a fantasy based on real-life experience


The author knows the background and technical details of the army unit described here. He was officer in charge.
His commission was to evaluate groups of servicemen by
putting them through a series of realistic infiltration, stealth
and endurance exercises.
That is not fiction: he was also a professional interrogator.

Now retired, in this story he allows himself to imagine a series of predicaments which he perhaps wishes might have
happened to him.



Chapter One: Surprise Surprise!
“Happy Birthday boss!” said the rapidly receding voice of Colour Sergeant Norris, followed by a round of badly suppressed laughter from the rest of the team. And then I was alone. I lay still and tried to assess my position. Staked out, gagged, and blindfolded, in the middle of a wood in the training area I began to wonder how I was going to escape and then I laughed at the irony of my predicament. Being the boss of a unit dedicated to training soldiers in resistance to interrogation and torture here I was totally out of control, tied up, and vulnerable.

We had just finished an exercise to train a recce platoon from 40 Commando RM in basic practical resistance to interrogation. I had been at my most inventive this weekend and even though this was only my third exercise as controller we had successfully broken a few wills and a few more egos. My guard commander was CSgt Dave “Cuff” Norris and he and I established a good rapport. He knew what made young marines tick and his own training as a marine ensured we made the exercise realistic and punishing for the trainees – themselves hardened experienced marines. Anyway the exercise drew to a close; everyone was debriefed and packed off home. I was in a bit of a hurry because as soon as we got back to camp my two weeks summer leave began and I didn't want to waste a second. We had almost packed up everything prior to the return to our own unit when I heard Dave call for me from the rear of the derelict farm buildings we had been using as the makeshift interrogation centre. I put my bergen in the Land Rover and went to check all was OK. I rounded an outhouse and as I passed the open doorway I was jumped by four of my own men. My arms were quickly pulled behind me and I heard and felt the familiar click as the 1950's police cuffs snapped onto my wrists. We had many pairs for use on trainees and I knew all too well that they weren't coming off unless someone used the key to unlock them. I was hauled to my feet and spun round to face a smiling “Cuff” Norris who grinning from ear to ear just had time to say Happy Birthday before he slipped the green cotton hood over my head and tightened the neck cord.

I struggled some but it was all too late. 36 hours without sleep controlling the exercise had left me tired and weak. I tried laughing and asking the guys to let me go as we had to get back but the firm pressure of hands on my arms told me I wasn't going anywhere till they had had their fun at my expense. Oh well better to give in and get it over with and then we could all go home. I half expected a quick ducking in the nearby stream and then a friendly barracking on my 40th birthday status before being released but it was not to be like that. We walked for some time and then I was expertly dumped on the ground and four pairs of hands went to work. My black polished combat boots, socks and my favourite tight fitting tropical DPM trousers were removed. I felt rope tightens round my ankles and my legs kicked apart. Simultaneously one wrist was freed and my lightweight DPM shirt was stripped off me leaving me in only my shorts A second pair of cuffs snapped on. I was then none too gently spread-eagled on the ground and I heard the free end of the cuffs close. I tried tentatively pulling my arms in but soon found them stopped short. Meanwhile my legs had each been tied to something and I knew I was going nowhere for a while.

The hood came off and I looked up to see myself in a wood. Driven into the ground were four very strong steel pegs and from the top of each extended a short metal loop. The free end of each of my cuffs went through the loop on two of the pegs. And the rope from each ankle was similarly threaded through the loops of the other two pegs before being tied off to the peg. Dave laughingly began to explain this was an initiation tradition in the unit and that finding out that it was my birthday, it had seemed like the ideal opportunity to see if I could take what I dished out. I started to argue but was quickly cut short by a short length of rope which was expertly flipped over my head and into my mouth. A couple of times round my head and I could do nothing but grunt. A green cotton sweat scarf was tied over my eyes and I was very effectively blindfolded. CSgt Norris explained I had 12 hours to get myself back to base before they came looking for me for part two of my initiation, the resistance to interrogation phase which he assured me I would not enjoy. Giving me some hope Dave said no-one had failed to get free in the 12 hours but that not all managed to make it back to camp some 10 miles away.

If I got back I would escape phase two, if not…he just laughed. However, he added as I was an officer, in true Royal Marines tradition, all tests were harder than for the other ranks, so there was to be one further difficulty. At this I felt a hand enter the leg of the loose fitting tough green cotton shorts I always wear on exercise. Despite my pathetic struggles and grunts a piece of paracord was wrapped round my ball sac and stretched to a fifth steel peg hammered into the ground between my legs.

This piece of painful sexual harassment was strictly against rules of procedure for our courses, I told myself - but I I already knew that the rule book was out of the window.
This was confirmed when a heavy boot was deliberately planted on the cord, stretching it (and my balls) even tighter as Norris said, “Don't want to make this too easy do we sir?” ... and then “Happy Birthday boss!” as his voice receded into the distance.

A short while later I heard the vehicles start up and drive away.

Because this story was written as a jerk-off scenario for the amusement of a couple of other men with their own erotic preferences - the author now developed his story to include a biker in full leather, abduction of the prisoner, shaving and interrogation which includes cum-control. Without allowing his victim to know where he’d been taken, the author now imagines being returned to his original staked-out position - in time for his own men to come looking for him.

Exhausted, I half-slept in spite of my uncomfortably stretched position - but was woken by hands removing my rope gag. It was Dave grinning down. “So you failed to escape boss. That’s not good. I warned you what would happen if you failed to escape and I’m a man of my word.”

“But … but … “ I stammered, but he had replaced the gag before I could explain. Despite my urgent protests this was followed blindfold and then the green cotton hood over my head aagain. “Don’t go away,” he said, “I’ll go and fetch some of the boys.”

Before leaving he tightened up the paracord attaching my balls to the peg. “Don’t want to make this too easy, do we sir?”

Square One
This was not happening to me. I couldn’t believe I’d been released by the biker only to find myself at the hands of my own men`. I kicked and struggled trying to loosen the pegs holding my feet, but when I had been returned, the biker had checked everything and spread-eagled me tighter than when I had been left the first time. And then Dave had retightened the paracord to my balls before disappearing again. So I was in a worse situation than before my abduction if that was possible. This time I couldn’t rub the blindfold off because of the hood and anyway there was probably no key dangling above me. I tried moving my pelvis to see if the pull on my balls would be enough to at least give me an erection. It was, but only with much effort. My sore dick rose again and began to rub against the rough cotton of my shorts. It was painful but behind the pain was the chance of an orgasm and that was all I wanted now. Eventually I felt some precum begin to leak from my cock. So absorbed was I in attaining my goal that it was only at the last minute that I heard footsteps and knew the team had arrived. There I was with a raging erection and my own men watching me struggle. I stopped and a hand reached into my flies, freed my cock and then gave it a good slap. I grunted in pain.

“Hello again boss,” laughed ‘Cuff’ Norris. More laughter escaped from the assembled men. I think I heard at least four people but couldn’t be sure inside my hood. “I see you’ve been busy, but not busy enough. You should have spent the time trying to escape instead of jacking off. There was a key right by your left hand.” I screamed in frustration. I could have freed myself and jacked off before their return. I would have been in a much stronger position to call the whole thing off. Now I was helpless and they all knew how in need of an orgasm I was.

“Don’t say you weren’t warned, sir. If you’d escaped you would have avoided phase 2 of your initiation. As it is you didn’t escape twice and that’s a record, so we’re going to have to come up with something really special for you ......



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