Interrogation Game: Chapter 2 – The Code

By BondageChallengeGames

The nipple clamps stayed on as he flogged my chest. Each smack caused me to instinctively thrash, which jostled the clamps and only made the pain on my nipples worse.

I tugged at my bonds, but the leather cuffs were sturdy and the padlocks were inescapable without a key. I focused my energy on trying to hold still when he flogged me, to ease the pain of my clamps. But that just made him hit me harder, and no matter how still I held the dull pain on my nipples grew and grew.

I kept my composure, never giving more than a grunt or wince. I was in pain, but nothing more than I could handle. Honestly I was still enjoying it. I’d volunteered for this after all. My dick was hard as a rock.

“What’s the code?”

I was almost let down. Andrew would have to do better than that. I spit at his face.

Immediately he ripped my nipple clamps off, the sharp pain made me yell and drop until my body weight was held up by the cuffs on my wrists. I stood up, breathing heavily.

No sooner had I steadied myself before he jabbed his fingers into my exposed sides. He tickled me mercilessly. I thrashed around, straining my arms and legs, desperately trying to avoid his fingers for a millisecond of peace. I am incredibly ticklish, Andrew knows this, and more than most other tortures the thought of enduring this for an hour scared me. He tickled my pits, my sides, and my inner thighs. I was howling. Normally when he tickles me there’s pauses, moments for me to catch my breath. But in this game the only pause I would get would be from telling him the code.

I begged him to stop.

“What’s the code?”

“Fine, fine!” I caught my breath as he pulled away, giving me a chance to breathe. I took a few seconds before continuing.


I heard him walk away, silence for a few seconds and then, “You son of a bitch.”

I’d given the wrong code. I had no intention of giving up this early. A fake code would give me a nice break, and also hopefully encourage him to use other forms of torture. I knew there was more sadism in him, and pissing him off might help me see that.

Without warning I was hit with a blast of cold water. I yelled involuntarily with the surprise jet of from the hose. I tried to wiggle away, but he sprayed my chest, my face, and my cock. After a few seconds he stopped. I was shaking from the cold, not cold enough to be in danger, but definitely cold enough to be uncomfortable. I felt a pinch on both nipples as he re-applied the clamps. Immediately my sore nipples felt a dull pain. As I tried to breathe slowly and push through the pain, Andrew sprayed me again with the hose. Thrashing only made the clamps hurt more, but I couldn’t stand still — my naked body tried to turn away from the cold water even when my brain knew it was no use.

He sprayed me and then stopped, then started again, then stopped again, over and over, each time changing the amount of time between hosing me down so I couldn’t predict when the water would resume. The whole time the clamps stayed on, and the pain got worse and worse.

Eventually I couldn’t take it. I needed a break. I didn’t need to be free, and I wasn’t about to give up, but I needed a pause in the torture. I figured I’d probably been suffering for a good 30 maybe 40 minutes, if I told a fake code I could get a nice enough break to prepare me for the last third. I had to be near the home stretch.

“Please, Andrew, stop, I can’t take it anymore,” I shouted, playing up the begging so he’d think I was really about to give up. “I’ll give you the code, just please stop.”

He stopped spraying the water. I heard him walk toward me and then felt a towel on my thighs. Working upward, he dried my body, taking off my clamps as he dried my chest — which caused a rush of pain followed by a dull relief. I heard him rustle through a box of tools. Then I heard the rip of duct tape.

He placed a long piece of duct tape across my now dry chest, one along my stomach, and one around each leg. Then I felt him slide something to the base of my cock, which began to buzz. The vibrating cock ring providing just enough stimulation to keep me horny, but not enough to make cum.

“Give me the code,” he said, taking off my blindfold so he could look me in the eyes “and I’ll take the strips of tape off nice and easy. I’ll let the vibrating ring get you close, and I’ll jack you off. This can end good for both of us.”

He flicked my dick and then ran his hand up my chest until he reached my neck, at which point he grabbed my chin and held my face as he came right up close to me.

“If you pull that wrong code shit again, you’ll fucking regret it.”

I wasn’t excited for him to rip off the strips of tape — which is what I assumed was the threat he was trying to make. I’m not a hairy man, but I’m not shaved either. And it would be nice to cum. But the promise of Andrew being kept in chastity for another week was just too tempting. And part of me was enjoying the torture. It was like while I was being tortured, I desperately wanted to get out, but once the torment was over, I was horny for more.

So I gave him the wrong code.

“Oh you fucked up now,” Andrew said, so calm it scared me. I watched him turn around and walk over to duffle bag on a workbench. He grabbed something out of it, but I didn’t recognize what it was until he was right up in front of me.

A leather gag head harness.

“Wait, Andrew, how—”

He shoved the gag into my mouth, rendering my speech into incomprehensible mumbles, and then used the head harness straps to secure it so I couldn’t push the gag out.

What the fuck? The entire premise of this game relied on me being able to tell Andrew the code. If I couldn’t talk, he couldn’t get out of the chasity cage. What was he doing?

Sensing my confusion, or perhaps just making clear the shift in consequences, Andrew explained.

“I’m done being lied to,” he said, rustling through a bag of bdsm instruments as he talked “So far, you’ve managed to last 20 minutes. That was with two breaks. And you’ve given me no reason to believe you’ll give me the real code the next time I pause the torture.”

He took out an electro tens unit and began placing the electrodes on my thighs.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to torture you for the next 30 minutes. No stop. No reprieve. No way out. You’re gagged, so even if you do give up and try to say the code, I won’t understand you. So you’ll just have to stand there and suffer. After 30 minutes I’ll undo the gag and give you one last chance to give me the real code.”

I starting to shake. I was genuinely afraid of Andrew right now. I realized just how powerless I was.

“If you give me the real code, I’ll get off and get you off as well. No more torture. But if you don’t, the gag goes back in. And the torture will start again.”

I pulled at my binds with renewed vigor. I tried to move my mouth and tongue to push the gag out, to no avail.

“Because here’s the thing. We didn’t specify that I need to let you go once this hour is up. So if I’m still trapped in this chastity cage by the time this hour is up, I will channel all my anger and pent up sexual frustration into torturing you for hours on end.”

The tens unit was setup. He began to press buttons on it, and I felt small shocks on my thighs — a taste of what was to come.

“Andrew, I want you to think about that over this next half hour. While you’re screaming into that gag I want you to really think about how much more of this you’ll have to take if you lie to me again.”

He reached up and ripped off one of the duct tape pieces off. I strained against the restraints and screamed into my gag. As soon as the pain subsided, I felt a sharp shock to my thighs.

My 30 minutes of hell had begun.

To be continued …

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