The Best Method of Torture

there are two distinguishable methods of torture. one applies to most people, and is as ancient as time itself. the other is a modern one, and since it applies to arabs, commanders in the glorious IDF will tell you, off record of course, that you can pretty much ignore any talk of pain limits, conflicting orders and punishments for those inflicting so much pain on prisoners. just give me information, they say, or at the very least have a great time.

i, however, found a much better way, one that increases my gratification by 18%-22%. it also gives me a great erection with which i stroll the streets of jenin, scaring women and young children, that is, potential future prisoners. you see, my method is simple: i never bring any prisoners in. i do what i do in their houses.  

we all know the routine: you bring ‘em in, you sit in front of them. you interrogate. you slap. you sucker punch them. you press their balls with that shining boot. you deprive them of sleep. you use cold water in winters and acid in summer. you use sharp metal scalpels and break them, leaving the lion’s share in the blood system. There is, in other words, very little room for creativity.

if, on the other hand, you tie them up in their own homes – this is where it gets interesting. first, there is that sense of euphoria, the healthy excitement deriving from the fear of being caught. if he yells… someone might come. there might be some shootings, and even though arabs are the worst snipers, getting out would become slightly challenging, and besides I simply hate working in a noisy environment. their silence, therefore, becomes a key factor to my method. i like to keep them quiet by keeping their mouths full and their lungs hurting. i use china for that. nice looking plates, some might even be antiques, i guess, make this thumping sound when they are thrown against the ribs. i use their silverware to poke the eyes and the nostrils. i make small cuts on their skin, so they never feel as we have crossed the line. i use their silent resistance as my own little pep talk. i demand more of myself. this is how i got to the artistic idea of using blunt objects as tools of incision whilst the sharp objects are mostly used in something resembling batting practice, yet seldom i simply cannot suppress the urge and shove it gently up their anus.

to sum (writing this fucking post took forever), discernable boundaries are a must when you torture – they help you become creative. i think over time, my prisoners will come to respect that, and perhaps even to appreciate it as well.

 

Near Future Terror

summer. heat. jenin. again. alone. again.

staring at the street, i figured only a dozen people know this ugly city as well as i do. and of the dozen, i must assume that six or seven are here with me. they are not like me. most probably, they are unlike me. they suffer quietly, while i, naturally, hate them for it. it’s not only that, since there are so many other reasons to hate my fellow troopers. they are dumb, numb, but mostly they are ugly, and i hate being surrounded by ugly people.

it’s not that the house dwellers are better, i think whilst tightening the ropes that keep them in that inhuman position in which they have been locked for more than an hour now. or is it two? who cares. if you were in my position, you would probably despise everything about the people who inhabit jenine – if you insist on calling arabs people – and yet, that woman who looks at me with that look that can only mean one thing. she wants me to rape her.

and i am fighting the will. in just a few minutes, my comrades will depart for yet another useless patrol, and i can easily let her out of the ropes, drag her screaming to bed, and show her how an IDF soldier performs in bed. i may also thrust a nice thing up her ass, just so that i can see the pleasure in her eyes.

fuck, i will try to get it on tape and put it on youtube. wouldn’t that be awesome.

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