Three scientists in plain white lab coats, their faces aged beyond their years and heads shaved bald, sat quietly in a small control room. There were a few buttons protruding from a plain white console in the middle of the room. As was customary in the Federation, startling advanced technology was often disguised in bland, unimaginative and utilitarian machinery.
"Ah, good day Lieutenant Armstrong," one of the scientists greeted warmly as a tall, dignified gentleman in a blue Navy uniform entered the room.
All of the scientists stood, raising their right fist in front of their left eye in salute. The Lieutenant returned the gesture and, with a wave of this hand, the scientists sat back down at ease.
"Dr. Alexander, Federation Medical." the lead scientist introduced himself. "This is Dr. Kirby and Dr. Mayweather,"
There was the usual round of formal introductions. The Lieutenant had only had brief run ins with the highly secretive Federation Medical, and almost none of them involved actual medical technology as it would have been defined in the pre-Federation world. Federation Medical's main goal, the Lieutenant concluded, was to devise more and more sadistic ways of torture, presumably to better extract information from Rebels and to punish disloyal citizens. If they happened to make an actual medical discovery along the way, it was just another feather in their cap.
"So what will you be demonstrating today, Dr. Alexander?"
The scientist beamed with pride "It's a rather ingenious contraption..." without pausing, the good doctor pushed a button on his control panel. In the next room, a white chair materialized from the ground as if it was growing from the bland white material. Federation technology was truly advanced.
"Bring in the prisoner,"
The door leading into the room with the chair opened with a whoosh and a Federation guard entered holding a naked, struggling man. The man was dirty, as if he had been recently plucked from the Badlands, those unmentionable regions just beyond the glimmer and influence of Federation cities. He was just over six feet tall, with dusty brown hair and a wide face that was friendly looking even under the mask of fear. He was in decent shape, though hardly the rippling, muscular physiques of typical Federal citizens.
"We raided a Rebel camp the other day, but unfortunately they had burned or destroyed anything of value before we arrived. Maps, optical discs, everything. So all the intelligence is in their heads..."
As Dr. Alexander spoke, the guard sat the man down in the chair, his legs outstretched wide. Shackles appeared from the floor in similar fashion to the chair, as if out of nowhere, and secured the man's ankles. The guard finished up by tying the man's hands behind his back. He then took a long, rather blunt looking metal rod out of this holster and proceeded to ram it into the back of the man's neck. The prisoner hollered as the guard nodded toward the waiting scientists.
"We've isolated the parts of the brain that are active when deception is at play," Dr. Alexander began, "and that probe will light up this display whenever the prisoner tells a lie."
The Lieutenant nodded.
"It will also activate a microwave beam, effectively making the prisoner responsible for his own torture."
The scientist slipped a switch and a red, circular glow appeared on the prisoner's heaving chest.
"That light is the aiming beam. Let me just adjust..."
The scientists coldly fidgeted some knobs until the red glow had wandered down the man's soft six pack onto his testicles where were sitting lazily in the seat of the chair When he was satisfied at the aim, he directed the Lieutenant to ask the man a question.
The Lieutenant spoke through the glass and could hear his voice repeated on the other side after a short delay.
"What was the nature of your camp?"
The sobbing prisoner blurted out "It was just a farm camp, we don't have hydroponics like you Federation... AAH!"
The monitor in front of the scientists flashed blue at the lie and the man jumped, the heat from the microwave beam clearly starting to be felt.
The Lieutenant smiled cruelly.
"I'll ask again. What was the nature of the camp? What were you doing so close to a Federation city?"
The prisoner heaved, catching his breath before he spoke "We were plotting..."
This time the screen did nothing; the prisoner was telling the truth.
"Plotting what?"
"To blow up the Old Republic Bridge,"
The Lieutenantâ's eyebrow curled in disgust and a quick glance at the monitored proved his suspicion. The man was lying.
"Aaaah! OH GOD!" The prison wailed, red blisters starting to appear all over this boiling scrotum.
"I'll ask you again. What were you plotting,"
"I told you .... AHHH!!"
The man's head drooped back as the microwave beam intensified.
"The ... Old Republic.... Bridge... AAAAAH!" the man let out a blood curdling scream as the lie indicator flashed rapidly. It seemed that the more disingenuous the lie, the more the system reacted.
"The Old...."
SPLAAAAT!
Without warning, the prisoner's ball sack exploded into a shower of shredded gore. The boiling contents had blown apart the sack from the inside out. The stunned prisoner took several moments to fully comprehend what had happened, but then opened his mouth in a large 'O' and screamed non stop while the guard unshackled him and let him out of the room.
When he was cleared from the room, the Lieutenant turned toward the scientists, nodding his head tin approval
"Very impressive technology. So they were plotting something... hmm. Bring in the next."
The door to the interrogation room again opened, this time the guard was leading in a short pale skinned young man who couldn't have been more than twenty and very well built. His arms bulged with muscle, this chest was taught and well defined. His pecs were perfectly sculpted. His stony face showed no emotion, though he did let out a single tear as he was put into position. The red glow appeared over his large genitals to verify the aim was still on. His very thick, flaccid cock was lazily flopped over his balls as if acting as a sacrificial shield. The young man's icy resolve was finally cracked when he felt the probe boring into the base of his neck. He screamed and struggled futility and the begging started with such earnest he almost missed the Lieutenants request.
"I really don't want to hurt you," the Lieutenant sounded almost sincere, "I just need to know what you were plotting against the Federation."
"We... we were going to blow up the Old Republic Brid---- AAAAH!"
The lie monitor flashed rapidly, the man's cock began to swell and blister. A trickle of blood appeared from the piss slit.
Lieutenant Armstrong shook his head in disgust "Here we are with that same old song. So what were you doing?"
The prison pleaded, shaking his head violently as he shouted "We got ahold of some Prefed tech, a type of bomb..." the prisoner said sobbing, unable to finish this sentence through gasps for air.
The scientists and the Lieutenant glanced at the lie detector. It wasn't flashing. The Lieutenant phrased his next question deliberately; he wanted to be sure to get as much real information from this man as he could before he castrated himself.
"So, where did you find Pre-Federation Era weapons technology?"
The young prisoner's chest heaved, still trying to recover from the earlier roasting his cock and balls had received.
"We stole it from.... AAAAH!" the lie indicator flashed.
The prisoner's thick cock split in multiple places from the intensifying heat. His nuts were starting to sweat and blister. He tried to keep speaking, but the more he went on about the supposedly stolen weapon, the more intense the microwave became until...
SPLI----PS-Ssssss
The man's huge cock exploded into shreds and steam began to escape his boiling nuts with a loud hiss. The man, no longer able to speak, was not letting out one continuous drone but the lie indicator kept flashing.
"He must be, even in his fits of pain, still thinking about something deceptive. Otherwise..."
Mr. Kirby chimed in, his frail voice barely able to be make it over the inhuman screaming.
Lieutenant Armstrong smiled maniacally as the man's testicles burst into flames, then exploded with such force that the glass looking into the interrogation room was splattered with flaming bits of nut guts.
"He must have really been trying to hold something back. So they didn't steal the tech... hmm. Send in the next one,"
Without ceremony the guard roughly led the ruined young man out of the room and was followed by another guard. This guard was leading in a svelte, yet well-defined dark haired rebel who was crying and begging for mercy. He had only caught a glimpse of the mutilated crotch of his comrade, but it was enough to make the scared young man hysterical. Lieutenant Armstrong eyed the attractive twenty-something year old longingly, his eyes stopping on the enormous genitals swinging between his legs with each step.
"What a shame," the Lieutenant remarked sincerely as the red glow of the aiming laser engulfed the young prisoner's huge testicles and six inch, thick flaccid penis.
"What's your name?" asked the Lieutenant coldly, the young handsome man squirming in his chair.
"I'm Barrow,"
"Just Barrow?"
"Yes,"
"Heavens, no surname. How primitive," remarked one of the scientists with sincere derision.
"So, Barrow, where did you get the Prefed weapon?"
"Uh, um. We found it."
The Lieutenantâ's eyebrow furled but, to his surprise, the lie indicator stayed quiet.
"Hmm. So you're saying you just found it, abandoned?"
The young man thought carefully before he spoke "Yes, well, um. No, we were told where to find it."
To the Lieutenantâ's surprise the huge genitals weren't burned.
"Who told you?"
"I don't know his name..... AAH!"
The prisoner's handsome face was contorted in pain as his thick cock and testicles began to blister and bleed from the invisible heat. The lie indicator flashed slowly, and the Lieutenant, wanting to take advantage of the young man's pain wrought vulnerability asked the next question over the inhuman screams.
"Who pointed you to the tech?"
"Admiral Wallace....Ahh!" the prisoner sighed heavily as the heat suddenly dissipated. The lie indicator fell silent.
All three of the scientists audibly gasped, whispering among themselves in shocked disbelief. Even the usually stoic Federation guard had to bite his lip to avoid a response. Admiral Wallace was, after all, the head of Rebel Counter Intelligence, a respected Federation citizen. Yet here he was being called out, apparently truthfully, as a source of information for the Rebels.
The fact that this was all taking place inside of the Wallace Building for Federation Research was simply too thick for words.
The Lieutenant, his face growing red with rage, locked eyes at handsome young rebel, his pecs heaving as he caught his breath.
"Leave us,"
Dr. Kirby was about to protest that the scientists, as acting-Admirals, technically outranked the Lieutenant, but he was silenced by Dr. Alexander before the thought was spoken.
Before he left, the Lieutenant tapped Dr. Mayweather on the shoulder and asked if there was a manual override, a way to roast the prisoner's nuts without the need for the poor chap to be lying. Mayweather pointed to a plain looking black button on the far side of the control panel as he and the other scientists made their leave without saying another word.
"I said leave us, "the Lieutenant barked at the lone guard in the interrogation room.
The guard saluted then left the room in silence.
The Lieutenant eyed the prisoner for several minutes, not saying a word. He was truly breath takingly gorgeous, and -- as it had turned out -- had been quite helpful in helping to unearth a conspiracy that struck to the very heart of the Federation. In different circumstance, the Lieutenant would have taken this handsome Rebel on as a house boy servant, as was becoming vogue among officers in Federation cities. Surely it would be cruel to finish the task of turning the young stud's reproductive organs into flaming chunks of flesh... cruel, yet fun.
"AAAAH!" The prisoner screamed as Lieutenant Armstrong pressed -- and held -- the manual control button.
The microwave beam mercilessly sizzled the young man's package as he writhed in pain.
His donkey cock split and hissed as steam exploded from erupted pockets up and down its veiny length. His left testicle in particular was sweating and starting to bleed as the boiling contents were swelling and splitting the sack.
"Please! Stop! I'm telling the...."
Szzzz--SPLOSH!
The prisoner's left nut exploded, the enormous gonad showering his sculpted chest and abs with hot goop. The Lieutenant kept his hand on the button, continuing to roast the remaining nut and this cock .As the young prisoner screamed and begged for mercy, the Lieutenant licked his lips and smiled maniacally as he watched the huge genitals literally melting and boiling into soup.
The young man's cock was the next organ to go, bursting violently like an overcooked sausage, the bloody contents boiling even more and bubbling out of the thick vein as it continued to roast. The Lieutenant pressed down as hard as he could, although he wasn't entirely sure if that was actually having any effect on the intensity.
By now, mercifully, the prisoner had passed out. He gave out a weak whimper has this last ball exploded, burst from the inside out by the steaming pressure of the now liquefied, boiling contents. When the Lieutenant was satisfied by his work, he pressed a button on the communication console and summoned the guard back. The guard slipped on a pile of nut goop and nearly fell, which caused the Lieutenant to giggle slightly. While the comatose hunk was lead out of the room, the Lieutenant called the three scientists back into the room.
For a moment no one spoke.
"So, what are we going to do with this information?" Dr. Kirby spoke breaking the silence.
"I believe it's time for Admiral Wallace to try out your latest invention," Lieutenant Armstrong replied.
"If he's innocent, he's got nothing to fear."
----
Admiral Wallace had been dragged down to Central Interrogation and strapped into the seat within an hour. He was a powerfully built, tall man in his mid forties with large, hairy testicles and a thick, yet short penis.
Lieutenant Armstrong, this time joined by Admirals and others of much higher rank than himself, asked the question: "Was Barrow telling the truth?"
The watching crowd was silent. A reporter from the Media Bureau was filming the interrogation, streaming it liveto Federation households across the globe as a Media Bureau Breaking Alert. It had been decided that this forceful rooting out of sedition should be broadcast as a warning for all to see.
"No, he's lying," Admiral Wallace responded, his voice ripe with indignation.
The lie detector was silent, it appeared he was telling the truth.
"Manual override, now!" someone of a rank higher than High Admiral barked and Dr. Mayweather obliged.
Suddenly the captive Admiral began to scream and writhe, totally confused by the response to what was a legitimately true statement. As the microwave beam heated up, the destruction of his proud balls was captured in stunning high-definition holographic color by the Media Bureau cameras. His dark hair began to smoke, then erupted into flame like kindling. As he screamed his cock suddenly and violently split open, his right testicle exploded from the steam pressure. He was still awake, hollering like a demon, when his left testicle, though still whole, erupted into flames. The beams kept raosting and roasting until the Admiral's entire sexual package burst into flames, kept boiling and then...
SPLOOOOOSH! SPLASH
The Admiral's sex lifeerupted into a horrible, flaming explosion of splattered mess. The Federation viewers at home cheered as the traitorâ's manhood splattered in front of them in living color.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Armstrong looked on in bewilderment. It didn't seem possible that both Barrow and the Admiral were both correct...
"Someone must have been posing as Admiral Wallace. Our technology is infallible. Barrow, as far as he was concerned, wasn't lying." came a voice, a scientist Lieutenant Armstrong did not know.
"Well, we had to put on a show to make whoever was posing as the Admiral think they'd gotten away with it," a High Admiral said coldly.
Lieutenant Armstrong looked on at the ruined Admiral Wallace, a still flaming pile of goo sitting on the chair where his balls and cock had been just moments before.
"How unfortunate," Lieutenant Armstrong remarked to no one in particular and filed calmly out of the room with the others.
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