The Telemachus Story Archive

The Inventor
By Hooder

The Inventor

../../shimages/hooder/hooder_the inventor.jpg

The man extracted a silver cigarette case from an inside pocket of his long black leather coat. His pale eyes gazed at the prisoner thoughtfully as he tapped the end of it against the case. He took out a lighter and turned it over in long, bony fingers for a few moments, then he lit the cigarette, put the lighter and the case back, and blew out a stream of smoke in obvious pleasure, leaning back in the wooden chair.

“Questions, Karl.” His voice was soft, and he spoke slowly. “Soon I will be asking you some questions – and of course I will remove your gag for that. But I thought we’d have a little chat first. It’s always good to get to know one another, don’t you think?” He smiled.

“Naturally I know a very great deal about you already, but you know nothing about me. So I thought I’d put that right.” He unbuttoned his coat, and as the black leather fell open it revealed a skeletally thin body underneath. He crossed his legs and took a second drag on the cigarette; blue-grey smoke drifted in the beam of the spotlight.

Karl was naked, gagged, his muscular body glistening with sweat, and thick brown leather straps held him down immovably to the wooden table. The overhead light made it difficult to discern details of the man who was casually sitting there smoking, although he could see that he was so painfully thin that Karl could break him in two with a single blow. If only it weren’t for these fucking straps…

“My name is not important, but let’s say it’s Andrei. Yes, Andrei is a good name. My family were farmers, out east, but I was recruited into the military when I was fourteen. I loved it – and I did well.” The end of the cigarette glowed for a moment.

“Then much later, as these things happen, one day I was… amusing myself… with one of the prisoners. I’d gagged him, of course, but his screams were still very loud.” He closed his eyes and smiled, savouring the memory. “Mmm. Yes, they were very loud.” The pale eyes opened again. “And someone came to investigate. Even though that sort of thing went on from time to time, it could still have been a threat to my career, especially as it had been my commanding officer who had walked in and witnessed it. But surprisingly – and happily – he seemed to be impressed by my creativity and my ingenuity. Very impressed, it seems, because a few days later had me transferred to Interrogation.” Leisurely, Andrei blew another plume of smoke.

“Interrogation.” He sighed and smiled slowly. “Some people are concert pianists. Some people are heart surgeons, or artists. They do it usually because they love it, and they have a talent for it. And the best are very, very good at it. So it was with me. I found that I, too, was very very good at it. I took to it like a duck to water. I had found my calling.

“I have always loved solving problems, Karl. And for me one of the most interesting problems of all is how to extract information from someone. The principle is quite simple, of course: you do something to him that he can’t tolerate, then say you will stop doing it if he gives you the information, otherwise you will do it to him again. And again. It’s a system that has been used successfully for a very long time.”

The man smiled and drew on his cigarette. “But for me the fascination is what it is that you do to him. The human body is wonderful – it responds to so many different stimuli. I love to invent things, Karl. Over the years I have invented and refined many, many different methods of extracting information – some of them are still used today by a great number of the world’s governments – they call them ‘Enhanced Interrogation Techniques’. Ha! Westerners and their euphemisms. Of course the vast majority of these are about administering pain; unbearable, agonising, but very controlled, pain.” He picked up a small box from a table, looking at it fondly, and held it so that Karl could see it. “This was one of my very first inventions, and one of which I was very proud. A shame they don’t do patents for this sort of thing – I’d have made a great deal of money out of it. It’s simply an AA battery, a switch, and two wires with very fine needles at their ends. Small, portable, and exceedingly effective. If you have a reasonable grasp of anatomy and know where the nerves are located, and if you insert the needles in exactly the right places, then when you switch the current on you can get whatever information you want. It’s quite wonderful how it makes men scream.”

He put the device down and blew another cloud of smoke across the table, smiling to himself – Karl was sweating more now.

“At other times, something I would do was challenge myself. I would limit my very slow, very patient and very careful attention to just one part of a subject’s body – a single tooth, perhaps, or just one fingernail. I would explore techniques and create devices that would work increasingly effectively on just that one thing. I enjoyed that very much. I was – and still am – always looking for different, interesting interrogation techniques. I will be frank, Karl, I love to see a man suffer.” He gave a Gallic shrug. “You may think that’s perverted, sadistic. And you would be quite right. I have no illusions about myself, and I do not apologise for it. On the contrary, it is who I am, what I am.

Ash fell silently from the end of the cigarette. “It may surprise you, but the subject is always in control during this kind of interrogation. When he has experienced exactly what the stimulus feels like, I offer him a choice: he can either give me the information I want, in which case the interrogation will stop, or, if he refuses – or if he lies – I resume work on him. This continues until he co-operates. So you see, the subject can stop it at any time. He is in control.

“People say that a subject will tell you anything to stop torture, and therefore the information gleaned from it is not reliable. This is not necessarily true; if you have a good reason to suspect that he does actually have the knowledge you want, then – at least in my experience – as long as you make the stimulation sufficiently intense, he will tell you the truth. He will have no choice.”

Andrei pointed to other devices on the table. Karl couldn’t see them properly, but there were small things with what looked like motorised pincers, tiny drills, something that looked like a rubber gas mask with a complicated valve on it, and other items whose function he could not guess at, but whose purpose he knew was to cause pain and suffering.

More smoke drifted through the pool of light. Andrei put the cigarette out and stood up. He took off his leather coat and hung it carefully on the back of the wooden chair. “So, now you know more about me. I think these little chats are important, don’t you? But now it’s time to get to work. I want to try something different today. It’s my latest invention. It may not be effective, and if it isn’t we’ll go back to more tried and tested means.” He indicated the things on the table. “As you see, I have some other devices with me and I can assure you that they are very effective indeed – but as I told you, I like to experiment.” He stepped closer, into the light.

Karl could see the man properly now. He must surely suffer from some inherited disease – without his coat on, the abnormal thinness of his body was clear. His arms were puny, the hands and fingers long and skeletal, and his face was no better: he was totally bald, he had prominent, very pale eyes, and a beaked nose.

“So, first you have to experience what I’m going to do to you. After that, when you have recovered, I will remove your gag and I will ask you my questions. Some of them I know the answers to already, the others I do not. But,” a predatory smile appeared on the thin lips, “you do not know which is which, do you? So be very careful about giving me false information. If you lie to me even once, you will be on that table for much, much longer, even if you then tell me what I want to know. You will have given me permission to indulge myself on you for as long as I wish.”

Karl’s years in the army had taught him about his body, and also how to deal with pain. He knew that he was going to suffer the agonies of hell, but with disciplined concentration and the benefit of his military training there was still a chance that in the end he would endure, a possibility that he would not break.

Andrei moved a larger black box to his end of the table. He took some electrodes from it and stuck them carefully onto Karl’s skin: one on the centre of the perineum, one just above the base of his cock, and one on the inside of each thigh. After straightening the wires, he picked up something that looked like a small suction cup; this was also attached to the box, and had a slightly thicker bundle of wires coming from it.

Karl expected him to explain in gloating, graphic detail what the thing would do to him, but the man did not say a word. He dipped the rubber cup into some gloopy liquid that was in a small bowl, then with bony fingers he lifted Karl’s limp cock and fitted the cup over the end, pulling it down carefully so that it covered the entire cock head. He stood back, checking the position of everything.

A slow smile appeared on his thin lips. “One of my other interests, Karl, is in computing. For a long time I have enjoyed writing code. AI is a wonderful thing. You know about AI, Karl? It learns. What I have done is taken an AI engine and adapted it to my needs. It’s taken me a while, but I think I’m quite happy with it now. All I have to do is press this switch – nothing more. The AI will begin to learn about you. About your responses. About how your nervous system works. I can just sit back and watch.” He shrugged. “Of course it takes some of the hands-on satisfaction out of it for me, but on the other hand it has faster responses and can apply more stimulation, and in far more effective and cunning ways that a human being could ever do. As I say, it’s relatively untested, but you know that I like to experiment.” He smiled again. “So, are you ready?” He placed a finger over the switch.

Karl gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles, steeling himself for the unbearable electric shocks to his cock that he knew were coming.

Andrei pressed the switch.

For a moment nothing happened. Then Karl felt a soft tingling at the tip of his cock. The tingling stopped for a moment, then began again a little lower. The feeling moved slowly down over his cock head, and then around it in waves, like exploring fingertips. It stopped again. Then Karl felt something totally unexpected: it was as if he were being very slowly wanked.

Sex was the very last thing on Karl’s mind right now – his cock was shrivelled through fear – but even so, after a minute it began to stiffen slightly. Bit by bit, as the waves of pleasure moved over the head, the whole thing enlarged. The stimulus was not in the least painful – on the contrary, it felt wonderful. It kept changing: one moment it was like a hand stroking his entire cock, the next he could imagine fingertips rotating around the ridge, then teasing the very tip, then gently stroking the frenulum.

What the fuck was this? Karl still expected an agonising bolt of current to surge through him at any moment, but so far there had been nothing like that at all.

And it was getting him hard. He had no idea how an electrode on his perineum could do it, but he could swear that something smooth was moving in and out of his arse hole too. Despite the hardening of his cock, so far Karl had not felt in the least bit horny, but gradually that was changing: the machine was seducing him slowly but surely. After a few minutes he was aware that his muscles were relaxing and his hips were beginning to thrust.

After ten minutes he was squirming in his restraints like a slut. He knew what the damn machine was planning – to make him cum, and then, immediately after orgasm and when his nervous system was at its most vulnerable and hypersensitive, that was when the agony would begin. Under the gag he cursed the thin man.

He became aware of something new – his balls were being stroked and tickled as well. But Andrei was not doing it; he was just stood there watching with a fascinated expression on his horrible face. How the hell could that thing on the end of his cock and the other electrodes be doing that? He had no idea.

Another ten minutes went by, and Karl was getting very horny indeed. The stimulus was never the same for long enough to become predictable, or for him to get used to it, and try as he might he could not resist what it was doing to him. His cock had been fully erect for some time now, and he knew he was not far from cumming.

Over the next minute the feeling increased, and increased, until there came a point when his muscles tensed and he screwed his eyes shut for one of the best, most powerful, and most explosive orgasms of his life.

The machine stopped. All stimulus ceased completely. Karl’s eyes flew open and he moaned in surprised frustration. Had the thing broken down? But the thin man seemed to be unconcerned. He continued to watch, smiling to himself.

A few seconds later the machine started up again. Waves of pleasure coursed through him once more. Karl sighed in relief and concentrated on what the device was doing to him. Orgasm approached again, more quickly.

This time it brought him closer before it stopped. Karl yelled into the gag and shook his head violently. He pleaded for it to continue, but the machine withheld the orgasm he wanted so badly. It waited until he’d backed off from the edge. Then it began again.

His concentration was focussed on his cock – especially the head – but a remote part of him heard Andrei say, “I have some other business to attend to so I will leave you and this device together for a while. I will be back later, and we will talk.” He stepped back, out of the pool of light, and was gone.

Karl was on the edge again. His cock was waving and jerking in the air, carrying the rubber cup with its devilish electrodes along with it. And the AI in the computer that was controlling it continued to learn, its model changing and adapting, according to the continuous feedback it was getting from the subject. It was mindless, dispassionate. It was programmed to bring a subject as close to orgasm as possible, then to stop, wait for him to recover, and then to repeat the procedure, using what it was learning about the quirks and preferences of this particular nervous system to do it more effectively each time. On and on, in search of absolute perfection.

To Karl, this translated into increasingly ecstatic approaches to an orgasm that was always withheld. The length of time he was kept on the very edge had gradually become longer, to a point, and then had stayed the same; and the time he was permitted to recover between the edges had grown shorter until it, also, had plateaued out. The machine had found both the longest time it could hold him on the precipice of cumming before his heart rate and blood pressure rose to dangerous levels, and the shortest necessary period of rest before it could start on him again. In a little over twenty minutes it had learned how to use Karl’s need for orgasm to torture him as sadistically and as efficiently as possible.

Karl writhed on the table; he was losing his mind. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined that it was possible to need orgasm so desperately – cumming was the only thing he was capable of thinking about. It was the most cock-thrustingly horny and the most violently male thing he’d ever experienced. But he could not stand it. His heart rate was high, his muscles were vibrating like guitar strings. He needed to CUM. Oh fuck, if he didn’t cum in the next five seconds he would go completely insane. He would do anything – anything – for the relief of orgasm. And each time the machine stopped, leaving him suspended on the very brink of ecstasy, he screamed and tore at the restraints, manically trying to reach his cock to finish himself off.

Fifty-five minutes later the thin man returned. Karl didn’t notice, because the little of his mind that was currently left was so fixated on what he could feel that everything else had become irrelevant.

Andrei made an adjustment to the machine. The stimulus changed: now the device kept him constantly close to the edge, but not as close as before. The electric fingertips danced more slowly and more teasingly over the head of his cock.

After a while the fact that the man was back penetrated Karl’s consciousness, though he was in the shadows, keeping further out of the light. The desperate screaming into the gag became equally urgent but slightly less demented moans of need.

“I see you like this machine.” Andrei smiled. “I often find it useful to research my subjects, and in my research about you, Karl, I discovered something that I found very interesting.” He stepped forward, further into the light, and Karl saw that the man was holding a leather hood. “I believe that you have a weakness for certain things.”

Karl struggled as much as he could, but after removing his gag, the man got the hood over his head and strapped on very tightly.

The machine returned to its former cycle of stimulus – almost; it had detected the powerful effect that the leather hood appeared to be having on this subject, and it was adjusting its actions accordingly, to make use of that. Karl’s moans became even more desperate screams each time the stimulus held him on the brink of orgasm for as long as it deemed safe, and then stopped, so that he couldn’t cum.

Again and again Karl was brought to the edge. And then he groaned as he became aware of something else: the cool, unmistakeable feel of boots on his bare body. They started on his chest, moved to his stomach, reached his crotch and stopped. Then his balls and the shaft of his cock were sandwiched between them and some pressure was applied.

The damned machine by itself had been bad enough, but now he was hooded with leather that clung tightly to his face, bringing with it an intense feeling of delicious helplessness that had previously been absent – and he could also feel boots on his bare skin.

Unbidden, images flooded Karl’s mind: first came visions of women he’d had sex with, but as the leather of the hood pressed tightly over his eyes, mouth and face these images were quickly ousted by fantasies of muscular bare-chested guys in tight, bulging black leather jeans and high boots; booted bikers he’d seen passing and had had dark, sexy thoughts about; and most of all the memory of the time early in his military career when that group of officers had singled him out, dragged him round the back of the barracks, and had taken turns to fuck him while the others had stood on his prone, naked, muscular body with their boots or had made him lick them. He’d had to be forced to lick those boots, but once he’d got into it he hadn’t had to be forced for very long. Then they’d pissed all over him. He’d cum, fucking the damp earth.

Every successive cycle was far, far worse than the last. In addition to the usual cumulative effects of edging, the machine was still learning. Over and over it brought him slowly and helplessly to the brink of orgasm, refining its techniques and trying slightly different ones every time to find out which he was most susceptible to, held him there screaming for relief, and then, as if with inhuman sadism, stopped just before he could cum. But it wasn’t human; it was a machine. It was tireless and could continue like this for as long as it was powered.

Karl’s world consisted of his cock, his balls, his arse hole, the hood, and leather boots. It was deeply, intensely, wonderfully pervy, and a fetishist’s idea of absolute heaven. Until the machine stopped.

Karl screamed again. His cock felt fucking enormous and he thought his blue balls were going to explode with the sheer amount of spunk that had built up and was churning in them, demanding release. They, the images in his mind, the boots on his bare skin, the hood pressing over his face, and that damned machine were all of one mind: to make him CUM. But at the same time the AI was making very sure that he couldn’t cum. Very sure indeed.

He had no idea how long this had been going on – he’d lost all track of time ages ago. But suddenly there was a change. The machine went back to its holding mode – keeping him close enough to cumming to be almost the only thing he could think about, but not quite. He felt fingers behind his head and the hood was removed. Saliva ran down from the corners of his mouth. At that moment he was more animal than human.

“Do you want to cum?” The thin man asked. He was slowly caressing a black leather jackboot.

Karl was not capable of replying. He drooled, his head lolling from side to side slowly.

“Ok. I will give you some time to recover. But not too much.” He adjusted the machine further and the electric fingertips slowed even more. Gradually a little rationality returned to Karl’s mind and he was able to think again.

“So, you have seen what this machine does. I am more than happy to switch it on to full again and leave you with it for the rest of the day. And tomorrow, if you would like. I have plenty of other things to occupy my time…”

Karl’s head shook more quickly. He was still hyperventilating. He tried to force himself to calm down.

“Deep, slow breaths. That’s it. Relax.”

Andrei waited until Karl’s breathing was back to a reasonable rate. “Now, you know what your choices are. Do you want to answer my questions, or shall I turn this machine up again? I must admit I’m enjoying this. If you co-operate, I will turn the computer on to its third setting, which will – very slowly – bring you to the most wonderful orgasm you have ever had in your life. Imagine how that would feel.” He rotated a knob slightly and the electric fingers gained a little more enthusiasm. “To help you decide…”

Oh fuck fuck FUCK! He couldn’t begin to deal with this. Pain, yes, perhaps, but this, there was no way. No way at all.

The electric fingers danced slowly over the head of his cock, promising pleasure he needed, at that moment, more than his life. “I will answer your questions! Let me cum!

Andrei looked disappointed. “Are you sure? Shall we try just one more hour?”

NO!” Karl was desperate. “NO! I will answer! I will answer! Oh God, I will tell you what you want!”

“Very well. But please lie to me. I really would like to continue.” The thin man turned the machine down slightly once more.

He put the jackboot down on the table with its twin – they were within easy reach in case he needed them again – then he sat down, lit another cigarette, and switched on the recorder.

“Now, Karl, my questions…”