Please consider supporting NIfty: https://donate.nifty.org/
All comments welcome and emails replied to.
Gay Uniform Slave
Pain and permanence
Part 6
I awoke and completely to my surprise I was in exactly the same position. Tied hands, feet and collar to the same wooden frame and with -- or so it felt, the same dildo up my arse. And gagged. My shirt was soaked everywhere and sweat was still pouring out of me.
It felt as though hours had passed, but I simply had no idea. I looked around, although the collar made this limited, every muscle of my body hurting. I saw the same three men, but each was being serviced by one of my slave colleagues, them kneeling and sucking cocks for all their worth, in uniform and erect themselves, To my complete surprise, I felt my own cock begin to stiffen. It was this movement that cause one of them to notice me.
Oh, he's woken up. Time probably to start again then. The last one managed much more than this. I felt the beginning of an electrical pain spread from my scrotum as the dildo inside started to move again. All my pain receptors were instantly reactivated, but I simply could not help that my cock also became engorged, swollen, enormous and completely rigid. Then a sharp pain shot through me from ankle to opposite wrist and then other way around. I was jerking and involuntarily spasming. I came again, although to my complete surprise, and theirs I thought, this was just as much as the last big one, and nearly reached my mouth. Maybe I had been out for a while, or chemicals had taken effect.
I could not stop sweating and was now thoroughly soaked from head to foot, every fibre of my shirt dripping wet. The pain was continuous and acute, from the top of my head to the soles of my feet jets of pulsing electrical pain shot back and forth. I was spasming and jerking like a rag doll. And then it stopped.
I just had time to breathe -- for a moment -- when I heard one of the say: This is good -- I just came.
Do it to him again.
And again, shouted one of the others.
My terror was complete as electrical sparks burnt their way throughout me from edge to edge, scrotum to cock head to prostrate to neck and back again. Incredibly my cock became hard again, and I felt the blood rising within it and its head becoming purple. One more spurt of electricity straight up my cock -- I realised that they had inserted something into my urethra -- and I shot a load again spurts of cum flying out in all directions as I jerked like an electrocuted man -- which of course was exactly what I was.
I blacked out again. Completely spent.
Overheard
So, said the master, how is this working -- you are not actually doing anything right?
Exactly, said Jenson. It's far better than we expected. In their minds they are provoking what THEY think IT can do. They are choosing to do this -- simply because we - I mean you -- tell them to.
The one who nearly came to death -- every single one of those orgasms was because he instigated it, he caused the electrode to create the stimulus. Even the final one which caused him to lose consciousness.
But he nearly died.
Yes, but he didn't die. He could not command the fatal blow, because a loss of consciousness will always precede that. At least we think so.
Think so?
Yes. Well, this will be the acid test.
If this new half-wit manages to cause himself so much pain that it kills him, we will have to put some kind of limiter on it. But he has already made himself unconscious twice and then resumed torturing himself the minute he wakes up. Plus he heard what you said about organ harvest, I saw his reaction.
But eventually he will cause himself a permanent injury.
That is a risk. But these are electrical pulses and he is completely bound. He cannot cause himself a physical injury -- the whole thing is just in his head. The electrical pulses are exactly the same for each of them -- it is only their own mind, their own expectations, coupled with their desires -- look how even in the middle of all this agony he still chooses to make himself cum -- which change the effects. The fucking machine was an idea to make sure there was something new for him to latch onto. Almost to stop him realising what was going on. It need not be there, he could have done even that for himself.
This is wonderful. What a thing you have created. The implications are enormous.
Yes. We may -- eventually -- even be able to get them to imagine the whole process. We will still need them to believe of course, still a scar in the scrotum and an initial spark, but otherwise the series of hypnosis, drugs, and their own desires to be hurt, humiliated and punished will be enough.
We may as well make use of these that we have though.
Oh yes.
And how much control do we actually have?
Well, we can start it off, and we can give them a simulation which is either pleasure or pain - always seems to cause an erection though. And we can turn the voltage up, and leave it running. But from that moment on, it is what they do to it. Only our words change that.
I woke up to find myself in exactly the same position.
The room was dark. I ached all over and I was still soaked, although the sweat was now cooling. I could not see anyone else in the room. The fucking machine that had caused me so much of my pain had gone, replaced by my butt plug. I was bound everywhere else, as I had been previously.
I wondered whether my being awake would be enough for the punishment to recommence, or even -- without an audience -- whether there would still be a point. I felt broken.
Just then a buzzing inside my scrotum told me that control was not in my hands, and I felt my cock engorging and rising. Stronger and stronger the current became until it switched to my prostrate, back to my balls, cock-ring and then to the bands around my neck, ankles and wrists. As it intensified, I felt the agonising pain begin again and I started to writhe and scream into the ball-gag. The pain became more and more intense, sharper and deeper, each pulse longer and more powerful. My cock became yet more and more rigid and vertical until I felt myself cum again. Another great fountain plume of cum which went over the bottom my shirt and dripped onto my feet, all down my legs. Still the pain did not stop.
After what seemed like twenty minutes of this, and another orgasm, although with less cum this time, the pain subsided a little and I felt myself black out again. Exhaustion, completely spent. I fell into a deep coma-like sleep.
Overheard
Good Christ -- he even does it to himself when he believes himself to be alone and unwatched. What a thing you have created.
You need to get him to the sickbay to stop him killing himself, and use enough words to get him out of this pain mode.
I woke, bound horizontally to a table or board. My arms outstretched, my ankles similarly. My arse full of something -- I no longer knew or really cared. I was wet through, but still wearing my saturated shirt. My collar was attached to the table giving me no opportunity to look down, but I could feel that my cock was still engorged, although I felt spent, wet and tired. I could not really remember anything and my head hurt.
There was something different though. A new pain in my nipples, around my neck, waist and across my chest. My hands were bound and I could not move but as I looked at my sleeve It seemed to move with my arm movements. A strange dread filled me. I tried to twitch my chest, which caused pain, but also I saw that the breast pockets on the shirt moved exactly in tandem. My nipples seemed somehow to control the buttons.
30s awake sir, I heard someone say.
Really? Was the answer. Get him clean and ready for inspection then. Gently -- you know what we've done.
As someone - 24 perhaps - loosened my wrists I had confirmed what I had suspected. My hand went to my neck -- it was true. Somehow, as with 28, they had sewn the shirt onto me, into my flesh. It had literally become part of me. I was filled with a mixture of horror and strange elation.
How do you like that, then?
We saw your reaction when 28 returned. Instantly very upright. You seem very much to like the uniform, so the masters thought to make sure it never left your side! Ha! No getting fat now!
This was a complicated procedure which involved draining your blood and re-transfusing it to ensure that you did not bleed everywhere. You saw what 28 did to himself. All the same there will probably be a permanent tattoo of your shirt's outline on your body -- not that you or anyone else will ever really see that. You might feel a bit tired and dazed for a few hours. But you do look really good.
I had thought I was practically dead and somehow expected some convalescence at least (In fact I have been sedated for a whole day), but what happened next was a rush. I was led to the latrine area where I was sprayed with ice cold water.. My butt plug was removed and I was douched as before, washed, inside and outside of my shirt, and -- or so it felt -- hung out to dry. I realised that each of the buttons on the shirt was now sewn into my skin. They pulled as I moved, the shirt's collar had been stitched together and sewn into my neck at the base of my metal collar. Only a small gap had been left at the back for the cord which they used to tie me into bondage to pass between metal collar and flesh and shirt and metal collar, I realised that they simply intended to leave this there like some hideous backwards tie. My nipples had become fastenings of their own right with the buttons sewn into their ends, through the layers of the material of the shirt's pockets and sticking out prominently on my chest. It all felt incredibly painful and bizarre and yet alluring.
After a while, I felt breezes cooling me and my scrotum started to re-send its signals causing my cock to harden once again. I was dry and my shirt looked clean and perfect once more. I sort-of had to admire their efficiency. From spent, sweat-soaked slave to bright, dry, uniformed servant in one shower and about twenty minutes.
Well, back to work for you, said the officer.