Here's the next chapter! It's been a while, but I'm glad to be writing a bit more. This is the aftermath of Jeremy's last session from the past few chapters. Chapter 20. Masterlist.
CW: Aftermath of torture, nudity, blood, exhaustion, aftermath of noncon elements, electrocution, bruises, prisoner whumpee, brainwashing.
- - -
Prisoner 326 was deposited less than gracefully onto the floor of his cell by Handler Barrett. The man retrieved a clean pair of shorts and a tshirt from the supply closet and set them on the prisoner’s cot. 326 had earned them.
“Come on now, we need to get you cleaned up. To the shower, 326.”
326 let out a breath as he pulled himself up onto his arms. He was fully ready to collapse into the floor and pass out into delightful unconsciousness, but this wasn’t over yet. He scanned over his naked body- eyeing the filth and sweat and blood that scattered across him.
He knew he couldn’t walk- his handler had basically dragged him here, his legs shaking too much to hold up his weight. His vision was blurry as well, his eyes darting in and out of focus.
So 326 resorted to crawling across the floor, dragging himself as gracefully as he could, wincing with every movement, collapsing a few times until he finally felt the cold tile, the metal drain underneath him of the shower.
He let himself collapse again, staring at his blurred reflection in the shower drain.
Handler Barrett turned on the shower, letting it crash over the man’s body below and stepped away for a few moments so the water could rinse off the filth on the surface.
When the Handler returned he had his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a rag in one hand, and a plain bar of soap in the other.
Jeremy’s eyes scanned across the bar of soap, then up to his handler’s face.
“It’s not protocol, I know, but you’ve earned it.”
326 let out a sigh as the handler wet the rag and began to lather up the sponge.
“Th-thank you s-s-sir-” Jeremy tried to make the words as clear as possible, but there was a subtle shake to his jaw, a tremor that he couldn’t deny.
“Here-” he held the items out to 326, and he took them in shaking fingers.
Jeremy began to lather up his chest, feeling the cold of the soap against his hand, when it slipped out of his fingers and slid to the drain below. The prisoner cursed under his breath and reached for it again but he couldn’t stop shaking long enough to get a good grip on it.
“Stop- just-” Handler Barrett scooped up the soap and gripped the top of 326’s arm. “Sit up, come on.” He helped the prisoner sit, his back facing the man and began lathering up the soap across his back and shoulders. 326 winced as it passed across the bruises and welts from an earlier beating, and bit back a groan as the Handler began to scrub some blood out from the deeper welts.
“Hold out your arm.” He ordered.
Jeremy did as he was told, and let the man scrub him, the rag passing over the crook of his arm where the ropes had rubbed his skin completely raw. Handler Barrett finished the other arm and then tilted his chin up with the back of his hand, turning the rag to his face.
Dried blood had crusted around his mouth and Barrett was as quick and efficient as needed in scrubbing it off.
326 breathed out a sigh as his face was washed, it almost- it almost felt nice as the man swiped the rag across his cheek, moving it around to his chin.
The feeling left as soon as it came as the rag fell with a plop onto the wet tile. Handler Barrett turned the prisoner around, his back pressed against the farthest wall, and began to wash his legs.
Jeremy hung his head forward as he was washed, the water hitting across the back of his neck, his hair falling limply around his face.
He glanced up briefly as the Handler paused, and realized where the man was looking. 326 scanned in between his legs, seeing the blood caked between his thighs, other fluids that had made their way onto him… Their eyes met and Barrett glanced away quickly.
“Clean yourself off and then rinse fully. Give me the soap once your done.”
Barrett plopped the soap and the rag into 326’s lap and then stood up, sliding the shower curtain over and stepping back into the small cell.
“Yes- yes sir.” 326 mumbled, his mouth heavy and slow.
Jeremy felt between his legs with his hand, wincing as the sore skin flared up. He choked back a sob as he cleaned himself off best he could with the water, before reaching for the soap. It slipped out of his hands again and he knew he couldn’t hold onto it long enough to thoroughly wash himself of all the filth. So he resorted to lathering up his hands as best he could, feeling the bubbles between his fingers, and with a shaky hand began to clean himself from all the blood and filth. He soon needed to grab the rag, but even being as gentle as he could he had to bite back a cry as he attempted to scrub himself off.
When he was finished he collapsed back against the wall, letting the water run down his chest. He ran his fingers through his hair and then brought his hands in front of his face.
He was shaking- the tremble in his hands was unmistakable, but from what, he couldn’t tell. The dehydration? Lack of food? Or all the shocks from the gag- the electricity…
Shit, what if this was permanent?
His body wracked with shivers as a rush of cold water splashed over his face. The shower was enough to pull him out of his thoughts and remember his Handler was standing just a few feet away. He couldn’t take too much time.
He placed a palm against the cold wall, trying desperately to rise to his feet. He managed to get a knee underneath him, his other foot placed firmly on the ground. 326 tried to stand but all the lather and suds from the soap made the tile to slick, and he crashed right back down with a thud at any attempt to stand.
Jeremy heard Handler Barrett curse under his breath and within a few moments the shower curtain was pulled away and 326 saw the man standing there, arms folded across his chest. The man shook his head and gripped the prisoner at the top of his arm, dragging him up to his feet. He helped him step out of the shower and then deposited him onto the bed, where 326 sat, head hung low on his chest.
A cup of water was placed in his hands and he trembled as he raised it to his lips. He took a small sip, and winced as he swallowed, his throat raw from screaming. Eventually the water began to soothe the aches and he pulled the empty cup away, the remains of his last sip trickling down his chin.
Handler Barrett took the cup away and 326 was left staring at his trembling hands.
“326-”
They were shaking so much… there were bruises across his wrists, his skin dotted with scars…
“326 look at me.” Barrett ordered.
The prisoner brought his eyes up- his face contorted in a look of- of fear, the Handler realized.
Handler Barrett paused for a moment, taking in the prisoner’s face. This prisoner, who was just a boy when he was first taken. Who was so defiant, so angry at the world, who now looked up at his Handler with the most fear he’d ever seen written on his face.
It had been nearly six years, that boy was a full man now. But in this moment, staring up at his handler with shaking hands, why did he look so young?
“326, what are your rules?” Handler Barrett ordered.
326 blinked, his programming taking over as his brain repeated what had been beaten into him.
“I do- do not have a, a name-” he paused, trying to push past the tremor in his jaw. “My numb-b-ber is 3-326.” He swallowed, his mouth dry, and took a breath. “I will only speak when- when spoken too- I will not ask f-f-for anything- my- my body is- is not m-m-my own.” He breathed out the last few words as the effort of speaking them became too much to handle. But Handler Barrett nodded, he was correct. 326 closed his eyes tight as his brain washed over with pain- it was so fuzzy- like a piece of paper, crumpled tight into a ball, unable to read the writing on it.
“Good. Do not forget them, understand?” Handler Barrett asked.
326 was back to staring at his hands, it took a moment after Barrett spoke for it to register, and 326 glanced up at him.
“Y-yes sir.”
“326, I need you to understand. You must never forget your rules. Now, they are planning on doing a 24 hour session. 24 full hours each, of sensory deprivation, and the overstimulation.”
Prisoner 326 flinched back against his cot as the words registered, his eyes shooting up to his handler. 326’s palms gripped the top of his thighs, digging into his skin as he tried to grasp some sense of control.
“Listen to me. I am under the impression that a full 48 hours won’t elicit any other effect than it has already had.” Handler Barrett clarified as 326 furrowed his brow in confusion. “It’s unnecessary. At least from my perspective. It is your job to make them agree. What do you suppose that entails 326?”
“Re-rememb-ber my rules, sir.”
Handler Barrett nodded. “And what else, 326?”
Jeremy closed his eyes, hearing the words that echoed through the speakers, over and over again, engraving them into his brain. Obedience equals safety.
“Obey.” He said.
“Correct. Under absolutely no circumstances are you to lash out, disobey, or even hesitate with a command.”
“Y-yes s-sir. Yes sir.”
“Good.” Handler Barrett turned away from the prisoner, moving to grab the clothes he had set on the cot earlier. “You did well today 326.”
326 was about to utter a feeble thank you, when the door to his cell burst open, and three unfamiliar figures stepped into the room.
Chapter 19! This is a short little chapter, but it wrapped itself up nicely. Part 18. Masterlist.
CW: Stress position, overstimulation as torture, restraints, unconscious whumpee, nudity, prisoner whump. This chapter does contain some noncon elements, in reference to what has been done in the previous chapters.
- - -
Handler Barrett returned to the control room several hours later, after tending to his other prisoners. One of them- Prisoner 349, had actually given him attitude- something they rarely dared to do. It was the most interesting thing that had happened since they’d started these training sessions, and 326 was, well- otherwise occupied.
“How’s he doing?” He asked as he pried open the door.
Barrett was met with silence- only the faint buzzing and the electrical whir of the machines and monitors.
“Excuse me?” He whipped around, scanning the small room incase the trainer was somehow hiding in plain sight. “You have got to be kidding me.”
Barrett moved over to the screens, scanning the one with the timer on it, the countdown of flower boy’s time remaining.
10:07
Ten hours and seven minutes. The remote was still on the table, buzzing away at inconsistent intervals, but 326- Barrett checked and double checked again. He was unconscious. There was no sign of movement whatsoever, even as the vibrations in the device grew- as his body hung limp amidst the ropes and chains-
Without a second thought Barrett left the small room and entered the other door down the hall, storming into the room that held the prisoner.
He marched over to the man, ignoring the drops of blood on the table- the redness of his skin- and moved over to his face.
326 was incredibly pale- his lips stretched wide over the edges of the shock-gag, cracked and bleeding- a split in his lip with a dribble of blood dried on his chin. There was no flutter of his eyelids, no twitch of an eyebrow- barely a breath upon his lips.
A sharper pulse from behind caused his body to sway slightly in the chains- merely a muscle response from the force of the vibrations inside him. 326 was completely unresponsive.
“Well god damn it.” Barrett mumbled under his breath.
He marched back into the small room to find the trainer at the other end of the hallway, holding a cup of fresh coffee in his hand.
“Get over here, now.” Barrett barked.
“I’m coming, goodness.”
As soon as the smaller man was in the room Barrett slammed the door shut, and stormed over to the trainer. He was startled, some of the coffee sloshing over the edge of the cup and onto his hand.
“Jesus- what-”
“He’s unconscious you moron. How long were you gone?”
The trainer darted his eyes over to the screen, scanning the vitals- the timer- looking for some sort of answer.
“I just went to get- to get coffee. God- I wasn’t gone that long-”
Handler Barrett shoved the man into the office chair, turning him towards the computer.
“How long has he been out.”
“Alright, give me a second-”
“How long!”
The man flinched as Barrett’s yell echoed throughout the room. He quickly checked the vitals, his records, the timer, doing the mental math to figure out the answer.
“Shit uh- three- three hours? I think-”
“He’s been unconscious for three hours?” The man nodded and Barrett folded his arms, his fingertips brushing over the edge of his baton. “So, you’re telling me that either you were gone longer than you said you were, or you were too goddamn stupid to notice that he’s been unconscious for three fucking hours.”
“God, I’m sorry, but you try sitting here for twelve hours without-”
Barrett turned the man’s chair around to face him, gripping his shoulders tightly as he leaned forwards into his face.
“You know I’ve been through much worse. Don’t be such a pussy. Now are you going to go in there and fix this, or do I need to report it and get some other useless shit to sit in a goddamn chair for a few hours?”
The trainer shook his head. “No- No sir. I’ll fix it.”
Barrett stood up, opening the door for the man. “Good. Get to it then.”
- - -
Jeremy finally came to with a burning ache in his jaw and a blinding pain behind his eyes. He blinked his eyes open to see a pair of hands near his face, parting the darkness. In the hands was the- the shock gag. He froze for a moment- barely breathing as he registered what was happening around him. That gag was almost a part of him now- his mouth felt strangely empty, his tongue heavy and his lips dry.
But it was gone now, they had taken it away.
Was his time up?
Was he finally done with this hell?
A stream of spit fell from his lips onto the table. His mouth was warm with what tasted like- like blood? That was confirmed as a wad of it fell over his lips, spraying onto the table below him.
There was a hand on his chin- tilting his face up, the chain at his neck rattling with the movement. It was- it was Handler Barrett. Jeremy stared like a deer in headlights as his face was wiped free from the blood and the spit. It seemed routine, harsh, and unfeeling with the rag across his skin, but as his eyes traced over his Handler’s face he noticed the man seemed almost, relieved?
Handler Barret let his face go and Jeremy hung his head. It was still too heavy, even without the weight of the metal or the dried blood. He made the mistake of looking down the length of his body- seeing the angry skin, and then his eyes locked on the sight between his legs. The metal cage seemed so rudimentary- but it was doing its job. He was throbbing with such pressure it made him want to whine. Jeremy quickly closed his eyes- unable to bear the sight of himself in this situation any longer.
A hand brushed across his shoulder but he barely flinched. There was a finger on his neck followed by a slight prick. He didn’t even squeak.
“Will that be enough?” A voice said.
Jeremy recognized the voice- Handler Barrett. He blinked a few times- barely able to raise his head to see the man in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another figure- the- the trainer- with some sort of array of needles, or tools, or- or something.
“I can give him a second dose if you’d prefer.”
“Give him the second dose, jesus. We lost a few hours, we have to make sure he finishes the session.”
“Wh-wa-” He tried to say, but it came out a garbled moan- the weight of his swollen tongue and the memory of the shock gag were enough to keep him from trying again.
Jeremy let out a sob instead- his voice was too loud even for himself and he flinched- anticipating the shock that never came.
Finish the session? What did they mean?
If he- if he wasn’t done, what they hell were they doing then? How much longer did he have left?
The recollection of a few hours ago came back to him as he swallowed a wad of spit in his throat. It was so raw- so irritated with the amount of screams he had made. Screams to set off the shock gag- to fry his brain and send him into darkness so he didn’t have to endure this agony any longer.
But it wasn’t enough.
326 felt his chest heaving with breaths as panic started to set in. The pain in his head and eyes only grew as he felt a second pinch of- of something in his neck. The trainer set down his syringe and Jeremy raised his head briefly to see Handler Barrett reaching for something in his pocket.
Large, cold hands fumbled near his face, and 326 tried his best not to flinch away. He knew the routine by now.
Jeremy let his lips fall open, the ache in his jaw growing with a whine as a new gag was placed behind his teeth. It was a simple ball gag this time- no shocks- no pain, no silence- But with that, came no escape into unconsciousness either.
“Alright, add another three hours to the clock. He’s got to be present for the full time.” Handler Barrett stated. “And so do you. Don’t take your eyes off him.”
Jeremy choked back a sob as the men walked out of the room, he couldn’t last for an extra three hours- plus all the additional time that he had left.
It only took a few moments after the men left the room for 326′s torture to start back up again. The vibrations kicked in with some sort of anger- he swayed in the chains at his arms as he screamed.
He was throbbing too much- there was too much of an ache. Too much of the tension and the throbbing under his skin. His entire body was alight with a fire he didn’t seem to be able to put out.
Hadn’t he been through enough?
When would it ever be enough?
With the knowledge that the shock gag was gone, Jeremy didn’t even bother to hold back his tears or his cries.
He sobbed as the headache and the pains in his body coursed over every inch of him. He moaned as the throbbing between his legs grew worse with each vibration, each pulse and whir of the device lodged inside of him. He screamed as the culmination of everything being done to him eventually became too much to bear.
But he had to bear it.
Until those twelve hours were up.
Because everything they did to him, was never enough.
One of the tough things about having a whumpee with a super long captivity, is trying to keep all the years straight with all the events and drabbles I’ve written. So I made a timeline! It includes everything I have so far, including the future drabbles I’ve written, all the way to the end of his captivity and the start of his recovery arc.
The sad thing is I can’t post it yet cause that would spoil a bunch of what I have planned.
