The FSRA

Humiliation Cage

I was curled in the small cell after the day of torture, wondering if there was a way to get out of this. My hands were still bound painfully behind my back, and the ring gag was in my mouth. My jaw ached horribly, and my hands were numb.

Exhaustion, more than any pain I had, overcame me, and I slept, leaning against the wall on my side.

I was awakened by the sound of metal scraping, a small opening in my cell door letting light through. A large dog feeding dish was shoved in. It had two bowls, one for food, one for water. The small door in the cell closed. I realized I had not eaten in 24 hours, and slowly struggled in the cramped cell until my head was near the dish.

My ring gag kept me from eating normally. The food was some sort of awful soft mush, and I played with it using my tongue until I was able to get some of it in to my mouth. A day ago I would have retched and refused to eat it, but now I worked hard to get it in my mouth and swallow it. I was pretty sure it was dog food, or something like it.

The water presented a challenge as well, as the ring gag kept me from sucking or drinking. Turning my head sideways allowed me to get little bits of water in my mouth, which I swallowed and then tried again. The whole process of finishing my food and water must have taken an hour, it was so slow. When I was over, I collapsed again in an awkward mass on the floor and slept.

The door opening woke me. Light streamed in, and I blinked under the sudden contrast. The two guards were there, and I began immediately babbling, begging for anything but not another day of torture. The ring gag kept me from being intelligible, though I am sure they new exactly what I meant, what the nature of my begging was. I was dragged out of the cell, and rolled on a cart down to a large concrete room with hoses and drains.

My ankles were bound; I was turned upside down and suspended from a hoist like a carcass in a slaughterhouse. Hoses were turned on me, washing me down, removing caked blood, urine, feces, sweat and dirt from the day before. When I was clean, the guard left for a moment and then returned with a strange device.

It appeared to be a set of metal pipes, jointed together at odd angles. I had no idea what it could be, especially upside down, though I knew it was not going to be fun.

I was lowered, and then dragged over to the pipe frame. Straps hung from the frame and the guards quickly began fastening me to it. It quickly became clear that this thing was like a seat, a chair of sorts, though being a simple metal tube frame; it provided no support, simply restraint.

A single heavy pipe, about two inches wide, had one end resting on the floor and then running up behind my back to above my head. From this "backbone" of the chair, there were two metal pipes extending out horizontal to the floor and angled out at about 120 degrees. At the end, these jointed downward like the legs of a chair. My legs were strapped to these pipes as if I was sitting in a chair, with tight straps at my thighs, knees and ankles.

My waist was strapped in against the backbone pipe, as was my chest, neck and forehead. Two horizontal pipes were adjusted to extend out at the level of my arms, like the crossbeam of a cross. My wrists were untied and my arms were retied to these pipes. As the blood flowed back in to my wrists and hands, the pain surged back, reminding me that there must have been some permanent damage to my hands. They shook uncontrollably and I began sobbing with the pain once again.

I waited affixed to this horrible metal pipe chair, legs and arms spread wide. One of the guards gave me an injection, as I had received the day before. Both guards left and I waited, unable to move, listening to the drip of water in the background, looking at the gray concrete wall in front of me.

The door opened behind me, and I smelled her. My operator had come. The same sweet smell, the same smooth rustle of jeans, and then she appeared before me. A mixture of fear, panic, and desire swept over me once again. I felt, rather than saw, an erection grow between widespread legs. I must have blushed all over, because she leaned down and kissed my cheek lovingly.

"So, I had a good rest last night. I very much enjoyed our session yesterday. I hope you did."

I gurgled a little behind the ring gag and began struggling, jerking against the straps.

"Ah, good. Eager to get started today, I see. We have something special for you today. There was an unexpected... cancellation in the humiliation cage. We shall give it a go, I think."

Her sweet and cruel smile made the panic swell up inside me, and I began jerking against my restraints even harder.

The two guards came in with the cart, lifted my whole framework on to it, and rolled me down the hall. As we rolled past various doors, I heard the faint screaming of another inmate's suffering. This was truly hell. I was rolled in to a room that had almost nothing in it except for some rather complex electrical medical electrical equipment. The guards left and my operator came in.

She was dressed in the same tight fitting black jeans and form fitting black T top she had worn the day before. She was perhaps the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and I felt my mind draining away...

A large box with many color coded wires was secured to the back of my pipe frame. She took one wire, brushing against me as she did so. I could feel her breast slightly, and her lean frame and ribs. I almost forgot what she intended to do, but was reminded as she took the wire, placed a one inch needle on it, and then carefully inserted the needle under my jaw. I yelped with the stabbing pain and struggled a little as she carefully placed the wire behind me and taped it down so it would not move or come loose.

Another wire, and another needle, under the other side of my jaw. The same process repeated. More needles inserted in my neck, the base of my head, between the vertebrae in my spine. My elbows were pierced, an agonizing stab worse than any accidental funny bone impact, my entire arm jerked and burned from the pain. The needles continued to go in to my body, at all the major muscles and joints. Once in, there was no more pain, though the needles in the joints caused horrible agony when first inserted.

Two wires were attached with flat electrodes rather than needles and placed on small straps just below the head of my erect penis, and another at its base. I was completely wired up, though most were taped and strung behind me, making them invisible to someone standing in front of me.

She brought over a huge plastic bag filled with some thick dark semi-liquid substance. A long tube ran from the bottom of it, and as she forced the tube up my nose, she talked.

"Remember all the stuff you spewed out of your body yesterday? Vomit, urine, feces... even a little cum I do believe. Well, this is it! Yep, we don't throw your precious body fluids away. We save them for you, for days like this. All for you. Enjoy it now, its all you will get for a while."

The tube reached in to my stomach, but none of the bag contents flowed in. The bag was hung from a hook on the back of my metal frame, and some sort of device to control the flow of thick liquid attached.

I was rigged up good. A little uncomfortable, but not in any real pain. It wouldn't last though, I just wondered what the "humiliation cage" was. I was about to find out, as a large metal door opened on the other end of the room and I was rolled through it.

I found myself in a small cube, with the concrete wall at my back and a floor-to-ceiling wire mesh fence or separator on the other three sides. I faced out, and saw through to the other side of the mesh. A large open area, almost a gallery of sorts was on three sides of me. Directly in front of me was some sort of panel which faced out toward the gallery. A wire assembly that came out of its back ran over to me and was plugged in to the electrical box on the back of my metal pipe frame.

The purpose of the humiliation chamber began to dawn on me. The dozens of electrodes embedded in my body, with controls from the panel in front of me. A gallery, open space... and there they came... people began wandering in to the gallery to observe me as I sat strapped immobile and spread wide before them.

I couldn't tell for sure, but from the way the people milled around and moved, I was not the only "exhibit" on display that day. Others were also stationed further on. I was one of several available. I waited.

An elderly couple came up to my panel and read something on it. Then the man reached out, and pressed a button. Pain shot through my jaw from one side to the other, and I involuntarily bit down on my ring gag as hard as I could. I grunted, and tasted the coppery taste of blood. The old woman giggled a little, and said "can I try?"

She reached out, and pushed another button. A searing pain shot through my throat and I temporarily gagged, unable to breath. When it finally cleared, I gasped air in and panted heavily.

Just then the outer door opened and a large number of people came in. They were girls, ranging in age from about 16 to 21. They wore school uniforms, plaid skirts, fitted white blouses, and were led by a woman about 30, who gathered them about her. The teacher / guide then gave them a little lecture.

"Girls, girls, pay attention! As you know, you should not be embarrassed or shy. The prisoners you see here are all violent criminals and this is part of their sentence. They are all volunteers, and are receiving significant sentence reductions for their participation. Feel free to browse and experiment, but remember you will all be required to write a one page essay on the neurological reactions you observe."

The girls swarmed around my control panel, reading directions. One blonde cheerleader type said loudly "ooohhh this one says to feed him. Lets try it." The button was pushed and a slight whirrrrrr... announced that thick brown liquid was being pumped in to my stomach. As it was expelled from the tube inside me, I could feel my stomach begin to fill. The knowledge of just what was being forced in to my stomach made me sick, though mercifully the pump cut off before filling my stomach with too much of my previously discarded body fluid.

The girls were talking nonstop, and then suddenly grew excited. They had found something on the control board they wanted to try. A button was pushed.

A pulsing electric shock, quite mild, ran through the electrode on my penis. The pulse was constant, repeating over and over... I could feel the muscles in my penis and deeper in my groin contracting with it. It became a strange mixture of pain and pleasure, and before I knew it I was looking at the crowd of girls, looking at me, and could think of nothing but having them all naked and on top of me. My hips began jerking and I suddenly climaxed, jerking semen out hard, squirting over and over, the electrical impulses providing the strangest stimulation that kept drawing out the orgasm... and then stopped.

That had been the strangest feeling in my life, being brought to an orgasm without being touched, exposed and being watched by a crowd of schoolgirls. I flushed all over, realizing just how exposed I was, simply a toy or experiment for these girls. My body was theirs... waiting for them to experiment with me.

My semen had been caught by a measuring cup on a small pedestal in front of me. I had not noticed it before, but it was obviously there for that specific purpose. I was once again amazed at how sitting here, exposed, humiliated, in pain, and just recovering from a prolonged orgasm, that my erection maintained itself.

Distracted, I didn't realize the girls were about to push more buttons, and the sudden pulse that hit my stomach surprised me. The pain shot from my back around my ribs, and my stomach muscles contracted heavily, forcing a prolonged grunt that became a forced cry as the muscles continued to contract painfully. My cry became a gurgle as I was unable to breathe, the continuing electrical shock forcing my diaphragm to contract and push every milliliter of air out of my lungs. When the shock finally subsided, I sucked air back in with a huge gasp, and let it back out in a scream from the residual pain.

Some of the girls stepped back, horrified by the expression of my pain. A couple looked sick and walked to the side. But a few were busy looking for other buttons, arguing which to push next.

One cute girl with sandy hair, freckles and a young fresh face argued that I should be forced to orgasm again. Others wanted to see what might make me scream the most. An agreement was reached as I watched helplessly... a button was pushed and a shock hit my elbows.

I screamed, loud and long, as the pain spread from my elbows and penetrated my arms. My hands became claws and I strained against the straps so hard they cut in to my skin. Blood trickled from the straps. The pain suddenly stopped, and as I recovered, I saw that the buttons were on some kind of timer. A skinny girl with long dark hair and a dark sultry look about her was still pushing the button, unhappy that my reaction had ceased.

Another button pushed, my knees cramping this time, another scream. This went on for some time, until the sandy haired girl finally got her turn. The pulsing in my penis began again... once again I felt the muscles contracting, the pleasure flooding me, imagining myself with the sandy haired girl, entering her, taking her, writhing with her as my orgasm took me and I spurted out again, filling the measuring jar in front of me with more semen.

"Did you see? Did you see? How he reacted? I think he actually liked that!" she giggled. "I could see everything. Now I know what happens to a guy when they are inside me. I never knew before."

A new group of girls joined the first group. The teacher was with them and made a suggestion.

"Do you see this button? It controls the nerves running to the intestines. It will create a peristalsis, a painful contraction and cramping of the bowels. Try it. Some of you might have experienced a mild form during the enema class we had a few weeks ago."

The button was pushed... and my lower abdomen felt like an iron band had suddenly tightened inside it. The convulsions moved and rippled in a most unpredictable manner. It was the worst cramping pain I had ever experienced and I cried out once again, struggled against my straps and tried begging for mercy. My ring gag prevented me from being understood, but some of the girls seemed excited by the noises I was making.

The cramping went on and on... until suddenly, my bowels let loose with a huge expulsion of diarrhea below me. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I continued making open mouthed cries and babbled after the cramping had subsided.

Some of the girls went on, looking for different exhibits. Two of the girls, the sandy haired cute one, and the dark haired goth one, stayed and began alternating choices. It was obvious they were enjoying the experience more than the others. This wasn't just a learning experience for them, they were actually getting off on my agony, as I struggled and cried and writhed against the pain that traveled from my head, my jaw, arms, hands, chest, legs, and finally ended in another orgasm depositing more semen in the measuring jar. In fact, the dark haired one had begun to reach under her skirt to stimulate herself to my cries.

The sandy haired one noticed what the dark haired one was doing and yelped "Janice! Don't do that, what if someone sees you!"

"Fine... you do it then," Janice replied.

The sandy haired girl looked around, realized they were alone, and slipped one hand under Janice's skirt. "Heather... you are the best. Harder... I want to be hearing him scream when I cum!" Janice slipped a hand under Heather's skirt as well, and I had a perfect view of the two girls engaged in mutual masturbation. Not for long though, as another button was pushed and my eyes closed as I screamed again and again with pain and convulsions in my bowels, stomach, and then involuntarily smashed my jaw down on my ring gag again. The pain was pervasive, complete, and random. I never knew when it would hit again, and it was horrible.

I was screaming from burning electrical pain in my shoulders, elbows and cramped hands when Janice the dark haired one climaxed, grabbing Heather's hand and forcing it in to her all the way. Having achieved her satisfaction, Janice concentrated on Heather, who switched to the penile stimulation once again. I sat and watched Janice get Heather off as the strange electrical pleasure overwhelmed me and forced me to ejaculate once again, dumping another load of semen in to the jar.

Janice and Heather were interrupted, and quickly withdrew their hands from each other's skirts, by a family. A decent looking middle class couple with two kids, both teenagers - a boy and girl. As the two school girls left the room, the family stopped suddenly, seeing me behind the mesh. The woman flushed a deep red.

"Sean... he has... he is aroused..."

Her husband glowered at me as if I was somehow insulting his family by my unmoving exposure of my genitalia. He looked down at the controls, and started flipping switches. As the pain surged through various parts of my body, I groaned, screamed, cried, and shuddered. He finally activated the feeding tube, and more thick brown liquid descended in to my stomach.

"Sean, I didn't expect anything so... decadent. I am not sure I want the kids to see this."

The man looked at her with a strained patience. "Lois, we discussed this, and you agreed. The kids need to see the consequences of being a lowlife criminal. Its a part of life we have protected them from, but they need to see it."

The woman turned aside and mumbled "I suppose..."

The son came up to the control panel, and tried some buttons that were not working at the moment. He hit one that was working well, though, and my stomach and chest constricted again, diaphragm squeezing air out of my lungs with an agonizing groan and wheeze. I almost lost consciousness, until the penile stimulation was applied again, and my hips began bucking, pushing more sperm through and finally squirting a huge load of semen out and in to the receptacle. My groans attracted the woman's attention and she looked again at what was happening.

"Oh. My. God. That stuff in that jar.... it’s... his stuff!"

The daughter pushed my bowel button and the cramping began, making me scream for mercy, until once again my anus opened and expelled what little fluid I had left inside.

"I am leaving," the woman stated emphatically as I gasped for air and attempted to recover.

"Daddy, can we stay longer and play with him?" asked the daughter.

"Lets move on. I am sure there are other exhibits worth looking at." The father guided the family out of the room.

I was losing track of how many times I had ejaculated, but it seemed like a lot, even for me. Half the day was gone, but I could see the jar with my collected semen. It looked like a good 8 ounces, and I was still rock hard. My balls ached, but that was nothing to the lingering pain in the rest of my body. I began to realize that the injection I received had something to do with keeping me erect and producing more than the usual amount of sperm. It also kept me conscious; as I was sure I should have fainted from pain by now.

I was filled to overflowing with the feces/urine mixture pumping in to my stomach, and was relieved when he pump stopped. Nausea swept over me as my stomach rejected the horrible mixture. No one was in the gallery though, and it was wonderful to have a period when I didn't have to suffer.

After a couple of large doses from the feeding bag, it was not surprising when my bladder became filled. I needed to go pretty badly. By this time, the idea of letting loose any body fluid, even in the presence of the watching public, didn't bother me. I had been degraded to the point I didn't give it a second thought.

But, my constant, hard erection made urination difficult. I tried to release my bladder, but nothing much came out. Two young couples came through and began laughing at me and my predicament, and the girls seemed to be fascinated with the penile stimulation button. Climaxing and spewing even more semen to fill the jar was not conducive to urination, either.

Finally, during a lull in the flow of people, I was able to get the flow of urine going. The relief was wonderful, even as the urine pooled below my metal framework chair. But then... the urine must have triggered something. It touched a contact or completed some circuit, because the metal piping to which I was strapped suddenly flowed with an agonizing bolt of high voltage that made me scream louder than ever before. Every muscle in my body tensed and cramped, and my screaming dwindled in to a choking gurgle as I could no longer breathe effectively. This went on for what seemed like an eternity. I was sure I was dead. I knew this was what the electric chair felt like during an execution. My urine was going to kill me, and I wished it would hurry.

Then, as suddenly as it began, the shock ended. My body was soaked with sweat, I was breathing as if I had just run a marathon, and I couldn't see very well because of the flashing in my eyes. My bladder was still half full, but I held it.

Before I could recover completely from this unexpected massive jolt, two couples, men and women in conservative business dress came in to the gallery. They were young, good looking high powered executive types. They were undoubtedly gym members, had great bodies under the conservative suits and were all good looking professional types. It looked like they were out on a martini business lunch, enjoying a local sight, which just happened to be me, humiliated, naked, and in agony, ready to experience more torture at their hands. They began playing with buttons, looking for ones that obtained the most reaction from me, either through severe body contractions or my agonized screams.

The most surprising thing happened. I was in a haze from the rapid series of shocks I had been receiving, but was able to focus enough to see one girl, leaned over the control panel. The skirt from her business suit had been hiked up around her waist, her panties moved aside, and one of the men had unzipped and entered her from behind. Her chest was resting on the control panel, and with each thrust from behind, her breasts briefly pushed one of the buttons, producing a moan, a yelp or a scream from me along with a convulsion in some part of my body.

The couple was looking intently at me, as their sexual movements and rhythm had a direct effect on my agonies. Each thrust caused me pain, and her pleasure. Each wriggle was fun for them, and agony for me. As she began to reach climax, her breasts pressed down on the panel, pushing more buttons, causing increasing agony and screaming from me, and when they climaxed, it was accompanied by a long, guttural cry from my throat as my gut wrenching contractions pushed some of the semi-digested brown filth out of my bowels once again.

As the couple stood and straightened their clothes, I began gasping deeply, recovering from this latest round of humiliation and pain.

"That was incredibly hot! Amy, are you up to trying that?" said the other guy. In response, the other woman lifted her skirt, leaned over the control panel and spread her legs. The process was repeated, with my moans, screams and agonies coordinated with and supplementing their intercourse. Apparently my agony turned them on quite a bit, because they climaxed quickly, much to my relief.

They straightened their clothes, primped their hair, and then moved on, leaving the gallery blessedly empty for a while. Just as they were leaving the room, one of the women ran back, and pushed a last button. The feeder tube was pumping more filth in to my stomach as they left.

I hung from the pipe frame more than sat on it. My involuntary straining and jerking against the straps had cut deeply in to my skin and blood was running over my body, dripping on the floor where it mixed with other fluid emissions from my body. I wondered how long I had been here. All sense of time had left me. Now that I was alone for a moment, waves of humiliation flooded over me. I realized just how degraded I was, in front of anyone and everyone who marched through and decided to participate in my "sentence reduction."

Nausea flooded over me in waves like the humiliation, partly caused by the pain and exhaustion, and partly by the horrible fluids being processed by my stomach and bowels. My bladder was full again, but I dared not relieve myself, having learned what happened earlier. The pain of my distended bladder was bad, very bad, further contributing to the nausea.

Just then a new wave of people entered the gallery, and I steeled myself to once again becoming the degraded pain toy of these random strangers.

Somewhere late in the day I completely lost control over my mind and body, urinating at will in spite of the horrible electrocution that followed. The people in the gallery were no longer people to me, just moving shadows that accompanied my agonies. Just when I began to feel my pounding heart and rasping lungs would give out and I would die, the gallery cleared and guards came in, wheeling my frame out of the cage and back in to the preparation room.

Great bundles of wires were jerked out of me all at once, and more blood streamed down my flesh as I screamed hoarsely once more. Unstrapped from the pipe frame, I collapsed, unable to move. Dragged to the cart, I remained motionless as I was wheeled down the corridor. My wrists were secured behind my back once again. The leather holding my ring gag in place had begun to stretch from the strain, and they tightened it a notch, pulling it back deeper in to my mouth.

I was kicked more than shoved in to the tiny cell, where I noticed for the first time in two days that my erection had subsided. Consciousness faded as the door slammed shut, leaving me in darkness.