useful for my country, very attractive for girls. I must confess here that there was in my town an excellent Marine Corps recruiter and I swallowed everything he said about the Corps.

It was probably a weird idea since I was rather small and thin, but the recruiter took me with two other big and solid guys who graduated with me. We were rapidly shipped to Parris Island. I was just 18 and my name was Mark Ottias. I had never touched a rifle before, I had never made love before, I never drank a beer before but I was ready to die for a weapon and to believe the recruiter when he told us that all girls would run for us.

In fact I realized soon that the US Marines were not for me. I did not like my life as a US Marine. I ended my contract as a Lance Corporal, which is not much, but I had the possibility to get federal money to study in College. I still had an obligation with the reserves, but I really hoped that nobody would call such a bad recruit back to active duty. I won and did not have to go back. While I was in the Corps, I had to keep a very short haircut. As soon as I was out, I let my blond hair grow wildly and become very long.

I learned to become a filmmaker and I made some short films without great interest. That’s when I started to date a Russian refugee, a beautiful girl named Nathacha Pavlova.

When this story started, I was preparing a long film over prison life. I wanted more specifically to describe the life of an innocent guy who was nevertheless unjustly imprisoned. I had problems describing this guy's feelings about his situation but Nathacha helped me: she told me that I should try to be in this guy's situation by myself. So I bought shackles, handcuffs and chains. I decided to live provisionally in chains and without shoes. Nathacha helped me to chain myself and kept helping me by preparing food for her "prisoner".

We also made love this way and it was a marvelous feeling for me to make love while shackled.

The next day, I wanted to take a long shower with my best beloved but she considered that it was impossible because I was still chained. I had given the key to her, but she refused to give it back "for a stupid shower". She kept saying:
"Now you are my prisoner, shackled for ever and ever."
Nevermind, we spent an excellent time together: she was dressed as usual and I was in chains and without my shoes. She invented a new game: she started to spank me since I was a "bad guy" and deserved to be punished. It was great !

A few days later Natacha was reading one of her women's magazines when she told me that the situation could not be a satisfactory experience for me, as a filmmaker. She had several reasons for that: I was not really in prison, I was still at home making love with her when I was not writing something for my future movie. She told me:
"Mark, you should try to be really in a real prison."
"But, Natacha, I have not committed any crime. Do you want me to kill or steal in order to satisfy you?"
"Certainly not my love. Let me think."
That was the end of this conversation and I went back to writing my screenplay while she went back to reading and cooking for both of us. I was still shackled and enjoying this crazy situation.

About a week later, Natacha raised her head from her magazine and said:
"I just read that on a small island, lost in the Pacific Ocean, there is a Private Prison. This would be good for you.."
"Why ?" was my first question.
"You could go there and experience full time what it is to be a prisoner."
"My character is imprisoned for the wrong reasons. He has not done anything wrong, but his relatives want to get rid of him. Moreover, my guy is in an American prison where he is on hard labor because a Judge sentenced him to be there for a long period of time. I don’t want to remain in prison for a long period."
"Well, I just read that rich people go to that small island to get a rest for a short period. They are of course treated in a very special way, but when you will have been there you will really know what it means to be locked in a prison."
"Well, I’ll think about it. Now I would like to eat. Did you cook something good ?"

We had a delicious dinner. I was still wearing my shackles and I had no shoes. Natacha looked like a princess and … we went to bed where, once again, we made love despite my shackles.
The next day, Natacha insisted that I should at least try to go and stay for a short period in this private prison. Finally I agreed. We booked a trip to the island and I also booked a one week stay in this private prison.

When we arrived there, the Director of the prison asked us first:
"Who is going to be the prisoner ?"
I replied honestly that I would be the prisoner, explaining why. Natacha added that we also wanted the possibility for me to send her videos, while I was in this prison. She had a great idea:
"I will post these videos of Mark and make them available for money: this will be our way to gather the money we need to pay for the prison."
The director replied saying that he agreed provided his private prison was paid. A contract was established for a period of four weeks, thus more than foreseen but enough for me to learn what prison life actually was. In this contract I gave Natacha full authority for the way in which I should be treated during my time in prison.

Immediately after I signed this precious document I was taken by two guards inside the main part of the prison. These guards were solid men wearing a very strict and elegant uniform. These guards took me to a tiny room looking like a cell. One of the walls of this cell was provided with a tiny opening placed very close to the ceiling. This opening was blocked by three thick iron bars placed vertically, close to one another, and thus blocking my view of the outside. There, the first thing the guards did astonished me: they took all my shackles and chains away. Then they ripped my clothes from me and they left me alone sitting on a small stool. One of the guards, who seemed to be chief guard, finally said:
"Don’t move before we come back, this is prison life."
I was now naked and relatively cold despite the nice weather of this island. The guards had taken all my things, my watch included.
I remained seated on that chair, not knowing what else I could do.

After a certain time, the same two guards came back. The guard who seemed to be the chief said:
"Prisoner, how do you feel ?"
"Cold", was my one word reply. The same guard hit me on the mouth and said:
"First, nobody asked you to describe the weather but only to tell us whether you are ready or not. Second, and more important, you are only a filthy prisoner and you must start and end your reply by ‘Chief guard’. Understood ?"
"Chief guard, YES, Chief guard", was my first attempt to adapt to my new and voluntary situation. I had started to use some of my old habits from my US Marine Corps time. That’s the first time I noticed that the Chief guard had two yellow stripes on his black uniform. The other Guard had only one yellow stripe.

The Chief Guard continued:
"We are now going to give you the necessary uniform. But you must also undergo some changes."
He made a sign and the other Guard started to place heavy metallic rings on my ankles and on my wrists. Meanwhile, the Chief Guard was placing a similar, but bigger, ring on my neck. All these rings were provided with something enabling the Guards to attach something else to them. They started immediately by fixing a short but solid chain linking my legs. I was now solidly shackled !

They continued by placing another solid chain on my belt and by fixing chains linking my wrists to this belt. Finally, the chain linking my ankles was also provided with another chain linking it to my belt. The Chief Guard could then say:
"You are now completely shackled, prisoner. In this prison, your number is P.106.754 and this is your only name here. UNDERSTOOD prisoner ?"
Hearing that, I shouted: "Chief Guard, YES, Chief Guard". It was my only reply.

I was still naked but they were not done with me. The Chief Guard gave a sharp order to the other Guard:
"Start the transformation NOW and be energetic and fast, this prisoner does not deserve better."
The plain Guard took clippers from a bag he had with him and put them on. I stood up and protested by saying:
"Cutting my hair is not part of my contract."
The Chief Guard hit me brutally and replied:
"Prisoner P.106.754, you are here to obey ALL MY ORDERS. And MY ORDERS are to shave you now and keep you shaved as long as you are in this prison."

I must now confess that I had a long blond mane and that I was very proud of it. Natacha knew all about my love for my mane and she could not have accepted these guards cutting it. I protested energetically, I even shouted but all that the Chief Guard said was:
"Guard, place this prisoner in restraints while I hold him."
The plain Guard went and got leather belts which he used to attach me to the chair. He then gagged me, placing a solid gag over my mouth and fixing it with small leather belts. He then started to shave my beautiful mane. This did not take him much time: he passed his clippers rapidly and brutally from front to nape in the center. He then started to turn my head, without asking me if it did not hurt. He kept going from top to bottom of my head on the left side and later on the right side. When he was done, I thought that it was over but the Chief Guard shouted:
"Beard and mustache must also go."
I tried to complain despite my gag:
"My beard and my mustache are part of my personality. You cannot take them off !"
Despite that, in a few minutes the Guard was completely done and I was completely bald.

The Guard took the gag away and undid the leather belt which kept me seated on this stupid chair. I started to feel that Natacha’s idea was really not a perfect one.

The Chief Guard looked at me, shaved, chained and without any clothes. He decided:
"You tried to resist the basic haircut. For that I give you 3 days naked in this cell without furniture. You also forgot to start and end your sentences with ‘Chief Guard’ when you speak to me. For that I give you 4 additional days in this cell, still naked. Moreover, you deserve and will get 6 lashes given by the Director with his whip handle."

I was still naked, but I was brought in that attire to another room where there was a long horizontal and adjustable bar. The Director appeared from nowhere and told the Guards to adjust the height of the bar to my size. He told them then to fix my wrist rings to this bar. This seemed to be routine for the two guards who did it rapidly and swiftly.

The Director proceeded then to the execution of the sentence, and it hurt a lot but … it was nevertheless bearable. When that was done, the Director instructed the guards to bring me back to the little room where I had to stay for 7 days without clothes … and without any furniture: the chair disappeared. I now realized that Natacha’s idea was a very bad one, even an awfully bad idea and that I had no way to warn her. In any case, she was the only person who could get me out of this pseudo prison since I had given her, by contract, "full authority on the way people would treat me" while I was in that prison. She was responsible for me !

I was thus brought back to the first little cell where I was attached to the walls. In order to do that my two tormentors used a chain fixed to my chain belt on one side and to the wall on the other side. The place was not dreadfully cold, but I missed my clothes. Luckily, the weather on this island was never very cold. In this cell, I had an accessible bucket and food was brought in it every morning and every evening. The guard who brought that in my cell kept silent.

After this period of 7 days, the Chief Guard came back with a stool. The ordinary Guard detached my chain from the wall while the Chief Guard told me to sit on this stool. I obeyed, knowing now what could happen if I disobeyed his orders. The Chief Guard instructed his lower ranking companion to shave again my head (which did not need it) and my face (which really needed a good face shave). This job was accomplished exactly as it had been done the first time, very brutally. It was worse than in Bootcamp. It lasted only a few minutes. I did not like it, but I really had no choice.

The Chief Guard warned me:
"This shaving process will be energetically repeated every week since our prisoners must remain perfectly clean."

The Chief Guard added then:
"It is time you get dressed."
The plain guard brought two pieces of clothes: trousers and a vest without any button, a vest you simply had to pass above your head. The Chief showed me how I could put on these clothes despite the presence of the shackles and the handcuffs. It was not easy, but since I could leave a piece of cloth between my leg ring and my ankle, the situation was bearable. There was no problem with the vest which had short sleeves and a big opening for the head.

The only problem was associated with the belt chain: I had to slip a bit of fabric between my body and my prison uniform. By the way, there were no undies. The uniform was made in a sort of fabric similar to that used for jeans. It was very thin but also very solid. It was provided with blue and white stripes, horizontal for the vest and vertical for the pants. In the back and front of my vest, my prison number was painted: P.106.754. All together, it was not comfortable but I could live with it.

Dressed like that, and with my chains linking now my ankles and my wrists to the belt chain, I was led slowly to my permanent cell. I could not go fast because the ankle chain was too short ! Once in my permanent cell, the Chief Guard showed me a tiny bed without cover without making any comment. He also showed a small basin near the barred opening in one of the walls and next to that a bucket saying: "For your necessities, Prisoner." The cell had also been provided with a video camera and a mike fixed to the top of the wall, opposite the so-called bed. The worst of it was the fact that this cell had no real door, only a solid grid similar to the window grid, except that it was much larger and provided with a small opening in the center.

He also explained the time table:
"You will be woken up at 5am and get ready for 5:15. You will then wait near the small opening, standing near the opening placed in your cell grid. This will be opened soon after that and you will get your morning meal: you have 15 minutes to eat it and to clean the metallic plate. After that, you must stand near this small opening in order to give the plate back to your warden. This person might order you to present your arms in order to attach your wrists more closely for a special visit. If this is not the case, the grid will be opened and you will wait in full shackle till you get another order. This will be your working day order."

The Chief Guard looked further at me and said:
"Every day, you will have 15 minutes to make a report to your girlfriend and then 60 minutes to make a speech for your public. This will be videotaped using the camera attached to the wall. It has been agreed that your girlfriend can edit these video tapes and post them as she finds best to let people pay for viewing them. You will not receive comments as long as you are in this prison."

He ended his long speech by:
"And now, rest on your bed. Tomorrow will soon be there."

This evening, I did not receive any meal but I slept well on the plank serving as a bed and a mattress.
The next day, I could start my video work. I left Natacha to select and post what she considered the best parts of my narrative. But that took me only 1 hour and 15 minutes. The rest of my day was devoted to chores: cleaning chores, kitchen chores, and many others. In the evening I was exhausted and I was grateful when they locked me in my little cell with a dish I had prepared.

This lasted several weeks, even several months. Natacha kept telling me that many people had taken a subscription, that my videos were a "hit" and that lots of money was coming in. Therefore, she decided to extend my stay in this prison. Instead of my 4 weeks stay, I was told by the Chief Guard that Natacha had now signed to keep me 6 months in jail. I hated that situation, but the Chief Guard started to laugh and said laughingly:
"You had confidence in that lady and you gave her full power over your person. Well, she is using it."

At the end of my second month in jail, I asked Natache to release me but she refused saying:
"It pays too much to keep you in prison and videotape your reports."
I did not mind too much: I had started getting used to being a prisoner in this strict prison.

After 6 months in prison, I was told that I had to follow the Chief Guard to the Director’s office. I thought that this man wanted to announce to me that I was going to be freed of all my chains. But that was not the case. The Director told me something totally different:
"Prisoner P.106.754, your trusted person has extended your stay with us by 6 more months. She also asked that you be placed in the ‘hard labor’ section. As of tomorrow, you will thus be in a cell with 3 other prisoners, without any privilege, and your tasks will consist of hard labor, like cutting trees or moving cut trees, or other similar tasks."
"But Director, that was not in my initial contract, Director."
I had not forgotten the rule about starting and ending my replies with the person’s rank !
"Prisoner P.106.754, your trusted person has decided and you must obey."
I forgot my previous attitude and replied:
"But that has nothing to do with my contract. I want to get out of here. Now."
The Director simply said:
"10 of the cane on his bottom and the same on his feet."

The Chief Guard took me away by force, leading me with a chain attached to my collar ring. He brought me back to the initial punishment room and administered the first part of the beating. The plain Guard and the Chief Guard forced me then to lie down on a short plank, my feet being protruding. The plain Guard used leather straps to fix my neck, my body and my feet to the plank and the Chief Guard executed the sentence. The second punishment since I was taken as a prisoner.

Do I need to say here that the brutal shaving has been repeated every week ?

That’s when I started to make stupid reports, hoping that if nobody was interested, Natacha would be forced to free me in order to avoid paying the prison fees. Nevertheless, I was placed in another cell and I had a new type of work to accomplish: breaking rocks in order to make a new road. I still had my 75 minutes of privacy every day to speak with Natacha, but that was no longer as funny as it had been. Anyway, when I asked my best beloved why she had extended my stay in this dreadful prison, she simply said:
"To let you know all aspects of prison life, my best beloved."

Six months exactly after I was sent to hard labor, I was called to the Director's Office. This powerful man told me that Natacha had stopped paying the prison because nobody was paying to see my videos anymore. He then added:
"Your person of trust, Natacha, has decided to sell you as a slave to cover the remaining debts."
"But Director, there are no slaves anymore."
"On this island well, prisoner P.106.754. And your person of trust, according to your own signature, has the right to sell you as a slave. This will be done tomorrow morning or the day after."

I was brought back to my original and lonely little cell by the Chief Guard and I asked him, very politely:
"Chief Guard, what does it mean to be sold as a slave, Chief Guard ?"
"Well, you will have to work for nothing in a place which will probably not be very comfortable, and all that for life. At least, during your stay here you learned to be polite and to respect your guards."
He then pushed me in my cell simply saying:
"Good luck, future slave."

It goes without saying that I did not eat my grub that evening. I fell on my plank and started to wonder what "slave" could mean on this lost island. I dreamed of lost opportunities to be free in my own country and finally, I fell asleep on that plank I had hated so much because it was so hard. As usual, I had slept in my prisoner’s uniform.

The next morning, I woke up at 5:00 as usual. I did everything I usually did in the morning, hoping that this slave business was only a joke. The usual Guard came to my grid and told me:
"Open your little gate, today you don’t receive food via a big open gate."
"Guard, am I really going to become a slave, Guard ?"
"That’s what the Director told you, isn't it ?"
"Guard, YES Guard. But what does it mean Guard ?"
"At a certain moment, we are going to extract you from your cell. We will prepare you for your future Master and you will be transferred to him in full property."
"Guard, will that be forever ?"
"My boy, there you forgot the final ‘Guard’. I should refuse to answer as a punishment, but you are anxious so I will tell you the truth. Your Master will own you in full until you die, or until his heirs die."
"Guard, please, what can he do with me, Guard ?"
I had carefully placed the final Guard in that question, but I was in panic.
"Your Master will do whatever he wants. If he is good, you will be well treated. Otherwise, you will work very hard for nearly no food. He can even decide to kill you if you don’t work well. Now, Boy, that’s enough."
It was the second time he called me "Boy" despite the fact that I was older than him. That made me shudder.

A few hours later, I don’t know exactly since I had no watch, both guards came to my cell. They extracted me from that place I had started to get used to and they took me to the original cell where I had received my prison uniform.

They took that uniform away, leaving all the chains. The Chief Guard told the other Guard:
"Clean him completely"
The Plain Guard started to use a special product I had not seen before. He placed it all over my body, head and feet included. He insisted on my penis which made me feel weird. He then used a hand shower to get rid of that product … and all my hair disappeared with it. I was now completely naked and one could only see my bare skin. That’s when the Chief Guard made his major comment:
"You have been cleaned of everything that could bother you. There will be no need to go to the hairdresser anymore, my Boy. We are now going to take away what you don’t need anymore, your access to your testicles."
"But, Chief Guard, I want to keep that and remain a real man, Chief Guard."
"My Boy, you are a slave now and Slaves are not real men. They don’t need testicles. You will simply undergo a vasectomy in order to be unable to contaminate the female slaves or even the ladies living with your future Master."
The Chief Guard made a sign and the other Guard pushed me on a bed I had not seen. He attached me again with leather bands … and proceeded to the simple but efficient operation he had mentioned.

When he was done, I was still a MAN but I could no longer have children.

The two guards left me alone during the rest of the day. I remained on the bed which had been used for the operation and noticed that the grid of that cell was completely closed. I remained alone and naked. I must confess that I cried, more for the loss of my masculinity than for the chains which were now directly on my body.

The Guards left me there, naked, for the whole night. The next morning, I received some food and I was so hungry that I voraciously ate all of it. The guards gave me a new uniform, a slave uniform. It consisted (and still consists) of a one piece red uniform which is more difficult to shove between the rings and my skin. Luckily, I had lost weight during my time as a prisoner. I was now wearing red dungarees with fixed braces and a sort of protection or apron in front, but nothing in the back (except the braces). These dungarees had a number on it, my new "slave name": S.754. The Chief Guard told me, kindly:
"S.754 is your provisional slave name. Your master might decide to keep it or to change it. You will meet him in a few moments. You were a good prisoner, let's hope that you will be a good slave."

They left me alone in this cell, which had been mine when I arrived in this prison. I grew accustomed to that cell and I wondered what I would find in the future. But suddenly, I remembered that I was still a human being and that I had to behave like that. I prepared myself for my first meeting with the guy I had now to consider as "MY MASTER"

When the Guards came to fetch me and introduce me to my Master, I was ready to accept my fate with dignity.

The guards took me, marching slowly because of my chains and nearly kindly, to a parlor where they presented me to my owner. The Chief Guard wanted to say something, but I interrupted him and said:
"MASTER, this is Slave S.754 at your command, MASTER," and I saluted my new Master as I had learned to do it in the Marine Corps.
My master looked at me with some interest and asked:
"Slave, ever been in the military ?"
"Master, YES, Master. This Slave was a Lance Corporal in the US Marine Corps."
"Excellent. Your new name will thus be LCPL and that will be tattooed on the back of your head, on your front, on your right shoulder and on your left buttock. Chief Guard, I accept this guy as a slave."

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