Chamber Six


"There is more than one way to make you talk, you know."

My staff had been vigorously interrogating her and using various forms of non-marking pain on her for days, yet she was not about to give up the information I knew she had. At least two weeks' journey from the nearest space station, I knew that time was on our side, not hers, that eventually she would crack - everyone ultimately does - and finally be more than willing to give us all kinds of useful information.

But she was quite well trained to withstand our usual methods. At one point, I had even ordered that she be tested to ensure that she was fully human. She was, but if she had been a bioroid instead, that would have explained her ability to endure the torturous, nearly-continuous pain, and it also would have signaled a significant shift in the Expansionists' war against us.

Standing defiantly in her cell, she was covered with sweat following the latest session. Her chest heaved, the perspiration causing her scant clothing to truly cling to her and further emphasize her femininity. She truly was beautiful, and I would have enjoyed bedding her, or even watching one of my men - or perhaps one of my women, or maybe one or more of each - enjoying her. Sex was one of the few methods we had not yet employed with her to get her to break, and given the resolute, fiery hatred in her eyes, sex might just be the only way to force her to talk.

I lifted my left wrist to my lips. "Samantha, has it been finalized yet?"

There was a short delay, which was not surprising given that Samantha worked so diligently in the lab whenever she was awake. "Yes, Captain. All the model runs have been successfully completed."

"What's the percentage?"

"Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-nine-four percent, Captain."

Slowly, I lowered my wrist. "Congratulations, Blondie," I said sarcastically yet also with a sense of impending triumph. "You're about to be the first to experience something completely brand new. Something which Officer Francesca to your left suggested several weeks ago, well before you were brought here, and it's finally come to fruition."

Officer Francesca gave me a small nod of thanks at my open praise of her idea, but the captive simply continued to glare at me, the fiery hatred burning with even greater passion.


I was informed that, as usual, she had put up quite a struggle, and finally had to be stunned several times so that she could be strapped down. That was fine with me, so long as she was fully cognizant of everything which happened to her when I was present. As I entered Chamber Six, it was clear that she was indeed fully cognizant.

All my best interrogators stood around the table at the center of the small chamber. The captured woman had been positioned spread-eagle on the table, her head positioned between two thin yet immovable blocks so that she could not turn her head away from the intense spotlight hanging down from the ceiling. Someone had already rendered her naked, which I would have liked to have done myself, but that did not matter too much, and the fact that she was already fully exposed gave me a wonderful view of her precious sex as I entered the chamber. While she struggled feebly, the many straps kept her limbs and her torso in position.

Samantha stepped into the chamber behind me, stopping at my side. The small medicine press was ready; it only needed to be activated and placed against the captive's forehead.

"The intense spotlight really has her sweating," I noted. "Will that have any effect?"

"Negative, Sir."

A half-grin formed on my lips as I approached the table. Knowing my team, I did not need to inspect the security of the straps, but I did nonetheless, just for the show factor. Yet the blonde woman did not seem afraid, perhaps because she had successfully thwarted our efforts at extracting the information in her head over the past few days.

"Just for the record," I asked aloud, "she's fully human, correct?"

"Correct, Captain," Samantha replied. "She's one hundred percent human. No trace of technology in her at all. Not even nanotech to keep any illnesses at bay or to quickly heal any injuries."

"And no chips were ever implanted to help extend her memory capabilities?"

"None, Sir," Lieutenant Hawker responded firmly. "Technologically, she's as clean as a newborn."

I returned my attention to the bound woman sweating profusely on the table. Even in this scenario - or perhaps because of this scenario - she was quite beautiful. Naked, her well-formed curved attracted my eyes. Naked, her quivering breasts beckoned to me as she vainly struggled anew.

"Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine-something percent, Samantha?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Good. I'll take it."

Samantha approached and handed me the small medicine press. Without needing to watch what I was doing, I set it to Active Dose and bent over the captured agent...

"Go to Hell!" she spat lowly.

I sneered. "You'll wish you were in Hell in just a short while." I placed the small square end of the medicine press to the center of the blonde's forehead and pressed the top button. Perhaps a half-second later, a small beep alerted everyone in the chamber that the entire dose had been delivered, and I lifted the medicine press away.

But before I stepped back from the table, I took the opportunity to squeeze a firm breast. "Too bad I have the rule about not leaving marks," I said softly in a hopefully non-threatening manner, "because I think these breasts would look great as they jiggled during a vigorous lashing. It's a good thing my good friend Captain Juo didn't capture you, because she is by far the best I have ever seen at wielding an electric lash."

I did not see the captive's reaction, for I turned and handed the deactivated medicine press back to Samantha. "What's the duration?" I asked.

"Almost five hours of full suppression," she replied, placing the press into a deep pocket of her white lab coat, a throwback to her ancestors back on Old Earth. "If necessary, she can take another dose after four hours, and there can be three overlaps without any adverse effect beyond a growing headache which would be at migraine levels at the third overlap. Just be sure that she keeps getting plenty of water."

"Understood. Excused."

"Aye, Captain."

As Samantha returned to the lab, I stepped back to the table, opening one of its drawers and producing a box of eyeshields. Wordlessly, I went to each of my staff, and they all took two of the eyeshields and placed them in their eyes. I was the last to don the eyeshields, and only then did I put the box back into the drawer.

"Here's the plan," I announced as I closed the drawer. "Samantha has given us essentially eighteen hours for this. That's nearly a full Ship's Day. Follow your normal shift patterns. Enact Scenario Thirty-four Bravo with Special Order Sierra Epsilon Nine in effect. Make sure that she gets plenty of water. And whenever you're in here, be sure you're wearing the eyeshields because the spotlight is to be at no less than sixty percent except in unique circumstances.

"Computer," I called out, hearing the soft chime noting the Master Computer awaited a command. "Spotlight at ninety percent."

The eyeshields prevented me from seeing the brightening, but I could certainly feel it, as my left side warmed tremendously since it was closest to the table. The captive, however, screamed louder than I had yet heard from her and fought valiantly against her bondage. The sweat on her skin seemed to triple instantly from the intensity of the pure-white light impaling her pores.

"I'll be back in about two hours," I announced as I strode toward the door. "Everything is being monitored and recorded, and Lieutenant Hawker's team is positioned outside the door, just in case."


By the time I had returned to my personal quarters and turned on the feed from Chamber Six, the final part of Scenario Thirty-four Bravo was in place. Lieutenant Hawker and Officer Francesca had mounted the device between the blonde's spread thighs, and the small tank had been connected to the back of the device.

"The tank's timer is now set," Lieutenant Hawker confirmed.

"Good. Computer, spotlight at eighty percent."

I was still wearing the eyeshields, so I did not see the intensity of the light itself change, but the sweat on the naked woman's skin did seem to slightly change in terms of shine.


With the press of a button, two squirts of cool lubricant were applied: one to the captive's clitoris and one to the shaft of the vibrator mounted to the extended arm of the machine. After a few seconds, the machine itself began to work, pressing a small vibrator to her clitoris and slowly impaling her body with the thick vibrator mounted to the extended arm.

As expected, the captive moaned softly.

"What program did you enter, Sir?" Officer Francesca inquired.

"Alpha Seven."

"Nice choice," she complimented with a knowing smile.

I felt the same way, for I was the one who had introduced Officer Francesca to Alpha Seven, a pattern I had programmed myself and had thoroughly tested at Voliza Station on that young Private from Captain Juo's crew.

I made my way to the dispenser unit, set it for my usual hazelnut coffee, and waited the fifteen seconds as I listened to the feed coming from Chamber Six. The captive woman had remained completely silent after the initial moan, but that would not last for very long. By the time I returned to the monitor, it was clear that the lubricant was certainly performing its duty flawlessly, allowing the thick vibrator to easily press deep into the captive's body. I thought fondly of that nameless Private once again, remembering how I had straddled her chest and, with her head propped up on several pillows, how I had taken my pleasure from her mouth as the vibrators were assuring her own pleasure.

A message chime sounded from the small communicator on my wrist. "Captain, I'm monitoring the audio. So far, so good, I guess, since I can barely hear her. I'm sure that will change rather soon. I'll keep you updated."

I smiled at Samantha's thoughtfulness, but she should have known that I would be monitoring this situation as well. After all, I had a very personal interest in seeing that the required information was extracted from the blonde's head.

Then I could have my revenge, with the full backing of the Alliance.

Sitting before the monitor, I drank slowly, savoring the hot brew and enjoying how it warmed me in a way that the activities in Chamber Six could not. I admired how the bound woman was trying to remain completely still and passive even though the bright intense spotlight was certainly excruciatingly hot on her unprotected flesh and her body was being sexually stimulated against her will.

The sadist in me was definitely enjoying this. There was no absolutely pain involved, although the powerful spotlight was certainly causing her some significant discomfort as it blinded her through her eyelids. While I enjoy observing a woman's physical pain, her psychological pain is equally appealing to me, and I enjoyed my musings on what she was thinking. Hopefully she had never been trained to withstand an interrogation with this type of torment involved, but even if she had, she would certainly be shocked to learn what was being suppressed to further her psychological pain.

About the time I finished the coffee, she moaned again. It was a long, low sound, soft yet distinct, a sound accompanied by the first significant movements of her body: her back arching as much as the straps would allow, her legs flexing noticeably and her arms pulling uselessly against her secure bonds. She was trapped, physically bonded with the table and carnally bonded with the vibrators.

Every thirty seconds, more lubricant was added. Every three minutes, the power to each vibrator was slowly increased. The buzzing sound of the small vibrator was particularly endearing, while the thick vibrator's sound crescendoed and decrescendoed as the extended arm pistoned the fake phallus into and almost completely out of her sweat-coated body.

To his credit, Lieutenant Hawker stepped out of the view of the monitor, returning with a pitcher of water which he slowly poured over the captive's face. Greedily, she ingested as much water as she could, the first sign that this most unusual tactic was indeed affecting her solid will. Officer Francesca also stepped out of the monitor's view, returning with another pitcher of water and a sizeable towel to clean away the significant amount of sweat and help to cool her overheated flesh.

It certainly could not be said that I did not care for the health or the safety of my captives. Personally, I would have waited a bit longer before giving her water or cleaning and cooling her, but I definitely could not fault the two officers for taking such actions at that point in the process.

Over the next thirty minutes or so, the bound woman's reactions increased. As the power to the vibrators increased, so did the strength of her futile struggles. Her breathing became more labored. The sounds escaping her throat became louder, longer, and lustier.

"So she's a carnal creature after all," Officer Francesca commented.

"Indeed," I acknowledged aloud to myself.

Watching and listening to the captive's reactions had aroused me. I noticed that Lieutenant Hawker was also aroused, a prominent bulge at the front of his slacks, but his professionalism was as solid as the thick hull. Officer Francesca also seemed aroused, her face and neck bearing a slight blush, but if her nipples were indeed erect, I had to give great credit to her choice of bra.

I wondered what Samantha thought, since she was only listening to the audio feed from Chamber Six.

Absently, I stroked myself through my uniform, feeling a seepage of lust emerging from my bulbous tip. I wished I could participate in Special Order Sierra Epsilon Nine personally. Actually, I could, but to do so at this early time might be counterproductive.

As much as the bondage would allow, she was writhing on the table. The carnal pleasure was too much for her will to keep her still and passive. I felt the intensity of the spotlight was a bit much for her, but I had faith in the two officers overseeing the immediate situation.

Slowly, I stood and began to undress. The usually-cool temperature in my quarters felt nice on my freshly-exposed skin, reminding me of my home world in the brief summer. The heat of my erection was almost surprising to me, but its throbbing was definitely expected.

Sitting again and leaning back with my legs spread, I stroked myself slowly, using my natural lubricant to assist the motions of my hand. I was amazed at how quiet the blonde captive was despite the amount of stimulation being focused between her legs. But that could not last much longer.

Two more squirts of lubricant, and the power to each vibrator increased yet again. She was mostly breathing hard, any true vocalizations becoming rather scant in number and in duration. Officer Francesca cleaned the captive's face again and poured a little more water into the open mouth, then stepped back and ordered the intensity of the spotlight to be reduced to only sixty percent.

There was a visible expression of relief on the blonde's face, and although her eyes opened, she clearly could not see, still "seeing" the spotlight. Her eyes appeared distant, clouded, as if she was aware of what was happening to her but was somehow able to step out of herself. I had seen this before, both from other captives and from her specifically in the earlier, failed interrogations, but I was a bit surprised that she could maintain the same distance in this situation.

Needing additional lubricant, I opened a nearby drawer and retrieved the small bottle I kept there for this very purpose. My ears were trained on the sound of her heavy breathing and the incessant buzzing of the vibrators. I could also keenly hear how her body was repeatedly violated, and that sound alone served to redouble my arousal.

The lubricant was cool against the heat emanating from my engorged manhood. The contrast of sensations made me sigh contentedly, and once I set the small bottle aside, I resumed stroking myself, spreading the coolness and adding another level of enjoyment to this rather unusual information extraction session.

The bound woman became more vocal. She writhed more vigorously, the straps holding her firmly to the table so the vibrators could continue to pleasure her and plunder her vulnerable body. The distance in her eyes began to fade - slowly, but it was indeed fading.

Two more squirts of lubricant, and the power to each vibrator increased yet again. But this time, the extended arm remained extended - it did not piston back toward the machine, leaving the thick vibrator fully embedded inside her. If the thick vibrator was not buzzing directly against her cervix, it was excruciatingly close, but that truly did not matter, for she screamed with her wild eyes wide open before her willpower could shut off her voice and once again render her sightless. Her body flailed violently against the myriad straps confining her, and even without the near-total intensity of the spotlight directly over the table, the sweat coating her body was unmistakable.

The two officers standing beside the table shared a triumphant grin, marking the first break in their professionalism.

The captive's internal struggle to remain silent was just as captivating as the straining of her muscles, the arch of her back, the heaving of her chest, the flow of her externally-imposed lust, the movements of her firm breasts, the prominence of her taut nipples... More than ever before, I wanted to somehow peer inside a captive's head - I wanted to penetrate her mind to know firsthand what she was thinking, to witness her will crumbling from the inside.

My hand moved more slowly, wanting to extend these sensations longer. The lubricant had warmed to my body temperature, so I reached for the bottle to add more, further slickening my lengthy anatomy and providing another sensation of coolness as my mind relished the plight of the blonde woman strapped to the table. Her mouth agape, I marveled at how she could remain voiceless for so long.

Then a peep of sound emerged, her eyes briefly opening wide before being clamped shut again by her will. The outer signs of her internal struggle were indeed priceless, and I knew deep in my dark heart that I would be consulting the record of this session again and again, even years after the war had ended.

Officer Francesca cleaned and cooled the captive yet again, ending just seconds before the renewed squirts of lubricant were added. This time, the thick vibrator was retracted - but only long enough to partake of the lubricant before it was violently forced back inside the bound body on the table.


The first clearly-coherent utterance in a long, long time was so exquisite, so perfect, that I very nearly succumbed to orgasm. I was breathing hard myself as I tried to keep my release at bay just a little longer. Internally, I cursed myself for my attention momentarily slipping from the session in Chamber Six, and when my eyes could once again focus on the monitor, I was not at all surprised to see Officer Francesca openly kneading a breast. She had also raised her left eyebrow, something she did involuntarily whenever something particularly intrigued her.

I knew exactly what Officer Francesca was thinking, because I was wondering about that as well.

"Lieutenant Hawker, I think it's best that only women be present through the rest of Scenario Thirty-four Bravo."

The sadness on his face was slight - if he had not served under me for more than three years, I likely would have missed it - but he nodded in agreement, even though he outranked Officer Francesca. "I'll make sure my men stay outside the chamber unless a crisis occurs."

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