Torture
by Kara


Warning: This story has hints of torture in it, but don’t despair . . . read on, it’s all okay in the end. Basically I wrote this while lounging in my tub, because I thought it would give Drena the willies and a big sigh at the end, and hopefully a laugh or two. It was a very quick thing I wrote, and please don’t expect Mel Brooks. It has to do with our dislike of torture stories, and what better way to express that, but to write one.

Thanks go out to Terri for her absolutely perfect suggestions. They definitely improved the story.




Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry were relieved of their sidearms, and ushered into a sparse room with two tables. A man was waiting for them. A man with quiet strength, and visibly determined to have his way. He never said his name, nor did he give the two a chance to speak.

“Welcome Mr. Heyes, Mr. Curry. It took us a while to catch up with you, but we have. Now we have a few things in store for you.” The man looked at a couple of henchmen. “Take them to Carson. He needs to start phase one, and then bring them back to me.”

Heyes and Curry followed quietly and easily, biding their time. They searched the room in vain for any way of escape.  Finally, they exchanged glances. They knew there was no way out. They didn’t want to think about what lay ahead. The room they entered was bright with several sick looking, slick, faceless statues. Each men pondered his fate amidst such strange surroundings. Another man met them in this room. They assumed this was Carson. He was more animated than the first, and had something of a leer in his eyes.

“Okay, let’s get this started. You obviously look like you’ve been on the trail. Dusty, dirty and grungy. That’s just not acceptable.” He made the boys change out of their clothes. They were a bit unsettled by this turn of events, but they were so disoriented by all they’d seen they had no fight left in them and soon actions followed commands. Raise your hands, step into a box, turn right, turn left and all met with a barely restrained desire to flee.

“Now you’re more suitable, but we need to tie this at your waist and this around your neck.” The men allowed the restraints only because they had no choice. The strange man fussed for nearly half an hour before returning the men to their previous location.

“Ah gentlemen. I think the treatment will be best facilitated side by side. This way you can see what is being done to the other.” Both men knew they were in for an experience they were certain they had never prepared for. “Please lie down on these tables.” Kid and Heyes looked at one another, uncertain about their immediate future.

“Please don’t make me ask again. Doing so will make the experience last longer than necessary.”

Heyes knew he should say something to Kid, but he really was beyond speech.

Talking to several men around him, their host asked for some sort of metal. “Work that under their nails really well.” Kid wished his gun was strapped to his leg. Better yet, in his hand.

The host turned to another man. “Sharpen that blade. I want this to be done with absolute precision. And you, bring me the acid.”

Both me tried to get up, but were quickly subdued. “What’s the acid for?”, Heyes finally choked out.

“To remove skin.” The man had a look of utter glee. Kid knew he couldn’t do this. If it were just him, he would fight his way out or die trying. But he knew that was impossible. Too many men, and there was Heyes. Heyes! He would have something up his sleeve. He looked at Heyes, searching for any sign of a plan. There was none. Heyes looked stunned. Sick. Kid deflated. Decided he would show everyone that Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes were no cowards. He could do this.

Oh God, he didn’t know if he could do this! At the first touch of metal to skin, he closed his eyes and searched for strength.

He was startled by the host’s voice. “Get Bruno in here. I want him to work them over when I’m done. I don’t want them to be able to raise a finger by the time this is all over. I want them boneless.”

The session as it was called lasted for an hour. The host wiped his hands thoroughly and inspected his work. “Excellent! A few more sessions like that, and no one will be able to recognize you.”

Bruno did exactly as his boss wanted, and both men were barely conscious. They were certain they wouldn’t be able to walk or sit up for some time. They heard the sound of the host returning.

“It’s time for the next step. It’s hot, and I mean really hot. I’m hoping your muscles will melt.”

Both men forced themselves off the tables. They wouldn’t show weakness. They would manage on their own. Each took a moment to make certain he wouldn’t fall. Heyes took a faltering step, and Kid made sure he had his back even in this.

They endured the next session, but their ability to function even more greatly reduced. Mercifully they were given a few moments to gather their strength. They used the time to figure out one thing.

“How did we get here, Heyes?” Heyes put his head in his hands at Kid’s question.

“A woman.” Heyes looked up for effect. “Again.” Kid simply nodded his understanding. Before they could speculate further, Carson returned.

“Let’s get you ready for the next phase. I’m to take you to Thomas.”

Kid and Heyes rose slowly using all their strength. They had faced many evil people, many good people, or so they thought, and many unknowns. This unknown scared them.

“Gentlemen, I’ll be dealing with you and leather. I’ve waited a long time for this, and I take great pleasure in what I’m about to do.” Thomas began to slowly reach behind him. Both men strained to see what awaited. When the man pulled the object forward, Kid threw up his hands and said, ”That’s it! I quit. Enough. No more! I’ll give you whatever you want, just no more.”

Heyes was rocked. He had never seen Kid give up. Although he had to admit if Kid hadn’t, he would.

Four other men ran out. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“I can’t take anymore.” Kid looked like he might just cry.

“Didn’t you like the couture?” Carson looked as if he might cry too.

“You didn’t like the massage, manicure and facial peel?” Kyan definitely pouted.

“No, no those were great. Well, except for the leather pants. They’re a bit too tight.” Heyes quickly tried to smooth things over.

“Well what? We shaved you, dressed you and even fixed that awful farmer’s tan, what the hell is it?” Carson practically hissed.

“Pink saddles? It was bad enough you thought I would look good in a pink shirt. I like red and blue, not pink.” Kid’s face was turning red and redder still when he realized Heyes was trying to swallow a laugh. “The damn shirt is red, Heyes. Not pink. It was decided two summers ago.”

“Fine. No pink saddle. Thom, what were you thinking? It’s Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. Not for the She Male.” Ted barked out while swirling red wine in a glass. Thom had the decency to look ashamed. He squeaked out, “it’s mauve, not pink, and it’s very in season.”

Jai was just upset that he couldn’t plan a social event for these two. Maybe even a party with a bank or train theme.

The Fab Five realized they weren’t going to make these two into some cosmopolitan men about town. They also realized life on the trail really didn’t allow for hair and skin products, although they got the men to take a moisturizer with SPF 15.

Kid and Heyes strongly praised the massage, bath and manicure, but said they would forgo the facial peel next time. Although taking some acid for Wheat might not be a bad idea.

Hugs were give to two very stiff outlaws. Which made the Fab Five somewhat stiff in their own right.

As Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry rode away, Carson yelled, “What’s the one word that can make a difference?”

Heyes yelled back in a broken voice, “zjoozjing!”

The Fab Five gave each other a hug and high fives for making a difference in yet another group’s lives.




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If you’re wondering what the hell that was you just read, well then you’ve never seen Queer Eye for The Straight Guy. If you get a chance, watch it and maybe some of this nonsense will make sense.

For those of you who have. I hope this was a pleasant diversion.