[BG Honda] Lie detectors and electrical torture.

Ishiguro Junpei wakes up strapped naked to an interrogation chair, electrode pads taped to his inner thighs and a polygraph cuff squeezed around his bicep while a calm, unseen voice announces ten questions that must be answered truthfully. His muscular, sweating body is pushed through escalating torments—played-back audio of his own moans used against him, coiled electric wires around his cock, and finally a vacuum milking machine sealed over him that wrings climax after climax out of his straining frame no matter how desperately he protests the 'perverted tool.' By the tenth question he's a drenched, dazed wreck slumped in the restraints, and his breathless refusal to continue lands as the last lie the machine catches.