Terry explained everything later in the hospital. Sir had indeed had a stroke. He was probably so hyped up from my torture that His blood pressure skyrocketed and something ruptured in his brain. Terry actually saved my life. The program was set to increase the voltage continuously. I don’t know how high it would have gone if Terry had not intervened. He said he was watching the torture on the house’s video system, something he was strictly forbidden to do, but luckily his curiosity made him do it. He saw me thrashing and screaming, but had to stop watching to take a pee. When he returned he noticed that Sir had slumped back in the chair. Normally the video cams are placed to focus on the vic being tortured. These were, too, except that one showed Sir on the side of one of the screens.
Terry rushed down to the dungeon and turned the computer off, which shut down all the electricity. He felt Sir’s pulse and realized he was dead. Then he saw that I had passed out. He was frozen with indecision, but finally realized he had to call 911 for me and the police for Sir’s cadaver.
I was rushed to the hospital ER by two first responders who were astounded when they saw Sir’s dungeon and what had been done to me. The police had to arrest Terry until they could sort out the incredible story he told them about slavery, torture, abuse . . . you name it.
Immediate attention focused on me in the ER. Someone knew how devastating electro-torture could be even though it left almost no visible signs, unlike a whipping or caning. My balls were all swollen up and my dick was red/pulple. My nips and navel were also swollen, but that was it, no other signs of my torment. I found out later they gave me a shitload of pain killers, which kept me spark out for a day. When I did finally wake up, a policeman was in the room, eager to ask me what had happened. I told him the whole freakin’ mess, from executive retreat to private torture from Mr. DieQual. They told me he was indeed dead and quite beyond the law – at least him personally, but not his large estate.
My recovery was interesting. They had to strap me to the hospital bed so I couldn’t touch my privates while they healed. I was given a drug which would prevent erections, again in order to let the tissues heal. The night staff had a lot of fun giving me enemas. They had a vacuum-type machine which could pump liquids into your ass and then suck them out after they kept them in an hour or so, just to torment me. Ever have hot suds up your ass? Your gut insists it wants to crap, but the plug prevents it. You want to scream from the pressure and the pain, but they often stuck a towel in my mouth to stifle the noise. I did enjoy the beer enemas, which they treated me to every now and then, quite against hospital policy. What a goofy way to get buzzed! They also checked out my sex plumbing after the initial drug had cleared. They treated me to copious cums even strapped to the bed – or maybe it was better because I was strapped down. My cock was in good working order, no lasting harm from the electro, but they kept rechecking anyway. The bastards played with my nips, too.
Other cops came by periodically to double check my story. Terry came to visit me twice after he was cleared of any involvement in my tortures. He told me he stole all of Sir’s videos, his complete archive. He thought we could sell them for a lot of money. He quit the company so he could get away from all the other executives who had remote zappers. I quit, too, of course. Other than DieQual, we didn’t name any names so the pervy execs probably continued their “retreats’ and on-the-job tortures.
Terry removed his zapper but kept the CD on. It was a German model like mine and he said he didn’t want to take it off. He had my CD and key back at the house and had removed the zapper also. We had long talks about what we were going to do.
After a week, I was feeling much better and the physicians were satisfied with my progress. I was released in Terry’s care and we both went back to Sir’s house. Terry informed me Sir had actually changed his will and had named each of us as heirs to the house, although Terry was at two thirds and I got one third. I thought the split was fair enough, but the fact that Sir had done it amazed me. Terry said that Sir, in his own crazy way, did love us both. I could tell from his voice that Terry felt that way about his former Master. Yeah, I know it does sound crazy but I was beginning to feel that way, too.
So we split the money from selling the house, after we had all the dungeon stuff removed and donated to Larry’s, the leather bar in downtown Houston. I did note that Terry kept the electro-torture system for himself. He also got the big Mercedes. He wanted to move to LA. I wanted to stay in Texas, and I thought I’d move to Austin after I bought me a new F-150. We set up our torture video sales business on the web and quickly make a fuckin’ fortune on the sales. Must be a lot of Tops out there just craving for the real action shown on the videos. We didn’t even pixelate out our faces. Maybe someone might recognize us. Didn’t matter.
Terry found a new Master out West, pretty much as nasty/loving as Sir was. I got a job at the Motorola chip factory in Austin and cruise leather/cowboy bars, looking for my own new Master. I look good: shirtless, tight shorts, boots, and a chain locked around my neck for advertising. And, yes, I still wear the German cock cage, although I do remove it once a week to shave my crotch and maybe sneak in a JO. I tell you, once a slave, always a slave. God, I love this stuff! Bring it on, Sir! I can take it! You can’t break me, Sir!
Well, maybe you can, Sir. Let’s find out.