A previous excerpt describes how an officer in charge of army 'resistance to capture and interrogation' training courses is jumped by his own men in a remote military training area, and left spread-eagled between steel tent-pegs. A sort of regimental tradition - because it's his birthday (see HBB-1)
Told that unless he manages to escape within a give time, they will return for a further test' .
As soon as the men leave a stranger in full bike leathers makes his presence know - and assessing the situation, forces the officer to accompany him, without being allowed to know where he's being taken.
Put into efficient restraint in a stress position in a cellar - after a painfully long wait the stranger returns and the officer demands
What do you want?
Revenge and information.
Revenge? For what?
For what you took away.
I don't know you. How could I have taken something from you?
You don't know me by name but we have met.
When?
Last year at the R-to-I phase of my training. I was one of the men on the SAS selection and after five months of grueling training, I was one day away from acceptance when YOU tricked me and got me talking. I failed selection because of you. And it's not going to happen again.
But that's my job. Interrogating is what I do. It is not up to me who the SAS select, I just run the R-to-I training.
Well now I've got another chance at selection and I'm not going to blow it this time. I want to know everything about the exercise. How its run. What the ploys and tricks are. How long it lasts, everything. And you're going to tell me. And then you're going to tell no-one about this.
I can't do that.
There was a pause.
The leather-clad figure moved in and I screamed as tit clamps went onto my nipples. A hand clamped over my mouth. The pain wasn't that bad, it was more the surprise than anything.
The leather mask came right into my face and the blue eyes bore into my own.
Scream away, no-one can hear you. You will talk. You'll be begging to talk to me and I may not let you until I'm sure you're going to tell the truth. You'll be gagged and going crazy wanting to speak so that I'll stop what I'm doing to you. But I won't let you speak until I'm absolutely sure and you're absolutely desperate.
The hand came away and a different tight close fitting leather hood was dropped over my head. No eye holes. No mouth hole. Just three small holes below my nose. Laces were tightened, a zip closed and a padlock fitted at the neck. The hood was not coming off even if I got my hands free. The chain between the tit clamps was pulled slightly. I sucked in air and pushed my chest out to reduce the pull, swinging from the bar as I did so. The chain was dropped. The spreader bar between my legs was replaced by the short hobble chain and my arms were lowered and cuffed together in front of me. I was led forward struggling until a sharp tug on my tits reminded me it would be better to cooperate until I got a true chance to escape. Through a door and up a flight of stairs then along a corridor and up more stairs. We must be in the house attached to the garage where I had first been kept. Why move me here? Unless the facilities were better! Another door and I was pulled over to a padded table. The tit clamps came off and I gasped as a surge of blood rushed into my squashed nipples. Face down his voice commanded.
I lay face down on the padded table. He adjusted my arms and legs and then straps seemed to tie down every part of my body. After removing the ankle chain, the whole length of my spread legs were tied down. My arms were by my sides but also tied down to the table with my wrists and hands still encased in their complicated leather straps. My head seemed to drop slightly into a depression and was secured in that position with more straps. Lastly my cock and balls were hanging free through what must have been a hole in the table and therefore were presumably totally exposed. A wide strap was passed over my arse and tightened pressing my crotch further into the hole and preventing any possible movement. It was clear where the centre of attention was going to be!
Back to Square One
After a grueling questioning session, the officer is returned to the training ground and re-staked out inescapably, where he can only wait
.
END OF EXCERPT 'Biker Interrogates'. See TEST ONE for further excerpts