Chapter 5 – The Most Uncomfortable Torture Scene Ever Written
Sarah had noticed something strange. After a certain amount of time, FBI agents would appear in whatever room she’d been fighting in. Then, she’d make a break for the portal, and be fairly safe for a while. But why couldn’t they also go through the portal? They seemed to have no problem eventually getting to her next destination. Why didn’t they just come through immediately, and in huge numbers? And how the heck did the portals work anyway? Was there a way to navigate through this labrynth?
She wanted answers, and soon an opportunity presented itself. A lone agent had been knocked out an arms length from a portal. She’d grabbed him, dragged him through, and then immediately opened a service door and gotten herself lost in the guts of the building. After that it was just a matter of making the right preparations.
***
The Agent woke up, hands secured tightly to the deradicalization chair, soaked from the bucket of water she’d thrown on his face. “Oh God,” he said, “where am I? What are you going to do to me?”
Sarah did a double take, temporarily thrown by the oddly enthusiastic look on his face. “I need some answers, and -“
“Please don’t crush my testicles with your stillettos.”
Sarah paused. “I haven’t threatened you with anything. Also, are you smiling?”
“I swear I’ll tell you nothing, not even if you crush my head between your strong thighs, Mommy” he said, breathlessly.
“What are you talking about? Stop,” she responded, “I’m not doing that.”
“Oh,” he said, crestfallen. Then he perked up again. “Well, you could probably get me to talk by strangling me with my own belt. Oh gosh, I can’t believe I accidentally gave you the perfect torture method.” He hadn’t said please with his mouth, but his eyes begged.
“What the hell dude.”
“Well fine then, my lips are sealed,” the agent responded, looking away in a huff.
Sensing that the now sullen agent really wasn’t going to talk, she slapped his face. His head turned to the side, eyes rolling back, a look of sublime pleasure on his face, before it was wiped away with a calculated look of horror that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You’ll have to hit me harder to get the answers out of me.”
“Oh for fuck sakes,” Sarah exclaimed as she slapped him with all her might.
“Just a little more,” he said. “So, so close…”.
“Why do you guys only show up after I’ve been in an area for a few minutes. And why don’t you just send everybody at once,” she screamed at him. Sensing he wasn’t going to talk she slapped him hard again, pretending not to notice the look of exquisite pleasure on his face.
“Okay fine. Fine. I’ll talk. The reason we don’t all go through the portals at once is because of bureaucratic red tape.”
“But why? I’m destroying you all one floor at a time. Why can’t you make an exception?”
“I’ll never say, not even if you choke the information out of me by using this belt I’m wearing, skillfully keeping me at the point where I can’t breath, but also don’t pass out.”
“For crying out loud, why?” While Sarah felt incredibly dirty, she knew she had no other option. She ignored the groans of pleasure poorly disguised as anguish and the small, but distinct bulge in the agents pants as she removed his belt and then retied it around his neck. When he struggled to say something she temporarily loosened up the belt and asked him to repeat himself.
“I said,” he caught his breath, “that pegging me with a strap on would REALLY show me who’s boss.”
“Why don’t you agents follow me through the portals?” She screamed into his ear, ignoring his thinly veiled request while tightening the belt.
“No authorization,” he said between gasps, “and… officer safety… first.”
In between between slaps and chokes he mentioned that each transfer required a separate authorization, a destination clearance, a staffing review, and a risk assessment. The paperwork alone could take hours. In the meantime, all they could send out was a small expeditiary team. And if that failed, a slightly larger one, and so on and so forth.
The sheer stupidity gave Sarah hope.
“How do the portals work? Can I navigate through them non-randomly? I need to find my boyfriend, where are they keeping him and how do I get there?”
She asked, but the agent had grown sullen again. Even a hard slap didn’t get a rise out of him.
“You can’t just keep slapping and choking me. It’s all foreplay, no payoff.”
“Before I ask you any more questions, could you please tell me what your major malfunction is? Did I luck into the weirdest FBI agent in the world, or are you all like this?”
“I’m an FBI agent, honey, of course I’m all kinds of fucked up. Our instution was founded by J. Edgar Hoover, a crossdressing fag who was in a relationship with the Vice President of the FBI, Louis Nichols, both of whom were being blackmailed by Meyer Lansky. Do you think we recruit normal people? Even if we did, you think they’d hang around when they see what we do?
“Lady, we’re on Epstein Island trying to murder a seventeen year old, and if we don’t succeed, our orders are to cover up all the evidence of the Mossad blackmail operation here. If we let normal heterosexuals into this operation we’d be dealing with whistleblowers left right and center.
“Consider yourself lucky that I’m into femdom. Most of my coworkers are gay. Getting information from them would be like squeezing blood from a stone. “
“I see.” Sarah considered his words for a second. “Thank you for your honesty, I guess.”
“No problem.”
Sarah was silent a while. “So,” she continued, in a halting, unsure tone “do you, or do you not know where my boyfriend is being held, and how I can get to him and then out of here.”
“I’ll never tell. Not unless you step on my balls while looking me in the eye and making me call you my Dommy Mommy before smothering me with those breasts and – “
“Well, that’s not happening.”
“Fuck you, bitch.”
“Look, let’s talk to each other like a pair of grownups. I have this,” she pulled out her rifle from an apparently invisible knapsack, “and I’ll shoot you in the head if you don’t give me the information that I want. If you do, I’ll just leave.”
“Whatever, I was going mostly soft anyway. You suck at BDSM.”
“Great, so get talking. Where is Johnny Gigachad being kept?”
“Hmm. Gigachad. I think that’s the one that Lindsay Graham requested.”
“Requested? Requested for what?”
“He usually prefers trannies, but occasionally likes normal men to pound him in the ass.”
“But how? Gigachad isn’t gay, he wouldn’t even be capable of getting an erection, let alone using it on the Republican senator.”
The agent chuckled. “You don’t understand. He’s been blindfolded, tortured, and plied with enough viagra to kill a horse. Sooner or later he’ll give in and thrust those hips.”
“You sick fucks.”
“Enough torture and everyone cracks. Don’t take it personally, kid.”
“Where is he?”
“Does it matter. You’ll never save him in time.”
“WHERE IS HE?!” She said this part like Christian Bale in Batman Returns as she slapped him again. It was pretty metal.
“Okay. Okay. Go down two rooms from here and hit the red switch. That’ll open up the right portal.”
“He’s in the next room.”
“No, you crazy bitch, you’re barely a third of the way through this game. You’ve got a bunch of tastefully designed encounters remaining.”
“But I will eventually find him.”
“If you survive? You’ll find what’s left of him. He’ll be institutionally gay by that point.”
“I’ve heard enough. I’m leaving. But before I do,” she pulled the gun back out.
“WAIT,” he screamed. “You bitch. You promised me you’d let me live.”
“There’s a simple explanation for that.” She paused, letting the anticipation build. Nothing between them remained but silence. An ocean of quiet hung in the air. A galaxy of nothing. One beat. Two beats. Three beats. Rounding in on half a minute. Finally her mouth opened, slowly, his eyes widening as she deined to give him the one true answer.
“I lied.”
He opened, then closed his mouth. “So, was there like a punchline there or…”
“I was trying to come up with a cool line and it didn’t quite happen for me. Would you rather I shot you quickly instead?”
“No, and in fact I have a very good reason for you to let me live.”
“Which is?”
“I’ll be like Gollum from the Lord Of The Rings. You know, the part where they spare his life and he shows up again and saves the day.”
“Saves the day? Doesn’t he bite off Frodo’s finger? Is that what you’re going to do to me?”
“Only if you’re into that kind of thing.”
“I’m not.”
“Right, what I’m saying that I’ve gotten a lot of screentime already. It would be tremendously unsatisfying to the audience if you let me go and then I didn’t do something that ended up saving you later. Like narrative blue balls. It’d just be cruel.”
“That’s true. You have me there.” With that she loosened up the ropes binding him to the chair and left. He’d have his part to play later, she was sure of it.
