By Mister-X / Spartan

Soon I heard a cart being wheeled down the hallway. It was stopped at my cell, and my door was opened. I found myself being lifted off the bed by two men and taken over to where I thought the cart was stopped. I was set down, apparently on the cart. I was in a sitting position, though the seat was sunken, so that it would take quite an effort for me to get myself up and out of the seat even if completely unrestrained. I felt straps being placed over various parts of my body and being pulled tight. Over my ankles, over my lower legs, over my upper legs, on and on it went, each strap tightly attaching me to the cart, pulled tight and buckled. Finally, with the straps over my neck and mouth, I was ready to be transported. It was quickly and efficiently done.

I was wheeled down the hallway and into a large room. I could hear the sound of a lot of people talking, which gradually died down as I was wheeled into the room. Finally I was stopped being moved. I heard someone say “take off his blindfold. I always like to see the fear in my victim’s eyes.” The person’s voice was being magnified so it could be heard throughout the room.

I felt my blindfold being removed. After it was off, I saw that I was in a large room in a chair next to a table. The guy who was removing me from the chair had the number 4 on his uniform. The guy who was standing next to the table had the number 7 on his uniform. He was the one who was speaking. I noticed a lot of leather straps attached to both sides of the table. I also looked around the room and saw about 100 guys sitting there, all dressed in the same kind of uniform that the three of us wore.

As number 4 continued removing the straps keeping me in the chair, number 7 looked at me and said “so, number 6 is my first victim. You must have tried resisting what they wanted you to do so that you were sent to me.” I shook my head back and forth, since the straps covering it had been removed and I could move my head, but I was still gagged so couldn’t speak.

“Oh? That’s not the reason? Guard, remove his gag so I can talk with him.”

I noticed a guard off to the side come over to me, unlock and unbuckle my penis gag, removing it from me. I moved my jaws and licked my lips and started to answer. Number 7 moved his microphone next to my mouth as I did so. “On the contrary. I did my job well. I got the prisoner to be willing to volunteer his information. But in doing so I alluded to the tortures that you would inflict if the prisoner did not willingly volunteer the information. But since I didn’t know what those tortures entailed, my guards thought that I should experience them first hand so I could be more convincing in discouraging prisoners from being sent to you and instead would volunteer the desired information.”

“Discouraged from being sent to me?! That puts me in an awkward position. I want prisoners to be sent to me! I enjoy torturing them!” When he said this with such enthusiasm there was a reaction from the crowd, even some scattered applause and laughter. He continued “but if that’s what they want, that’s what I’ll have to give them. Besides, I’ve got an audience to perform my craft in front of. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them. Guards, remove him from the chair, remove his restraints, and remove his uniform. Then put him on the table.” By that time all the restraints keeping me in that chair had been removed, but I was still in the cuffs with knees belted like I had been left in the cell. These were removed, and my uniform was finally removed. I was now completely naked and unrestrained.

The guards lifted me onto the table, held me down, and started attaching the straps over me to secure me to the table. There were a lot of straps, and this took some time. I noticed that the guard in charge of this had the number 5 on his uniform. I noticed that there was a camera focused on me, and number 7 was making sure that it was working properly and was broadcasting. I glanced over to see a huge screen which most of the audience was looking at.

When I was completely strapped to the table, I tried testing my bonds, and found that I couldn’t move. Number 7 tested each of them, and was satisfied that they were working properly. As he was doing this, he quietly said to me with the microphone turned off. “I won’t be too harsh on you, since we’re on the same team and my tortures can sometimes permanently damage my victim’s psyche. But for the benefit of the audience I’d appreciate it if you reacted as if I were being harsh.”

I responded with “go ahead and give it your best. I’ll cooperate as best I can.” He looked at me a little strangely, and nodded his head.

My cock was sticking in the air. Number 7 was smiling and pointed it out to the audience when he saw this. It also brought a reaction from a number of the people in the audience. I heard some of them calling it to their friends’ attention.

Number 7 started his lecture after turning the microphone back on. “Always it is best to have the prisoner naked to be tortured. I focus on certain parts of the body which are normally covered up. These are the vulnerable parts. My job is to inflict pain. Mind numbing, intense pain. Pain so hard to deal with that it blots out all logical thought. And all the while I tell the prisoner that all he has to do to stop the pain is to tell us what he knows.” I was starting to sweat as he was talking.

“There are certain parts of the body that are basically raw nerve endings. Since they are normally sensitive, and people cannot function with raw nerve endings exposed all the time, these have become numbed. It’s the body’s way of hiding its vulnerabilities. My job is to bring out these raw nerve endings and use them to my advantage. One such area is the nipples. They are sensitive to the touch.” He started lightly running his fingers along the tips of mine, and I started reacting, as did my cock, rising more.

“But they also react to pain.” He had gotten two metal tit clamps in his hands when he said this and suddenly clamped them viciously on my nipples. I reacted by yelling full throat from the pain. I didn’t have to fake this. I noticed a shocked reaction from the audience. “That’s just one such part of the body. There are others. For example, these are sensitive.” He grabbed my balls in his fist and squeezed them. I tried jerking my head up in response, prevented, of course, by the straps, as I let out another full-throated yell. I was wondering when he was going to start taking it easy on me. I wondered if he construed my response as deciding to not take it easy on me.

“And there are ways of sending painful shocks to these sensitive areas. I have these little devices which I can hook up to sensitive areas with wires connected to them which can send electric shocks. These can be mildly pleasant, stimulating the areas targeted, or they can be strongly painful, sending excruciating pain to the areas targeted. All it takes is to adjust the dial on the box connected to the wires. I could show you how painful they can get, but I think number 6 has experienced enough pain in those areas already. He can imagine how painful those shocks can be.” I was already sweating profusely from the little he’d already done, and I nodded my head up and down vigorously as he looked at me with that wicked smile on his face. My reaction was shown to the audience, and there was laughter when they saw it.

“Then there are the ways of scaring prisoners by cutting off their air supply. To demonstrate the various ways this can be done, I will need to gag number 6 again. He released the straps over my head and neck so my head could be brought up. He stuffed a cloth into my mouth and started wrapping duct tape around and around my head. “I prefer to completely fill a prisoner’s mouth and make sure that not a speck of air can enter into it from outside.”

When he was finished he continued, “there are a number of methods that can be used. I like to try them all to see which gets the biggest reaction. The simplest is to just close the nostrils, either with fingers or with a simple clothes pin.” As he was saying this he put his fingers over my nostrils. He continued talking for a minute about how the prisoner would try to move his head to try to get the fingers removed, that you had to exert force to make sure that he didn’t succeed. And he said how long that the normal prisoner could hold out, and what was the longest time one had held out before passing out. He went on to talk about whether it was best to let the prisoner completely pass out or just take him to the brink before removing your fingers. He said that he preferred going to the brink because it was so much more effective if the prisoner retained consciousness, not knowing whether he would completely lose air the next time, and you could immediately begin again while the prisoner had that fear in his mind. I was by now about to pass out, shaking my head to try to get his fingers away from my only source of air, when he removed his fingers just in time. I was quickly breathing in and out as he continued giving his lecture.

He next brought out a plastic bag and put it over my head, talking about the various ways of securing it, showing how, as I would exhale and breathe back in what I had exhaled, the bag would gradually shrink down closer to my head. He also said that some prisoners would get off on this, and would ejaculate just before the air would run out. Just as I was about to run out of air, he removed the bag from me. As if on cue, I had started erupting cum onto my chest. Number 7 got a smile and said “see? Just like that.” The audience was laughing. I was embarrassed.

Number 7 continued about choking, strangling and hanging someone with a noose. He said that he didn’t want to get into those options for this lecture, but those were options that could be used. He smiled and said “maybe when I have more time I can demonstrate the electricity, choking, strangling and hanging. I’m sure that you would enjoy seeing this. Since number 6 is being such a good volunteer, maybe I can try these out on him.” There was applause from the audience. I was starting to shake from the thought.

Then he switched to the subject of beatings. He brought out various paddles, canes, whips and prangers, showing the properties, saying that the paddles with holes in them were best since the air would not cushion the blow with those, and talking about the effects of each, all of them causing pain, getting the skin red, canes causing stinging and often cutting the skin, and the whips concentrating great pain in the area it hit. He cracked a whip in the air to demonstrate how much force it would generate. “Again, I would need a longer session to demonstrate these on number 6.” I started shaking at the thought.

He brought out a little paddle with a long handle. “There are some smaller devices that can be quite effective in dealing with those sensitive areas I had started talking about. This one, for example, is very good at hitting a person’s balls.” He used it on mine, hitting them hard. I reacted into my gag with a full-throated yell, as well as by jerking my body. “As you can see, it always gets a reaction.”

“There are other ways of punishing someone. Hanging them in the air with their entire body weight supported by their hands or ankles, lifted in the air by their cuffed hands behind their backs, a particularly painful method called ‘strappado.’ These I reserve for positions to leave the prisoner in after I’ve finished with him for the day. Since there is no need for the prisoner to talk when I’ve finished with him for the day, I always leave the prisoner gagged when I do this. I’ll demonstrate ‘strappado’ to you with number 6. Guards, release him and cuff his hands behind his back.”

I didn’t want to have that done to me, particularly not for overnight. But I didn’t have a choice. I again knew that to resist was futile. Soon I was off that table, hands cuffed behind my back, taken to a chain that was hanging down from the ceiling over at the side of the room. I had the chain attached to my handcuffs, and it was pulled up. As it would go up, I would start to bend forward at the waist. Soon I was forced up into the air. The pain on my shoulders was excruciating. I was starting to yell again from the pain.

Number 7 had come over to me. He said to the audience “as you can see he is in quite a lot of pain from this. You can come down and get closer to the prisoner. Also notice that his body is completely exposed while he is like this. For example, you could grab his balls” he grabbed my balls and squeezed them hard, eliciting a louder yell into my gag, “or grab his dick” he grabbed my shaft and squeezed hard, again eliciting a louder yell into my gag. “Keep in mind, the purpose is to give the prisoner as much pain as possible, again telling him that the torture will only stop when he is willing to volunteer the information you need, or to modify his behavior to what you need him to do. In the case of leaving him in a painful position overnight, you tell him that you will leave him to think about it and ask him again in the morning. Sometimes I would return in a couple of hours if I thought that the prisoner was close to breaking.”

Some of the audience got into it by grabbing my balls or dick and squeezing them hard. I also had guys twisting my toes back. When number 7 saw this he said, “be careful. Remember, number 6 is on our side. He is just here to learn, so don’t get carried away in your punishment.” I mentally thanked number 7 for saying this.

Finally number 7 and the audience left the room. I was kept there hanging by my cuffs. My shoulders were in intense pain. At last my guards came up to me with my uniform. Number 4 was also there with the prisoner transport chair. I was lowered down, had my cuffs removed, and got dressed. Afterwards I was cuffed again, put back in all the restraints I had on when I was on the bed in that cell, and was again strapped into that transport chair. Wheeled back to the cell I’d been in, I was removed from the chair and laid back down on the bed, still restrained as I’d been before when there. Number 4 left with the chair, and my main guard said, “it was felt that you would be most effective in relating with the prisoner if you were already in the cell restrained. This cell will now be your new home.” Having said that, he and the other guards closed the cell door and left me lying there.

Of more immediate concern to me was when I would be allowed to pee, and when I would be fed. I didn’t know if that was part of the torture that number 7 had ordered done. It would certainly be another effective means of torture.

It wasn’t long before my guards returned. They opened my cell door, sat me up, still restrained as I was, unzipped my pants, and put a jar under my penis for me to pee into. When that was done, they lay me down on the floor, took off my gag and blindfold, and put a bowl of food and a bowl of water in front of me. I realized that I was going to have to eat and drink out of the bowls without the use of my hands. The guard said “this is how we feed prisoners. You will be treated this way as well. You are not to talk. If you do so, you will not be fed.”

I started eating as best I could. Food got messed on my face. I was able to get rid of some of it by dropping my face in the bowl of water after I had drunk my fill, but I couldn’t get rid of all of it. When I finished they put the cloth back in my mouth and wrapped more duct tape around it, adding the blindfold as well. They made no attempt to wipe my face off. They lay me back on the bed. I figured that this was now going to be my life, interrupted periodically by prisoners that I was to try to convince to tell them what they knew.

I got to thinking about what I had seen earlier. Everyone was dressed in the same kind of uniform. That included the guards, those of us who were brought here for specific purposes, and the real prisoners that I was to convince to tell what they knew. That must mean that this is an internal branch of some military unit, and they were trying to weed out some internal problem that they were having. At least I wasn’t involved in some war or power grab that some guy was planning, which was what I originally had thought. I felt better about my job. Of course, it still could be that one of the officers was secretly trying to take over the unit. They kept us in the dark about what our purpose is. I was also used to that from my time in the military.

I started getting a regular flow of cell mates. My cell mates would not be gagged or blindfolded, and would eventually remove mine with their hands, which were always cuffed behind their backs. We could then get to talking, and they would ask me about the place, seeing that I had been there longer. The subject soon came to what these people wanted, and we would soon venture into the same kind of conversation I would have about the options that were open to the prisoner for either volunteering the information he knew or having it forced from him by torture. I started keeping track. Slightly over half would realize it would be best if they volunteered it. The others who wouldn’t would be taken away on that transport chair by number 4. I would soon start hearing their screams from down the hall. After the cell mate would be removed, my guards would always return and put me in the same restraints I was normally kept in in this cell, gag and blindfold put back on. My face was never cleaned, the guards thinking it added a touch of authenticity to me.

As the days passed I wondered how long this was going to keep up. It was about a month and a half before the steady stream of cell mates started slacking off. Finally there hadn’t been another one for a week. At this time I was removed from my cell and taken back to my room. I was badly in need of cleaning up, since I stunk. Again, my guards thought that my body odor added a touch of authenticity. I was glad to finally have a chance to clean up so I quit smelling like a skunk. Fortunately I either had a new uniform, or they were able to clean the one I had been wearing, because the odor from that was also gone when I put it on the next day.

I figured that with 31 different specialists, and me being only number 6, there would be more time elapse before all 31 had finished their jobs with the prisoners. I was kept in my room for several weeks. Finally we were all summoned to another group meeting. As usual, I was cuffed, gagged and blindfolded, and marched to it. After we were all gathered, ‘the voice’ addressed us.

“Men, we have finished our mission. We have found the cancer in our organization and rooted it out. Our government owes you a debt of gratitude. However, you were so effective that it was felt that this unit should continue to remain together. There are other branches of our government that are having a similar problem to what we dealt with. So you will soon begin your jobs again. You will also be doubly compensated, having now another job to do. We look forward to your continued dedication and service in your specialty field.”

The speech having finished, I, and I’m sure my colleagues, were returned to our rooms, marched back the same way we came. So this isn’t finished yet. I was going to be kept here longer, still a sort of prisoner, still thought of as just number 6, not having a real name, my only identity being what my specialty was. I figured that if we were investigating another department, there was probably a different uniform that we would be wearing. I wondered what this new uniform would be like. I had gotten to like the one I had been wearing. I’d have to see how well the new one functioned. This one certainly had done its job. Everyone I saw was lean and trim, keeping at erect posture. That was quite a contrast to what I saw in the civilian world. My life here was a lot more fulfilling than my life as a civilian. I had been hoping that this little group of specialists would continue, and I got my wish.

My thoughts were interrupted by my guards entering the room again. “During the lull in the action, it was decided that all of you need to start making use of our gym facilities to get your bodies back into peak condition. We will take you to the gym one at a time in numerical order. Number 5 is there now.”

I was taken the usual way, marched while hands were cuffed behind my back, gagged, and blindfolded. When I got to the gym and my restraints removed, I was given gym clothes to put on by another guy I hadn’t seen before. My guards went over to number 5 who was there dressed in his uniform, and he was restrained as I was and marched away.

After I’d put on my gym clothes, the other guy who was there started leading me in a series of strenuous exercises. I soon realized that the time I had been restrained in that cell without regular exercise had started weakening my body, and I needed to start toughening it back again. When I had finally finished, exhausted from the routine, the guy said “I’ve set these at the amount you were able to do at this time. I will be expecting gradual improvements with each visit”. I was restrained as usual and returned to my room. I saw number 7 as I was leaving.

That night I was awakened from my sleep by one of the guards. He motioned for me to keep quiet. I was still groggy from sleeping, and wondered what was going on.

“I’ve found out that the unit is not being kept together for the reason that was stated, to root out internal problems elsewhere. Instead, it is being kept together to help our leader take over the running of this military branch. We can’t let this happen. He’s a madman. Witness how he got all of you here. I have been communicating with the current leader of this military branch, a good man who is loyal to our country’s leader. There are some of us who know what is going on, and some who are loyal to our unit’s leader, helping him in his quest. Those of us who are loyal to the current leader of this military branch figured that, with the help of you numbered guys, we can head this off. But for goodness sake don’t say anything about this conversation to anyone!”

“I noticed that there is a television camera looking at everything that happens in this room, recording it as well.”

“I’ve disabled those for these conversations I’ve been having. None of this is being recorded. But in the meantime, I’ll be back in touch, or one of our group will be.” He quickly left my room after saying this.

I couldn’t get back to sleep. I didn’t know what to think. We were warned about having our loyalty periodically tested. Was this a test or was it for real? If it was a test I should report it, but if it was for real then I should not report it. What should I do? I had no other information to go by, other than my suspicions when I got here that this special unit would be used for something like this. I finally realized that I had been given no opportunity to report anything anyway, so it didn’t do any good thinking about what I should do. With that, I went back to sleep.

 

To be continued …