Interrogation
Jane knew she was in trouble. She only let her guard down for an instant and here she was, captured by the enemy, being held God knows where. The ropes holding her wrists were rough and cut deeply into the flesh. The beating had yielded nothing to her tormentor. Name, rank, serial number. That’s it. She knew he had opened up several deep welts on her ass and that her back was bleeding too. Bruises blossomed on her full breasts. Her pussy ached from the skilled application of his bare hand. Her split lip was starting to scab over again, but she knew he’d re-open it with a slap or a punch soon enough.
She shivered in the cool damp air of the darkened room. She had been naked but for leather cuffs on her ankles and ropes on her wrists for…well she lost track of time. Three days/ Four? It might have been ten or one.
The lock clanked and the door squeaked open. Three men entered. She recognized her tormentor’s voice.
“There. Bring her to room 7. Place her on the object and tie her arms back. Make sure she is wearing that ankle spreader. We can’t have her running away.” he cackled.
Two men in dark green coveralls untied her and put a hood over her head. They led her, with difficulty out of the room, down a hallway and into a second room. Obviously room 7 was very large because every sound echoed.
They pulled her arms behind her and tied them securely then stretched them out behind her. The pain in her shoulders was intense at first. It slowly deadened into a dull ache. She felt a large gloved hand on each shoulder force her down into a sitting position. She braced herself. What would it be? Spikes? Broken glass? Tacks?
Cool, wet, soothing on her tortured ass. The hood was pulled off and she squinted in the bright light.
Ice.
She was sitting in a block of ice. She resisted the urge to moan softly at the relief. After all, her legs were spread as wide as they could go and her arms were almost out of their socket. She looked up as the door opened. Her tormentor entered. A big bear of a man with a stiff leather paddle in one hand and a cruel looking single tail whip in the other.
“Shall we begin then?” he asked.
“Jane Everett, Sergeant, Serial number-” His backhand across her face cut off her hundredth repetition.
“Enough of that slut.” He matched the backhand with a forehand slap. Jane felt warm drops fall from her split lip, opened again. Drops of red pooled in the water between her legs.
He had dropped the single tail to slap her. He now took a dozen heavy strokes with the leather paddle across her belly. He paused to lift her face by the chin to meet his gaze as he moved up to her big tits and beat them another dozen strokes.
“How do you like my new toy, slut?” he asked, picking her head up by the hair and waving it in her face. She spat at him, catching him in the mouth. He calmly scooped it off his face, slathered it on hers and even more calmly punched her in the belly.
She gasped for breath, unready for the blow.
“How does your ass feel now?” he asked.
This made her notice that the relief had turned to pain as the cold seeped into her ass and the folds of her shaved pussy.
She scowled at him as he picked up the single tail and began toying with her strong thighs. A series of light taps followed by two or three hard blows, then a gentle caress up her thigh to tickle her freezing pussy.
“Get on with it asshole. Do your worst wimp. Go for it. You’re never going to get me to talk!” She said, trying not to shiver.
He stopped dead in mid swing and lowered the whip. A sad smile crossed his face. “What makes you think I want you to talk?”
She shivered in the cool damp air of the darkened room. She had been naked but for leather cuffs on her ankles and ropes on her wrists for…well she lost track of time. Three days/ Four? It might have been ten or one.
The lock clanked and the door squeaked open. Three men entered. She recognized her tormentor’s voice.
“There. Bring her to room 7. Place her on the object and tie her arms back. Make sure she is wearing that ankle spreader. We can’t have her running away.” he cackled.
Two men in dark green coveralls untied her and put a hood over her head. They led her, with difficulty out of the room, down a hallway and into a second room. Obviously room 7 was very large because every sound echoed.
They pulled her arms behind her and tied them securely then stretched them out behind her. The pain in her shoulders was intense at first. It slowly deadened into a dull ache. She felt a large gloved hand on each shoulder force her down into a sitting position. She braced herself. What would it be? Spikes? Broken glass? Tacks?
Cool, wet, soothing on her tortured ass. The hood was pulled off and she squinted in the bright light.
Ice.
She was sitting in a block of ice. She resisted the urge to moan softly at the relief. After all, her legs were spread as wide as they could go and her arms were almost out of their socket. She looked up as the door opened. Her tormentor entered. A big bear of a man with a stiff leather paddle in one hand and a cruel looking single tail whip in the other.
“Shall we begin then?” he asked.
“Jane Everett, Sergeant, Serial number-” His backhand across her face cut off her hundredth repetition.
“Enough of that slut.” He matched the backhand with a forehand slap. Jane felt warm drops fall from her split lip, opened again. Drops of red pooled in the water between her legs.
He had dropped the single tail to slap her. He now took a dozen heavy strokes with the leather paddle across her belly. He paused to lift her face by the chin to meet his gaze as he moved up to her big tits and beat them another dozen strokes.
“How do you like my new toy, slut?” he asked, picking her head up by the hair and waving it in her face. She spat at him, catching him in the mouth. He calmly scooped it off his face, slathered it on hers and even more calmly punched her in the belly.
She gasped for breath, unready for the blow.
“How does your ass feel now?” he asked.
This made her notice that the relief had turned to pain as the cold seeped into her ass and the folds of her shaved pussy.
She scowled at him as he picked up the single tail and began toying with her strong thighs. A series of light taps followed by two or three hard blows, then a gentle caress up her thigh to tickle her freezing pussy.
“Get on with it asshole. Do your worst wimp. Go for it. You’re never going to get me to talk!” She said, trying not to shiver.
He stopped dead in mid swing and lowered the whip. A sad smile crossed his face. “What makes you think I want you to talk?”
1 år sedan