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The Interrogation Scene: a personal experience
Or, 50 ways to confuse your lover
by
Namzefder
All rights reserved.
(Author's note: about a year and a half ago, my submissive partner
(dnikki on the
BDSM board
) investigated the possibilities of an interrogation scenario.
This is the story of how it went!)
During conversation with my (submissive) partner nikki; she
raised the topic of interrogation within a scene. I pointed
out that I hadn't conducted anything in this field on any
great scale, but would give it some thought.
It occurred to me that there were several ways to approach such
a scene, a myriad of possibilities tumbled through my mind but
for the purposes of expediency I narrowed it down to just two.
I gave nikki the choice of either.
Scenario 1
Would take the form of the archetypal erotic torture, using
fiendish means, pain and threat to elicit answers. (Token
nod to countless war films)
Scenario 2
A more military style interrogation, not using Torquemada as
a role model, but rather employing psychological duress and
some physical strain.
Objectives
It became clear that objectives were important and could differ
greatly. Example: In using the torturous Scenario 1, I realized
that with determination I could probably make nikki admit/confess
to just about anything, it was probable too that under extreme
physical duress she would lie or say whatever she needed to, to
save herself. So, the integrity or validity of answers was brought
into question.
I figured this was fine and dandy if that is what you wanted
from the scene, but what if a more psychological approach
were taken?
For Scenario 2, I envisaged a scene whereby only truth would
be acceptable, and this gained more by a combination of persuasion,
trickery and disorientation than any applied physical pain.
(I could go on for pages re the nuances that became apparent both
before and after the scene, but for the sake of brevity will
plough on)
So, I discussed the outline of both with nikki, she asked
questions and eventually, after much umming and ahhing chose
Scenario 2. I briefed her pretty much as below:
-
The scene would last for as long as required.
-
She could only give the answers to 6 questions, the
answers being very specific). The six questions were (have
forgotten one): Name, Address, Daughter's name, type of car
owned, and favorite food, and were rehearsed before the scene
so she was aware of what was and what wasn't acceptable.
-
To all other questions she was to reply "I can't
answer that."
-
She was not to address me as Master.
-
During the scene, there would be two 'characters' (both me):
-
The interrogator, or questioner, identified by an orange
shirt (good cop).
-
A guard, identified by all black (baaaaad cop).
-
I explained that I wasn't looking for state secrets, but that
any information or connection gained outside of that agreed would
be considered a victory for the Dark Side.
With everything in place, it was time to kick off.
nikki began the scene naked and hands cuffed behind her, I sat
in a chair in front of her. She was initially nervous but retained
her sense of humor, smiling and managing to laugh. I pointed to
the large clock and told her that at a certain time she could
consider the scene had started.
Once the appointed time had passed my attitude shifted, I
began to leave uncomfortably long pauses in the conversation,
held stern eye contact for similarly long periods. This was
interspersed with rhetorical or open ended questions, such
as 'Well, what are we to do with you nikki?' or 'How am I
going to get this information from you, nikki?'
She, of course, didn't really know how to answer this (or
whether she should), I would ignore her 'I can't answer that'
reply, often speaking over it or brushing it aside. This, along
with the staring and pauses had the desired effect of confusing
her and putting her in a different mindset.
I persisted for some time before asking the first question, Name.
She gave this well, I asked her to repeat it, spell it, confirm
it etc, occasionally slipping in innocuous questions such as 'It
can be spelt a different way, cant it?' She resisted this nobly
with the pat answer.
After about 3 questions, despite nikki's impeccable answers I
affected irritability, becoming impatient, speaking over her
confirmations and answers. Eventually, I threw down the clipboard
(I was writing down mumbo jumbo as she answered) and told her with
exasperation that I would have to hand her over to the guard to
deal with. I stood, taking up a hood (actually a thick linen
cushion cover), placing it over her head and apologizing to
her that I had to do this, cautioning her that if she was wise,
she wouldn't move at all. I left the room audibly (slamming the
door).
I changed into black shirt and also, for effect, put on a black
sheer Halloween mask. I entered the room with force, wrenching
the door open to have her jump. I grabbed her roughly, lifted
her hood so that she could see my 'face' and received a gratifying
moan of dread. I replaced her hood and took mine off to be able to
see better. I draped a very heavy and long chain around her neck
(for weight and effect) and growled into her ear 'You're mine now'
(the only words spoken by the guard), then began some duress exercises.
This was straightforward positioning, holding out her arms at the side
or above her head for a strenuous period, or squatting uncomfortably
with arms in similar fashion. She would be brought to bear sharply
if her arms or legs wobbled, by rough handling.
My aim was to disorient her, and so I had tuned the radio to
static and turned the volume up full. I turned this on, and
watched as nikki jumped out of her skin (me too), the deafening
white noise having its effect. Switching the noise on and off
to punctuate activities.. i.e., on changing position would signal
the onset of more duress.
nikki had begun whimpering after a relatively short time and
so, at a suitable point I threw her to the floor in front of
the chair and left the room, leaving the white noise blaring.
I returned as Mr. Orange, turning off the noise and sitting down
by her. I lifted her from the floor with deliberate tenderness,
removed her hood, asking if she was ok etc, the epitome of human
kindness. She was visibly shaken, her head lolling, eyes trying
hard to focus, very similar to her appearance when spaced.
I continued with my smiling and conciliatory tone and asked if
she would mind carrying on with the questions. She didn't/couldn't
answer. I persisted, going over the previous questions and she
answered unsteadily but accurately, keeping to the brief.
The first minor victory occurred when on nikki giving one of her
countless 'I cant answer that' replies, I told her I was sick and
tired of hearing it and that she should just nod or shake her head.
She resisted this at first, but eventually, after repeated assurances,
succumbed and did as instructed.
I got to her Address question, and was going over it. Nikki
lives in Scotland, but the address answer she was allowed to
give did not include that part, I asked her if her county was
in Scotland. She gave the stock answer and again I became
affectedly irascible, asking her if she thought I was stupid
etc? She shook her head, but I took the opportunity to become
indignant and slip the hood over her head again telling her
that perhaps some time with the guard would persuade her to
be more forthcoming. Exit Mr. Nice Guy.
The Man in Black returned with a vengeance, grunting and snarling
as convincingly as possible. nikki was dragged to stand, her feet
kicked apart and her face slapped in a show of force. The white
noise was switched on, and nikki was masturbated ruthlessly until
she came, as the orgasm spilled over she was pushed to the floor
and literally pulled/dragged around the room by arms and legs.
She was then masturbated in a similar fashion, leaving her gasping
with both exertion and disorientation. Whilst in the throes of her
orgasm, I used my foot to 'kick' (actually push and prod) her around
on the floor. Without pause, I dragged her close to a hi-fi speaker
and made her kneel by it (she couldn't see it of course), draped
the heavy chain around her again, switched the sound off, then on
again, and left her there as Mr. Black made his exit. The whole
interlude took less than 10 minutes, which may give an indication
of how disorienting this activity may have been.
I took my time changing, and made some tea and toast. I re-entered,
switched off the infernal noise, placed the tea and toast by the
side of the chair. Again, I picked up nikki in a caring and gentle
manner, full of solicitude etc. I sat her as close to the tea and
toast as possible, taking a slice for myself. Her appearance had
deteriorated considerably, there was no discernible focus, the
lolling head was almost completely down.
I stroked her hair to comfort her, and continued my attentiveness
almost apologetic in having to do the questioning. She answered
all questions slowly but methodically, (much repeating as she
slurred considerably) making another slip as she described her
car in too much detail. nikki was beginning to unravel.
Sensing my advantage, I fed her a tidbit of toast and gave her
a sip of tea with a smile. Confusing her with kindness worked
well, and when I asked the final question 'Favorite Food'
(answer: Chinese Food) nikki went into a ramble about steak,
cheese, pasta and pavlova. So much so, that I had to prompt
her asking if she was sure. Eventually she rallied and gave
the correct answer.
I used this against her immediately, and gambled that Mr. Black
wouldn't be needed again. I ran through the questions, telling
nikki how good she had been, complimenting her etc... We ran
through the spelling and answers and I wrote them down
carefully. Throughout this, I repeatedly assured her we
were 'nearly done' and we could go and have some 'nice
breakfast'. Finally, I showed her the list of answers,
numbered 1 - 6, asked her to read them carefully (with her
foggy eyes) and sign at the bottom where I had placed the
dotted line with the word 'Correct' by it.
Completely undone, nikki did exactly that. On signing, I
became sharp, slapped her face, and said 'Look what you've
done! I can use your signature for anything now, can't I?'
nikki could only sob.
For me, I had my result and the scene was over. I told her
this, and naturally I gave her the regular aftercare. For
nikki though, there was only disbelief. It took her an
hour to really believe that I wouldn't go out and return
as Mr. Black, and another hour to shake her disorientation.
Notes/Comments
To say that nikki's experience and reaction during this scene
was strong would be a tribute to understatement. It has raised
scores of questions about ourselves, our observations and
attitudes. (She still jumps out of her skin when she hears
static)
nikki describes her feelings during the scene as being unique,
a completely different kind of 'space'.
In retrospect, I felt as if I cheated a little with the
orgasms and slapping, and the purist in me would have like
to have done the scene with no regular BDSM elements. This
is a little naive though, as its inevitable our D/s would
be present, it wasn't a realistic military interrogation,
rather an assimilated version under a D/s umbrella.
I had budgeted about 4-5 hours for my master plan to take
effect, the scene lasted for 1hr 20 mins.
The potential for future scenarios is limitless, I have
considered any number of variations on a theme, the
questions we've raised about the scene has triggered
the imagination considerably. What if we overlapped
this with erotic torture? How would the inclusion of
others affect dynamics? How would nikki or I react with
relative/respective strangers? What if the aims/information
to be given were changed? Many, many, thoughts.
We both agree that its not the sort of thing that could be
done as a weekly event, but as an exercise in discovery
and intensity it is definitely something for the future.
Comments? Similar Experiences? Views? Anyone?
Namzefder
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