By Mister-X / Spartan

I was standing in the middle of nowhere. My instructions were to take the bus to that location and get off. I looked around and saw nothing but flat land that had crops growing on it. I felt like that Cary Grant character in the Hitchcock movie “North by Northwest.” Fortunately I didn’t see any crop-dusting plane starting to come toward me. At least, not yet.

There was also another important difference from the character in the movie. I had been given a coat to wear on the journey along with the bus ticket. The instructions were to empty out my bowels and bladder before boarding the bus, as well as to get something to eat, then put on the coat, zip it up, fasten the belt, but don’t put my hands in the pockets or raise the hood. It would be a two-hour bus ride.

After I was on the bus, I was told to go to the back of the bus away from other passengers, to pull out the flap which was attached to the inner part of the jacket, strap the flap over my mouth and attach it to the other side, a flap which had a penis gag in the middle, to pull another flap tightly over my neck and attach it to the other side, to pull up the hood of the coat, and pull the drawstrings tight, only allowing my eyes to appear from the hood for anyone looking at me. Only then was I to put my hands into the pockets of the coat which would trigger cuffs that would snap together over my wrists. The cuffs were attached to the belt. I was to be effectively cuffed and gagged inside this heavy coat while riding on that bus. The instructions said that the person already sitting in the back of the bus would check to make sure that I had done the instructions.

The guy already sitting in the back of the bus and I exchanged slight nods. After I sat down I followed the instructions to the letter. I was used to doing that from my time in the military. We followed instructions. I found the coat to be heavy and snug-fitting. The guy who checked me stayed on the bus after I got off. There was one other problem. It was the middle of summer.

Back out on the road I was sweating profusely, bundled heavily in this coat, unable to remove it since my hands were cuffed. I’d wondered why I was doing this, following these instructions. I had gotten them in the mail anonymously. They offered me a large sum of money if I followed them explicitly, and included some money to entice me. I was out of work, hadn’t been able to find work, and I sure needed that money. So I succumbed to the temptation. And now I was standing alongside a road intersection in the middle of nowhere, waiting for, well, for something or someone, sweating heavily as I waited. I couldn’t imagine that they had put me to all this elaborate effort just to get me away from where I lived, though the thought did enter my mind.

Finally from a distance I could see a car approaching from the direction that the bus had gone to. It took a couple of minutes for the car to get to where I was standing. The car just whizzed on by. It was just like that movie. But I had been so engrossed in that car that I didn’t hear one approaching from behind me. That one stopped alongside me and the back door was opened. I got in. No word was spoken, but the intent was obvious. I didn’t want to continue standing there in that hot sun in the heavy coat.

There was another guy in the back seat. He reached over and locked shackles on my ankles. These had a foot-long chain between, so at least I would be able to walk. He also put a large elastic blindfold over my eyes. And he put earplugs in my ears. I thought, ‘see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.’ I couldn’t do any of the three. And I wondered if there was some evil involved that had made them offer such a large amount of money to get me to come on this strange journey. I wondered where they were taking me and why they wanted me. They obviously didn’t trust me.

When the car stopped, the door was opened next to me and I was pulled out. I was walked into a building. That much I could figure out. After that I was walked, periodically being stopped, but that was all I could figure out. I was taken to a chair, pushed down onto it, and strapped to the chair. Legs, both above and below the knee, stomach, chest, all were strapped to the chair. None of the other restraints were removed. I was left like that for some time. I was getting hungry and I needed to take a pee. But all I could do was wait. I learned to do a lot of that in the military, too.

Finally my earplugs were removed. I heard a voice. “Gentlemen, welcome to my home.” That was my first indication that there was more than just me and to what kind of building I was in. My blindfold was still on so I couldn’t see who else was there. The voice continued “I have brought you here because I am in need of your services. All of you had outstanding careers when you were in the military, but have had a difficult time adjusting to your life as a civilian. I need you to make use again of the specialized skills you had when you were in the military. You will now be taken to your rooms.”

I heard some shuffling as straps were removed and guys had gotten up. I was one of the last ones to be released from my chair and taken away. I still had all the restraints on that were there when I was being brought to this room. There was more than one person who took me to my room. When I was inside the room, I was faced inside, the hood of the coat was lowered and the gag was unstrapped at the same time as the blindfold was removed from behind me. As soon as they were off, the door was closed and I heard the sound of a key locking it. I still had the shackles on my feet, my hands were in those cuffs, and I was in that heavy coat.

I looked around my room. There was a bed and a little kitchenette. If I had the use of my hands I would be able to utilize it. Suddenly I felt the cuffs and shackles being opened, and I pulled my hands and ankles out. I looked around to see who had done it, but found no one else in the room. I immediately took off the coat and went into the bathroom to take a pee. I had never heard of cuffs or shackles being opened remotely, but I was happy that they were. I went over to the refrigerator and cupboard and found that there was food. I was hungry. I decided what I wanted to eat, and fixed myself dinner. After I’d finished eating, I went to the front door and verified that it was locked and I couldn’t get out. I thought for a minute, and looked up to see a camera focused on my movements. So I was being watched. I realized that they still didn’t trust me.

I started to check out what else was in that room. The first thing I noticed was a number printed on everything. It was the number ‘6.’ It was on the telephone, on the door, on the lamp, on the bed, on every bit of furniture on the room. I figured that I was now going to be called by my room number, not my real name. And I figured that all the others would be treated the same way to keep us from knowing each other. I was impressed with that tactic. ‘When you are a number you are de-humanized’ was one of my lessons from my military training.

I couldn’t find anything else in my inspection of my room. It was just a normal room, other than that number. Then I thought about the telephone. That could be a link to the outside. I looked at the explanations on the front for the use of the phone. It said that to contact the office, dial ‘0.’ To contact other rooms, dial the room number. I picked up the phone and found that it was dead. I searched for the wires to see if they were connected, and found that they were. The phone was ready to work, but it was dead. ‘To isolate the prisoner cut off all communications from him’ was another of my lessons from my military training. I realized that I was a prisoner here.

After that strange journey and the strange situation I found myself in, I finally started getting sleepy. I had been told not to bring my watch or cell phone, so I had no way of finding out what time it was. I looked around and found no clocks. There was no clock on the oven. There was no television set for me to find the time. It then dawned on me that I had no spare clothes. There was a closet in the room. I went over to it to see what spare clothes were there, and got a surprise. What was inside was a military uniform. I checked in the chest of drawers and found nothing. I had no spare underwear or other clothes.

I decided to take off my clothes and try on the olive-drab uniform to see if it even fit. There were pants which I tried on first. They were snug-fitting, the right size, made of wool combined with some other fabric that stiffened them. The only other part was that tunic. When I took it off the hanger I found that it was heavy. It was obviously well-made, also made of similar material to the pants. I put my arms through the sleeves and found that it was the right sleeve-length. There was a hard white plastic liner at the end of the sleeves.

I started buttoning up from the bottom. The buttons were brass, and had been shined. I had to suck my stomach in, but could get the buttons closed. It was even the right size over my thick chest. Last I fit the hooks of the hard stand-up collar into the loops on the other side. I had to hold my head up high to get it on. The collar was high and tight, not just snug, and was higher in the front than in the back. It seemed to be that same kind of wool blend, and was put over metal which went all the way around the collar. It also had a hard white thin plastic liner inside the collar. I had to keep my head held high to prevent the sharp top of that collar liner from poking painfully into the underside of my chin. I found that I couldn’t look down without that collar liner poking in, so I had to undo the collar before putting on the rest of the clothes. I put on the shoes that were in the closet under the uniform, and found that they fit perfectly as well. I expected that by now. I pulled the belt tight and buckled it, and finally closed the collar again. I looked in the mirror and saw a sharp-looking guy dressed in a military uniform looking back at me. It was then that I saw the number ‘6’ on both the tunic and the pants.

So these guys knew the size of my clothes and had this special uniform made for me to wear. It forced me to keep my stomach sucked in, my shoulders up, and my head held high and erect, like a good military uniform should do. Plus it was snug fitting like a good military uniform should be. It felt good to be back wearing a uniform again. I realized that they’d gone to a lot of trouble. ‘Impress the prisoner with your knowledge of his personal habits to make him more pliable.’

I took off the uniform and hung it back up. I was getting sleepy and went to bed. I slept in the nude, the way I normally sleep anyway. I wondered if they knew that, too.

When I awoke in the morning I was at first unaware of where I was. Then it all came back. I got up and went into the bathroom. There was a toothbrush and toothpaste there. They were the kind I used. There was also a straight razor for me to use. This was weird. I decided to not wear the uniform to throw them off, but to put the clothes back on that I wore when I came here. After getting cleaned up in the bathroom, I came out to do that, only to find that the clothes I’d worn yesterday weren’t there. Neither were the ankle shackles and the heavy coat. Apparently when I had been asleep they had entered my room and removed them. I checked the closet and chest of drawers again, and found only that uniform that I’d tried on last night. There wasn’t even any underwear. If I was going to be dressed I would have to wear that uniform. I put it on. ‘To make a prisoner do what you want him to do, give him only one option.’

I started to fix myself some breakfast. When I’d finished I heard my door open. There were three men standing there in the same kind of uniform I was wearing. They were armed, but none of their weapons were drawn. They looked ready for a fight. One of them said “we will need you to come with us, number 6. But first we must cuff your hands behind your back, blindfold and gag you. It would be easier if you allowed us to do that, but if you try to resist we are quite prepared to force you.” I could tell from the looks on their faces that they were hoping I would resist. I calmly backed up to them with my hands behind my back. With that much control I knew that it would be useless to resist. I was soon cuffed, blindfolded and gagged and being led away, walking erect in that uniform. ‘To get the prisoner to willingly comply with something he doesn’t want to do, overwhelm him with a show of force.’

I was marched to where I was going. It felt good to be back marching again. When I was called to a halt, I was ordered to stay at attention where I was standing. I was hearing others marched in like I was. Finally all of us seemed to be present. That voice started speaking to us again.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Each of you has a military specialty. Number 1 specializes in tracking people. Number 2 specializes in capturing people. Number 3, you specialize in subduing people, making them prisoners. Number 4, you specialize in transporting prisoners. Number 5, you specialize in securing prisoners. Number 6, you specialize in using psychology in breaking down prisoners’ resistance. Number 7, you specialize in using torture in breaking down prisoners’ resistance. Number 8, you specialize in interrogating prisoners. Number 9,” The list continued. The last one was number 31. I was surprised at how many of us were gathered and also at the variety of specialties. I still couldn’t see.

“Each of you will be challenged in your specialty with the objective of honing your skills back to the level they were at when you left the military. Some of you will be working together. Not all of you are here. We do not have need for all of you yet. Numbers 1 and 2 are dealing with tracking and capturing their third person. When we have need of your services we will be taking you where you need to go. Until you are needed, you are free to return to your rooms. However, you will be periodically tested for your loyalty while here, so expect periodic tests. Those who fail the loyalty tests will become prisoners and will be replaced.”

I heard others start to be led away. I could sense that my escorts were nearby, and I could not leave until they ordered me to. If there were 3 guards for each of us, that would mean 93 such guards. That would have to be a great expense. What could possibly justify such a big operation? Someone certainly has some big bucks who is behind this. But then, the size of this facility makes that obvious.

I was soon ordered to start marching away. I had no idea where I was being taken or what was planned for me. What could they do to hone the skills of someone like me who specialized in using psychology to break down prisoners’ resistance? They were correct in assessing my specialty.

I soon realized that I was not returning to my room. I was taken to another part of the facility. I heard a sturdy metal door being opened and closed. I was marched inside and ordered to wait while the door was closed. My blindfold and gag were removed, as well as my ankle shackles, but my handcuffs remained. I saw that I was in a prison. There were prisoners in the other cells. Apparently they needed me now.

“Number 6, you will be taken to a cell which is holding a prisoner. He is resisting attempts to break him down so he can be interrogated. You will be taken into his cell to join him. Your job is to break down his resistance.”

I was removed from the cell and continued to be marched, going up to his cell. They unlocked the cell door, and I was pushed into it. There was already another guy there, dressed in the same type of uniform I was in, his hands also cuffed behind his back, but otherwise with no blindfold or gag. The cell door was closed and locked, and the guards left. I didn’t know whether this was for real, or whether it was a test they had devised. I didn’t know whether I should do what they ordered, or avoid doing it. ‘Always keep a prisoner off balance, not knowing what is real and what is not.’

We looked at each other. Neither of us spoke. I noticed that his uniform had the number 32 on it. Finally the other prisoner said, “are you a plant?”

“I wondered the same about you.”

“I was the first one in this cell. You just got here.”

“So? You could have been put here to await my arrival. That’s an old trick.”

“You’ve got a lower number than I have.”

“That just means that I got captured earlier than you. Plants would have higher numbers.”

“How did they get you?”

“I was bribed into coming.”

“That’s going to make it difficult to either stay or return. You’re fucked either way.”

“I know. How did they get you?”

“They tricked me and captured me. I hadn’t even known that I was being followed. They’re good at what they do.”

“So what do we do now? Just wait?”

“I don’t know what they want.   Do you?”

“They want to utilize my skills. Do you have any skills they would want?”

“No.”

“Then they will want information that you have.”

“I won’t give them the information I have. I’ve resisted their efforts so far.”

“How well can you stand up to being tortured? I’ve found out that if you don’t willingly cooperate with them they’ll start torturing you.”

“Oh, fuck. I’ve never been one to be able to take being tortured. I don’t think I could handle that. What kind of torturing would they do?”

“I don’t know. All I know is, if you can’t stand to be tortured, then they’ll get the information from you that way. The only question is whether you do it willingly or under duress. You’ll have to make that decision.”

“What do you recommend?”

“That depends on what kind of person you are. I don’t know you, so I can’t make a recommendation.”

The guy thought that over for about an hour. I’ve had these matter-of-fact conversations with prisoners before. I’ve found that being frank and forthright, using logic, was the best way to get a prisoner to realize the position he was in and deal with it. He would know himself better than anyone else how he would react to the situation he was in. We were all taught to obey orders, to just give our name, rank and serial number, but when you’re facing the reality of the situation, it’s best to be practical.

After that hour the guy had obviously made up his mind. He went to the door and yelled out “guard! I’m ready to talk!” Soon three guards came, opened the door, and led him away. They left me. I wondered what would become of me. I had done the job they wanted me to do, assuming that this was a real situation and not a make believe one to test me, but I was kept cuffed in the prison cell. Finally three guards came back to my cell, and the door was opened. I recognized the same three guards who had brought me here.

“Very good, number 6. You did your job, and quickly. We are impressed. But we noticed that you used a reference to torture, which number 7 does, and you didn’t know what kinds of torture he would do. We discussed it among ourselves, and decided that you could be much more effective if you knew what number 7 did. So we are going to give you over to number 7 to deal with.”

“Will he be torturing me?”

“Yes.”

“No! I don’t need to be tortured to find out what he does.”

“We disagree. We think you will be more effective in talking to prisoners if you are. You need to experience what number 7 can do to people in order to dissuade prisoners from having to go through that.” He had a sadistic smile on his face when he said that. I noticed the other two guards were also smiling. They all came in and started restraining me further. I knew that to resist was futile. Soon in addition to continuing to have my hands cuffed I was gagged, blindfolded, had my ankles cuffed together, and knees belted together. I was left lying on the bed in the cell. I heard the door close and lock. The last words I heard were one of the guards saying “I want to watch number 7 in action.”

The head guard said “we’re all going to watch that. I’ve heard that he is the best at his craft. Number 6 will be the first prisoner he’s had a chance to practice on. It will be fun to watch.”

I was starting to sweat in that snug uniform. It seemed to have gotten tighter.

 

To be continued …