Competition Breeds Excellence in Captivity

Around the end of the first week, I took Zarina’s blindfolds off. She had gotten glimpses of her surroundings when the tape or sleeping mask had come loose a couple of times beforehand. After one side was knocked off her eye, I decided the shock value had run its course. I had noticed the slip, but I was too consumed with jackhammering Zarina’s bloody asshole while whipping her grisly back with a rhino hide sjambok to care in the moment. But apparently the gym lighting was like staring at the sun for her when blindfold first came off, and I could interpret her utterances as horror over having lost her eyesight. Months later she reported hallucinations while she had been blindfolded, though for all I know those were nightmares caused by the all the trauma. Could she even tell the difference between a nightmare and her waking life? The sensory deprivation had also been another security measure for me, but now she was too exhausted and wounded to pose as much of a threat or escape risk. 

On top of that, I expected that training Zarina would be easier when she could see what I expected her to do. I felt a thrill jolt my heart like no other high every time Zarina reacted with fear when she saw how I was about to torture her. This meant I had to repeat every one of the forms of torture from the past week, so that her memory of corresponding pain would be forever linked with seeing the implements and setup. I spaced each treatment out more to give Zarina’s mutilated body parts time to heal—at least that was my intention—though there was not much in the way of visible improvement. I was almost too concerned about the lasting impact of the most brutal treatments to repeat them. Almost. 

Of course the logical progression of such sadism was to run Zarina through all the punishments for a third time, in order to provide me the rush of watching the terror in her face, now that she could see what about to happen and remembered how much it hurt. This is how I filled my days for the first few months. I recycled old ideas when I was not creative enough or able research new forms of torture that did not leave a victim forever maimed. The third time, through, I did regret doing things like re-breaking her toes that had perceivably started healing. But I only felt guilty after I had already done it and to deal with the consequences, such as when I had to splint her toes again. 

The only good thing that I could tell myself about all this treatment was that Zarina was usually restrained too tightly to move much and the bones had a chance to bind back together. I also had been adjusting bondage positions to limit how much weight she had to put on her broken bones, as well as the duration of those positions. Some. I still simply had to watch again something like a ride the wooden pony on her cracked tiptoes for a little bit. Each session probably felt longer than the previous iteration for her, even if I tried to keep it shorter. I would not be surprised or feel ingratitude to learn that Zarina did not notice these paltry adjustments to preserve her body. 

Unshielded eyes presented two more targets. At the end of the first week, I wheeled her catatonic body strapped to a saw horse out to the courtyard. One reason I took her out to the inner courtyard was that I planned to get her some regular vitamin D from sunlight. But the particular reason why I brought out into the open air was that I wanted to test out different kinds of pepper spray on every orifice. And that was how I spent the afternoon.

I pried Zarina’s eyelids open with rubber gloves. I come prepared everyday, this time with eye speculums to prevent her from blinking. Her eyes bulged out when she saw the pepper spray cans and me putting on MOPP level 4: gas mask, gloves, boots and a coat and trousers issued by the military to protect against chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear hazards. She began to shout in protest but I cut her off by spraying one eye with the Sabre Red, and then the other with Fox Labs top-of-the-line competitor. Her screams initially sounded more like surprise at first, and I knew pepper spray often takes a few seconds to kick in and really get hot. But soon enough her pitch turned to real pain, though it was not the most anguished screams I had heard from Zarina. Being pepper sprayed is bad, but there are people who are either adventurous or stupid enough to volunteer for it.

What almost no one volunteers for is being pepper sprayed again, especially shortly after the first application. I removed the eye speculums and Zarina predictably immediately squeezed her eyes shut. I grinned because she did not see me aiming at the center of her ring gag. When the pepper spray hit her throat, it sent a jolt through her whole body. I could not hold back any longer and treated myself to an assfuck and the sight of tears and mucus splattering all over her face. She must have thought we were both done after I came deep in her bowels, because her bloodshot eyes bulged with the same surprise again when I sprayed the other brand in each eye. In future courtyard sessions, I would ask her which brand was worse after breaking my vow of silence. Not a real experiment, as I never collected a thousand data points across a double blind control study. But still, the scientific method helps me find my kind of happiness.

I had to be careful though, and only spray one part or pair at a time. The burning sensation took Zarina’s holes out of commission for at least several hours, as I was not about to risk hurting my own private parts. While I loved how the pepper spray turned Zarina into a red-eyed howling mess, I found that it proved too unwieldy and donning full MOPP protective gear myself was a hassle (everyone in my special operations unit hated training in it). There was too much blowback, even though I sprayed in the direction of what little wind there was in the courtyard. I found that I got paranoid about burning myself and it killed my sex drive to be handling her so gingerly. Then there was all the time wasted having to carefully strip off the protective gear and clothing and wash myself down thoroughly. 

So on other days I conducted similar trials with undiluted cinnamon oil and mustard powder, but halted once I saw signs of a skin rash, which had been documented as early warnings in cases that ended in second-degree burns. So I found a replacement ‘solution’ of sorts: pure capsaicin extract crystals diluted in a lab with the minimum ratio of oil for solubility. Pure capsaicin is rated at 16 million Scoville heat units. The Pepper X is the hottest pepper ever cultivated and registers less than 2.7 million on the Scoville scale, with commonly available peppers like habaneros coming in at the low hundreds of thousands. Fox Labs’ pepper spray starts with a 5.3 million Scoville heat unit extract, but it is then diluted over 90%. 

13 million Scoville heat unit drops can be purchased online (the enticingly named Pure Evil brand), but they are diluted with alcohol that could be dangerous to eyes or mucous membranes. Over my decades of punishing slaves I have used up to a 31:1 radio of capsaicin crystals to food-safe oil to achieve a 15.5 million Scoville scale drops, though I started with dilutions with lower heat ratings on Zarina to determine the safety. There is also a long-term play consideration for starting my new slaves with dilution that ‘only’ scores in the low millions: science has discovered that capsaicin reduces sensitivity to pain—once the spiciness subsides—and repeated doses build up a tolerance (people who grow up with spicy food love it). I can’t have my slaves feeling any less pain decades from now, so I had to start low.