The Garage
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As he was led to the garage, he was still otherwise naked, except for the muzzle. Jack's muzzle, during this lesson, would
serve to deaden his screams in these wee hours of the morning so alarmed or nosy neighbors wouldn't be awakened and alert
the authorities.

Wendy whispered in his ear, “Not so much as a whimper, Jack,” as they approached the garage.

The overhead door was raised and his captors pushed Jack forward to see his next horrifying lesson in control. The
door remained open.

There was only one dim bulb hanging from a cord in middle of the garage's ceiling. With its light, Jack could see a stool
in the center of the concrete floor, and he approached it with trepidation. He would be on display for the women beneath
the bulb that worked like a spotlight in the otherwise darkened garage. With the door open the way that it was, Jack felt
that any of Terri's neighbors could just see what was going on and wander over to observe or help in his abuse.

“One whimper and your sleep will be mighty uncomfortable tonight, Jack. I'm warning you,” stated Wendy firmly. “Do you
want that? Do you?”

Jack nodded in affirmation, but he knew that the odds of succeeding were not with him if Wendy was making a big deal about
his “whimpering.” Just what diabolical torture had Wendy invented for him in this lesson plan?

Surrounded by the six women, Danielle and his own wife, Sandi, who stood alone cowering in the corner of the garage, Jack
saw a three-foot high stool had been equipped with a twelve-inch long, two-inch diameter copper pipe with a threaded male
adaptor at its apex. The pipe extended straight up through center of seat, so its full twelve inches and knobbed head were
the focal points of Jack's full attention. He knew the pipe's intended use and he started to shrink back in the crowd of
women trying to make a path for the opened overhead door. Terri and Danielle blocked his escape, and Heather and Jill
grabbed his elbows and pushed him forward so he could see the rest of the stool's elaborate design and what lay in store
for him over the next couple hours.

The copper pipe was actually much longer than the twelve inches visible above the stool's rim. After making its way through
the three-inch-thick wooden seat, the pipe extended another three feet down near the floor of the garage. Although he could
not see it from his vantage point, the bottom of the copper pipe was equipped with a spring-like actuator that once
depressed would make contact with a three foot by three foot copper plate on which the stool stood.

Jack was forced to lift his ass high to make it over the tip of the pipe's terminal fitting. He couldn't exactly sit down
on it, so five of the women closest to him grabbed him under his arms, lifted his legs and perched him above the
threatening intruder.

Cindy held up a tube of something for the women to inspect. “Conductive gel, ladies. The finest conduit of electricity
money can buy these days.” With that introduction, she coated the pipe with a large dollop of the greasy, gray Vaseline-
like substance, then the women lowered Jack down on his inflexible copper dildo.

Once he started to slip down on it, the ladies released him and Jack struggled quickly to put some space between his ass
cheeks and the stool's seat by extending his legs, otherwise he would have been immediately impaled on the intrusive
device. Little did Jack know that his feet were planted firmly on the three-foot square copper plate on the floor.

Cindy and Wendy went about encasing Jack's engorged penis in a six-inch length of coiled copper tubing with leads that
extended outward just below his glans and again at the base of his shaft. Terri had the honors of inserting a long bent
piece of 1/4” copper tubing down Jack's already sensitized urethra then attaching a heavy duty alligator clip to Jack's
tongue beneath his muzzle.

Danielle was permitted to outfit Jack's feet into specially manufactured “tap shoes” with copper plates extending from toe
to heel. The shoes took on the appearance of ballet slippers, especially the way that the laces were wrapped around Jack's
ankles to prevent them from falling off.

Wires were then attached to the leads on Jack's cock, to the tubing stuck down his shaft, to his tongue and to his metal
shoes.

Then, Wendy wheeled out a utility cart on which was an old power supply complete with vacuum tubes and analogue dials. She
plugged the one end in the AC on the wall and connected the other leads to the floor plate and the conductive elements of
Jack's outfit.

Jack saw what was about to happen, realizing full well that he was perched atop an electric chair of sorts, with Wendy in
charge of dispensing the voltages desired to make him dance. He started to utter something under his muzzle then stopped,
remembering Wendy's stern warning about whimpering.

The copper pipe deep inside his rectum would surely ride down the spring at the base of the stool and the actuator would
conduct electricity into his colon if Jack put his entire weight on the tubing. If he “swallowed” the entire length of the
plumbing  above the stool's seat, by lifting his feet completely off the base plate on the floor, he would be electrocuted
inside his ass. The stool's design was simple yet highly effective.

Soon enough, Jack would realize that he wouldn't have a choice in this matter as the current started arcing through the
base plate making direct contact with his slippers and sending a surge of electricity through the tubing in his penis and
through the coil around his shaft. His tongue received the same voltage and he was indeed dancing around on the plate below
him. Unable to stop the current flowing through and around his cock or to his tongue, Jack could prevent his feet from
being zapped by lifting them and accepting his fate of absorbing the long pipe fully inside his ass. As he lifted his feet,
he indeed “swallowed” the pipe, but in doing so, the bottom of the  copper tubing came into contact with the floor plate
and his rectum was filled with a surge of current.

Actually, it didn't matter what he did, Jack was suffering a fate worse than instant electrocution. Wendy played with the
power supply ramping up the current to watch Jack jump and writhe in agony. Applause rocked the garage and Jack watched in
horror as an interior and porch light came on in the otherwise darkened house across the street.
Jack let out a little whimper as a woman from across the street came over with a flashlight to observe what festivities
were going on. Danielle heard his sigh and reported it immediately to Wendy.

For hours the women watched as Jack danced and danced and danced – the women all taking turns “dialling up” Jack to their
own personalized electric light show and “dance fever” settings.

Then, when all hope was lost, Wendy disconnected the leads to the floor plate, Jack's shaft, feet and tongue. He was
drained and hoped against hope that they would release him or at least let him rest. He saw one of the women's wristwatches
and realized that it was three fifteen in the morning.

He waited anxiously for Wendy to remove the copper tube deep in his bladder, but she did not. Instead, she showed him a
long electroplated brass tube with a flared long nut on its business end. She attached a cable to the other end then put on
a pair of thick electrician's insulated rubber gloves. Pulling the original copper tubing from his erect cock, she replaced
it with the brass, then hooked it up to the power supply. As she plunged it in him, Jack realized that she was going to
rape him in front of the other women by fucking his urethra and bladder sphincter with the cruel device.

“You'll cum now for me and your audience, Jack. Just a lead-in to what you'll endure for the rest of the night and weekend,
my dear.” As his wife watched from the corner of the garage, unable to voice a simple protest to end his agonizing torture,
Jack danced a new dance atop the stool. He looked on in misery as he saw the other women donning electrician gloves too,
anticipating their own turns of probing Jack with the brass tube.

Wendy just leaned over and whispered in Jack's ear, “I said, 'not a whimper' or else. So do yourself a favor and cum
quickly so we can start your next lesson.”

Jack's eyes welled up as the current surged inside his shaft and the nut penetrated his bladder. He had to pee badly, so
which would be worse – cumming or peeing – in front of these women? He feared peeing because he thought he would be
electrocuted for real, so he tried to concentrate on cumming. For once, he hoped to cum so he could end this element of his
series of weekend-long torments.

Jack did cum in the garage while he still straddled the copper pipe while sitting on the stool. No one thought Jack could
avoid cumming, least of all – Jack. The women reconnected the base plate beneath the stool and lifted his legs. Drawing out
his ankles almost into a cheerleader's split so he could feel the full effect of the high voltage twelve-inch monster stuck
up his ass, the other women took turns prodding his urethra and bladder with the electrified brass wand. With the repeated
probings of his shaft with the pipe, especially with the flared nut on its end penetrating Jack's bladder opening, he could
not stop himself from cumming. Then almost immediately afterward Jack started to pee despite his huge erection. The women
watched as he ashamedly lost control of his bladder and covered the garage floor with Jack juice.