By BondageChallengeGames

“Tom changed the code!”

My shout echoed through the garage. I’d hoped this final plea before I was muffled would convince Andrew to stop, to release me and give me a break. It wasn’t my fault he would remain locked in chastity. We’d both been played by Tom.

But as he secured the gag on my head and placed the swim cap back over my face, it became very clear my realization had fallen on deaf ears.

In the 45 seconds I could hold my breath in the swimcap, Andrew put clamps on my nipples and restarted the electrode cycle. When my air ran out and I started to thrash around, he let me struggle a few seconds longer than usual. I sucked in the nonexistent air, causing the swim cap to go flush against my face. Only then did he take the cap of and let me breathe. While I rushed to fill my lungs before the cycle could start again, he flogged my stomach, causing the clamps to wiggle and pull even more.

The worst was about to come.

He put the cap back over my head, and this time, while my air got cut off he began tickling me. I thrashed around, laughing involuntarily into the gag, which only made me run out of air quicker. He stopped tickling me when he removed the swim cap, but immediately followed with a smack of the flogger. Throughout this entire process, the electrodes zapped me without warning and with random intensties.

He did this over and over. As I sank back into subspace – not a passive one but one where I could lay back and enjoy my bonds, but an active one where the only thing I could focus on was my torture – I put the pieces together about Tom’s trick.

From the beginning, the three of us had agreed that once the hour of interrogation was over, Andrew shouldn’t be able to get the code out of me.

“Given enough time, anyone could torture anything out of anyone,” I said. I had suggested the one-hour limit for two reasons: to encourage Andrew to go hard on me, and to ensure there was actually a chance to endure and win. “Without a time limit, Andrew will eventually break me. There needs to be an incentive on his end and a goal for me to push through the pain to.”

Tom had liked this idea. Andrew didn’t really care, as long as he had a way to get out of the cage. Our initial plan to implement the one-hour limit was very low-tech and simple. Tom would come down when the hour was up and free me. But when we realized the only day I could come over was also the day Tom had to work late, we came up with another plan.

We got an electronic lockbox. One that Tom, who had always been a pretty machine-and-programming-smarts kinda guy, said he could program to change codes at a certain time. For the whole week Tom and I had known the code to the box, but at the end of the interrogation hour, the box would change to a code only Tom knew.

Of course, what actually happened, is that somewhere along the way, Tom just changed the code to something only he knew. So from the very start, no code I could have said would have unlocked the box and subsequently ended my torment. In hindsight, I doubt he ever “programmed it to change after the hour.” Truth be told, he probably just set it to the code only he knew and left it at that.

He’d played me and Andrew both. Whether or not he’d known Andrew would continue torturing me after the hour didn’t matter – Tom was responsible for my current prolonged and unending suffering.

As I hung there, taking hit after hit of the flogger, I cursed Tom with my wordless grunts and vowed revenge, until I sank so deep into subspace that I lost the ability to think at all. I felt every hit, every adrenaline-fueled gasp for air, every shock, and every involuntary twitch from tickled muscles. My body responded. Thrashing, pulling, struggling fully automatically while my brain experienced every torturous moment out of time.

Eventually, maybe minutes and maybe hours later, Andrew paused his sadistic cycle. He took the swim cap off and sat it down. He ripped the nipple clamps off. I hung there, my legs exhausted, my jaw sore, and my arms strained.

“I want you to know I heard you,” Andrew said, “‘Tom changed the code.’”

I gave a pitiful “mmmphf” through my gag.

“Honestly,” he continued, “I think I might even believe you. It seems like something he would do, and to give myself credit, I probably did break you earlier.”

I relaxed a little. If he believed me, there was a good chance he’d let me go. I could finally rest.

“The problem is, it doesn’t actually matter, does it? Whether or not you lied, either way I’m still stuck in chastity. So if I’m not getting out of this thing, I need to find another way to get pleasure.”

He came right up close to my face. I shivered and tried to shrink away.

“And right now, the only thing giving me pleasure is hurting you.”

“Mmmmphf, MMMMMPPF,” I shouted and pleaded into my gag. I was on the verge of tears. I was so tired of the pain. I was so exhausted. I needed release. Mentally I couldn’t take any more, but I could sense Andrew could keep going for much longer.

“So I’m going to change the way you’re restrained. I know you can’t keep standing here all night – and trust me I plan to keep torturing you all night – so I’m going to move you to the bed. You will be restrained the whole time. You won’t be able to escape, but if you try, if you give me any trouble, you will regret it.”

He walked around the garage, grabbing locks, keys, and other equipment to restrain and lead me to his bedroom.

There had to be a way to get him to stop! I wasn’t ready to endure however many more hours of pain he planned to put me through. And this moment, where he was already planning to transition the scene, would be my best chance to change the trajectory of the night. I could try to escape. We’re about the same strength, and if I got free I had a 50-50 chance of overpowering him. I looked over the equipment he was gathering: a locking collar, a locking leather chest harness, a spreader bar, a ring gag, and plenty of master locks. My guess was he would relocate my wrists behind my back, probably then locking them to the rings on the back of the harness or the ring on my collar, and then lock my legs to the spreader bar. If that was the case he could very easily keep me restrained while leading me to the bedroom. Escaping would probably not be a very good option.

But the ring gag and collar were promising. Not for my escape odds, but for a different way out. The head harness that was muffling me now was coming off – to be replaced of course, but not before I’d have a chance to say something. I had an idea, one last hope for respite from the horrors of Andrew’s plans for me.

He took the head harness off, and in the moment before he could get the ring gag in my mouth I shouted: “I can help you get the code!”

He paused, giving me a chance to finish my plea.

“I can help you capture Tom. We can torture the code out of him!”

To be continued …