By Mister-X/Spartan

After the article appeared, I was inundated with requests for television interviews. I also got requests from a number of people who were into choking guys. One of the ones who was interested in choking me also said that he was an agent for sports figures, and figured that I would have gotten requests for television appearances, and would want an agent to represent me. I decided to contact him before contacting anyone else.

He turned out to be a big burly guy. He told me a number of things. He said that I should start dressing and acting the part of my persona when I make public appearances. That made sense. He said my persona was of a young, somewhat smart-alecky guy who liked to have my clothes be tight around my neck. He said further that on seeing me, he could see that I was also good-looking, which would be a plus in television appearances, and also had a slim body, which could be highlighted with my clothes.

Since I had been in a tight canvas straitjacket, he recommended getting canvas shirts custom-made which had a collar that went up to the top of my neck and was smaller than my normal neck size. When he said that, I told him that I wasn’t turned on by having something going up that high on my neck, that I was turned on by being choked. He replied that it didn’t matter, that my public persona was of someone who would wear clothes like that, and that is what the public expected.

He also said that I could be starting a fashion trend. And he said that with my good looks, guys nowadays were wearing black clothes. He thought that it would be great if I would wear black leather clothes with my shirt going high up under my chin, just as tight as he recommended for my canvas shirts, a tight black leather vest, black leather pants, and black leather boots. He said that the collar and cuffs should be polished to a high gloss, and should be rock hard.

I thought about that, and said that it would make me look like a biker or a gay guy. He replied that this was the coming fashion, that again, it would fit my public persona. He said that my normal white shirt and tie with suit coat wasn’t what my public persona was.

He gave me a lot to think about as he was choking me. But that play turned me on so much that I decided to take his advice and hire him. He decided it would be best if he moved in with me, at least while I was getting inundated with requests for television appearances.

I immediately started getting the clothes to match his advice. It took some time, but I soon had the clothes to match the image he said I projected. In the meantime, my story hadn’t gone away. In fact, it had been carried by stations overseas, and that caused even more requests. He was sorting everything out, and I was finally in position to start making appearances.

I still remember the first time I came out onstage. The audience was shocked and delighted. I got a roaring applause. The interviewer couldn’t help but talk about how I was dressed. Then the interview ensued, and I got to talk about my experience. I had brought along a similar canvas straitjacket, same small size, and everyone wanted me to be put into it. I hadn’t thought about that, and wasn’t prepared. For the next appearance, I had Bubba, my agent, come with me to do that part.

The newspapers and some of the news stations picked up on that interview. I was hot news. I soon learned that my life wasn’t going to be the same, as I was now a celebrity. Going into stores for shopping would create a ruckus as people would flock to me. I learned that I couldn’t go out in public dressed as a normal person, that I had to be dressed to meet my public persona. It was going to be difficult, but the money was starting to roll in, as were offers to do more investigative reporting.

I told Bubba to put the offers on hold while I was busy doing television appearances. He agreed that this would be best. He also was noticing that I was starting to stain my pants, and told me to start wearing a chastity device all the time when I was dressed in my tight clothes. I realized that these were turning me on, and being turned on in public was not necessarily a good thing. So I started wearing the chastity device. Bubba had gotten it for me, and after wearing it the first time, I didn’t like it. He told me that this was something I was going to have to do, and he locked it on me, keeping the key. I had no choice now. But I still didn’t like it.

The interviews continued. The second one in which Bubba put me into the straitjacket was an even bigger media issue than the first interview was. I was now more popular than ever. For the third one, I decided to take along the spiked cock sheath, a rag, and duct tape. At that one I demonstrated the straitjacket as well as the gag and what my cock was put into, showing the inside. This one surpassed the second television appearance.

Those items got to become a staple for my appearances. I now appeared on stage in the straitjacket, and Bubba would accompany me carrying the gag and cock sheath. Bubba was now doing a lot of the interviews, since for a good part of the time I would be gagged. When the interview would be over, I would still be gagged. Then I’d go backstage and dress into my black leathers, which became the clothes I was now known for. I was even given an endorsement fee from a company that made such clothes, and I would always be wearing their products, provided gratis to me. It boosted their sales.

I made a lot of appearances in other countries as well. I was hot stuff for about a year. Then the story had become yesterday’s news. Bubba had his athletes to work with, and moved out to take care of them during their busy season, leaving the key to my chastity. I still had the offers for more investigative stories, but I had accumulated enough wealth to afford to take some time off. I decided after that whirlwind of appearances to do just that, and think about what I wanted to do next.

Ceaucescu had been toppled by the Romanian people, and that country was starting to open up. I thought about that place that I’d spent so much time at. That’s when I got contacted by another television network that wanted to do a story about my returning to that facility to see again what I’d been put through. I did want to see it again, and surprisingly to me, I now kind of missed the treatment I’d been given, and thought I wouldn’t mind getting it again for a couple of days.

The television network had contacted that ‘scientist’ about their project, told him that I was willing to return, and got the green light from him and the facility. So I was now scheduled to return to Romania, this time as me. I started wondering what I would find after Ceaucescu’s overthrow, who that facility was now housing.

I was in a position to have nothing on my plate, other than possible investigative assignments which I’d told them I’d think about. In some of the interviews I had mentioned that I could be suddenly away on another assignment at any time, so my disappearing wouldn’t be considered unusual. I now owned my own house, and made arrangements with my bank to take care of my affairs while I was away, telling them I didn’t know how long I would be away. I had decided to take some time and tour Europe on my own after the Romania story was filmed. I even thought of seeing more of that country before I moved on. I was going to be doing my tour strictly by what appealed to me at the time.

When it came time, I joined the television crew and flew to Romania. I was a little concerned about the circumstances of my previous departure from Romania and had told the television people about that, but they said with Ceaucescu’s overthrow, that had changed. When we arrived at the airport I had no difficulty going through customs, and the television crew and I were taken to a nearby hotel to be put up. It wasn’t a 5-star by any means, but I figured for this country at this time, it was as good as they had.

I got a good night’s sleep, and the next day, we all went to that insane asylum. On the way, I was changed from the leathers I wore to being strapped into a similar straitjacket, with similar gag and ankle cuffs. They got a guard to play the part of the Romanian prison guard who did that. I was first cuffed, and then roughly had my clothes changed, just as I’d described before, all filmed. My arrival at the facility was filmed. I still remember going to reception the first time, and this time it wasn’t different. An actor played the part of the guard who had brought me in, and reported my name, giving the receptionist a folder with my details. He had been primed ahead of time, and said that I would be a perfect candidate for Stan. It was just like the first time.

I was taken down the hall to a room, and strapped to a bed, just as I’d been before. There was an assortment of others already strapped to beds in the room. I noticed on the way that the other rooms were empty, so I figured these were actors. It was re-enacted well.

Then that scientist came into the room, accompanied by two guards. I recognized all three from the first experience. They were the same guys. The scientist started reading charts as he’d done before, and when he saw mine, he turned to the guards and said “this one,” just as he’d done before. I wondered how much the television people were paying these guys.

I was unstrapped from the bed and pulled by the two guards over to the elevator. I saw the cameras rolling as I was taken down the hall. We waited as before for the elevator, and when it arrived, we all went in and down to the basement. Once open, we went down the hall, just like before. I was hearing periodic screams, just like before. The television people were very thorough in their re-enactment.

When we went into the room, there was that chair. It was as if no time had passed. I was placed in it, just like before, and my gag was removed. That scientist talked to me just as he’d done before, and I answered him, questioning him, just as I’d done before. It was eerie. I thought of, of all people, Yogi Berra, with his statement “this is like déjà vu, all over again.”

I was soon strapped to that chair, my neck strap undone, and the metal wire put around my neck and attached to that ‘clicking’ device. It started up, and the wire started being tightened. They had placed that spiked cock sheath on, and had removed my gag, and soon I was starting to scream in pain. The cameras just kept rolling. When it got to the point that my voice was cut off, the tightening stopped. The cameras could see that I was screaming from the pain, but no sound was coming out. They could also see my red face and hear my raspy breathing. The cameras started moving around the chair to get a closer look. I was certainly getting a realistic re-enactment.

When they had finished filming, I was asked “do you want the wire loosened?”

I thought, what a question. I nodded my head up and down.

After the wire was loosened, I found that I had my voice back. Another question. “Do you want to be freed from the chair?”

I thought about it, and said “no, I’d like to visit for a while with Stan, here.”

“Then if you don’t mind, we got all the film we wanted, so we’re going back to the hotel. When you’re done visiting, you can join us. I understand that you plan to continue touring around Europe, but we plan to fly back tomorrow morning to start getting this developed and get our documentary story ready to be aired. This has been one of the smoothest filmings we’ve ever had. It was a pleasure working with all of you. Good bye.”

After the film crew had left, I started visiting with Stan. My first question of him was, “how has the toppling of Ceaucescu affected your work?”

“I don’t have the bodies to experiment with anymore. I’ve only got one now.” He had moved behind my chair when he said that.

“One can still be a lot for a long experiment.”

The clicking was continuing during this time. Soon the pain from the cock sheath set in and I was screaming again. Just then the door opened, and the head of the film crew came in. Stan didn’t stop tightening the wire.

Over the backdrop of my screaming, he started to ask something, then said, “what’s going on?”

Stan smoothly replied, “he wanted to experience this one more time.”

By then the wire had gotten too tight, and my voice was cut off. I was still trying to scream, but making no noise. Stan had stopped the tightening.

The film crew guy looked at me kind of strangely, but accepted Stan’s statement. “I was wondering whether he was going to be coming back tonight to the hotel.”

Stan replied, “he wants to spend a couple of days here like this, then return to the hotel to get his belongings before starting his tour of Europe.”

The film crew guy just shook his head and said, “I realize he gets turned on by being choked, and he evidently enjoys this, even though it looks like he doesn’t, but he was willing to come back here and go through this again, so he must have missed it. I don’t understand everything that goes on in people’s minds, and this is one of the strangest ones I’ve come across. I suppose you have encountered some strange ones?”

“Yes, actually, this gentleman is the fourth such one that we’ve encountered. It’s not unheard of, but it is unusual. And you’re right, he is turned on by being choked, and craves it, though he will make it clear that he’s not enjoying it when it’s being done. To look at him you would think that he doesn’t want it, yet he asked me to do this to him. It’s strange, but then, I’m willing to help him get what he craves.”

“Yes, I see. Well, thanks again for everything. We’ll be leaving in the morning. Good bye, again.”

“Good bye.”

After he’d left, he told one of his guards to remind him to have someone pick up my belongings at the hotel in a couple of days, and schedule a rental car in my name, and to drive it somewhere where it won’t be found. Then he turned his attention to me.

“I was surprised to find that you were willing to come back here and be put through this again. You had to know that I wanted to finish my experiment. Yet you came here and put yourself back into my hands. As I’d told that fellow, you must crave the treatment I give you for you to do that. I, of course, appreciate your consideration in allowing me to finish this experiment. I will be continuing it as I’d done before. But this time, when you are able to talk, I will be putting the gag back into your mouth. That was where I realized I’d made my mistake the first time.

The article you wrote was very interesting. It added to my knowledge. It was the first time I’d been able to get information from the person who was being choked, as all the others, as you surmised, have since passed away. I shall endeavor to keep you alive as long as I can, so I will be careful to not overdue it with you. In the meantime, just sit back, relax, and enjoy the treatment you will be given. Your cock certainly is enjoying it.”

He left the room after saying that. I took stock of my situation. I had closed my affairs back home, telling people that it would not be unusual for me to disappear for months at a time, and telling my bank that I was going to be gone for an indefinite period of time. No one expects me to return. My agent is the closest person I have, and he is busy with other business matters, not paying any more attention to me because I’m no longer one of his active accounts. The film crew thinks I’m staying here for a couple of days after they’ve left, and plan to be gone for an indefinite period of time, gone to parts unknown. There is no one who could say where I will be. Stan is having his guy cover my tracks so that it would appear that I have left. This guy could move me to another location and tell people that I had left. I’m too well secured to be able to get out on my own. I realized it was too late to wonder what I’d done to myself.

Stan could account for my disappearance very easily. He’s probably already gotten a fake identification for me, just as easily as I’d gotten one when I came into this country. It looks like I’m going to be spending the rest of my life tightly encased in this canvas straitjacket with a metal wire tightly around the base of my neck, choking me.

***

A year has now passed. “You’ve now been in every room. You’ve looked at every place that exists in this facility. There is no place where he could be hidden. Will you now believe me when I say that he isn’t here?”

“I believe you that he isn’t here at this time. I know he was here before. You are the last person known to have seen him. You could easily have moved him someplace else. I find it interesting that the famous chair has also disappeared.”

“Do you want to look at every room in every building in the whole of Romania? What do I have to do to convince you that he isn’t here! He left here a couple of days later and went back to his hotel to gather his things and left. I don’t know where he is.”

“That is what people who didn’t see him have told me. But I still don’t believe you don’t know where he is. I won’t give up looking until I find him. We don’t just ignore famous people who disappear. Something has happened to him. I’m determined to find out what has happened.”

After the man left, Stan continued working on what this visit had interrupted him doing. But his mind wasn’t on it. He kept thinking about the man who he had put back into that chair here. And he thought about that man who was just here and the statement he made about never giving up looking until he found that man. He finally realized he couldn’t get any more work done. He looked at the time and realized that he should have left some time ago. He finally left the building, locking it behind him.

As he was driving away, he checked to make sure that he wasn’t being followed. He tried a couple of dodges to make sure. Then he started driving to that place where they moved that reporter to. When he got there, he opened the door with his key. There was no one else there. He went inside and started the process of opening the next door. It took three keys and the right combination. When the door was finally open he went inside and was met by the attendant. “How is our patient doing?”

“Same as usual.”

“Good. He went inside the next door, not needing a key to unlock this one. There I was strapped to the chair as usual. I was gagged, breathing normally, still tightly strapped in that straitjacket. Stan said, “It’s been a year. It’s time for the wire to be tightened.” I just nodded my head as best I could.

Stan went behind the chair and there was soon an audible ‘click.’ He went back in front, removed my gag and started making notes on his clipboard. I was obviously now in pain and was trying to scream, but no sound was coming out. I was again having trouble breathing, my face was getting red, and my eyes were starting to bug out. Stan continued making his notes, waiting until it was clear that I wouldn’t be having any insurmountable problems. He walked back outside to speak to the attendant.

“We may have to move him again. There are some Americans who have been here looking for him.”

“I’m sure we’ll find a place for him. This one seems pretty secure, though. How could they find him here?”

“I don’t know, but Americans can be pretty resourceful.”

After Stan had exited the last door and was about to get into his car, he was met by several people, including that American and a couple of Romanian policemen. Stan had just seen him pull a little device out of his car. “We would like to see what is inside that building that you just came out of.”

“By what authority do you have to see it? Your papers this morning just said I was to show you the insane asylum I’m responsible for.”

One of the others stepped up and said, “surely you recognize me, Stanislaus. I am ordering you to allow these gentlemen inside.”

Stan indeed recognized him, and realized he had no choice. He got his keys and started the process of opening the doors. Finally the whole group was inside the final room and could see me in the chair. Stan was in the back loosening the wire.

When it was loosened enough for me to start to get my voice back, Stan started speaking. “He wanted me to continue the experiment. He told me he wants to remain in this chair. He said that he had a taste of being a celebrity, and he didn’t like it. He said that the happiest he had been was when he was in this chair.”

The American said, “I don’t believe you. I want to hear him talk.”

“Very well.” Turning to me, he said, “your voice should be back now. Tell them what you told me.”

“He’s right. I don’t want to go back to that. I took some time and thought about what I enjoyed and what I didn’t. I realized that I wanted to come back here and be in that chair again, being choked. I had enough money to give to Stan to get him to cover for me so he could finish his experiment. I knew that if it became known that I was still alive here in this chair, that the media would want to come back here and film it. I’ve had it with them. All I want now is to be left alone.”

The American was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to say. It was Stan’s boss who said “c’mon, let’s leave these two alone. You got what you wanted, or at least you found him. You can’t take him back because he doesn’t want to go back. How you handle this is now your business. You don’t need me anymore.”

After they’d left, Stan started attaching me back the way I’d been before. While I still had my voice, I said “maybe you could also put something tight around the top of my neck as well. I found that I started getting turned on by that from those clothes my agent had me wear. I was thinking of something like a rope or chain noose, but I expect another metal wire would work, too.”

After Stan had finished setting me back up, he got his clipboard and started making more notes. He was as surprised as that American was at the change things had taken, and at this point he wasn’t surprised by anything I would request. He told me that his scientific experiment with me was certainly going in a different direction that the others had taken.

 

The End

Metal would like to thank the author, for this story!