By Mister-X / Spartan
When I awoke the next morning, I was noticing the smell of my body. It was the seventh day since I’d arrived here, and I hadn’t washed. Despite this, I was feeling a little better about myself. I figured I’d worked off the two demerits, and I had been able to withstand some awfully extreme bondage and punishment. Those were what I’d paid to go through, though I hadn’t expected them to be this severe. But a frustration was that I hadn’t been able to cum with that chastity device on. I wondered whether it would ever be removed during my stay here.
After the usual feeding and emptying, two guys came to march me to a different room. As if in response to my wonderings, I was put into a cage and all the gear which had been put on me was removed, including the chastity, butt plug and tit clamps, though painstakingly carefully, as before, to ensure that I didn’t have the slightest chance of getting free. I had to be careful not to let out any sound when the tit clamps were removed. Finally I was alone in the locked cage, naked with a raging hard-on. The cage was barely larger than my body. I was given soap and a washrag, and a shower was trained onto my body. I was told that I had one minute to wash and clean.
After the shower was turned off, I was given a towel with which to dry, and the cuffs were then re-attached. A butt plug was inserted, this one having wires attached which led to a machine. The plug was long enough to reach my prostate. Tit clamps were also attached which had similar wires. A strange machine was brought out. One end of it was put over my raging hard-on. This apparently was a milking machine, which I’d heard about but had never seen. The electro machine was turned on, which started sending pleasurable stimulations to the butt plug, tits, and into my prostate. The milking machine was turned on, and it started massaging my penis. In no time I exploded, releasing a huge amount of cum, which was vacuumed out. The guard who attached it had a big smile on his face. After my explosion had finished, both machines still kept working. I was given a cup of water to drink. Soon I exploded again, but without as much cum. And after this, both machines still kept working. I enjoyed the initial release, but this was now starting to become painful. The stimulating electro continued to be on at pleasurable levels.
After my fourth release, the stimulations no longer had any effect, and I was physically exhausted. Finally, both machines were turned off. A guard started putting me back into the now familiar bondage.
After all the gear was put back on, again in their painstakingly careful way, I was led out of the cage and marched down to the play room. I felt much better now that I’d cleaned up, but I wondered what new punishments were planned for me. I soon found out.
The guy in charge of the room said that it was now time to get into choking. He said that, to start with, they would attach a stiff leather strap around my neck. It was measured to be tighter than the neck size I had told them. It was about 4 inches high, so I had to raise my head as far as I could, and there were a few little holes up and down both ends. The strap didn’t meet in front, being a little over an inch short. They brought out some plastic ties, and start fitting them through the holes in the ends of the leather strap. When they’d finished fitting them through, they started pulling them. They put some muscle into it, which brought the ends closer together, and finally when the two ends met, they pushed the ends of the tie up to lock it in place. It was very, very tight, and I was feeling quite feint. I think I lost consciousness briefly. They waited until I was conscious again and adjusting to it, when they brought out something else.
It was a little box-like device which was placed around my neck which had a large screw in the back. The guy started slowly turning the screw, which brought increasing pressure onto my neck. Soon it was to the point where I was starting to choke, and he stopped twisting it. He said that he would leave me like this for a while to get used to the feeling before returning me to my cell. I was feeling dizzy, so I was attached to one of the nearby poles. My ankles had been padlocked together, so I couldn’t walk. It took me some time to get over my dizziness and to steady my breathing through my nose, since the monster plug gag was there as always.
Finally the guy came back, took a good look at me, and said that it looked like I was up to walking back to my cell. My ankles were unlocked, though the foot long chain was still in place as always. We started walking, slowly at first because of the dizziness that I still wasn’t completely over, but steadily, out of the room and down the corridor. As we’d come to other rooms we’d stop to look, giving me a chance to rest a bit. It was the first time for me to observe daytime activities in these other rooms.
The guy kept one hand on the large screw, saying that if I made any attempt to leave, all he had to do was turn the screw slightly and I would lose consciousness. And if he made even a full turn more, it would kill me, so I shouldn’t try to make any sudden moves. I had no intention of doing any of that. After all, bound as I was, how could I make any kind of escape? I had to keep thinking that those of us who paid for this vacation were treated the same as the hard core prisoners who were here against their will.
When the guy would periodically stop at a room to explain what it was being used for, it recalled all the questions that had been asked on my form. I realized that I could be in these rooms in the coming month, being tortured in different ways, depending on what my reactions had been to my tests. As I would look into these rooms I would sometimes see others who were bound as extremely as I was. Judging by the reaction I had gotten when I arrived, that it was rare for anyone to do this voluntarily, I figured these were hard core prisoners.
Sometimes I would hear screams of pain. My thoughts on hearing them were that there was someone who just earned a demerit, and Dr. Gustov would be pleased to deal with them. And considering all the torture that I saw, I was surprised that there was not more screaming.
Periodically there would be a guard whose job seemed to be to see to a block of cells. Sometimes one of these guards was in one of the cells punishing, or torturing, one of the prisoners. When we got to my cell the guard led me inside and set me down on my cot. My ankles were again padlocked. It was the first time I’d seen the day time guard, and he gave me a good looking over, got a big smile on his face, and said that we would be getting to know each other better in the coming weeks. With that he walked away. I wondered what was going to happen to me now.
Soon that guard came back and opened the cell door. He was holding a couple of pieces of rope, one with a noose attached, which he put around my neck. The other end he threw over an overhead beam. He pulled the dangling other end of the noose rope until I was pulled up onto the front half of my feet. Then he tied the rope in place at the back of the cell. He tied the other rope around my handcuffs and pulled them up strappado style to where my hands were approximately the same level as my shoulders, and also tied the rope in place at the back of the cell. I was in pain from several sources. I was apparently going to start being punished in my cell. Then the guard got behind me and turned the garrote screw a slight bit more. I quickly lost consciousness.
When I woke up I was lying down on the cot. I looked around and saw my cell mate staring at me. The noose was still around my neck, the other rope was still tied to my handcuffs, the leather strap was still around my neck, and the garrote was still around my neck, but otherwise neither rope was attached to anything. It was getting toward morning, and others were stirring. Soon food was served, along with the daily emptying.
After all the plates and cups had been gathered up and taken away, there was a lull in activity. I needed the time to adjust. The leather strap, garrote and noose were still tight around my neck, and all the maneuvering around to be fed and emptied had made me dizzy again. I needed to clear my head if I could. This was the time when I was usually removed from my cell to go elsewhere, but this time I was kept in my cell. Then I noticed a group of other guards going around to each cell. They would enter with batons drawn, one would stay outside with his gun drawn, and the guards would start beating each of the two prisoners in the cell with their batons.
Soon they got to our cell and entered. When they got to me, they paused for a minute to look at what I was bound in. When they saw the garrote and the ropes, they smiled. The day guard who had strung me up previously said, “Gringo tourist” and the others laughed. They again attached the noose rope over the beam, securing the other end, and pulled me up onto the front half of my feet and tied the rope securely to an out of reach area. They also tied the rope attached to my handcuffs strappado style as it had been last night. Then they started beating me with their batons. I dared not move for fear of strangling myself. When they finished they were laughing as they left the cell. I was left tied and hanging.
Soon the noise of their beatings died away as they moved on. I didn’t know how long I was going to be left hanging there with the garrote around my neck as well. There wasn’t anything I could do about it. My cell mate and those in other cells were all looking at me. Finally my cell mate wriggled over to me on the floor, used the nearby cell bars to prop himself up, and with the back of his hands reached out to the back of the garrote, making as if to turn it. He looked at me and nodded his head “yes”. I shook my head “no”. He shrugged his shoulders, looked at me, shook his head, and lowered himself back down, wriggling back over to his side of the cell.
I was starting to have a bad feeling that I was going to have to put up with a lot more torture in this cell. My cell mate knew what went on, and I didn’t. That was why he thought I might like to take the quick way out when I had the opportunity to. The guards finished with their punishment and were returning. As they were walking by my cell, the day guard said something, stopped and unlocked it, entering. He came over to me and pulled the other end of the rope, hanging me in the air. He started laughing, and pushed me back and forth so that I was swinging. That noose was getting tighter and tighter, and I finally lost consciousness.
When I finally woke up, I was still strung up, the noose was just as tight as it had gotten when he was pulling the rope. But at least I was standing on the front half of my feet. I had a bad headache, my eyes were bugging out, and I was having trouble breathing. I was afraid that this was just the beginning of my torture in this prison.
No one came by to lower me. I was left like that all day and night. None of the people who had been treating me in the first week and a half came to see me. The next morning when the guard came by with the food, I was still hanging there. When my cell mate wriggled over to get his food, he motioned with his head to me. The guard just shrugged his shoulders and continued feeding my cell mate, then relieving him. Then he walked away. I was just left there hanging.
Later the guard goons came by again to do their baton beatings. When they got into my cell, they first took care of my cell mate, then came over to me and started beating me just as they had the previous day. I again had to be careful not to move. But at least they didn’t try pulling me up off my feet again. Beating over, they left the cell, relocking it behind them.
When they were returning again, the same guard stopped, said something, and came up to me again with a big smile, pulling the rope to hang me in the air again. At least the rope didn’t get any tighter this time, already being as tight as it could get. He was looking at my face with a big smile, laughing at my discomfort, and after I passed out again, he apparently left. Later I woke up standing on my front feet, again with a bad headache, bugged out dry eyes, and a very sore neck. And very hungry, not to mention constipated with a full bladder. This was getting to be a problem.
Again, no one came to see me during the rest of the day. I was wondering if I’d been forgotten, and for how long the guards would keep me from eating, and keep me hanging. For the umpteenth time I was berating myself for actually paying to go through this treatment as a “vacation”.
I’d noticed one of the other night guards had been paying particular attention to me. He would stare at me for a long time on his rounds. I had hoped that he would at least lower me down, but so far he had not done so. Finally in the middle of the night when most of the prisoners were asleep, he quietly opened my cell door and lowered me down, though he kept the tight noose around my neck and the other rope attached to my hand cuffs. I tried thanking him, but he just put me over his shoulder and carried me out of the cell, locking it behind him. I wondered what was going on. He carried me down the corridor toward the torture room, periodically checking for signs of others in the area. I was getting worried that this was going to be the start of a torture session, when he went past this room, and finally took me into a vacant room.
There he positioned me under more overhead metal bars and looped the rope over it. He pulled on the rope until I was again up on the front half of my feet, and he tied the other end to something a distance away. He also tied the rope attached to my hand cuffs up high so that my wrists were pulled back to head level again. Finished, he stepped back and started pawing me. He particularly spent time at my tits, penis and butt. He had a pleased look on his face, and left the room, locking it behind him. I wondered what was in store for me now, since only this guy knows where I am, and his intentions didn’t look too trustworthy. I was still left hanging painfully with that tight garrote around my neck with no idea what was going to happen. But at least I probably wasn’t going to be beaten any more.
A few hours later I heard some scuffling noises outside the room I was in and saw the door open. There were two guards, the one who had furtively moved me here was in front but had his arms painfully pulled behind him by the other guard, the day guard who had pulled the rope to hang me a couple of times, and who also had a baton to beat me. When he saw me he got a big smile again, but before letting the other guard go, he took the key to the room from him and admonished him. The other guard kept saying “si, si” before finally quickly leaving the room. The sadistic guard was then left alone with me. With that big smile, he came over, hit me a few times with his baton on my tits, playfully pulled at the other end of the noose rope, though without hanging me, looked at his watch, and said something in Spanish before leaving. I didn’t have to know Spanish to know what he’d said. I started sweating.
In another few hours the door opened again and there he was, only this time dressed in civilian leathers, not the guard uniform. He looked for all the world like a dom, looking forward to punishing his sub. And that was what I figured he was planning to do. All the time he walked around looking at me, he had this wicked evil smile on his face. He had been carrying a whip, and when he had finished pacing around me, he said a word in Spanish, picked up the whip, and smacked me hard with it. I really felt that whip. Then, crack! went the whip again. And again. And again. He was definitely getting worked up. He went over to the noose rope, undid it, and pulled it up just enough so that I was now on tiptoes and re-tied it. Laughing at my discomfort, he brought out the whip again, and cracked it over my stomach. And again. And again.
I had to do everything I could to avoid moving, since that noose was still extremely tight around my neck, not to mention the garrote. Then he aimed his whip at my tits. I braced myself. Crack! went the whip on my tits. And again. And again. I was screaming into my gag. My screams were like yells of encouragement to him. He went over to the other end of the rope, loosened it and lowered me down onto my flat feet. He went over to the garrote at the back of my neck. I was shaking my head back and forth. He tightened it a slight bit, enough to cause me to start to get dizzy, but not enough for me to pass out. He took a good look at my face and started laughing. Then he got the rope and pulled me back up to where I was on my tiptoes again.
He picked up the whip, aimed it for my tits, and set it cracking across them again. As dizzy as I was, it took a few seconds for the pain to register. He waited for that before doing it again. I was in misery. I even thought that I’d made the wrong decision when my cell mate offered to twist the knob enough to end my life. Finally the guy went over to the rope and pulled it so that I was again hanging in the air. My head started aching, my eyes started bugging out, and my neck started hurting even more. After some seconds, I passed out.
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