Competition Breeds Excellence in Captivity

When I felt like taking them time to be especially heinous, handheld shock weapons simply were not enough. After I had gotten the day’s early impatience out of my balls, I could take the time to first make sure Zarina was suitably restrained for both my safety and that of her joints and bones. Then I could set up one of the big events that day, such as carefully wiring copper jumper cables or custom-made copper 7-gauge needles to pierce the most sensitive parts of the female body. Copper is the second best conductor of electricity, and does not oxidize or tarnish on contact with air and thus lose its conductivity like the best conductor (silver). 7-gauge needles are the thickest commercially available and 5.6X thicker than your average needle used for drawing blood. Thicker needles carry more electrical current and resistance is also inversely proportional to the thickness. Studies of reported pain levels from needles in the typical mid-20s to 30 gauges for injections are mixed on whether the bigger ones hurt more. But the special operations medics I trained with all bragged and bitched about “18 gauge appreciation day.”

BDSM always targets the sexual organs of the clitoris, vagina, nipples, and anus. But neurology teaches that nerve endings are packed into the finger tips, forehead, arch of the foot, and funny bone. What’s more, there is little skin, fat and muscle to protect these targets. Practically speaking, I always tried to show some foresight and rotate through all kinds of attacks on Zarina’s entire body beyond the obvious three places, in order to give every part time to heal. By using electricity, I could spare her skin and get down to the roots of the human anatomy that experience pain.

I had commissioned multiple free-standing power machines on wheels to be able to control the voltage, current, wattage, duration and even schedule random or periodic DC jolts. Call me lazy, but sometimes I would be ‘otherwise’ preoccupied and could not manually administer bursts from a handheld device. That is why I contracted with some factory engineers to program these power supplies to connect to the apartment’s voice-command and remote control system. 21st century autonomous factories have very similar controls to modulate power. The addition of a commercial fingerprint reader was not out of the ordinary either. If I came to trust select slaves enough to train new girls, I could add users in the future, with a sliding scale of authority to inflict the upper boundaries. Pressure switches in predicament bondage were another option for doling out zaps. For example, during one of my longer breaks I amused myself with a variant of watching Zarina try to stay up on her broken tip-toes to avoid touching the pressure switches below her ankles.

The only drawback of electrical torture from my perspective was that I had to be careful about avoiding shocks myself. That meant that every part of my body had to be well clear of Zarina, to avoid the risk of her spasms connecting me to her electrical circuit. My primal urge for capturing a sex slave was indeed for sex, not torture, so this posed a quandary for me. But as everyone reading this knows by now, witnessing pretty girls’ suffering is my paramount kink. The long-term answer, of course, was that I had to acquire more sex slaves. But for now Zarina would have to quench both my lust and sadism.

Thus my early designs for electrical torture were impeded by my own self-preservation. For one of Zarina’s first electrical tests, a handful of frighteningly long 7-gauge copper needles were stabbed into her cervix and then conducted an increasing current. Zarina was strapped down to a table on her back, with her head hanging over the edge for ease of throatfucking. When she gagged and pulled away, or became desperate for air, I sat back on a chair which had a pressure switch under the cushion, until I thought she had enough or as my biological urge outweighed my sadism. Zarina would wince and clamor from the spears in her womb, but the correct instinct kicked in when she felt the head of my cock brush her tongue. Having had four orgasms already before lunch, I maintained my self-restraint and let Zarina take me as deep into her ring gag as she could, instead of reaming away. I envisioned today’s contraption as one of many important training aids to improve her deepthroating.