My Torture Machine (F/self)

[StringTheorist]

I sat down in the chair on My Torture Machine and paused before I pushed the start button. Have I done everything I need to? Locked the doors, turned off all the lights? Set the answering machine? Check the UPS? Check that the contingency shut off would work? Room temperature set up high? Used the washroom. Applied a light lubrication to my nether regions and nipples. Shaved my pubic region to ensure no hairs got trapped and pulled? Yes, everything seems to be in place. Once the Torture Machine takes over, I will be trapped until it finishes.

I put on the helmet that covered my head, including face. Only two small holes at the nostrils were open. I was deprived of sight and to the maximum possible, sound. Nor could I make much noise. There was a small tube that the machine might deliver a drink. There were small pressure pads with sensors for REM sleep detection pressed not too hard against my eyelids. I plugged the harness from the helmet into the cable from the chair and attached the straps. I wondered a bit how I could extend the machine to perform the function of restraining the head and cutting off sight and sound automatically.

I sat on the velvet cover on the padded seat, and laid my limbs on the contoured arms of the chair. With my index finger of my left hand I pressed the start button; there was no corresponding stop button. Shortly a quiet motor started. I could visualize the results of my engineering skills - a plastic carrier strap was rising quietly beside my left wrist, and arching over to find the termination capture socket on the other side of my arm. In its fingers was the nylon strap that would restrain my left wrist. I imagined that I heard the click as the tongue of the strap was captured, and the strap released by the carrier, which then would retract back into the arm.

I had invented this device as part of my work as an electro-mechanical engineer. My company was developing automatic palletizing equipment for fastening odd shaped items that needed to be attached, to eliminate the manual effort of fastening. Parts included artificial prostheses, aeroplane subassemblies. The pallet itself had several of these devices that could be positioned for different loads, and customized with different guide carrier straps. These were wound on a spool, which when it unwound, extended the plastic carrier out, like the antennas developed and launched on Canada’s first satellite, Alouette 1. Except in this case, the plastic had a memory of its original path, and curved in an arch following its original shape. The tip positioned itself within a tolerance of +/- 2mm at a span of over 2 feet, in still air. This was precise enough to enter a capture slot with a width sufficient to handle the variability, and little fingers tugged the plastic strap into the clamp. Then the carrier strap would retract, pulling away from the fastening strap, and be rewound. The fastening strap was then tensioned to whatever the requirements called for. A microcomputer in the pallet controlled the operation of the mechanisms, and could report troubles to a control station using WiFi. During development and improvement cycles, I had no trouble making extras for my own benefit.

I felt the fastening strap touch the back of my wrist. There was a built-in pause so that I could shift my wrist slightly to ensure that the strap was in the right place. No adjustment was necessary, thanks to the contoured arm with a natural depression or trough in which my limb lay. The strap tightened, pinioning my arm to the chair. Soon another nylon strap touched my right wrist, paused, and snugged up tight. I was captive of my Torture Machine.

More of my automatic strappers functioned. My ankles became fastened to the chair, pinioning my legs into their custom contoured troughs. My thighs and upper arms became prisoner of the relentless machine, controlled by the computer. A broad strap reached around my waist, pulling me back into the shaped back. The velvet covering on the chair felt very nice on my bare skin.

My only regret was that I had not yet figured out how to pinion my arms behind my back automatically and safely. Arms behind me always feels more vulnerable, helpless, senses heightened - it is my preferred bondage position. Well, something for Mark 2, if Mark 1 ever releases me.

The straps linked to my helmet tugged my head back into the socket and clicked locked. Now the only things that I could move were my fingers and toes. I wondered about adding clamshell type devices to deny me, or any other occupant, even that limited degree of motion. Maybe some inflatable cuffs over my hands and feet.

Now I was entirely at the mercy of the programs I had designed into the computer. Everything was governed by random number generators that determined duration, sequence, frequency, speed, and selection of tool. There was some degree of control - electrodes in the helmet detected my brain wave rhythms to see when I had drifted off to sleep. This could be used, again in random ways, to alter the duration and sequence of what was to come. The sensors could also detect my state of arousal from pulse rate and breathing rate, which could be used to stop stimulation short of orgasm. Another part of the system could be used to provide a drink of water, which could be laced with a mild sedative or a stimulant. The plug filling my mouth prevented me from doing anything other than swallowing whatever the machine decided to serve me.

An elaborate series of interlocks using AI programming techniques prevented, I hoped, the machine from running berserk, and for instance, tightening my restraining straps too much, or feeding me all the water at once, faster than I could swallow. They also prevented electric shocks that the machine was capable of from taking paths that would cross my heart. Safety in stimulation. A separate safety system, not connected to the computer, would act to release me by unlocking the latches on the restraints after a long period of time which I had set to 12 hours, all night and into Sunday morning.

I had not yet implemented the music feature, nor the light strobe feature. The music would have been relaxation type, low, but enough to mask the quiet clicks and whirs of the motors and latches.

As I waited for whatever the machine decided to do to me, I wondered at how I would alter the design for a man. The vaginal/clitoris sub-assembly would have to go, to be replaced by a penis/testicle package. Vacuum mechanism for controlling semen production. Where the vaginal stimulation pushed in, for a man something would have to pull out. Hmmm. How to find a man willing to be fitted, measured, adjusted without asking too many questions. Someone trusting. But I had never told anyone about my extra-curricular engineering activities.

I felt a touch just below my left breast, then felt the cup position itself about my mammary gland. My erect nipple slid into the little space at top, and a vacuum sucked it home. The wobbler made an experimental shake of my nipple. The arm from around the back of the Torture Machine carrying the cup for my right breast was a little stiffer, and didn’t seat until about a minute later. Or maybe it was part of the randomness built into the program. My nipple slid into its special holder, and the Machine set the nipple wigglers into frantic motion. Sensation spread from the point of contact through my breasts, and down my abdominal muscles to my clitoris which swelled up all on its own. The Torture Machine must have sensed my arousal for the wiggling stopped, and a squirt of relaxant entered my mouth.

I had a long wait for something else to happen and I may have dozed a bit. I noticed that my legs were being spread apart by the mechanisms. The engineer in me tried to figure out the contained angle formed by my thighs - 80, 100, 120, 140 degrees. The spread stopped before any pain set in, but the inside of my thighs were stretched, pulling on the muscles around my vagina and anus. As well, the opening of the legs also opened up the seat I was sitting on and I dropped just a little as the support under my ass was removed. The belt around my middle and the restrains on my helmet prevented me from moving down too far. My anal and vaginal openings were exposed. My sphincter muscles quivered with anticipation - soon some tool might be forced in, to rotate, plunge in and out, provide electric shocks, or remain untouched, waiting, wanting. A drop of self lubrication slid down from my vagina, found a low spot around my anus, and fell off. All my senses were focussed down there.

The Torture Machine spread my legs further apart, well over 150 degrees. A little bit of pain from my hip joints and I could feel my thigh bones squeezed against the muscle and skin on the inside of my legs. Then the crotch clamp swung up from under the seat. This is a pad that crosses over my abdominal region just above the pubic bone. The padded arms supporting it fit tightly into my groin, from just in front of my anal muscle, and extending up around my hips. As it latched into place I had this feeling it was like the ropes I sometimes use in a body harness running from behind my back, around my sides just below the hip bone, down my crotch, under my ass and through my crack and up my back. I really like this feeling of constraint there, very stimulating. The pressure spreading my legs relaxed and they closed a little, down to about 90 degrees. The crotch clamp prevented my legs from closing any further, but did not touch or block my anal opening or my vagina. The spread of the arms pulled my labia a little open, helped by the engorgement of the interior lips.

Time passed and I relaxed which kicked in some other program element in the control computer. I noticed something moving up and down right in front of my clitoris. Maybe it was the slight displacement of air there, maybe there was actual contact; it continued. I tried to twist my pelvis closer to the vibrating tip, but couldn’t move very far because of the crotch clamp. My efforts just increased the pressure/strain on the arms in my groin, which I enjoy very much. However, the thing was very delicately balanced so that it only gave featherweight touch. My clit responded by itself, enlarging and trying to receive satisfying strokes, but failing. Oh, such torture. This kept up for some time. Every time I started responding, the device moved away until my heart rate and breathing normalized.

Another pause, and another shot of fluid. The clit-flick device retracted, and I relaxed, unsatiated. I don’t mind, as I really enjoy the state of being stimulated and aroused. Climax can be an anti-climax, so to speak.

I felt the nob of the anal penetrator press against the muscles down there. This device has a very slow lubrication system, oozing a bit of KY lube out a small hole on the tip. It started to make small circles pressed lightly against my sphincter muscles. I did not know what tip the computer had chosen from its repertoire of tools - thin, thick, bulbous, ribbed, penis shaped, crooked, inflatable. It circled and circled. This almost brought me to an anal orgasm, if such an action exists in a human body. I pushed out with my bowels to increase the sensation, and to try to capture it in my rectum. Suddenly it slipped inside having well lubricated itself and me. The bulbous one - about a 1 inch diameter ball on a pencil sized shaft. It penetrated quite far in, comfortably, until stopped by the base flange, which seated itself on my sphincter. The part of me not caught up with all the sensations thought that I should try to design something that moved against the front wall of my rectum to put pressure on my vagina. For a man, pressure against his prostrate gland, as some books say that the male can feel stimulation of the prostrate through the rectum.

The vibrator in the tip started, slowly for a while, then increasing in both frequency and magnitude. I could hear it, probably as much as from sound conduction through my body, as imagination. The Torture Machine played with this sensator for a long while, varying the speed and magnitude independently, backing off as it sensed my state of arousal. Then it settled down into a slow, steady shake. I wondered if the gross motion capability would start, whereby the whole assembly would move laterally with respect to the natural position of the outlet from my alimentary canal, vary the angle of entry, and move in and out as well. But no, obviously not in the random cards right now. Long pause.

Zap. An strong electric shock jumped to my left nipple from the cup and jumped back from my right nipple. Oh my gawd, I didn’t add a rule to prevent this to the safety module. But I guess it was ok - the current probably only went across the skin and chest muscles between my breasts. My body convulsed against its constraints, from my ankles to my head. No damage done. Fortunately, the rules would inhibit frequent use of the shock feature.

Next the vaginal probe touched my inner lips, slowly forcing them apart with its penis shaped head. There was a small lubrication channel in it as well, ensuring an easy entry, although a steady stream of my internal secretions had fallen from my underside, making the extra fluid superfluous. The lips opened to provide entry. The full length penetrated me, touching on my cervix as it filled my hole. The flange coming up the front pressed against my clit. Slowly the vaginal assembly increased pressure almost to the hurting point, then stopped. The vibrator speeded up (the one in my bum. The one on the plastic penis wasn’t doing anything). All my attention was focussed on the artificial penis, and I felt the ring just below the head expand as compressed air was fed in. Then it began to rock back and forth, in and out, but not all the way. I waited for it to stop as the machine sensed my rapid pulse and breathing, but it continued, faster and faster in time with my gasps.

I exploded. The contractions in my vagina were the strongest that I have ever had, and spread down my legs, into my anus, up my chest and through my arms. All muscles in my body seemed to participate. The machine slowed its plunging, but wouldn’t stop. I nearly had a second climax moments after the first.

A shot of liquid - I needed a drink. Finally the plunging stopped, but the device remained deep within me. Sweat rolled down my bare skin, slowly drying in the warm room. I struggled to get enough air through the small openings in my mask. Eventually, I calmed down. Wow. Worth the effort.

I had inserted into the program smarts to detect climax from the strains imposed on the restraints, but randomized whether or not the machine would release me after the first coming. It didn’t seem so inclined this time. I guess I am in for a long night.

I drifted off to sleep. The bounds kept me from falling forward or slumping, but were not painful. Perhaps the drink had some of the sedative.

While I dozed the two penetrators were withdrawn, probably very slowly so as not to disturb me. I dreamt I was secured into an electric chair awaiting execution. The electricians were having problems getting the electrical connections right. Every time they ran their continuity tests, the circuit breakers failed. I couldn’t do anything. Finally everything was ready.

I awoke to a strong electric shock between some object pressed against my vagina and another point on my legs, jerking futilely against their restraints. Shot of fluid in the mouth to swallow. The shocks continued for a while. I twisted as much as I could but they would not stop. I was breathing hard from the strain, through the two narrow breathing holes. Finally the anal penetrator plunged into my bum. The biggest penis likewise jabbed into my vagina, and both vibrators turned on full, max speed, max unbalance and so quite a stimulus. It didn’t take long for the devices to raise me to another climax, followed by a period of relaxation.

Thus continued my night. I had no idea of the passage of time. My spent body slumped against the straps.

The Torture Machine began to build to another peak - nipple wigglers going, plastic penis moving in and out, anal plug twisting, turning, plunging, when there was a sudden click and the straps around my lower arms, chest, waist, thighs and ankles released. The helmet also was freed. Everything but the straps on my upper arms and the crotch clamp. I could wave my lower arms, kick my legs, bob and twist my head. The cups on my breasts were held on by the vacuum - I couldn’t quite reach far enough to pry them off. The penetrators speeded up their attack on my lower parts as I reached another climax. Slowly, everything calmed down. The butt plug gently withdrew. The vacuum on the breast cups released, and they fell away. The plastic in my vagina retracted. The last straps pinioning my arms unlatched. Only the crotch clamp remained.

I waited. No sound. No action. I was still held captive. I needed to go to the toilet badly by this time. I took off the helmet and lowered it to the floor. All was dark as I had turned out the lights, and the Torture Machine was in an inside room in the basement, light proof, soundproof. I knew that I was not strong enough to bend or break the clamp around my groin, nor was there room to wiggle out from under it, thanks to the locking latch I had designed into it, and the way its arms came up around my groin and around my hips.

"Maybe it wasn’t the fail-safe release that went. It would have released the crotch clamp along with the rest of the restraints," I thought.

Idly I felt for my labia. They didn’t feel too bad in spite of all the thrustings and other actions. They responded to my fingers and soon I was slowly rubbing my clit to see if I could come again. It took some time, but come I did. Must be about the sixth time tonight. I relaxed, as best I could with a full bladder, and drifted off, my legs in their holders, and my arms on the chair arms.

Suddenly I was wide awake. I pushed my legs to spread them apart further and the crotch clamp moved away. Of course. There is a part of the leg and foot mechanism that blocks the crotch clamp from moving back. That is why my legs had to spread so wide apart for it to come out from underneath in the first place. I pushed it down, and it slid out of reach. Slowly I closed my legs, as I did not want to be pinched as the split seat closed.

Oh. My wonderful Torture Machine.

[LunaDog]

As an Engineer myself, i both enjoyed an appreciated this superb story! Well done!

[Mr Underheel]

What a unique, amazing story! It made me think of Skynet, the machine coming to consciousness and torturing for its own purposes. If you build the “Make” version and need a Guinea pig, drop me a line!

[Pen Dreadful]

I'm a big fan of sci-fi bondage. I'm definitely gonna be coming back to reread this one a lot.

[StringTheorist]

Hi @LunaDog, @Mr Underheel and @Pen Dreadful

Thanks for posting that you enjoyed my little story. I'm new to this site and reluctant to go too far too fast.

As the post is in the Fictional Stories category, so is the Torture Machine. So no mod 1 nor 2.

I read the story "A Teen Plays While Her Parents Are Away" and the author used the term "waves of torture" when she reached climax, and I was motivated to share my "torture" story.

[JulieG]

WOW . WHERE CAN I GET A TORTURE MACHINE?

[tiedinbluetights]

Absolutely fantastic story! Thanks for sharing [mention]StringTheorist[/mention] ! And

Climax can be an anti-climax

is just so true! Pity this is just fictional! If a male model ever gets to the market, I'm buying--hopefully it will have options for my wife-captor to by-pass the RNG and program in her preferred tortures of me!

[StringTheorist]

Hello tiedinbluetights

I am glad you enjoyed my story. Alas, there is no actual device so no "male" model on the horizon.

You are lucky to have a partner-captor. What does she think of the story vis-a-vis your "needs"?

ST

[StringTheorist]

Hello JulieG

Alas, no such machine exixts.

It's an honour to have a comment from the formidible JulieG.

ST

[tiedinbluetights]

Hello tiedinbluetights

I am glad you enjoyed my story. Alas, there is no actual device so no "male" model on the horizon.

You are lucky to have a partner-captor. What does she think of the story vis-a-vis your "needs"?

ST

I am indeed very fortunate to have lovely wife who's also my captor! Alas, as we are both advancing in age, we both have less stamina. Play hence becomes less frequent, and not as elaborate and as extended as when we were younger. As for

What does she think of the story vis-a-vis your "needs"?

well we both share the need to make the other happy. She knows that when it comes to TUGs, what makes me happy is to be held tightly tied-down, captive for as long as possible, with some occasional 'tortures' to spice the captivity up. I love to be edged and denied release, and should release become unstoppable (I've been doing kegel exercises for decades now, to help delay the inevitable release), to then have the stimuli continue relentlessly instead (post-orgasm torture). All this takes a tremendous investment in time and energy on the part of my captor/wife whose own needs include to snuggle with me, have me listen quietly and patently as she recounts past activities with her friends and shares her future plans with me, watch me do house chores naked or minimal clothing, etc. And watching me squirm against the ropes as she torments and teases me is a huge turn on for her.

The sadly fictitious machine in your lovely story [mention]StringTheorist[/mention] would be a marvel in real life for every one, not just for people without play partners. How many 'monogamous' captors haven't wished they had an extra pair or two of hands to torment their captives with and vis-versa? For that matter, I'm sure any number of simultaneous captors tormenting one or more captives simultaneously have had their hands full and had thought "if only we had ..."

Thanks again for sharing your story [mention]StringTheorist[/mention]!