An 18yo who is hiding out to avoid his compulsory military service in an Eastern European country is sold out by his neighbor and apprehended by two police officers who are intent on teaching him a lesson. A HOT new FOOT TORTURE series by new author Kris!
Roman's Harsh Recruitment to the Private Army - Chapter 1
by Kris (2)
Art by Blacksmith. Visit his Tumblr Page or Download his Book.
Chapter 1: Apprehended by the Police
Roman was awakened by heavy banging at the door:
“Police! Open up!”
He wasn’t surprised. He had been a fugitive for quite some time. His only crime was concealing himself since he had turned eighteen years old about five months ago to avoid the universal conscription.
Roman didn’t like this idea of spending eighteen months of his youthful life in semi-prison conditions in the first place. He wasn’t exactly the kind of a fellow who fancies following orders. Besides, he’d heard numerous tales about poor quality of the food and bad housing conditions from his less lucky friends who at some point decided to give up and arrived voluntarily to the army recruitment center. The worst parts in their stories were the rough gang environment and brutal hazing rituals in the barracks during the unsupervised night time. Although Roman was an athletic guy with wide shoulders and 6’3 and 200lbs muscular body, that would make a very little difference in confrontation with the gang of angry senior soldiers.
Roman’s home country at the outskirts of Eastern Europe couldn’t be called a developed nation. A couple of years ago people in some of the regions rebelled against the central government, so the government decided to deal with this problem the good old way by using the army. Roman always preferred to stay out of politics; being killed for some else’s ideals definitely wasn’t his plan. But now the universal army draft was the only way for the government officials to satisfy the dire need for the new recruits.
For some time now Roman had been living in the apartment of his distant relative. He didn’t notify the authorities of his move. However, this trick only worked for a short time. The police, being pressed by severe shortage of draftees, implemented new tactics working directly with the “local informants”. Apparently, this new policy worked very well: Roman had been sold out by one of his new neighbors.
All these thoughts flashed through Roman’s mind like a lightning strike. Yet, he was not ready to give up his days of freedom so easily. The past months of his clandestine life prepared Roman for every surprise. He jumped off the bed in an instant, quickly put on his clothes and grabbed his emergency backpack. Fortunately, the apartment had a backdoor, a feature that Roman knew would serve him well in such a dreadful circumstance.
The hidden escape route seemed to work pretty well and Roman managed to pass by the police guarding the building without getting noticed. His intense cardio training at the gym paid Roman back in full as he raced like a wind down the street toward the city center. He considered grocery stores, shopping malls, theaters and other crowded places as a good hiding site. But suddenly...
“Damn it!” He was distressed to see a police patrol at the end of the street cutting him from his destination.
It didn’t take long to be hailed.
“Freeze! Don’t move!“
Unfortunately for Roman, he was trapped in the old-town street with the side walls that offered no exit. His only chance was to turn back. This chance, however, quickly departed as the other police patrol emerged from the opposite end of the street.
His fight was futile. Two policemen quickly seized Roman in their firm grip, twisting his arms behind his back. Both Sergeants seemed to be in the mid-twenties. They were breathing heavily, and apparently they were pissed from chasing Roman a good mile. For a moment, they flashed their name tags identifying the men as Tim and Rick. Tim pulled out a radio and reported to his superior:
“We got him, Sir!”
Roman felt a chill course down his spine as he sensed a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. It was his first time to be apprehended by the police. And he had a gut feeling that it wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience.
Roman was escorted by the Sergeants down some alleys until they approached a lonely police wagon with the tinted windows. Roman was unceremoniously pushed inside. His eyes needed some time to adapt to the dark, gloominess inside. Roman could see that the only fitments inside were two rows of seats along the walls and what looked like a toolbox in the corner.
“Kneel on the seat here!” Tim pointed with his rubber truncheon.
Roman was confused, but he didn’t dare to disobey. He kneeled on the seat. His face and chest were against the wall and his feet were hanging off the edge of the seat. Roman noticed a strap that was attached to the wall about a foot high over the seat. Officer Rick didn’t waste any time, he pulled the strap behind Roman’s upper legs pressing them firmly against the wall. As Roman’s hands were still cuffed behind his back, he was rendered practically helpless. He tried to protest.
“What the hell! That’s a strange way to transport a detainee.”
“Negative! This is for your attitude adjustment. You need to learn not to run from the police” Tim didn’t even try to hide the smirk on his face.
Roman didn’t like where this was heading. “What the hell is he talking about? What lesson?” He promptly got his answer as his sneakers and socks were quickly pulled off.
“Look what we got here! Must be at least size twelve,” Tim addressed to Rick.
“Thirteen, actually,” said Rick, reading the tag underneath the tongue of Roman’s sneaker.
“No wonder boy is a fast runner. It will be a pleasure to work on these dogs.”
“Let’s be sure he won’t wiggle those flippers!” Rick lashed Roman’s ankles together then he used a piece of cord to tie round Roman’s big toes, preventing his feet from separating. Rick pulled the end of the cord and tied it to the hook under the seat, painfully stretching back Roman’s big toes.
Now both naked soles were completely exposed and immobile; there was nothing Roman could do to protect them. Rick tested his rope work by digging his fingers into the soles of Roman’s bare feet. Roman involuntary jerked but could barely move his feet. Rick nodded to Tim with satisfaction. As they knew exactly what they were doing, Roman figured this routine must have been common for them.
Tim opened the toolbox and looked inside selecting his weapon of choice:
“Oh, yeah! This should inhibit his running habit at least for a while.”
Roman turned his head to have a closer look. Tim was brandishing a foot long hard-leather whip split in two thin tails. Soon a similar tool appeared in Rick’s hand as well. Roman felt a second wave of chills through his spine as he realized that his bare soles would be the targets of these devilish implements. He heard rumors of rough treatments of detainees in police custody, but he wasn’t prepared for this. He had never been whipped before in his life.
“Please, you don’t have to do this!” Roman tried desperately to escape the inevitable.
“Oh, but we must! You see, your soles are much too soft. You’ll need toughen those soles to survive in the army. We’ll start toughening you up right now. You will thank us later.” Tim and Rick both laughed.
Roman wondered what made them so cruel. They were only a few years older than him.
Tim finally swung his arm. Roman heard an ominous “SWISH” and then “SMACK”. He then felt the cold touch of a whip on his naked soles. In an instant, a jolt of stinging and burning pain exploded from his heels up to his legs. Roman convulsed in his tight bonds and clenched his teeth. Yet, he didn’t get much time to process this pain as a second the cruel whip landed on his heels again. This time it was Rick who lashed his bare heels with full force.
Tim and Rick continued to take turns beating the soles of his feet with the rhythm of a vicious metronome. They didn’t stop until twelve hard blows were delivered to poor Roman’s heels. Roman could barely catch his breath when they finally decided to take a break.
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