Voluntary Prisoner

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

The Session – Part One

There was no question that I’d present an astounding sight to anyone who could see me now: a fully rubber-encased, harnessed, gas-masked, chained thing: leashed to the floor and ceiling, and connected to a heavy umbilical of hoses and wires leading to the most sensitive areas of its anatomy, standing silently in the middle of a vast, echoing, open space.

The Master Control Switch had been activated for some time and thus the PLC and all the other equipment would at some point begin to operate on its instruction, but I had no idea how soon that point would arrive. Things like the vacuum pumps’ operation and the strength of the vacuum; the e-stim machines’ power levels, pulse rate, and wave form, as well as their intensity and different cycles, would be activated when the PLC’s program dictated. In the past I’d very briefly been able to manage up to 35% of the available power of the e-stim machines, but after even only a few seconds, the extreme sensation and pain instantly forced me to turn the power levels down to a more bearable point. Now though, the PLC was programmed so that it would randomly select a wide range of settings from a mild 5% to a torturing maximum of 80% for short or extended durations and I had no way of knowing what would come, when, or for how long!

I’d programmed the PLC to delay the start of any kind of action until at least 90 minutes had expired, but had let the actual beginning of things to be a random time from that point and so the uncertainty factor was huge. I might have to wait for another hour or two before the session actually commenced and I had no idea how long the process had taken to reach the point I was at now, nor as a consequence, how much longer I had to wait before the ‘entertainment’ by the e-stim, suspension, and vacuum began. For interminable minutes I clip-clopped (although I couldn’t hear the noise) around the small part of the floor that its leash and the overhead suspension cable allowed, tugging experimentally against my wrist’s very effective restraint system and kicking against my hobble chain, staring longingly out through the thick plastic face plate of my gas mask at the inaccessible keys at the other end of the arena. With the umbilical fastened to the back of my collar, and thanks to my arm and hand restraint system, there was no possible way I could get at any of the hoses and cables, and even if I fell or lay down, their fastenings to my equipment would be unaffected. I tried to remain calm despite the continual and growing terror of my breath restriction, but soon I became bored and foolishly wanted something ... anything ... to happen. When I wandered too far from the centre of my allotted freedom, the overhead leash to the back of my collar snapped tight and I felt the warning jerk of the wide collar on my neck. Panicky thoughts that the PLC had malfunctioned blossomed in my mind and I fought to remain calm until, suddenly, the high intensity overhead lights flicked off! I was instantly plunged into total blackness within the light-proofed building, and at the same time a loud wash of impenetrable static began to cascade into my ears! Even though I tried to shake my head what little I could within the grip of the double helmets and snug collars, it was impossible to avoid ... just like everything else that would soon be done to me by the merciless machines.

The vacuum pumps became active and even though at a low suction value, the sensations of the equipment slowly sucking itself tighter and tighter onto my breasts and p***s made me gasp and whine into the gag pad, twisting and writhing while its strength slowly was increased to maximum, then stayed there! All around and inside the deep cups, the spare flesh on my chest and breasts was gradually sucked outward into them and began to engorge with blood flowing into the increasingly distended and painful mounds of sensitive flesh. My n*****s erected against the contact gel-coated electrode disks pressed onto them and I could not help but whimper while my now very sensitive breasts continued to swell painfully further and further into the voracious things clamped onto my chest. At first the tugging sensation was reasonably pleasant, but the unending and now very strong suction quickly became very uncomfortable, then more and more painful, but it was inescapable! I could not stop the whines and gasps of pain that I made.

Below, similarly, my p***s was immediately swallowed and entubed in its entirety by the suckling action of the milking tube and immediately I felt the slow cadence of the simultaneous suck/squeeze-suck/squeeze-suck/squeeze cycling dragging at it without stopping! I couldn’t help my shuddering reaction to this intimate, erotic assault and began to respond automatically; pumping and writhing my hips; for the moment forgetting my breathing difficulties. Without conscious thought, I struggled against my restraints in reaction to the strong sensations; unable to avoid the knowledge that I could not and would not be able to escape it all, no matter what I tried! Even though at the moment I was, for the most part, enjoying the strong sensations of the vacuum, I’d not forgotten that at some point the PLC would begin to unleash high intensity e-stim for unknown durations and frequency, but where it would attack first was unknown and I grew more and more terrified of the wide latitude I’d programmed into it.

My useless, widely-separated hands and fingers clawed at the ends of the separator bar while my arms jerked against their short chains and the restriction of the elbow cuffs, trying to somehow get at either the tormenting breast cups or the leech-like tube that engulfed my manhood, but I’d been far too clever and couldn’t reach either ... exactly as planned.

For long minutes I stumbled blindly around in the blackness until I bumped into the stool, then slowly shuffled around to sit on its hard surface. It was a mistake! I’d wired the stool so that when any weight came on it, my butt plug was immediately activated and a strong course of electro-shocks flowed through it! The central shaft was one electrode and the base ring was the other and the pulsing shocks made my anal sphincter clench and squirm horribly! The electrical shocks were so strong that a spontaneous scream surged from my throat, but was mostly stifled by the bladder of the gag, and completely so by the tight gas mask and the air hoses. My screams of agonised distress remained fully-contained and the huge area of the arena remained very quiet other than for the subdued slither and clicking of my chains. If there had been anyone in the arena near me, they would only have heard very faint cries, but ten metres away it would be totally silent. Someone passing by the barn would see only a silent, well-kept building with a few small security lights on at the corners, under the roof, and have no idea of the terrors taking place inside.

The shocks were so strong that my legs trembled when I automatically jumped to my feet and flung my arms against their restraint network, frantically attempting to get my thickly-gloved fingers at the tormenting equipment, even though I knew it was impossible. For the next eternal 60 seconds I was made to dance frenetically on my hoofed feet, screaming unashamedly while the pulsing, punishing shocks continued to enforce the rule about sitting on the stool. Sometimes it would be OK, but at others, like now, it was forbidden, then punished strongly. Within the minute I was gasping and panting from my desperate efforts, but then the electrical torment at last abated to a semi-bearable level and I could feel the sweat inside the thick inner rubber suit, trickling down my back and front.

The automatic application of the horrific shocks from my butt plug had not altered the rhythm of the milking cycles on my manhood, nor the strong, pulsating suction on my breasts, which, by this point, had swollen enormously into their deep cups. Although I couldn’t see them, they were now coloured a deep red by the hot blood they contained. I had little freedom other than to wander to the length of my leashes, and after a while began to tire of standing and walking in the heavy, awkward hoof boots. I found the stool again, but this time, rather than sit upon it, I just tried to lean against it for some support, but that too was a huge mistake and once more the horrific shocks from the butt plug made me dance and scream madly, driven to desperate weeping by their awful strength and duration. To add to my ‘lesson’, long runs of trilling, needling pulses now began to agonisingly transfix my n*****s!

The awful shocks from the butt plug faded, but did not end, however, now the initially mild but still painful pulses through my distended, super-sensitive breasts began to increase in power! Once more I shook my chest madly to try and escape them, howling with frantic denial, trying anything I could think of to try and stop the horrific shocks, while inside the sealed cups my flesh seemed to be curdling and shuddering all on its own and there was no way I could get at the torturing cups or my body inside them! My n*****s felt as though they were being continually punctured by the horrid, needling shocks, but the pattern changed and the pulses began to rhythmically peak then recede; each peak higher than the previous one! I could not stop the now continuous, automatic howls I attempt to make and my hands and arms flailed frantically against their chains and the separator bar, trying to somehow dislodge the cups even while I writhed my upper body like a decapitated snake. I was absolutely desperate to escape the unending electrical torment, but of course there was no way to avoid it! Even if I could grasp the cups, it would be impossible to extract them from the inner and outer suit’s too small holes, nor would I be able to break them free of the grip of their incredibly strong suction on my breasts. They had become a permanent part of my rubber ensemble. Bent forward, I continued to dance and writhe, howling dementedly into my gag until at last the PLC allowed the shocks to die back, but not entirely stop, so that I was continually aware of my flaring n*****s and still-curdling breast flesh.

Eventually I stood erect once more with my trembling arms hanging down so that the wrist separator bar rested against the top of my crotch cup. By this point, my throat was raw from the desperate attempts I’d made to scream and so tilted my head back to suck some water from the drinking reservoir. It was only a little, but tasted and felt wonderful. Alone in impenetrable blackness, I wondered again and again how much time had passed and what horrors would next be visited upon me by the pitiless PLC. All it did was to follow the program instructions with no concern or sympathy.

It was only a machine.