An Elaborate Arrangement Adapted from a story by Crux18
A casual observer would first notice the medical exam table in the center of the small, poorly-lit basement room. The dim light would hide details, but a short look would be enough to show that someone was lying on the table, legs raised and spread in the steel leg stirrups. Bandages on the head and neck were clearly visible in spite of the low light.
Closer inspection would reveal that the patient on the table was a male, with a sweaty and well-muscled body lying helplessly on the table. His raised legs were clamped securely to the steel frame at the ankles. Matching steel cuffs on his wrists were attached to chains hanging from the ceiling, stretching his arms tightly upward and digging cruelly into his wrists.
As the casual observer's eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, further details would resolve into view. The mans eyes, nose, and mouth were exposed but the rest of his head and neck were wrapped in thick gauze. His fingers were clenched, as though futilely trying to resist the pressure of the tight steel cuffs on his wrists. Worse, the chains attached to his wrist cuffs were insidiously not quite long enough to permit his shoulders to touch the exam table. His breathing was shallow, and a bit labored. His body tensed from time to time, as he tried to lift his back off the exam table in an effort to relieve the strain in his shoulders and arms, then sagging back down when the effort became too much. Or struggling to move his legs, desperately trying to soothe the ache there. A low moan sometimes escaped his mouth, a sound of terrified desperation laced with resigned despair.
The man was naked, and the observer's eyes could not fail to notice his exposed genitals. Around the base of his ball sac a wire had been coarsely wrapped, tightly enough that there was no possibility of it slipping loose. A short leader ended in a knot around a ten-pound freeweight, which was hanging down from his trapped testicles. The weight swayed gently with the immobilized man's occasional movements. The balls themselves were pinned beneath the tightly-stretched skin of his scrotum, an angry purplish-red in color. His penis, no doubt a proud specimen when erect, was a shriveled stub. Some sort of probe had been inserted into the slit, small enough to allow urination around it into the bucket placed strategically below the table. It was held in place by tape, with a wire leading away, out of sight below the table.
The observer would begin to notice more of the surroundings. Close to the man's bandaged head hung two plastic tubes which he could easily reach with his mouth, if he so chose. The far ends vanished into a vast array of other tubes and wires forming a maze around the ceiling, walls, and floor of the small room. In one corner stood a video camera, switched off for now, but focused directly on the exam table where the naked patient quietly struggled.
Of course, there could be no casual observer. The mastermind behind this setup had planned far too carefully for such a mishap. The soundproofed basement lay beneath a house set deep in the woods, far removed from any beaten path. No visitors were expected, and even if one were to arrive by chance, the dark lights and forbidding silence would be a powerful deterrent. No sound would escape from the basement to attract unwanted attention. No distractions. Events would unfold exactly as planned.
The man had been lying on the exam table now for only about an hour. The fiery pain in his balls from when the weight had first been dropped had numbed to a dull but ever-present ache, not so difficult to tolerate. Even with that, and his sore arms and tiring legs, all in all he was experiencing more boredom than pain.
With a muted click, bright lights came on in the room. The man squinted apprehensively in the sudden glare, startled at the change. In the light, his physique was revealed in all its glory. Although he appeared to be a middle-aged man, his body was still stunningly well-developed. Light fuzz graced his arms, thickening across his powerful chest and trailing down his flat stomach. All over his body, muscles bulged against his tanned skin, writhing sinuously as he moved. He was an awe-inspiring sight.
Perhaps thirty seconds later, a second click and a whirring noise indicated that the video camera had come to life. The man shifted a little in his bonds, then was hit with the first jolt of current. Wires had been pierced through the soft flesh at the back of his ankles and twisted around the tendons. The current shot between the two leads, coursing up and down the flesh of his legs. Instantly, his muscles cramped, forcing him to stretch his legs even tighter against the unyielding steel clamps. His fingers spasmodically clenched and released while his breath came in heaving gasps and pained screams.
As he desperately writhed in agony, time seemed suspended for the helpless patient. Though the current switched off again after thirty seconds, each of those thirty seconds seemed an eternity to him as he uselessly struggled for even a hint of relief. Stars floated in front of his eyes as he thrashed his bandaged head from side to side, uttering strained gasps and agonized shrieks.
Finally, the end came. His leg muscles relaxed slightly, though they would continue to twitch for some time to come. As he relaxed his arm muscles, sensation came flooding back, sending lightning bolts of pain shooting down his arms. His breathing became heavy sobs, and he did not even notice the quiet click of the camera turning off or the extinguishing of the lights that returned the cell to its former gloom.
The patient now fought powerfully against the restraints, desperately thrashing himself about, heedless of the pain in his limbs. The effort was almost comical, since for all his struggles, there was no escape from the steel clamps around his arms and legs. At last he abandoned the attempt, and once again stood gasping in recovery, all hope completely drained from him.
He lay exhausted in the dimness for some time, then, moaning softly to himself. His balls were undoubtably starting to send up serious messages of distress, and the clamps on his wrists and ankles were cutting into the nerves of his arms and legs. There was nothing he could do to lessen any of the pain. Time passed slowly, and the immobilized man had no choice but to endure.
The next change in the monotony came with almost no warning. His mind had begun to wander, and he found himself starting to doze off. He heard the faintest hint of a hissing noise, then jerked awake as his mouth, nose, and eyes exploded in fiery agony. His last sight before clamping his eyes shut was of a thin nozzle in front of his face - he had been soaked with some kind of mace or pepper spray.
Like before, the patient convulsed in his bonds. He did not notice the brightening of the lights or the reactivation of the video camera. Heedless of the pain, he fought in vain to bring a hand to his face to wipe away the burning liquid. Failing that, he thrashed his head back and forth, trying to gain some relief there. It may have helped a bit, but the damage was already done. It would be some time before his tears and saliva could fully wash away the irritant. He would simply have to endure, coughing, choking, and with tears streaming down his face. Again, time crawled as he suffered, and his every sob, his every anguished cry was recorded by the unfailing camera. Eventually, the lights dimmed again and the camera clicked off. The patient was left once more lying in the dimness, exhaustedly coughing out the final spasms and fearfully awaiting the next episode of his ordeal.
The planner of this event had provided for a number of such diversions for the patient in the coming days, all fully automated and regulated by various timers and switches. All of it would be recorded by the camera. The man's agony was expected to last for about two weeks. By the end of that time, he would be reduced to a quivering wreck whose every nerve sent nothing but bursts of fire to his brain.
The tubes near his face were connected to tanks of water and liquid nourishment. Of course, the patient could always refuse to eat or drink, but the planner knew this was unlikely. Hunger and thirst, combined with the knowledge that food and drink were only inches away, would overcome any resistance he might try to offer. Especially since he would have nothing else to think about for all that time.
The various timers would activate in their course. The most frequent would be the electric jolts through the legs, coming randomly several times a day. Within a day or so, his hands would become completely numb and useless as his wrists tried to bear a strain they were not at all designed for. Before that happened, though, another switch would activate a heating element coiled around his left index finger. The element would remain on until it had burned his finger completely to char, in the process cauterizing the stump that remained. A similar coil was wound around each of the other fingers. One a day they would trigger, for the next nine days. Perhaps he would feel the later ones; perhaps not.
On day three, yet another electrical current would switch on. This one would run through the wire wrapped around his ball sac and connect with the probe in his cock. Unlike the leg current, this would be low-powered, and it would never shut off. Instead, it would steadily grow in intensity. The planner expected that somewhere around day ten or eleven, the current would be strong enough that the heat generated would cook the man's penis and perhaps some of his bowels, too. By then his balls would have gone necrotic and his hands would be devoid of fingers.
Other events included an acid drip onto his naked shoulders, a flame from a gas jet aimed at each nipple, and a periodic whipping on his back from leather straps embedded with shards of glass, attached to a rotating drum. There was a pitching machine mounted on the ceiling of the room, set to randomly emit high-speed baseballs aimed down at his taut stomach. A small tube inserted in his rectum would, when activated, exude more of the chemical irritant the man had already experienced in his eyes onto the tissues of his rectum. And in a later part of the sequence, a tube would open up over each foot, releasing a stream a liquid nitrogen onto his toes.
Throughout it all, the man would be conscious and aware. Sound sleep would be denied him, for the bright ligts would snap him awake one minute before the onset of each event. The mastermind had ensured that none of the individual tortures were lethal, and in fact did not even know what would be the final straw that would push his victim over the edge. But the faithful camera would record all the relevant moments.
It was perhaps ironic, then, that the planner would never see the final videotape. Once all the torments were completed, every switch thrown and reset, the planner would be dead, legs still clamped to the steel stirrups of the examination table and two chains connected to arms that ended in ten blackened stumps. Someday someone might find him, along with the videotape labelled "How I beat cancer to the punch".
The End