The Interrogation

The meeting was extra ordinarily ordinary ... and boring to tears.

In the beginning, Commander Gage Hewitt of the Royal Australian Navy was awed by his role in Operation Hammerstroke. As part of ANZUS, the three countries worked closely together developing defensive and offensive plans to safeguard against the rising tide of terrorism and Islamic extremism. His part - particle physics and cryogenic electronics - was a vital piece in the project.

The Australian commander ran a hand through his short, dark hair and rubbed his eyes. The presenter continued droning on. When is this bloody idiot going to shut up? He wondered to himself.

About 6 feet tall, Gage had blue-green eyes in a tanned and ruggedly handsome face. His Navy uniform strained across his muscular torso and his trousers clung to powerful legs.

Finally, the presenter finished. Thank God it was the final meeting of the conference. Hewitt was looking forward to some relaxation in town before heading back to the naval base in Cockburn Sound.
* * *

Gage returned to the quarters assigned to him, showered, shaved and slid into a pair of tight, faded jeans. He slipped a soft, pale red cotton sweater over his head and sat on the edge of the bed to pull on a pair of comfortable boots. Hewitt grabbed jacket, keys and wallet and headed out the door.

* * *

After days of fluorescent lights, terrible food and uncomfortable seating, the restaurant was heaven on earth. Gage sat in a corner booth, sinking into the soft leather with a sigh. He ordered a gin and tonic and sat back admiring the passersby with a direct and discerning gaze. The waiter returned with an additional drink and put it down in front of him.

"Sorry mate, that's not mine."

The waiter grinned at him. "Well, the lady at the bar seems to think it is."

Hewitt turned around in the booth to see a ravishing titian-haired beauty smile at him and raise her glass. He returned the smile and gestured to her to join him. She glided over.

Well, well, well ... patience is a virtue ... looks like spending all that time at the conference wasn't a waste after all ....

* * *
Hewitt came awake slowly and painfully. The last thing he remembered was going back with Zia to her hotel room. He tried to get rub the sleep out of his eyes, but found he couldn't move his arm. With a start, he found himself immobilized on a steel device in the middle of a large room.

Gage was bound onto what could only be described as a crooked cross. He was stretched out on a padded incline bench with leather straps around waist, thighs and calves to hold him in place. A metal crosspiece held his arms out from his sides, nearly parallel to the floor. Thick, soft leather restraints were locked onto his wrists and ankles and prevented his movements.

A cold chill crept up his spine. In addition to being imprisoned as he was, Hewitt discovered that all of his body hair had been removed. He was not particularly hirsute to begin with, but now all he could see was a smooth, unbroken expanse of tanned skin. Further, a heavy steel cockring encircled his manhood, engorged and swollen with need. He put his head back and closed his eyes. What the hell is happening to me?

He opened his eyes to receive another shock. Suspended above him was a mirror. He could see that his hair had been buzzed down to a short stubble and he sported about a 7-day growth of beard. The edges of the facial hair had been expertly trimmed and served to accentuate the planes of his face and the squareness of his jawline. A soft leather collar was locked about his neck. It was snug, but not uncomfortably so, and he found his reflection to be alarmingly arousing. As the commander felt himself grow even larger with desire, he could see and feel his slit being blocked by some metal device and something large, hard and pleasantly warm filling his ass. A slow throb originated from whatever device was placed there and a wave of pleasure spread throughout his body. It repeated every few minutes.

A Voice crackled into life over a hidden loudspeaker.

"Commander, we know you were recently present at a high level conference. What was the codename for the project being discussed, who were the attendees and what exactly does this operation entail?"

Gage twitched in his bonds.

"Gage Hewitt, Commander, Royal Australian Navy. Serial number 0781244."

The Voice gave an evil chuckle.

"Oh, stop it, Commander. The Geneva conventions don't apply here. And you are certainly not in uniform. At least not a uniform recognized by the Geneva convention."

The Voice continued.

"You can also forget about being rescued. For all intents and purposes - you are dead. There was a horrific car crash and the burned body could only be identified by dental records. Yours."

"We have no desire to cause any permanent damage, Commander Hewitt. Just answer our questions, and you'll be released."

Silence.

Gage caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see someone entering the room. What could only be a Gaoler approached him. The trim and muscular man was wearing some type of padded body armor which encased him from head to toe in a slick black sheath. Heavy boots covered his lower legs and feet, and a blank, black visage was eyeless beneath a full-face respirator. Padded black leather gloves covered his hands. The jailer was silent except for sound of his breathing through the facemask. Hewitt was both viscerally frightened and deeply aroused at same time.
The Voice again asked him for the requested information and again was met with a stony silence.

The Voice sighed. "We will break you Commander. Make no mistake of that. For your own good, please cooperate. We have absolutely no desire to inflict any permanent damage upon you."

Hewitt glared at Gaoler. He worked enough saliva into his dry mouth to spit at his captor.

"Very well, we will continue with the interrogation. Gag him and proceed."

The Jailer approached the commander holding a rubber strap with a rounded protuberance at its center. Gage twisted his head and struggled, but the other man grabbed his jaw and forced it open. He inserted the bulbous extension into his mouth and fastened the strap tightly around his head. Hewitt tried to spit the invading material from his mouth but failed. In the mirror above, he saw a length of rubber tubing with a squeeze bulb coming out of gag. The Gaoler began to pump the bulb and the ball inside his mouth rapidly inflated. The process continued until the ball filled his mouth and he could only mumble and moan.

Hewitt's captor stripped off the thick gloves to show a thin pair of black latex gloves underneath. The rubber was so tight that the commander could see nail impressions beneath the ebon surface. Gage watched the other man as he moved across the room and wheeled a small table from the far end over to the side of the cross.

The first thing that the commander noticed was the other man removing a foil packet from a box. He tore it open and Gage could smell the sharp tang of isopropyl alcohol. The jailer swabbed Hewitt's hard firm nips with the pad and then showed the captive Australian a needle. His eyes widened in shock.

The man in black grasped a hard nip in his gloved hand and clamped a tool onto it. He then pushed the needle through. The pain was incredible. The commander could only mumble and scream into the gag. A steel ring was inserted through the new opening. The Jailer picked up miniature blowtorch, ignited it and welded the steel ring shut. He then proceeded to the other nip and duplicated the procedure. Afterwards, the captor gently wiped the few tiny drops of blood off his muscular torso. Gage looked up at himself in the mirror - gagged, his chest heaving and, now with silvery circles a permanent part of himself.

"Commander - will you answer our questions now?"

Gage thrashed his head from side to side. He couldn't believe what was happening to him. He gasped through his nostrils as the Jailer firmly tugged on rings. The pain was exquisite. The other man caressed the deep ridge running between Hewitt's slabbed pecs.

The faceless captor took out another alcohol pad and removed the stopper from his slit. The alcohol burned as he cleaned the head of the swollen cock. He showed Gage a different shaped and larger needle. The Commander's eyes rolled back into his head as he spiraled again down into blackness.

* * *

A strong, almost painful jolt that coursed through the electrode in his ass forced the commander back to consciousness. Across from his captive position he saw two-wall size projections of muscular men engaging in sex to his left and to his right. Looking up into the mirror showed the extent of the changes wrought upon him so far by his unknown kidnappers. The two steel rings piercing his nipples lay on his chest and the rifts and plateaus of his now-hairless six pack looked even more shredded than before. A large matching ring had been pierced through the head of his still-erect cock and the steel prison around both shaft and sac added a noticeable weight to his package. The sensation of the heated steel against his skin was intoxicating and he moaned in the painfully pleasurable feelings running through his body. The gag had been removed.

Directly above and in front of him was a countdown clock. The time read 6:52:15:33.

Gage tried to arch his back as another wave of pleasure/pain swept through him via the electrode. The ring through his cock shifted from side to side as his member grew more turgid with desire.

"Hello again, Commander. Did you have a nice nap? Please note we have initiated procedures at the next level of your interrogation. Your body has been exposed to several chemicals over the past two weeks (two weeks?!?) and is getting a steady transdermal dose through the collar around your neck and the restraints on your wrists and ankles. We have now introduced a gas into the chamber. This gas, combined with those chemicals, will produce irreversible changes - physically and psychologically - in less than 7 hours."

Gage closed his eyes. Tears began to form and dripped down his cheeks.

"What MORE must we do? Commander, tell us what we want to know ... please."

Hewitt shook his head.

The captive Navy man heard the clank of a door and opened his eyes. The Gaoler was again in room. He stood silently alert. One movie on a wall now showed a scene of two Royal Navy officers undressing. The two exchanged passionate kisses between them. Gage's already rigid shaft became even harder - the pain was terrible, but he was unable to cum. He longed to grab his cock and stroke himself in rhythm with the brutal thrusting going on in front of him. Staring at the thick ring through his piss slit awakened strange feelings in Hewitt at a visceral level. The erotic scenes unwinding in front of him reminded Gage of his CO - Captain Davies. The commander fantasized about being raped by his tall, blue-eyed, blonde haired superior. He imagined that the ring through his cock was chained to the ring on his collar ... tugging painfully as his captain penetrated him ... Gage stopped - shocked at his thoughts.

The Voice chuckled. "Oh yes, commander - we have only just started your interrogation. And the feelings you are experiencing now are only the faintest hint of what you will soon become."

The Gaoler approached prisoner again. Once more, he removed his gloves to expose black latex-clad hands. He took a large bottle from table and returned to stand beside the prisoner. He pulled open the spout and poured an oily substance from bottle onto the trembling prisoner and began to rub it gently onto all the exposed areas. The Jailer started at Hewitt's chest and moved up towards shoulders, neck and face, down arms, down torso - into the rifts and plateaus of his abs - down his legs and onto the exposed shaft and balls. Gage was amazed at the other man's delicate touch. He almost felt that the captor was smiling beneath the featureless mask. Exhausted from the treatment so far, the Commander leaned head back as the other man continued to massage him with the lubricant.

After a time, Hewitt felt him manipulating the object in his ass and with a "plop" it was removed. The Commander felt a gentle tap on leg and opened his eyes to view the large metal butt plug that had filled him for days. Without the electrode within him, he felt strangely empty. Silently, the Jailer ran a latex-clad finger around his trembling rim. One digit penetrated his hole. Then two. Again, the only sound heard in the room was the rasping breaths of the prisoner and the quiet noise of the the captor's respirator opening and closing. The Commander wanted more. Needed more. He began to wonder if his jailer's hand would invade him and fill his aching need. Again, Gage was shocked at the thoughts running through his mind. The Gaoler removed his digits and poured more oil onto his hand and spread it onto and into pucker of the prisoner.

"The lubricant being spread on you, Commander will have its effect in a few moments. The compounds in it will begin to sensitize every nerve ending in your skin."

The Voice paused. "Proceed."

The Jailer began to gently stroke along Gage's jaw and down his neck. Hewitt felt his skin aflame from that light touch - pleasure/pain exploded like a red-hot ribbon as Gaoler touched him. The Interrogator continued the torture by caressing captive man; Gage was insensate with a kaleidoscope of sensation and desire. The sexual images on the screens were being etched into his consciousness as the captor's touch burned all coherent thought from his mind.

The stroking stopped. Hewitt looked at the Gaoler with need in his eyes.

"More." He whispered. The commander strained within his bonds to maintain the friction on his skin and the waves of pleasure and pain exploding in his mind.

"Don't stop."

The Jailer pressed a button and the lower cross arms moved up and out to stretch Gage's legs wide and to expose the Commander's shivering pucker.

The Gaoler opened the crotch of his body armor and pulled out a massive member. It too had a large pierced ring at its end - the balls and cock too were trapped in a circular metal prison. The captor poured oil onto his shaft and rubbed it in. He stepped into the area between the trembling, muscular legs of the captive Commander.
The Jailer placed his glans at the hairless pucker of the man bound in front of him. Gage's mind went blank in a white-hot explosion as skin touched skin. He felt the massive tool penetrating him and the Gaoler's rubber-clad hands massaging his tight muscular legs as thrust after mind-bending thrust continued.

After what seemed like an eternity, Gage heard the Jailer's muffled scream through the respirator as he pushed deeply inside of him and exploded. After uncounted days, Gage too felt himself swell and erupt. A geyser of white arced into the air and splattered onto his naked form. He gulped air rapidly, trying to regain his breath after the interrogator's rape. His hands clenched and unclenched spasmodically. Hewitt was shocked to feel the interrogator's hands slide into his own and give them a squeeze.

The interrogator pulled out of Gage and again, the Australian was beset with the terrible feeling of emptiness within him. He looked at the countdown clock.

3:02:05:15

My God - he's been fucking me for 3 hours!

The Jailer pushed the sleeve of armor up to reveal a muscled, latex clad arm. The thought of the man in front of him encased in skin tight rubber beneath the armor was dizzying.
The captor spread more lubricant on his hand and up his arm. Once more, a digit invaded Hewitt's hole. Then two. The massage was incredible. Gage watched in mirror above him as three, then four digits penetrate him. The Interrogator was slow and gentle, rotating his hand in and around. Again, the man had become silent. He withdrew. Gage tried to follow the hand and fill himself up once again. Tears streamed down his face; the Commander was humiliated by his own weakness.

The Gaoler then tucked his thumb beneath the outstretched fingers and again pushed into captive commander.

"Oh dearest God..." Gage breathed as he saw the other's hand, then wrist disappear inside him. It looked like a massive black cock was invading him. The Gaoler continued the massage and Gage watched in shock as the rubbered forearm twisted and turned and penetrated deeper and deeper within him. The other's elbow vanished. The commander moaned in shock as the arm up to the latex-clad bicep was now inside of him. The sensation was beyond ecstasy. The Interrogator continued the deep fisting as Gage squirmed in pleasure. Finally, he withdrew his arm. The commander whimpered at sudden emptiness within him.

From beneath the cross, the Jailer held up a massive black rubber plug - even larger than the metal electrode that had been his constant companion since the start of his imprisonment. The Interrogator poured the lubricant onto the huge item and smoothed it around to create an even, slick surface. Gage screamed as the giant plug was slowly but inevitably forced into his hole. His shrieks rose to a crescendo as the widest part of the plug passed his sphincter - and he felt as if he was being ripped in half. Finally, Hewitt sensed the base of the plug rest against his asscheeks and wept in agony. His breath came in rapid, uneven gasps. Each inhalation caused the plug to shift inside his body. The pain was intense.

But the Interrogator wasn't finished.

The Gaoler bent the flat, circular base of the tool and pushed the plug ever deeper inside the captive. Gage was spent; he could only whimper at the continued invasion. The Interrogator smoothed out the flange of the huge plug now completely within the commander and withdrew his fingers. The Commander's asscheeks closed over the huge object within him as he again spun into unconsciousness.

* * *
0:45:22:15

Gage again struggled to wakefulness. The room was deathly silent and the lights had been dimmed. The movies had stopped. At this point his world revolved around only two things: the huge plug in his ass and the burning need to release himself sexually. This time, however, he found that he was no longer bound to the cross - while the leather restraints remained locked around his neck and extremities, he was free to move about the room. He searched around his prison cell - the jingle of the locks on his restraints and his ragged breathing making the only sounds in the silence. At the far end, Hewitt spied a darker rectangle of blackness - a door, perhaps or maybe a passageway. His bare feet made no sound as he crept stealthily forward and into the doorway.

The other room was darker and colder. He felt air currents prickle against his bare skin as he moved deeper into the next cell. Suddenly, the door behind him hissed shut and a spotlight was directed to a figure pinned captive on a cross similar to own.

The man bound to the cross was younger and thinner than himself - he was similarly shaved and an inflatable gag was strapped around his mouth. He stared at Hewitt - terror and desperation in his pale grey eyes. He grunted. The younger man saw Hewitt's pierced and engorged manhood and began to moan even louder

The cross moved of it's own volition - spreading the younger man's legs up and apart. A second spotlight highlighted a table identical to the one in his own cell. Two items were present. A pair of shoulder-length black latex gloves and a large bottle of the lubricant.

"I think you know what to do, Commander..."

* * *

0:02:22:56

Gage sat on the floor propped against the younger man's cross - exhausted in mind, body and soul. He had brutalized the younger man; and after the fifth time, he lost count. His stamina was prodigious. He shifted on the warm concrete floor - he had grown accustomed to the huge plug in his chute and reveled in the thought of the massive rubber object within him. Despite his fatigue, his cock began to stir and harden again.

Once both he and the younger captive had been spent by the repeated rapes, Gage slathered more lubricant onto his arms and pulled on the long gloves. He added additional lubricant to the surface of the gloves and then savagely penetrated the other. The younger man's screams were muffled by the gag, but they grew in intensity as he moved deeper within the bound captive. At some point, they stopped - he saw a look of calm (or perhaps shock) settle on the other's face as his rubber-clad elbow passed into him.

The lubricant was like a drug - it was a drug - he had again spread it all over himself and then his victim to experience the rush of sensation that would come with it.

"Commander..." The Voice.

He was so weary he didn't even raise his head.

"Commander ... there is less than 3 minutes left ... this is your final chance to cooperate. What have you to gain by torturing yourself?"

Gage watched the clock count down. He stared stupidly at the glowing numerals above him as they clicked to the final value of "00:00:00:00". A crack of light appeared on the wall across from Hewitt and grew to reveal a lighted corridor.

"Go ahead Commander. You are now free to leave."

Gage slowly got to his feet and moved towards the light. It was a regular corridor - one you would see in any office building - fluorescent panels overhead and industrial carpeting beneath his bare feet.

At the end of the corridor stood two doors. The Interrogator was in front of one of them. This time, however, he was without his respirator. The black mask covered his entire face save his mouth. The other man had full, sensuous lips set in a small, unhappy line.

"Behind that other door ..." he pointed "... is a locker room. You can get dressed in your uniform and be driven back to your base. We have a scenario developed that you were in a coma for over two weeks in a small Outback hospital. No one will ever know what occurred here."

The man had a deep tenor that sent tendrils of raw emotion through the bone-weary commander.

The Jailer paused. "Should you go through that door, you will never see me after today, Gage. Nor will you ever again feel me hold you. Nor experience the intimacy we have shared .... Now ... make your choice."

Hewitt moved towards the locker room door. He got as far as putting his hand on the latch.

But he couldn't turn it. He couldn't go back.

He turned to the interrogator and wrapped him in a crushing embrace. He began to weep. The other man held him closely and tenderly, stroking his muscled back and kissing softly around his stubbled jawline.

"I was hoping you'd change your mind, love..."

Gage stared into the blank face and smiling lips. "The meeting was called for Operation Hammerstroke. It's about setting up a network of satellites with particle beam weaponry. The attendees were ..."

"Shhh. We already know. It was more important to see what decision you came to than any information that you possessed. You made the right choice."

He put a muscled arm around the other's naked torso and opened the door behind him.

"C'mon ... let's get you dressed and out of those fetters..."

* * *

A sharp knock at the door and Gage popped his head into the office.

"You asked to see me, sir?"

"Sure did. Come in Gage, have a seat. And stop calling me 'sir' - it makes me feel old."

Hewitt chuckled as he sauntered into the office. Gage Hewitt was not the same man that had entered the Complex four months earlier. He was leaner, stronger, more vicious and more ruthless than he had ever been. He kept his head nearly shorn and the short, designer stubble still covered his strong jaw. An unfortunate training accident had left him with a narrow gash bisecting his eye socket - the deep red scar lent him an air of restrained brutality.

He wore a combination of mesh and injected kevlar body armor which did little to hide the incredible muscularity of his frame. Tight black leather cycle pants hugged every curve of his legs and red MX boots enveloped his calves and feet in armor-like protection. He sat down.

"Gage, I need to go back to the States for a few months. In the interim, I'm turning over command of the Complex to you."

"Me?"

The other man laughed. "Of course, you! Why did you think we made such an effort to recruit you? You were one incredibly stubborn bastard, you know that?"

He lit a cigarette and blew smoke towards the ceiling.

"We weren't sure until that last minute that we made the right choice."

"Thank you sir, I'll do my best."

"I know you will. And what did I tell you about using 'sir'? Don't you think it's about time that you used my Christian name?"

The soldier grinned. "I guess so ... Xander..."

* * *

One of the sites I surf on a regular basis is Mr. S - there's always something that's interesting there and something to put on my wish list. When I saw the Forcefield Armor there, the person wearing it was in the position of Gage in the story. The one being tortured. There was something absolutely arousing to see someone with a spandex hood and respirator in that suit. I don't know what it is, but it really, really, turned my crank.

I wanted to turn the tables - so to speak - on that tableau and wanted that faceless, silent Interrogator to twist someone around and break them. Surprisingly, the concept of Gage being subverted was due to my watching "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers". Don't laugh - there was one musical number about the Sabine Women. THAT got me thinking about this story. Now, I hope you put a couple of facts together here - at the very end of the story, we find out that the person running this Facility is no other than Xander Cannon - scientist, genetically-altered porn star and in the employ of an extremely powerful crime lord. This, I hope, will be the basis of some future stories - what exactly does this Facility do? Whom do they recruit? And why?

Also, for some reason, I've been feeling particularly aggressive lately. I can't pin it down to any particular reason, but I am. I'm waiting to try this outfit out with my partner - not any of the really rough stuff, but definitely the oil massage and having my way with my lover. I know it's going to be a turnon for him. He blew a load just looking at the pictures!