by Sarah Forth
A - Too Clever by Half
I did try to bluster when they first came to ‘deal with me’. It was soon obvious that my affair with Sandra was not what he wanted to know about. He was interested in how much I had found out about his finances. I tried to threaten him with exposure if he took any action against me, promising dire consequences if the secret account of my investigations should be made public, implying that I possessed far more evidence than I really had. I had taken some precautions to protect myself but that only confirmed him in his determination to remove me completely as a rival or a danger. They did try asking their questions but I had no intention of letting him know how much I could prove, nor even how much I knew so they soon moved on to other methods. They tried the painful things first. They kept me naked and locked in while a series of his bully boys asked me questions and hit me about. I have always kept myself pretty fit, my army training had prepared me to cope with the usual rough stuff so I felt pretty sure that I could resist although I did convince them that I needed to be alive and in contact with someone to ensure that my knowledge of his secrets was not made public. Inside, I knew it would be months before anything could happen, before anyone would even start asking questions about me and by then he might have been able to cover his tracks. I had made contingency plans. But my security had depended on keeping everything I was doing completely secret from everyone. Yes there were coded messages around on several different computer systems which would be triggered if I didn’t type in my over-ride codes at monthly intervals. But because I had been so determined to get all the credit for the story myself, they would mean very little to anyone for months. B wanted to know exactly how much I knew, where I kept my evidence and how it would be revealed if they couldn’t break me. Sometimes, I knew that he was there as well, watching, prompting the questions, enjoying watching as they hit me.
I don’t enjoy pain. I’m not one of those freaks who go out of their way to get themselves hurt and then get off on it. I have met a few of them - there was at least one of them at my school, a permanent victim who invited victimisation. But I have learned how to cope with it, up to a point. If the pain is sufficiently sharp, I can use it as a focus, can concentrate my attention on it to the exclusion of everything else and blot out my surroundings. And through that sort of concentration I can cope with it - it was part of my training anyway to develop such techniques. So I was able to take their batterings without much problem - certainly there was nothing they could do to shake out any information from me. The bully boys who enjoy causing pain get really frustrated when that pain has no effect. They seem to get disillusioned so quickly when they get no response. They seem to get their pleasure from the victim’s cries for mercy, for relief. And since I could stand the pain, there was no chance that I would give them that satisfaction. He could see that their frustration was more likely to make them go over the top, that causing me ever greater pain was only going to cause permanent damage, even kill me and I had already convinced him that I was too dangerous to just kill. So after a few days of useless pummelling, they turned to other methods.
I was taken to another room, with no furniture at all, still naked. That part didn’t worry me at all. My body may not be large but I was not ashamed of it. Indeed there was nothing to be ashamed of. I was healthy, kept myself in good shape through exercise so I didn’t carry fat and blubber like his thugs. At that time, given an opportunity to have a go at one of them at a time, I felt sure that I could take care of myself. I was not entirely without hope of coping with two of them if I could just catch the first one off guard. But they were always very alert and careful. For days they gave me only dry bread to eat and kept me without water and sleep, surrounding me with ‘white noise’ whenever I was left alone. I was allowed to suck a damp cloth when they thought that I had given them a useful piece of information and as the time went on, I did get sufficiently desperate to reveal just a little. More often though, I tricked them into giving me a break with another lie or just a half truth. Since they could not really know how much was true and what I was making up or guessing, I frequently got a little relief without giving anything away. After about three or four days of that treatment, I was incapable of knowing what was true and what was fiction anyway so they gave up and tried something else.
B - An Error
The ordinary methods didn’t work with him. Perhaps it was his training or his self-confidence. He was able to distance himself from what was happening to him, accept the pain with a depressing degree of stoicism, control the natural inclination of most people in that position to just tell everything and get it over. And he managed to maintain that arrogant behaviour whatever they did, making me even more determined to break him completely. It was difficult to see the source of the inner strength which allowed him to cope so successfully with our treatment of him. Whatever it was, it enabled him to hold us at a distance, to delay and obfuscate so that it was impossible to tell how much he knew and what we could do to stop him. I know that he had attended a public school and had served in one of the toughest regiments so I suppose I didn’t really expect to break him with just physical force. He isn’t very big but he is wiry and tough as well as being fit. But I wanted him to suffer and the chance to inflict a bit of pain was rewarding in itself. Even so, I needed to get inside his head as soon as possible, in case he really could blow the whistle as loudly as he threatened. I have a tame expert in hypnosis who might have been useful but in his opinion A was not a suitable subject at that time. Apparently, if we could really dent his self-confidence at some point, it would be possible to work with him but until he lost some of his determination to resist, he would be unlikely to give us anything worthwhile. The lack of sleep trick and the shortage of water had not seemed very promising even when they started it. I was pretty sure that he would be able to cope with it but I was also sure that once we stopped it, we might get some clue about the things he really feared. We had established that it wasn’t pain, filth or the sort of creepy crawlies which sometimes get even grown men in a panic. And he gave us just that clue when one of my dumb helpers made what might otherwise have been a disastrous mistake.
A - The mistake
They gave up the violence and loss of sleep treatment quite suddenly and I heard him tell them to take me off to some other room. I was blindfolded and led away along corridors, up and down stairs, round all sorts of obstacles until eventually I was pushed into a completely different room. It was such a shock when they took off the blindfold. I stood there, still naked and now stinking after about a week without washing or properly relieving myself, and marvelled at that room. There was a deep piled carpet, sumptuous furnishings and a luxurious looking double bed. Another one of his thugs came in after us and delivered a trolley full of food and drink, and then I was left alone. As soon as they left, I explored. Although the outer door was locked, there was another door, which led into a complete bathroom suite. So, before I even let myself touch the food, I allowed myself the luxury of a shower. The bathroom was almost awash with soaps and cosmetics and I remember thinking that it was obviously used by Sandra or one of his other lady friends. There was nothing masculine to be found. It was a bit degrading to have to shower with a heavily perfumed soap and it took a lot of rinsing afterwards to tone down the smell. Since I wanted to get at the food, before they changed their minds I had to put up with the smell. So I slipped back into the bedroom and poured myself a cup of the coffee before exploring the dishes. Roast meat, boiled potatoes, fresh vegetables, soup, fruit; everything I could want. Only plastic cutlery, of course. It had been so long since I had eaten properly and with no idea how long it would be before I would get another chance to eat, I was a little cautious, eating just a little of the food and then looking for places in the room where I could hide the rest in case I needed it later. That is one of the reasons why I was exploring the cupboards and drawers, apart from the fact that I was looking for something to cover myself with. Although t
he bathroom had been well provided with soaps and cosmetics, the nearest approach to a towel I had been able to find was a towelling bath-robe. It was bright pink with a frilly lace edging and if I hadn’t been so angry with him for what he was and had been doing to me and with myself for letting myself get caught so easily, I would have had some conscience about using it as a towel at all. What I wanted was a shirt or some trousers, even a pair of pyjamas would have been welcome since I rather fancied my chances of getting away from that room. But the wardrobes only contained dresses, skirts and blouses while the drawers were filled with knickers and petticoats and useless women’s underwear. I did find a little electric razor and used it to remove some of the week-long growth of stubble from my face. And a little pair of nail scissors which might be useful as a weapon if I could get close enough to a throat. But there was nothing even remotely like a pair of trousers, and there was no way that I was going to make myself look ridiculous by putting on a dress or anything like that. So I stayed naked - after all, they had already seen me naked for a week, had watched me perform every bodily function in front of them so why should I bother to hide myself. Especially as they had already used the genital bashing process without success.
I went to the window and found that they had put me just two floors up. The room overlooked a large grassy park and to my surprise, the window could be opened. Outside the window there was a difficult but not impossible climb down. But I knew that was too tired to try it then, particularly without clothes. So I closed the window as quietly as possible and resolved to find some way, as soon as I had slept, of getting some clothes so that I could get away. I felt so tired. If I could only rest for a bit, I might be able to take out one of the guards and steal some clothes.
B - Breakthrough
It was about three hours before I found out what those fools had done. Instead of putting him on the top floor, in the room that we had prepared for him, they had locked him in Sandra’s bedroom! They had locked the door but the windows were totally unprotected. I was sure that we would have lost him so I sent four of them to examine the outer fences, with radios to co-ordinate the search, and rushed up with another of them to see if we could spot him or which way he had gone from the bedroom window. For the room just one floor up we had screwed all the windows closed from the outside! It might not be an easy climb from Sandra’s room but he was young and, apart from being tired and suffering from a few bruises, it was well within his capabilities. All right, he was naked when we put him in there but the whole room was filled with clothes. Women’s clothes maybe but there was also plenty of make-up as well. He was bound to have disguised himself and tried to make a break for it. And he still hadn’t told us anything really. There was no telling just how much he really knew and how much was just guesswork. I couldn’t afford to have him roaming about now, not now that I had shown my hand. Someone was going to pay for this blunder. But the big surprise was that he was still there, sound asleep on top of the bed and as naked as he had been since we had taken him. That made me think and gave me the germ of the idea. So I tested him.
A - A failed test
I must have slept for almost a whole day. When I woke up, despite the momentary confusion about where I was, the room was instantly recognisable and it was daylight. But while I had been asleep, something else had happened. I didn’t realise it at first but as soon as I tried to move I felt the covering. When I got out of the bed it was obvious. They had put a long pink satin night-dress on me. Well they could have their fun but I didn’t have to let them enjoy it so I took it off immediately. I threw it into the bathroom and started to look for the food I had saved from the last meal but when I looked at the trolley, it was obvious that it had been replenished. So I enjoyed the food, drank several cups of coffee and then tried to work out how I could get away. Systematically, I went through those wardrobes again. Even Sandra must have some jeans or trousers somewhere, I reckoned. Women’s jeans might not look quite the same as men’s but just to get away I could bear it. And perhaps one of those blouses might look a bit like a shirt?
But Sandra was a very peculiar woman. All of her blouses seemed to be low cut, sleeveless, diaphanous or frilled; unmistakably feminine. And there wasn’t a trace of anything like a pair of trousers. Refreshed after such a good sleep, my mind was working clearly again. I had to have a plan. Getting away would be difficult and dangerous. I guessed that we were at his country estate and I already knew something about it. The grounds of the house were surrounded by a high wall with an electrified wire fence linked to the alarm system. But the house was set within his estate, surrounded by his land which was farmed by his family and well away from public roads. If I were to make a complete escape, I needed to be prepared for a long walk and I could not expect much help even outside the grounds. A naked man would have trouble travelling over the sort of country surrounding the house, quite apart from being pretty noticeable if he did get away. A man dressed in women’s clothes might get some protection from the undergrowth while escaping but was likely to be spotted pretty quickly once he was among ordinary people - unless he was the sort of pervert who dressed up regularly for some weird sort of pleasure. And Sandra’s clothes would provide very little real protection; they were all too fancy and delicate to be much use in that way. I needed some proper clothes and I needed time to get well away before they noticed that I had gone. The best time would be while they were convinced that I was asleep. I might have to wait a long time for the perfect opportunity but there was just a small chance. Perhaps if I could lull them into a false sense of security, convince them that I was still too weak and tired to make a move, I might get one of those thugs on his own. Then, if I could overpower him, I would be able to steal his clothes and get away. That might not get me much time but at least I would have a better chance if I could put some distance between myself and the house. So I went back and lay on the bed as if I was still asleep.
B - Follow through
While he was still asleep, I got the two guards to slip him into one of Sandra’s fancy night-dresses. Then we went through the wardrobes to make sure that there were only really feminine clothes there and set up the small video camera so that we could see what he did when he woke up. I put one of the men outside the door and another in the room next door with the monitor and a recorder. And as soon as he woke up, he revealed himself! I watched the recording several times but it only reinforced what I had guessed. He ripped that night-dress off so fast! I was sure now. This was how we would break him.
A - Too late
There was no chance to overpower them. Two of them came in together and another one stood blocking the door. They grabbed me and held me still and then B followed them in. ‘Didn’t you like Sandra’s night-dress, then? Is it the wrong colour for you or are you getting up? Would you rather have some of her day clothes? Everything you could want is here, skirts, dresses, underwear. Why don’t you start with her bra’ and knickers?’ He was so confident, so sure of himself and his voice had that edge of threat which I had heard him use with people he was able to dominate. Until that moment he had always seemed a little less sure of himself with me.
The one who had been blocking the door came over, holding out a pink brassiere and a pair of pink knickers, offering them to me. The one holding my right arm relaxed his hold just enough to let me break it free and knock the offerings to the floor. But he regained his hold on me and then they held me between them to get those stupid things on me. Although I managed to get them off every time, it did me no good. They called up reinforcements from outside and while I was firmly held, I got another of their knock-out injections. And this whole thing started.
It could only have been a short time later that I recovered, but while I had been under, they had taken full advantage of my inability to resist. The pink bra’ had been fastened round my chest, filled out with stockings as padding. They had put the knickers on me as well but I was also wearing a suspender be
lt and more stockings on my legs. And my feet had been crammed into a pair of high heeled women’s shoes. The knickers, of course, were inadequate to cover my private parts which were clearly visible. I wanted to rip everything off but they had anticipated this. My wrists were tied together behind my back. It was humiliating and I looked ridiculous. Then they started asking me the questions again, reinforcing their power by calling me ‘Sarah’ and interspersing questions with comments about the fact that I was showing my legs and that they liked my knickers. They suggested that perhaps I would like a slip and a skirt to make myself decent. There were three of them as well as B and my wrists were still securely tied so despite my struggles and objections I couldn’t stop them from dressing me in the short white waist slip and a mini-skirt. They made me stand in those heels and pushed me about so that I staggered between them. They were threatening to make me look more like the woman I was if I didn’t answer their questions properly. It was ridiculous that they could treat me like this; I was a grown man, anyone could see that. And yet they behaved towards me as if I were some little girl they had caught in her underwear. And I was so angry, ashamed, humiliated and disoriented that I did tell them just a few of the things which I had been trying to conceal for so long. Somehow it restored some of my self-esteem to demonstrate that I was not the feeble thing they were tormenting, that I had some power even over B and it allowed me to show my defiance. I knew enough to cripple his affairs. I realised almost immediately that I had made a mistake and tried to confuse them with more false information but the damage had been done.