Chapter Twenty
Ted Dalton
I understand why dinner has been withheld. I feel the zing of intermittent electrical shocks. Some are brief and merely annoying. Others are gut wrenching, seeming to fry my most intimate areas. Within moments of the first charge I begin to feel nauseous. Any food in my stomach would be quickly given up to the rubber-coated floor.
There is no one in the room. The only sound is of my labored screams of agony...my clamped tongue inhibiting intelligible pleas for mercy. Perspiration begins to form and ironically the moisture seems to enhance the conductivity of whatever it is attached to my n*****s.
The jolts of electricity have the effect of making me squirm and lurch within my tight bondage, doubling the anguish, particularly when I inadvertently tension the co
