Chapter 3

In later videos, the same woman in the white coat repeats what she did before, stroking him, and then slaps his cock hard, making him cum instantly. I feel slightly unsettled watching it. They laugh at something and inject more of the liquid into his vein.

In the following videos, I see them fitting that metal device onto his penis. It must be agonizing, his cock has to be forced into something several sizes smaller. Then they inject him with more doses, and now his cock is locked away while he thrashes even harder.

I skip ahead through some folders and find videos of the soldiers raping him, just like I saw earlier today. These are from two months ago. He has been enduring this ever since they brought him here.

I’ve never been one to be easily shaken by human barbarity, especially after everything I’ve seen… but I admit this left me a little disturbed.

I pause the video and walk over to him. The fever is still high. I take the vials out of my backpack, open one, and pour the liquid into his mouth. He looks half-unconscious and burning hot. I hope this works.

He swallows the liquid with some difficulty. I lay another blanket over him, hoping he pulls through.

I continued reading through the folder and understood more: they had been using the prisoner as a guinea pig to test a drug that appeared to be a powerful sexual stimulant. Now the content of the videos made even more sense.

Some time later, he began to wake up slowly. I checked his temperature again and it seemed more normal and stable, though he was still very weak.

I went out to check the surroundings and found a locker room with showers. I tested a few and one actually worked. Surprisingly, the water wasn’t cold. There must still be an old heater functioning somewhere.

I went back to the prisoner, draped his arm around my neck, and lifted him. My mother always said a warm bath helps recover from a fever.

I dragged a chair over and sat him under the running water. I couldn’t leave him alone because he still seemed half-unconscious. It felt strange staying so close to a naked man for so long, especially when my eyes kept drifting down to the metal device locked around his cock, whose purpose I now understood perfectly.

He was almost awake but still weak. I turned off the shower, wrapped him in the blanket to dry him, and kept his body covered while I carried him back to the mattress.

He was shivering from the cold now, so I covered him with the other blanket.

I kept waiting for rescue.

A few minutes later, while walking around the building, I found two cans of preserved olives and two cans of tuna. I stored them away. This place really had been a school before. When I returned to check on my prisoner, he was fully awake. I had tied his feet with a rope while I was gone so he wouldn’t try to escape.

I looked at him. He still seemed scared. He was shivering, and I realized it was from the cold.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Once again, he didn’t understand me, but he looked better than before. He glanced down at his feet. I approached slowly. When I reached for my gun, he looked at me in fear. I raised my hands calmly, placed the weapon on the nearby chair, and moved toward the rope. I untied it while he watched my every move.

I stood there obse

rving him as he curled up. He didn’t look like a 24-year-old man anymore, the age I knew he was.

I opened the backpack and showed him the set of clothes I had brought. He looked at them attentively, but I couldn’t dress him with the handcuffs on. I took out the keys I had taken from the laboratory, showed them to him, and said:

“I can open these, but you have to promise me you won’t run away or do anything stupid.”

He didn’t understand. I got closer, right in front of him, looked him straight in the eyes and said slowly:

“No. Run.”

I pointed at the door and added:

“There are many out there. They will kill you.”

He repeated in my language:

“No… run.”

It sounded like confirmation. I had to trust him, or the poor guy would die of hypothermia without clothes on this cold night. I picked up the keyring and, after two attempts, found the right one for the handcuffs. I unlocked them.

He rubbed his wrists, and I could tell he had been wearing them for a long time.

I handed him the jacket and he immediately put it on. As I was about to give him the pants, I noticed a strange key on the keyring. It was the same one I had seen them using in the videos to lock that device.

I showed it to him. He shook his head frantically and pressed himself harder against the wall. I tried to calm him, even though I knew he couldn’t understand me:

“I can remove it. Look.”

He shook his head again, almost starting to cry in desperation. I felt pity for him. Then he stared at me and said something in his language, his face twisting in pain. I moved closer. He allowed me to look.

His cock was purplish and red at the same time. It looked unbearable.

I told him to stay calm, showed him the key, and approached slowly. It felt bizarre having to do this, but I didn’t think he could do it himself. I just wanted to help.

I held the padlock. He flinched. I looked at him, asked him to relax, and slowly inserted the different key. His eyes were wide and haunted. I opened the lock carefully, but there was still something inserted at the tip. When I started to pull, I realized it was inside his urethra. He grabbed the front of my uniform and groaned as I slowly withdrew the long metal piece.

I almost hesitated when I saw the full length of it coming out of him. I tossed it into a corner and then removed the chastity cage itself, throwing it aside as well.

His cock was marked with deep red imprints from the device. Now free, it slowly began to harden. The prisoner looked ashamed. I said softly:

“It’s okay.”