This is a description of a fairly intense, brutal SM scene. If you aren't able to cope with that, please don't read it.
Read the preparations if you haven't already.
We had dinner before play at Asia SF, a very good restaurant in San Francisco that features, umm, "gender illusionists" as waitstaff. Yes, all of the waitstaff is Asian trannies. The food and drinks are quite good, and once an hour you're treated to a show as the staff dance on the bar.
Once we got to the Citadel, I was happy to find out that it was a relatively quiet evening, with few people playing. I made sure that P and I spent some time connecting before we headed downstairs to play. For once, I insisted on safewords, and we agreed that red would mean that the scene would have to stop at least temporarily. I normally eschew safewords in favor of plain English, but tonight I wanted to make sure that we both knew we could stop the scene with no ambiguity.
I knew exactly what playspace I wanted, and that was basically a bunch of mattresses on the floor. I wanted to be able to kick and shove him around and for him to have room to move without hurting himself. I had a brief chat with the DM and the owner of the space, so that they both knew what would be going on.
The toy he brought, the one that he would "really rather I not use on him", was approximately what I expected-- his stun baton. Since I had my own stun gun with me I had no intention of using his, but I made him give me a quick rundown of the controls before pointedly setting it within arms' reach.
I asked him to take off his clothes, put ankle cuffs on him, then put the hood over his eyes so that he couldn't see the rest. From there I put the boxing gloves on him, followed by leather cuffs over the wrists of the gloves. Finally, I fastened his wrists together with a carabiner, fastened his ankles together similarly, then used a third carabiner to fasten his ankles to his wrists. The setup turned out to be perfect-- he had room to move and squirm, but couldn't really straighten out. Perfect!
"Please just sit here. I'll be back in a bit."
While he sat quietly on the edge of the mattress, I pulled out the rest of the toys for the night then set the toybag aside. I stepped away a few feet, and changed from my street clothes into jeans, the wifebeater, and boots. I grabbed the pipewrapped PVC pipe, then walked about ten feet away and waited several minutes. I wanted to give him time to stew so that I could catch him off guard, and also to prepare myself. I felt very much like an actor waiting in the wings to go on, and tried to settle myself into the character I wanted.
While I was waiting, one of the dungeon regulars spotted him and got curious. "Why was this guy sitting in the dungeon wearing a hood and boxing gloves, with nobody else around?" I motioned him aside and gave him a quick rundown of what was happening. I'm pretty sure P didn't pick up any of it.
When I felt like the time was right, I very quietly walked over to stand in front of him. I quickly shoved him backward by his shoulders, then whacked him hard on the upper arms with the pipe. "OK, asshole. Where the fuck is it?" My voice was low, almost a growl.
I hit him again. "You know what the fuck I'm talking about. Where is it?"
I got a smartassed answer back, so I whacked him on the arms again and then on the legs. This is fairly brutal SM play-- no warmup, no time to ease into the scene, just hitting the ground running at full intensity. My goal was to drop him instantly into headspace, and keep him a bit off balance too.
He fell into the scene pretty quickly, and I was surprised to see that I was holding my mood perfectly. I pushed, gave him time to recover, and kept the interrogation pressure on.
"It's in my black bag."
Whack, whack, whack. "Bullshit. You know better than that. It's too big for your bag."
He started running through the list of things I might want. "The car? No, you don't want that." "You don't want the bike; it's all scratched up." "My ego?"
I switched to the uncoated pipe, and started hitting his arms, his legs, and when he rolled around his ass, pacing it so that he didn't have quite enough time to recover before the next one. I could see the fight rising up in him, and he started kicking at me. Luckily, he had very limited range so I could stay out of his way.
"Fuck you, asshole. Where is it?"
At some point the hood came off. I tried to put it back on with the comment, "If you see where you are, I'm gonna have to kill you." I wanted it on because I was afraid of losing the character and cracking up laughing. It wouldn't stay, though, so I eventually just did the rest of the scene without.
I sat down next to him. "Look, we can do this the easy way or we can do this the hard way. Just tell me where it is, and you can walk away. I'll untie you and let you out of here, and it will all be over."
"I don't even know what you're looking for."
Whack! "Bullshit. Do you think I would have brought you here if you weren't the guy?"
This alternated for a while, with some fairly brutal hits, kicking him with my boots, some fighting back, and a lot of verbal pressure. The next time I went good cop, we this exchange.
"It's encrypted, and I don't have the key."
Whack! "You mean to tell me that you're just some pansy-assed grunt? You're not the guy?"
Whack! "Bullshit. I know better. Now where the fuck is it?"
Later, I pulled out my knife and held it against his throat. "You know, all I'd have to do is move my hand a couple of inches and you'd be dead. Nobody knows where you are, and nobody would care if you were dead."
Whenever I saw him start falling out of the scene, a couple of whacks on the upper arm would bring him right back into focus.
I pulled out the taser and zapped it a couple of times in the air. I could see, "What the fuck? Oh shit!" flash across his face, and wasted no time in giving him a zap on the leg. The anger on his face was quite obvious, and he kicked and swore at me.
A couple of times, he stopped to check in with me. "Are you OK?"
In my normal voice, I answered, "I'm fine." And then back to the growl. "Where is it? Are you going to fucking tell me or not?"
When he started crying I was pretty sure we'd gotten to where he wanted to go, but I didn't let up.
Finally, I made him roll onto his side, zapped the stun gun a couple of times for noise, then pushed the lamb prod against his balls. "OK, I'm going to count to ten. You can talk, or not, it's up to you."
"Three. You gonna talk, motherfucker?"
"Eight. Still don't have anything to say?"
"I do. Red."
I tossed the toys aside and looked into his eyes. He was OK.
"And if you untie me, I'll give you a big hug."
I did, he did, and it was wonderful.
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