237 The Unscratchable Itch
Vladimir, who had been asleep, could be seen having subtle eye movements despite having his eyelids closed, hinting that something was messing with him while he was in his slumber.
However, at the moment, he was unsure of the cause. Nonetheless, something seemed to be trying to interrupt his good sleep, something that he hadn’t experienced much since he joined the government, and due to his history as a former KGB agent, he was conditioned to always live with a perpetual sense of paranoia about someone or the other planning to attack him, since there was a possibility of retaliation from the people whom he might have crossed with during his espionage days as it was likely that would target him and try to seek revenge from him.
With a history of sleep deprivation due to constant vigilance, he would always be wary of any disruptions during his much-needed rest.
He desperately moved to and fro, hoping to shake off this disturbing thing so that he would be allowed to continue his sleep without being forced to wake up. Unfortunately, the irritation persisted and even became more annoying the longer he ignored it. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes, waking up in the hope of dealing with it as fast as possible so that he could return back to his sleep before he lost the embrace of drowsiness.
Upon waking up, he immediately realized what the cause of his discomfort was. He was being disturbed by an itch on his left thigh. At first, he attempted to alleviate it by scratching, hoping that he would be able to return back to his sleep immediately; however, even after fifteen seconds of constant scratching, he could still feel the sensation increasing, in fact, it didn’t even give him the ecstasy one would usually feel after scratching a constant itching spot, even if it was not disappearing.
Nevertheless, no matter how hard he tried to scratch the sport where he felt the itching. It was as if he was trying to scratch something that was covered with a glass surface, blocking his access to it, meaning he could do nothing about it. This only served to exacerbate his frustration.
Faced with this situation, he immediately opened his eyes to his surroundings and realized that he was in completely unfamiliar surroundings. This immediately sent his senses into overdrive, his body immediately pumping out adrenaline to wake him up and remove every last semblance of drowsiness he had. The previous scratching ordeal faded out of his mind as quickly as possible.
His focus shifted to his immediate environment as he tried to access where he was together with wondering how he got here in the first place, to this, his brain immediately reminded him of the beautiful woman whom he had either met yesterday or a few hours ago, who despite being able to speak Russian fluently didn’t seem like a native, followed by her introduction by saying she was from the Edenian Intelligence Department or something, only cemented his hypothesis about her affiliation.
“Where the heck on Earth did she bring me to?” he muttered, a blend of relenting in surprise at him having been defeated and being incapacitated even before he could realize, which was pretty embarrassing for him, who prided himself on his fighting ability and that being a loss against a woman only doubled down on his embarrassment.
But before he could delve further into any more questions and try to inspect his surroundings, his brain immediately reminded him of the itch he had forgotten about, thanks to the adrenal boost.
However, this time it had expanded to envelop his left knee and even spread upward until his left ball felt the itchiness which seemed to have now increased to nearly double of what it was when he woke up.
“ARGHHHH!” He groaned, his frustration and discomfort culminating in a desperate attempt to scratch it with his hand moving it up and down as fast as possible, his movements even reaching a point where even small traces of blood could be seen coming from his skin as he vigorously continued to scratch the location. But no matter how hard he tried to ease it, nothing about the itch seemed to have changed other than the itch increasing and expanding even further, now covering the rest of his private parts and moving to his right thing.
The experienced KGB agent who had been trained in the art of dealing with torture fell down to his knees as he desperately tried to scratch both his anus along with his balls and dick, which were the most itching regions, as they had more sensitive nerves compared to the combined area of other itching zones.
His desperation escalated as the sensation intensified as he moved from being on his knees while trying to squat so that he could have a wider access to all those three sensitive locations. After which, he started scratching them even more aggressively than he previously did, going against the famous Confucius quote – Only when a mosquito lands on your testicles, will you truly learn that there is always a way to solve problems without using anger and violence– since at the moment Vladimir was scratching both of his most sacred places as if he intended to rip them off him.
This continued for ten agonizing minutes until crumbles of the skin on his balls and anus could be seen in his slightly long fingernails which was a result of him continuously scratching them for that period which did nothing to alleviate the torment he was going through.
“ARRRRGHHHHHHHHH!” he bellowed, his primal scream an attempt to numb his brain so that even for a slight moment, he could forget about this sensation he was feeling, which had not spread throughout his entire being, leaving him utterly defenseless. He lay there, vulnerable and helpless as someone would be on the verge of death, his forehead showing a hint of damage whilst being covered by the soil– evidence of his desperate efforts to alleviate his torment by bashing his head on the ground, hoping to knock himself unconscious and escape from the agony.
Unfortunately, his attempt to overcome this agonizing torment proved futile. There was no respite, no momentary relief, and nothing of the sort of fainting after he bashed his head on the ground, trying to force himself to turn unconscious. He remained completely conscious, writhing in agony, as he followed by trying to exhaust himself by screaming until he ran out of energy and lay there helplessly, hoping for the misery to end as soon as possible.
After an agonizing five hours of this continuous suffering, Vladimir’s brain finally came to a decision to make him faint, and he closed his eyes slowly. As his eyes fluttered shut, a smile graced his face at the thought of being released from this tormenting ordeal.
“We are just starting,” these words echoed, which was followed by his entire body regaining energy and his brain canceling the fainting sequence that it had initiated, causing Vladimir to almost burst a vein in anger. Still, before he could even word his feelings, he found himself having been transported to a different location, while the itch completely disappeared like a mirage, leaving with him only the memories of the torment and the trauma of the ordeal where he had to deball himself in the pursuit of saving himself from the itch which brought him to no relief in the end.
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