The Interrogation of CIA Agent Ken Richardson – Part 1

By Joemal

I received a call at 5:30am… It awoke me from a calm sleep.  “Agent Richardson?” said the stern voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes…” I said in a scratchy voice.

“Report to Howard Air Force base at 0-700, your mission is in Honduras.” commanded the official voice.

“Understood,” I replied and hung up the phone.

I knew what this mission was.  It had been in discussion for several months.  A mission that I knew I would be picked to do based on the information I had been collecting over the past few years about one of the most sadistic drug rulers in Honduras Jose “The Punisher” Lopez.  As it seems The Punisher is now getting out of hand as he is moving forward with his intentions on expanding his cocaine fields by taking over the local’s land near his sprawling compound.  My mission is to monitor his expansion efforts… document them and then call in CIA covert forces to finally put an end to Lopez.

I arrived at the base early.  I was greeted by my director, Senior Agent Michael McKenzie, a 43 year old specimen of a man that I envied not only for his 6’3, muscled body but for his keen sense of being a top agent for the CIA.  He quickly briefed me on the status of what was going on in Honduras.  Apparently Lopez is secretly capturing men and forcing them to work in his fields and in his processing labs.  He is getting them locally in Honduras and he is now buying men from the black market.  Lopez has an interest in Caucasian men between 24 to 40 years of age.  This means (as McKenzie explains) Lopez has already started buying men from the US… approximately 30 so far.  With this new information, I knew Lopez had to be stopped before he becomes unstoppable.

McKenzie told me the plane headed for Tegucigalpa will leave in a few hours and then a van will be waiting near the isolated landing strip to take me as close as possible to the Lopez compound which is located along the Patuca River.

After the debrief I headed to the locker-room to stuff my duffle bag with fatigues, boots, communication devices, and rations.  I traded my civilian clothes for a tight olive green military tank, dark green briefs, fatigues and boots without socks.  I knew all too well that the Honduran heat can and will be extreme.

After a six hour flight with a brief stop in Mexico to drop off another agent, the plane landed near Tegucigalpa.  And just like McKenzie said, a small white Toyota van was waiting for me near the lone landing strip.

“Good evening…” said the young driver.  He was a mid 20’s jarhead that smelled of sweat from being in the heat all day long.  “I hear you’re headed off to keep an eye on Lopez.”

Smiling at him, as I threw my bag in the back seat I said, “Yep, it looks like The Punisher needs to be taken out.  So where exactly are you going to drop me off?”

“Well…” the jarhead replied, “We got about a 3 hour ride with the last two hours of it on pretty bumpy dirt road.  I’m going to drop you off about a mile away from the compound.  You’ll be able to climb atop a bluff overlooking his main coca field.  From there you can get a good idea of what is going on.”

“Sounds good,” I said as I put the palms of my hand behind the back of my head settling in for the ride ahead.

By 11:30 that night, not only was my ass sore from the bumpy dirt road ride, but the humidity had really got to me as well.  The jarhead brought the van to an abrupt halt.

“Ok, here you are.”  He pointed up to a small palm tree covered hill.  “Head up that way, use your compass and hike east-northeast until you reach the top of the bluff.”

“Got it,” I said as I strapped the duffle on to my back.  “And thanks… I know you have a long ride back, so take care.”

“Will do..” he replied with a wink from his right eye… “And keep guard, we all know what Lopez has done to past agents, but I hear you’re one of the best.  It would be tragic to lose you.”

“I have no intentions on getting captured by Lopez.” I said sternly, “Lopez is mine.”

And with that, the little van sped away leaving me alone on the dark dirt road under the patchy moonless sky.  I then began my hike through the thick brush and trees.  The mosquitoes were thick and I quickly got my bug spray to ward them off.  By 4:30 am I finally made it to the top of the bluff my heart was racing in anticipation for what I would see.  Only seeing photos of the compound and hearing eye witness accounts this would be the first time I would lay my eyes on the real thing.  I took off my duffle bag and crawled up to the edge of the bluff and looked down onto the huge cocaine field and the several buildings that were located on the outer edges.  Large torches lit the fields so it could even be harvested at night.  Even though light pink sun rays were starting to make their way in the sky, I used my night vision binocs to get a better look.  I was astonished at what I saw through the binoculars.  I saw many shirtless men picking the leaves, 4 guard towers, and other guards with dogs walking the perimeter.  My binocs had the ability to take pictures and email them back to HQ.  I took several picks and I tried getting close-ups of the men picking the leaves.  Most of them were white, well muscled men.  They varied in age.  Most were wearing worn blue jeans, and they were bare foot.  They were about 10 to 15 feet apart from themselves.

After about an hour of getting the good feel of the compound I sat up and stripped off my soiled tank.  My pecs glistened in the morning sun light.  I reached in my bag for a fresh tank and a couple nutrition bars and a bottle of water.  Now I needed to get a closer look, so I climbed down the bluff 20 or so feet and perched myself on a rocky ledge.  And that was my big mistake.  The rocky ledge exposed me from the trees and I was easily spotted by guards who roamed the outer edges of the compound.  I didn’t realize this until the last possible moment.

I heard a twig snap behind me and my body froze…the barrel of Kalashnikov rifle was forcibly stuck right between my glutes.

“Don’t make a move… American scum.” The voice said in broken English.

Another voice said… “Raise your arms slowly in the air and don’t make a sound.  You’re lucky you got this far.”

My heart was pounding a mile a minute.  Regretting every thought of getting as close as I did, I dropped the binocs and slowly raised my arms above my head.  As soon as they were high enough another guard quickly grabbed them and tightly handcuffed them.  The rifle was taken out of my ass and I was hastily brought to my feet.  I looked at the 3 guards with wide eyes shaking my head, fearful to say anything.

One of the guards spoke in Spanish on his walky-talky that I had been captured.  The responding voice commanded they bring me down to the compound at once.  One of the guards reached in a sack they had and pulled out a burlap bag with a draw-string.  He placed it over my head and pulled the string tight around my neck.  Now hooded, they roughly brought me into the compound.  It seemed like it took forever.  I stumbled several times along the way with branches slapping me in the face and torso.  They finally got me on to the well worn dirt road that divided the cocaine field which led to the entrance of one of the main buildings.

We entered the building.  I was still being tightly held by my biceps by two of the guards.  There was a lot of shouting among the guards in Spanish.  I suspect they were shouting how this could have happened again and they knew their compound could soon be under siege by US anti-drug agents.  After minutes of shouting I was abruptly taken down a hall (still hooded) and brought in a room.  The door slammed behind me.  I was twisted around to face the opposite direction.  And then a tightly clenched fist impacted with my gut.  It instantly knocked the wind out of me as I gasped for air.  The guards still held me firmly by the biceps.  Then another rocketing punch slammed against my abs.  I gasped in pain as I doubled over.  This time the guards used their feet to spread my legs and elbowed my lower back to arch me back in place.  Then two swifter punches right to the abs.  I could barely draw in another breath when another fist punched my right side.  Then there was a slight pause, nothing was said by anyone as I was being beat up.  The punishing fist then impacted by cock and balls, and I shouted in pain as my ball sack was crushed against my groin.  Then with both fists the punisher boxed my cock and balls unmercifully.  I wailed in pain and begged him to stop.  Knowing that I was now in considerable pain, the guards threw me to the ground still handcuffed.  I rocked back and forth in the fetal position trying to offset the crushing pain that was pulsing through my dick and ball sack.

The door opened, and in came a couple of men.  In broken English one of them ordered… “Take off the hood and cuffs and sit him in the chair.”

I was brought to my feet.  The cuffs came off my raw wrists, and the hood was jerked off.  I squinted at first to get used to the bright light in the windowless room.  I was pushed down into an old wooden chair.  Now I got a good look at these men.  They were very muscled, dark tanned, most had mustaches except for the one who spoke in English.  A late 30s early 40s Honduran wearing only fatigues and boots.  His pecs were enormous and his erect dark nipples pointed towards the floor.  His hands were on his hips and he was studying my body.  He walked closer and stood in front of me with a stern scowl on his face.  I looked right back at him with a stern look still coping with the severe body blows.  With his hands he grabbed the shoulder straps of my military tank and with colossal strength he ripped the tank right off my body, so quick was the action that my pecs jiggled from the movement.  I now sat there shirtless, exposed, my mouth open and eyes widened, amazed at what just happened.

The interrogator then got closer to my face.  He rested both of his hands on either side of the armchair, and bent down so his face was inches from mine.  He stared evilly into my eyes and said, “What is your name American?”

I turned my head and looked away.  I could smell his breath.  It was disgusting.

He grabbed my jaw forcing me to look at him, and repeated what he said.

“My name is Ken Richardson.”

“Age?” he shouted.


“Are you part of the US military?” he bellowed.

I didn’t respond.  I only glared back at him.  With the back of his right hand he slapped my face… causing a searing pain.  Grabbing my jaw he made me look at him again.

“Are you with the military?” he screamed.

“No.” I said.

“CIA?” he asked.

I was silent.  I was not going to give him much info.  I knew he wasn’t Lopez.  He then clenched his fist and punched my stomach.  The beads of sweat on my chest spattered against my neck and chin.  He then punched me again this time pummeling me just below my navel.  I coughed out a cry of pain.

“Talk American faggot!” demanded the interrogator.  His final blow landed on my bruised cock and balls.  I arched my body in pain, screaming from the sharp needle like sting.  The interrogator turned to the other guards and spoke to them in Spanish to take me down to interrogation.  He then stormed out of the room, and a couple of guards followed after him.

The 3 remaining guards forcibly picked me up out of the chair, and with two firmly holding me by the arms, they took me out of the room and down the dark hall.  At the end of the hall they unlocked a large metal door.  Without protesting as that would be futile, they dragged me down a long staircase to an underground bunker.  Another metal door was unlocked and again I was taken down a long hallway.  In the middle of the hallway they stood me in front of another door.  A man on the inside opened it and we entered.

I began to shake my head and looked at them searching for any type of mercy.  The room was a torture chamber.  Complete with a large wooden table in the center of the room, and bright lights hanging from the ceiling.  Large white metal cabinets with glass doors lined the walls.  I could see instruments used to punish men inside these cabinets.  I looked in fear as I saw electrodes, large straps, electro-type anal plugs, and numerous clamps probably used on the nipples and other body parts.  It looked like a wicked S&M doctor’s office.  There were bottles of pills, catheters, long thin rubber like tubes that are obviously used to penile insertions.  At the back of the room I saw a couple sinister looking machines, obviously one of them looked like an erect penis would be inserted into the machine by the looks of the clear long plastic tube attached to it.  The other machine was definitely used for electro-torture.  The man who opened the door was a white man in his middle to late 40’s wearing a white lab coat.

As he was retrieving a couple of bottles from a cabinet in Spanish he ordered the guards to strip me naked.  One of the guards held both of my upper arms as the other guard faced me.  He then unbuttoned my fatigues and jerked them to my knees revealing my dark green sweaty briefs.

“No God, please no…”  I begged, “Please let me talk to Lopez.  I want to talk with him.  Please, I beg of you.  Do you speak English?” directing my pleading to the man in the white coat.  He ignored me as he continued to prepare for what lie ahead of me.  I was so concerned that he responded to me, that I didn’t notice that one of the guards lifted my knee so he could take off my boot.  In seconds booth boots were off exposing my large dirty feet.  Then the guards removed my fatigues.  I was now standing there nearly stripped.  Both guards were firmly holding my arms restricting my movement.  The doctor then came over to me and examined my firm muscled body.  My chest, was now heaving up and down from enormous anxiety.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” the doctor said with a tinge of seriousness to his voice.  “I see they already did a number on your abs, by the bruising.”  He then looked at me square in the face.  “I am here to break you.  Do not start confessing. In fact you will be gagged as I am tired of hearing men scream. You are in excellent physical shape.  This means it will take me longer to break you.  By the way, I am Dr Frankin, and your name is?”

“You cold sadistic mother-fucker,” I responded in complete shock.  “You can fucking go to hell you sick fucking bastard.”

Dr. Frankin looked down and slightly shook his head.  “I don’t come across your type that often.  Most men sent to me, either American or Honduran are very humble, pleading from everything from forgiveness to mercy, telling me about their kids, and loved ones.  When I do get men like you, all that means is that I have to work a little bit harder on you.”  He then circled me, checking out my back muscles, getting a good look at me to see what he needs to do.  He had two pills in his hand, and he showed them to me.  One was a very large pink horse pill, the other a smaller round blue pill.  “Guards, hold him as I administer these pills.”

“No fucking way!”  I tried to struggle but the guards held me, one quickly punched me in the kidney to weaken me.  The doctor grabbed my jaw and opened my mouth.  Another guard bent my head back and plugged my nose.  I gasped for breath threw my mouth and the doctor shoved the pills down my throat.  I instantly choked as the pills worked past my Adam’s apple.  “What the fuck did you give me?” as my heart raced so fast I thought it would explode.

The doctor grabbing both sides of my briefs, jerked them down to my ankles exposing my large flaccid cut penis, and bull balls nestled in black curly pubic hair.  My dick bounced a little from the sudden action.  “If you must know, the pink one will soon erect your penis designed by the Nazis, and the blue one is going to put your mind in a fog, which will allow me to physically interrogate you.

Within seconds my stomach churned the pills and the toxins entered my bloodstream.  I shook my head as my eyelids got heavy.  “You sadistic fucking bastard,” I breathed in disgust.

“Now bind him to the table.”  He commanded.

One of the guards grabbed me from the armpits and the other two grabbed each ankle hoisting me onto the table.  My struggles were now mere movements which took little effort on their part to counter.  They spread-eagled me, fastening my wrists and ankles wide apart with thick leather straps. Another strap was stretched across my chest just below my pecs.  Then they stretched another leather strap holding down my waist just below my navel.  The guards did the same just below my knees firmly locking my legs down to prevent movement.  With horror I looked between my legs, I watched as my cock grew into a full rock hard erection.  The outer veins of the penis pulsed blood into the cock head.  The seven-plus inch penis continuously pulsed as blood kept forcing its way into the glands and shaft.  The doctor then turned his attention to me.  He stared in amazement at my erection.  The penis towered above my pubes and balls.  As I was now secured to the table, he motioned the guards to leave except for one who was to stand at attention at the door expressionless holding his Kalashnikov.

Dr Frankin wheeled a cart full of instruments over to the table.  I looked at the cart.  My eyes began to blur.  I started breathing ever so harder as the pills took more effect.  He took a large black ball-gag off the cart and placed it into my mouth.  Saliva quickly engulfed the gag.  It tasted like it was soaking in cum and piss.  The taste almost made me vomit.  After the gag was in place he grabbed a tube of lube.  Squeezing a large dollop onto his two middle fingers, he then reached down below my ball sack and forcibly poked his fingers into my anus.  He heavily coated the inside of my hole with the lube.  My semi hairy pecs heaved up and down with fear.  I tried to struggle against the straps.  I grunted as he inserted his fingers as far as they could go.

“Very good,” he said as I could tell this is something that he enjoyed doing.  Frankin then took a large electro anal probe off the cart.  It was a long thick metallic device with a ball on the end of it.  Separating my semi-hairy glutes with one hand, he fully inserted the 8 inch probe deep into my anus.  I arched my back when he finally shoved it all the way in. My penis now involuntarily pulsed.  He noticed this and looked at it, and raised an eyebrow and then looked at my face.

“You’re homosexual.” He whispered with a smile.  “The response from your cock just gave you away.”  He then began to laugh.  “When I do this with straight men, their penises struggle to stay erect.  That’s why I quadruple the dosage in the pill that erects the penis.  For you my friend, the time that we are going to spend together will be extremely painful for you.”

I looked at him with wide, bulging eyes, now with the most sorrowful of appeals.  He was right.  I’m gay. And I knew if that part of me was to ever be exposed, that it would be the thing they would concentrate the most on to break me.

“Don’t look at me with those compassionate eyes, you American faggot.  They must breed fags for the American military and CIA as I have interrogated at least 40 of your kind.  But that’s ok with me Mr. Agent, because I like a good cock every now and then myself.”

I looked at him in complete horror.  Sweat was now pouring out of my chest and forehead.  The hair on my head was now drenched in sweat.

“I should have figured… this hot body of yours and all.  Not many men pay this much attention to their physique.  If I were to guess you are in your mid 30s.  You are very, very good looking for a man in your 30s.”   I think I am going to enjoy this now.

Frankin then grabbed 3 metal cock rings that had wing nuts as tighteners.  He slipped one down to the base of my penis.  It was shrouded in pubes.  He tightened it very hard making the veins pop out even more.  As he tightened the wing nut it caught some of the pubes.  The second cock ring was placed mid way down the shaft and firmly tightened.  By now, the penis was turning a lighter shade of red.  He then saw what I just noticed, a tiny bead of pre-cum sat atop of the penis slit.  My head swirled in a fog as the pills started to really hit me hard.  The last ring was fastened just under the cock head.  He cinched that one very tight, bloating the head to painful proportions.

Frankin then took from his cart twenty metal clamps with wires attached to them.  My nipples were clamped, causing an immediate sting.  I could barely scream and drool leaked from both sides of my mouth.  He fastened the clamps to my upper and lower abs, my navel, bushy armpits, inner thighs, four toes, one clamp on each side of my cock and balls and two just below my balls with one literally resting in the large metal electro plug.  He could now see tears coming from my eyes, and I was shaking my head slowly.

He came near my head and resting his hand on the top of my head, sort of to console me in a sadistic sick like way.  “My dear American hunk… why the tears?  I haven’t even begun to turn the dials on the machine.  I am sure you and your kinky gay friends must have done this for fun, so why do you fear this now?”

With my head now spinning from fear, the situation I was in was far different then some leather-dude using a violet wand on my cock for fun.

Frankin then returned to business at hand.  He had one final attachment to insert.  He grabbed a long thin flexible plastic like tube, also with an electrical wire attached to the end of it.  He again took the tube of lube, and inserted the plastic tube down the opening of the lube.  He pulled it out with a full coating of clear shiny lubrication.

Even though my mind was in a fog, I knew what he was going to do.  He was going to insert that electro tube down my penis slit.  I struggled the best I could to protest, but my struggles caused most of the clamps to dig even harder into my skin forcing me to immediately stop the resistance.

The sinister doctor firmly held my marble hard cock and with the other hand he inserted the long tube down my urethra.  I felt the urethra stretch in pain as he slowly but steadily fed the lubed tube down deep, past the erected shaft eventually poking the prostate.

“There.  The more you move America faggot the more the tube will twist, and I am sure you know the consequences when that happens.  And I have one last thing.  Those succulent enormous testicles of yours need to be stretched.”  Frankin took a black leather parachute from the cart and fastened it around my hairy scrotum.  The parachute was really tight and he pulled it to make sure the sack was entirely engulfed by the chute.  He attached a chain to the linked chains of the parachute.  The chain he attached must have been at least three feet.  He hooked it to the large wench that was bolted at the end of the table between my feet.  Frankin then sinisterly hand cranked the wench and it slowly took up the slack of the chain.  The shivers now started to overcome my body.  The wench finally swallowed up the slack and now the tightening began and the bull balls felt the pull.  The thick cords inside my scrotum re-awoke the ball bashing pain of an hour ago.  The dull ache became hardened pain.  The stretcher showed no mercy as the balls were stretched.  My rock hard “cock ringed” penis began to slowly point towards a 45 degree angle as the nuts were pulled away from my body.  The epididymis strained painfully inside my ball sack.  The testicles smashed against each other as the wench made its final turn.  The chain was extremely tight.  By now pre-cum was oozing out of the penis slit, circling around the cock tube.  It was collecting around the first electro-cock ring.

Noticing the abundance of pre-cum, Frankin smirked, “And as you may know American faggot, that pre-cum makes an excellent electro conductor.”  With his hand he grabbed the sensitive cock head smearing the pre-cum up and down my erection.  I only moaned now in total pain.  The clamps were stinging my skin.  The plug was punishing my ass.  The cock rings were like a vice on my man tool.  The parachute was pulling the fuck out of my huge balls.  But the worst was the cock tube.  I had never experienced sounds or tubes or anything down my urethra, the pain from that alone is unbearable.   Sweat, tears, saliva and the shivers came from my body.

The torture doctor then attached the wires from the clamps, butt plug, and cock rings to the electro machine.  He pulled up a stool and sat in front of the machine which was now relocated right near the table.  He then put on pair of glasses so he could read and monitor the dials on the machine.  He flipped a switch on the olive green 1950s era looking device which to me looked like it was built for the sole purpose of electro torture.  The machine began to hum.  The indicator needles above the 4 dials snapped to life.  Without giving any notice he began moving the first dial.  The dials ranged from 1 to 10.  I instantly felt a tingle on my erected penis.  Then that tingle got more intense.  Suddenly he worked another dial, and the plug sent electrical shocks throughout my anus and prostate.  My butt muscles immediately clenched the plug and I raised my ass off the table.  My penis was still tingling, and a dull ache started to consume the rock hard erection.  Frankin then turned the dial connected to the clamps to 5, which sent horrid shock waves throughout my body.  I smelled my chest and pubic hair burn during the 15 seconds of the clamp punishment.  He stopped the cock shocks, and turned up the dial on the butt plug from 4 to 7.  My ass muscles went into a complete spasm.  In fact, the clamp that was touching the plug butt that was attached to the skin between the balls and ass also picked up the charge and sent additional shocks into my balls.  I’m sure the doctor didn’t plan on that added little torture bonus.  A stinky liquid coupled with sweat now oozed from my ass and slowly dripped onto the table.  The liquid was heating up causing additional discomfort.  As the ass continued with the intense shocks, he revved up the clamps again.  I withstood 20 seconds at position 5 again.  My body jumped, and fought against the leather straps.  Copious amount of saliva gushed out of the sides of my mouth.  The smell of burning chest and pubic hear now filled the room.  Frankin turned off the plug and clamp dials.  He allowed me to rest for a couple of minutes.  My chest was pounding as I drew in air to my lungs.

A knock came at the door.  Frankin stood up and motioned to the guard to let the person in.  The guard opened the door, and entered the shirtless man with the big chest.  He’s the man who had administered his punches.

“Greetings Bernardo,” welcomed Frankin in Spanish.  He told Bernardo that I was a homosexual, and for that he is applying a more intense interrogation regiment.

Bernardo laughed and responded in Spanish that my name was Ken Richardson a 36 year old CIA agent.  He said they went through my duffle bag, and discovered many things that they need answers to.  So Bernardo insisted that Frankin add an additional time to the punishment as well.  Frankin happily agreed, and said in Spanish that he will inject me with a serum that will keep me from passing out.  Bernardo then asked if he could observe for a while and Frankin again nodded his head.

“So Ken, “ smirked the doctor, “you have had a long enough rest.”  And with that he turned the dials that were connected to my cock and to the tube that went down my shaft up to position 6.  My dick instantly turned beet red and jerked and flopped out of control.  The pain was so intense my eyes rolled to the back of my head.  Every muscle in my body tensed up.  My tongue was gagging on the ball gag.  The dick torture lasted for at least 20 seconds.  He turned the dials down to position 2.  He looked up at Bernardo, who stood a couple of feet way.  His hands folded in front of him, staring at my tortured body.  He was fixated on my large erection.  He then looked back at Frankin motioning him to continue.  Frankin turned the clamp dial to 4 and the plug dial 8.  I was now receiving shock torture from all connections.  It was now that I began to lose consciousness.

“Inject him!” demanded Bernardo, “keep him awake!”

The doctor jumped from the stool and went to a cabinet to fetch the syringe.  It was a long syringe with the round hooks on the end so his thumb and pinky figure can stabilize it during the injection.  He poked the long needle into my pubes just above and to the right of the erection.

“AWWW!” screamed the doctor, and he quickly withdrew the needle.  “Damn, he shocked me!!  Electricity went up the damn needle!”  He snapped off the machine, and my body slumped, but my penis still twitched.  He then completed the injection.  I felt a cool liquid enter my body around my pelvis.  It soon overtook my body, forcing me to be keenly aware of my surroundings.  I blinked and looked around.  I saw the doctor sit back in front of the machine.  I then noticed Bernardo.  I shook my head trying with plead with him.  He just smiled back at me, and then looked down my sweaty torso.

Zap! Zap! Zap!  3 super intense jolts, (it must have been at position 10) shocked my penis and urethra.  I banged my head against the hard wooden table in response.  Then again… zap! Zap! Zap! Zap!.. 4 intense shocks to the same area. Then, he did that 5 consecutive times.  He did this until he reached 10 consecutive shocks to the cock as a whole.  The burning pubes now really stank up the room.  The butt plug and clamps were next.  Also at position 10, the clamps stung my entire body from the toes to the burned nipples.  He kept the plug at position 5, and kept that at a constant electrical stream.              Without notice while the zaps continued throughout the clamps, he grabbed a hold the cock, not touching the metal rings, and jerked out the cock tube.  The tube was now yellowish-orange in color and spotty chunks of blood also clung to it.  My penis was still fully rock hard.  He returned to the machine, and turned off the clamps.  He turned the plug dial to 7 and made it pulse electricity into my ass.  The cock dial was also turned to 7 in pulse mode as well.  He made it so the pulses were not synchronized.  The constant butt and cock shocks started to induce the beginnings of an orgasm.  That fucking bastard was going to force an ejaculation!  Mother fuck I thought, this is going to be the ultimate in pain if my prostate is forced to pump semen up my battered and punished cock.  The pulses got more intense, zapping the prostate.  My butt muscles clenched the plug ever so tightly.  Bernardo watched intensely.  He knew that Frankin was going to force a painful orgasm out of me.  Frankin turned the dials to 8.  My cock now began to twitch preparing for an ejaculation, transferring the electro shocks from tortured pain to manipulating the prostate muscles for an explosive milking session.

I couldn’t hold the muscles back anymore.  I violently shook my head from side to side, spraying sweat from my hair everywhere.  The flying sweat even hit Bernardo.  I cried in agony through the ball gag.  I was so loud it was like the ball gag wasn’t in my mouth anymore.

The dials were finally switched to nine, the machine started to rock back and forth as it was starting to show signs of fatigue for being on so long.  My prostate couldn’t handle it anymore, gobs of semen exploded from my cock.  The cum acted like tiny shards of glass as it shot up the cock like fire balls.  One, two, three, four, five ropes of cum shot out of my cock head landing as far as mid way down the table.  That was followed by three lesser shots of cum landing on my balls.  Then cum just dribbled from my cock head and down the shaft.  The sadistic doctor watched with Bernardo in amazement.  They broke me, and they knew they did.  The electro pulses continued after my endless torridly painful orgasm.  He then switched off the machine and I slumped against the table from exhaustion.

“Excellent work Frankin,” chirped Bernardo in English.  “I am sure you’ll finish up with him with whatever you do.  And you say he is homosexual?”

Frankin nodded his head smiling, as he uncaringly ripped out the plug from my ass.

“That is disgusting!” Bernardo exclaimed in English again looking at the plug which was smeared with sweat, lube, and shit.

“Would you care to lick it?” laughed Frankin in English.

Bernardo covered his nose and shook his head as he left the room.

The doctor then unclamped me.  Some of the clamps did leave slight burns on my abs, nips and on the inner thighs.  The cock rings were removed next and visible shock rings were left behind.  The cum smell mixed with the burned pubes could have made anyone gag.  He didn’t bother to clean my fully erect shaft has it was covered in semen.  Finally he loosened the wench and the stretched balls slapped against my body still in the parachute.  That was unfastened and now I lay there spread eagled.  He took out the gag, and my jaw ached in pain for being forced open for so long.

“Guard,” summoned Frankin, “get some help as I need assistance in putting Mr. Richardson in lock down.”

The guard put down his gun and exited the room.  He soon brought back two other guards who assisted in releasing me from the straps.  One of the guards swung my legs to one side of the table and brought me to my feet.  I quickly collapsed as the punishment was so severe I couldn’t even hold myself up.  The guards brought me upright.  My erect cock bobbled around dripping cum residue on the floor.

“Mother fuck this guy stinks,” said one guard in Spanish as he tried holding me up.

“Take him to cell 9.  He should enjoy the company that is in that cell.  And take these as well.  He will need to wear something when his hard-on subsides which should be in about 5 hours or so.”  Frankin chuckled as he tossed the guards some worn bikini briefs.  “A gay man should enjoy wearing those sexy white briefs.”

I was then dragged naked down the hall, my cock bobbing up and down every step of the way.  We reached the end of the hall and entered another locked metal door.  We descended down another flight of stairs now deep inside the bunker.  On this floor there was nothing but cells.  Ten cells on each side.  They seemed to be half full.  I could barely look at the prisoners inside these cells.  Some stood close the bars.  They seemed to be mostly white men only wearing briefs.  Of the occupied cells, it seemed there were two men to each cell.  I couldn’t help but be embarrassed as these men, interested in seeing who was being brought in having that enormous rock hard erection.  They could tell I just came from a hellish torture session.  I knew along with them that it wasn’t going to be the last torture session either.  Someone loved doing this to men, and that man was Lopez.  I reached my cell and they unlocked the doors.  We entered and they threw me onto the smelly stained mattress cot across from another dude.  They threw me on my stomach and that’s where I laid.  They then threw the white briefs at me which landed on the small of my back.  The doors of the cell shuddered to a close and the guards marched away.


To be continued …


NOTE: This story is completely fictitious and was written for amusement purposes only. All characters are well over 18 years of age.


Metal would like to thank Joemal for this story. You can find Joemal on Recon.


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