This submission is more of a vignette than a story. Please note that I have posted this in the Non-consent/Reluctance category. It contains descriptions of people in captivity being coerced into sex, including anal sex. While there is little explicit violence, the story is a lot darker than my previous submissions here.
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The Scene
When Paul woke up, there was a familiar heaviness in his head. He didn't remember being gassed, but it was easy for them to gas him in his sleep. Even though it had been days since he had last needed correcting, he instinctively checked his body for any changes or modifications. He started by running his tongue around his mouth, checking for any new gaps in his teeth, while at the same time counting his fingers and toes. Then he started running his hands over his body, exploring himself for any suspicious bumps or incision sites. This was easy to do because, of course, he was naked. He didn't even have any body hair to get in the way. Whenever they knocked him unconscious, they always took the opportunity to remove any regrowth.
Paul's audit of his own body didn't turn up anything unusual, or, at least, anything unusual he didn't already know about. The artificial bump at the back of his neck was still there, ever present since the first day he had woken up in captivity. The electric shocks delivered by the device under his skin was the closest he got to communication from his captors. It took only a slight shock to change his behaviour. There didn't seem to be any point in angering his captors any more than he could help it. He fully believed the device could kill him if that's what they decided to do. He had heard, through whispered conversations with others during their scenes, of what happened to Nathan when he had lashed out and broken a camera. He had instantly collapsed to the floor, twitching and barely alive. When he had woken up back in his cell, he had discovered one of his teeth was missing. It was one of the ones at the back of his mouth - nothing that would diminish his appearance on camera - but the message was clear. They could just as easily have removed a finger, or much worse.
Once he finished checking his own body, Paul scanned his environment. His cell felt colder, but he had no immediate information about why that was. By his count, he had enjoyed five days at level 5 heat, the most comfortable setting they could earn. It was difficult to tell, but he guessed his cell was now at level 3 or 4. It was likely that someone, somewhere, hadn't done what they should have done, but at least he knew that Danielle probably wasn't involved. If she had been, it would surely be even colder. While everyone was punished for someone's transgression, the person themselves and their partner always got punished worse, even if the partner was completely innocent. He knew that his obedience helped keep his girlfriend safe.
Nothing appeared different when he looked around his cell. The lights were on, indicating he was in the 'daytime' part of the daily cycle. Whether this corresponded to actual daylight outside, he had no way of knowing. The only things he had to look at were his bed, his toilet, his sink/drinking fountain, the door in the front wall and the hatch in the back wall. And the cameras, of course. Judging by his levels of hunger, Paul suspected that he had been unconscious for some time. He knew from experience that the lack of pressure in his bladder didn't mean anything. He always found it disconcerting that they emptied his bladder whenever they had him unconscious.
The light came on over the hatch in the back wall, so Paul immediately opened it. There on the shelf were some clothes, an energy bar, and a Viagra. Any one of those items would mean that he would soon be required to perform a scene. He quickly ate the energy bar. He knew it would do little to satisfy his hunger other than giving him just enough energy to perform. He knew he would have to wait until after the scene before he discovered if he were still at level 5 food, or whether that had been reduced as well. Once he finished the energy bar, he took the Viagra.
Eventually Paul forced himself to put on the clothing. Normally he liked getting dressed, even though he had long ago stopped being concerned about who was looking at his naked body through the cameras. But in this case, the clothing was an ominous sign of what might be to come. The costume was an old US Army uniform, maybe from WWII or the Korean War, just the shirt, trousers, and fake leather boots. They hadn't bothered to give him underpants or socks. Paul knew enough to know that, whoever his captors were, they saw Americans as their enemy. Having him dress like an American soldier meant that he was meant to be the bad guy. Maybe he needed to look like he was hurting someone, or someone would be hurting him. While his fellow actors would do what they could to avoid any real pain, it wasn't always avoidable.
The irony was not lost on Paul that, not only was he not American, but none of them were. Paul and Danielle were from New Zealand, and everyone else was either from New Zealand too, or from Australia or Britain. They knew this counted for nothing in their current predicament. To their captors, they were just convenient white people. It did mean that they had gotten in the habit of performing with American accents, a diversion which helped them to disassociate themselves from what was happening and keep some semblance of sanity.
After Paul sat on his bed for an unknown length of time, the light above the cell door turned green. Paul immediately stood up and went through it into the corridor beyond. The corridor went a short distance to both his left and his right. There was a green light above the door on the right, and Paul went through that one as well. There was no point trying any door without a green light - not only was it sure to be locked, but he was likely to earn a jolt in the neck for his troubles. All the corridors had cameras in them. Whether the people watching him were in the same building, or even on the same island, wasn't known and wasn't important. Even if they were on the other side of the world, their power over him was complete. He obediently followed the green-lit doors until he arrived at the room that they had started referring to as backstage.
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Paul had seen his captors very briefly when he had been captured, but it hadn't given him any clues as to their identity. He and Danielle had been on holiday together, booking a week in an island resort off the coast of one of those countries in South-East Asia. The resort had been small - just ten chalets - and not particularly luxurious or easy to get to. They had spent three uncomfortable hours on a small boat to get there. The remoteness had been part of the attraction, with its unspoilt beaches and coral reefs. The resort had appealed to likeminded people, as evidenced by the nine other young couples they met there.
Their captors had arrived on boats whose engines were easily heard in the still night air. There had been some shouting in a language he hadn't recognised, although that might have just been the resort staff shouting, not the invaders. Within minutes, the shouting stopped and the power went out. Paul and Danielle quickly pulled on some clothes by the light of their cell phones after checking that their door was locked, but it made no difference. Their door soon swung open anyway and they were blinded by powerful flashlights. They were too stunned to put up much of a fight, and the hands that grabbed them knew how to subdue them. Paul felt a needle enter his neck, and that was the last memory he had.
