Making Yasmin Talk
It began in the basement of Security Headquarters. A single tip-off and, under the hot blaze of powerful lamps, a woman was being made to talk…
‘Who was the girl…?’ the uniformed figure of Colonel Mehmet Behadri, Chief of Internal Security, asked quietly, ‘the name please…?’ The naked, middle-aged woman strapped to the seatless metal chair didn’t respond. Her head lolled, mouth open so that saliva dribbled onto her heaving chest.
To her torturers gathered eagerly round the chair it seemed almost as though their prisoner was studying the raw tips of her heavy, dangling breasts. Her brown skin glistened wetly in the harsh lights and blood showed at wrists, knees and ankles where she had fought against the leather straps in her agony.
But they had finished with her breasts… for the moment.
Now they were applying the agony to the sensitive tissues of her cunt. The Colonel grinned as his eyes followed the black and red electric flex snaking over the rough concrete from the transformer on the table, idly tracing it under the chair where the thin wires curled up to the core of the woman’s body hanging open and defenceless, her thighs held apart by the straps anchoring her to the metal frame of the chair.
Of course, the bulbous cock-shaped electrode attached to the black wire was invisible; pushed deep into her anus, but he could still see the glint of metal between her labia where the red wire joined the alligator clip… a clip whose serrated jaws were clamped round the swollen stub of the woman’s clitoris.
The Colonel pushed the woman’s head back so he could look into the pain-filled eyes ‘Time’s up… let’s see if a higher setting improves your memory... try level four, Sergeant’
As he took his hand away the woman opened her mouth to say something but then… in the darkness the sergeant grinned and turned a dial on the humming transformer. He waited a moment then one finger pressed a small red button. A low buzzing filled the room and the woman jerked violently, arched up in a spasm that made her large breasts bounce wildly. The leather straps creaked, digging deep into the puffy flesh, as she strained against the fizzing agony of the electric shock surging through her cunt and rectum.
The scream echoed in the airless room before the woman flopped bonelessly back into the chair as the current was cut off. ‘The name…?’ The Colonel’s voice was soft, calm but entirely without pity. ‘Just think…we’ve only had you down here for an hour… imagine how much worse it’s going to get later… so why not tell me that name…’
He flicked one finger and the woman arched up with muscles locked and quivering as the guard pressed the button and the current seared her clit and anus again.
It took another forty minutes before she finally broke … when they went back to her nipples once again…
Both of them worked on her whilst the Colonel watched. The heavily muscled Sergeant supported the heavy globe of the left woman’s breast so that the swollen peak, already sore and gleaming wetly from the first session, was held firmly pointing upwards. The smart young Lieutenant, being groomed by the Colonel as his chief interrogator, used the narrow heated tip of the soldering iron to caress a thin burned line across the wide aureole and down the length of the wet flesh of the peak, waiting patiently for each screaming spasm to subside before applying the next stripe of blazing agony.
‘Arrrggghhh! N-n-no, no, GOD no more... p-p-p-p-lease… Aiiiiiih! N-N-N-N-NOOOOO!’
After the Lieutenant’s careful attention to both nipples the woman was babbling and pleading so wildly in between the screams that all of them knew she was near breaking point. But they enjoyed their work and so they let her rest for a few minutes. Not out of any care or concern…but to allow them to change the electrodes so they could use electricity instead of heat on those swollen teats. The woman, her body slick and slippery with sweat and the drool of saliva, lolled in the chair. Her eyes were unfocused, her chest heaving as she tried to ride the agony throbbing in her raw nipples…and the other awful burning pains from her scorched and swollen clitoris and from deep inside her rectum.
The sergeant stood behind her this time. He reached over and cupped her breasts, lifting them so once again the raw tips jutted upwards. He licked his lips because working on a woman’s tits always gave him a particular thrill. The Lieutenant smiled and showed the woman the two wires that now both ended in a sharp-toothed brass crocodile clip. The woman looked at them, then down to her breasts gripped in the thick fingers of her man behind her. She screamed as the Lieutenant touched the tip of her left nipple.
‘GAAAAAH! NO-NO-NO-NOOOOOO! P-P-P-PLEEEESE! NAAAAAH! D-D-DON’T…NAAAAARRRGH!’
Both of them laughed. He pinched the end of one of the clips between forefinger and thumb so the jaws gaped wide open. The woman whimpered and twitched but the sergeant’s hold was to strong and there was nothing she could do to stop the smiling officer positioning the abused and raw stub between the sharp teeth. Then he relaxed his grip and….
They laughed at her cries and screams. The Lieutenant flicked the clip a couple of times before squeezing the jaws together so beads of blood appeared between them. The woman squealed again, twisting and bucking in agony but the teeth gripping her nipple stayed secure.
He took her sadistic time to attach the second clip in the same way. This time, when he pressed the jaws shut, the woman’s spasms were so violent that her heavy breasts slapped wetly together…but the clips stayed in place.
Both of her torturers took their hands away leaving the woman staring down dully at the brass jaws gripping the peak of each breast. They smiled at each other and watched the woman’s eyes following the thin red and black wires down and across the floor tiles to that humming transformer.
Colonel Behadri nodded. ‘You know what’s coming next…but lets give you a taste any way.’ The machine hummed as the sergeant pressed the button and there was a soft buzzing from the electrodes gripping her nipples. The woman’s head jerked backwards, eyes staring wide as her body arched up quivering in spasm. Her full breasts shivered and quivered like jelly as the current fizzed through her body. Twenty agonising seconds…then the Colonel flicked one finger and the sergeant lifted his thumb off the red button.
‘The name?’ There was another pause, broken only by the anguished gasping of the woman in the chair. ‘Try four again…’
‘What, what did you say…give the bitch another jolt!’
‘NAAAAAH! M-m-my c-c-cousin Yasmin… Yasmin Hamad! H-HER! She’s the one… P-p-please… mercy, PLEEEESE! …AAAAAAARRRGH!!’
After each fresh shock the woman gabbled frantically and the details poured out. Finally Colonel Behadri flicked his fingers and the sergeant took his thumb off the button letting the woman collapse against the straps, sobbing and babbling in her agony. The Colonel smiled and picked up the phone…
It was late evening and Yasmin Hamad was tired, frustrated and annoyed. The sudden arrival of her younger cousin, Meena, that morning on another unannounced visit was the main cause. Yasmin knew the pleading, “I knew you would mind giving me a bed for a day or two…” meant another row at home, probably over Meena’s fondness for money and older men, and that her stepmother had thrown her out…again. Of course Meena was asleep in her school clothes when Yasmin got back from her date so that's why she was in the armchair while her sixteen year old cousin snored in her bed.
Meena was a bloody nuisance. Lying dozing in the armchair Yasmin squirmed trying to get comfortable, remembering that last session in the hotel bedroom. She was frustrated and angry because she certainly didn’t want a sixteen year old school kid with big breasts and the morals of an ally cat anywhere near men she knew… specially Robert.
She felt a sudden hot wetness between her legs at the thought of Robert, stretched naked on the bed, the long, thick curve of his penis, still shining and glistening from her mouth and tongue, arcing over the ridged muscles of his belly. The heat and wetness grew as she remembered how she’d straddled him. Oh God… the feel of that hard, black shaft as she moved up and down, slowly stroking the smooth bulbous crest of his cock along her cunt. Waiting and waiting, building the pleasure then… yes, yes… the pause… then letting the tip find the wet opening...and that wonderful, stretching impalement as she had lowered herself slowly onto him.
She shivered with remembered pleasure and arousal. Her hand was just stroking the hardening peak of one nipple when Yasmin Hamad’s erotic daydream turned to nightmare. A sudden, thunderous knocking was followed immediately by the crash of the door bursting inwards. In seconds the small flat was full of soldiers in camouflage and black balaclavas. The young secretary jerked upright in shock and panic then her world went black as a hot, smelly cloth bag was pulled down over her head and her arms were forced behind her. There were more muffled screams and noises from the bed as sixteen-year-old Meena was grabbed and hooded in the same way.
Twenty minutes later they stripped the bag from Yasmin Hamid’s head and pushed her into a dimly lit and stinking concrete cell that was bare except for the plank bed frame hinged to the wall and a battered bucket in one corner. The door slammed behind her and she was alone. There was another crash of metal and footsteps outside the cell door as Meena was dealt with in the same way.
In the morning Yasmin woke to muffled noises; footsteps, the clang of a cell door opening, Meena’s raised voice then the smack of a hand on flesh followed by a cry and the sound of people moving past her door…then silence.
The office they took Meena to was plain and grubby. The walls painted a pale green, the floor covered with scuffed, grey vinyl tiles. There was a desk, behind it a man in a white shirt sitting leaning back in a swivel chair smoking a thin cheroot. He flicked through the papers in a cardboard file as she was pushed through the door and marched forwards to stand in front of the desk.
The man didn’t say anything, didn’t even appear to notice the shivering sixteen-year-old standing in front of him with her arm being held by a grinning, heavily built thug of a guard. Two more men waited by the door, their eyes hot with pleasure as they stared at the teenager’s body. The silence went on for almost a minute.
‘And what’s your name?’
‘M-M-Meena, Meena Fahad, S-Sir.’
Colonel Behadri leaned back even further, tapped the ash from his cheroot onto the floor while he studied the shivering girl standing in front of the desk. The teenager was almost dwarfed by the looming bulk of the guard who was holding her left arm and leering down the vee of her tight white blouse. She was a complication that Colonel Behadri had not anticipated but it was going to be a most pleasurable complication to deal with.
All the signs of a real young slut, he thought, tight white blouse, short skirt and long black hair held in a ponytail. She’s trying to pretend that she isn’t scared stiff. He felt a pleasurable tightness in his groin as he thought of how she would look in a few minutes…without the clothes.
‘So, Meena, do you know why you’re here?’
‘N-no, Sir.’ The Colonel looked at the file and pretended to read. He knew the girl was looking at the other thing on the desktop. Pale yellow with one end bound with black tape, the cane was thin, the other end frayed with use. He knew she was looking somewhere else too. Her eyes kept flicking sideways because there was another door in the room… deliberately left half open. He knew she could see into the bare room next door…and the wide-legged metal frame with a padded top standing on its own in the middle of the floor.
He murmured, ‘Are you sure, Meena? You’re not hiding anything from me are you?’
‘Oh no, no sir, no, nothing at all, I only got there this afternoon. Yasmin was with John so I just let myself in.’
‘Do that often do you?’
The girl looked at the floor.
‘Only when I….’
‘When I what, Meena?’ Colonel Behadri picked up the cane and flexed it gently between his hands. The girl stared at the thin rod bowing and straightening in his hands. ‘Answer me, Meena’
‘W-W-When I’ve had a r-row at home.’ She blushed, ‘my stepmother tells me off, punishes me if I do anything she doesn’t like…I hate her!’ She bit her lip. ‘So I go and stay with Yasmin…she’s my cousin but…’
But what, Meena?’
The cane slammed down on the top of the desk. The girl jerked upright. ‘Don’t play games with me you little tart! This is a matter of state security so you fucking well tell me what I want or it will be bad for you…very, very bad…understand me?’
‘Y-y-yes, Sir. Y-Yasmin’s g-g-got a b-boyfriend, he’s an American I t-think.’ Her voice fell to a whisper. ’He’s b-b-black and his name’s Robert Masters. He w-works at the US Embassy.’
Colonel Behadri sat upright, trying not to let the shock of that information show. ‘And how do you know all this? Did she tell you?’ Meena flushed red again and looked at the floor. Colonel Behadri smiled unpleasantly and used the end of the cane to lift her chin. ‘Oh dear, she didn’t tell you did she? You’ve been spying on her. That’s naughty, Meena, very naughty.’ The end of the cane traced downwards into the vee of her blouse.
‘P-p-pleeese, I didn’t mean to listen…’
The Colonel smiled. ‘Of course you did so why lie about it?’ The tip of the cane moved down the front of the teenager’s blouse. Two little flicks untucked the edges from the waistband of her skirt. ‘I’m going to punish you for lying Meena but first it’s time to search you, …you know we always search people we arrest don’t you?’
‘Y-y-yes…but there’s n-nothing…just what I’m wearing…’
‘Exactly, we must check what you’re wearing’. He flicked the front of the blouse. ‘This first,’ he paused, ‘well go on, take it off.’ There was a hesitation, a moment when the Colonel thought she would resist, but then the teenager reached up and fumbled with the buttons undoing them one by one. Finally she stood still, one hand holding the edges of her blouse together. ‘No, let go…’ the cane flicked against her fingers and she gasped at the sharp pain. ‘Hands at your sides, Meena until I tell you otherwise.’
He used the cane’s tip to push the blouse off each shoulder in turn. Meena shivered as the thin fabric slipped down her arms. She could feel her nipples hardening as the three guards shuffled round to get a sight of her young, high breasts barely contained by the lacy half-cup bra. She flushed red because knew that they had all noticed her arousal too.
One of them reached forwards, tugged the blouse free, crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the corner. The tip of the cane stroked across the swell of her left breast. The Colonel looked into her eyes and smiled at the girl’s growing panic of fear and arousal. He tapped the rod against the bump of her nipple and she caught her breath. He tapped again, a slow deliberate rhythm that made the peak lift and stiffen even more…then the cane tip moved to tap and tease the other nipple in turn.
‘P-p-pleeese…s-s-sir…d-d-don’t…don’t do that to me…p-pleeese!’ she whispered, fingers clenching and unclenching as she tried not to squirm away from the arousing torment.
‘Pleeeese, no, Sir…I haven’t done anything…please’
‘I’ve told you…we punish lying, disobedient little girls…do as you’re told.’
Fingers fumbled with buttons and zip. Colonel Behadri flicked her fingers away with the cane. ‘No, let go, Meena…just let it fall down.’
She sobbed and tears trickled down her cheeks as she let the skirt slip down. It stuck over her hips for a moment before it fell in a puddle of material round her feet. The men stared harder, cocks hard and straining against their trousers at the sight of the near naked teenager clad only in a flimsy bra and a pair of tiny red panties. The waist string was pulled high on her hips so the sheer fabric was stretched taut over the swell of her mound and the full plump lips of her cunt. Instinctively Meena crossed her hands in front, shielding her groin.
The cane flicked twice stinging across her fingers.
‘Hands, Meena, hands, remember what you were told!’
Colonel Behadri took his time, using the tip of the cane to trace across the girl’s abdomen along the dipping line of that scarlet waist string. He liked watching the way the muscles twitched and fluttered at the teasing contact. The teenager shivered again, knowing exactly where he was going to touch her next with the slim rod.
But she still reacted as the tip followed the angled line at the crease of her thigh, jerking and gasping as the thin shaft wormed between her legs, just brushing the taut fabric cupping her cunt lips. The rod bowed and Meena made another long gasping noise then babbled wildly, lifting onto tiptoe as the rod pressed the thin material up into the slit. She could feel the wetness seeping from her, soaking the thin fabric so it clung to her cunt lips like a second skin.
‘Ah-aaaah…s-s-s-sir….no, no p-p-pleeeese…aaaaaah!’
The Colonel took another long pull on his cheroot and rocked the cane up and down. ‘They’re not yours, are they?’
‘What aren’t, S-S-Sir?’
‘Don’t be stupid, Meena.’ He lifted the rod again, ‘these pretty red panties…’ The rod sawed backwards and forwards very slowly between her labia…working the material up into her slit. ‘They’re your cousin Yasmin’s really aren’t the? You just borrowed them without telling her…didn’t you?’
‘Ha-aaaaaaah…y-yes-essss…my s-step mother wouldn’t…’
‘…Wouldn’t allow you to wear something so indecent would she.’ He chuckled at her hurried breathing and the fact that the thin silky fabric was already sodden. He slid the cane from between her legs then he rubbed the end between finger and thumb. He smiled and held up his fingertips. Meena flushed even harder as she saw the slippery wetness on them. He was about to say something when one of his men pointed at the girl’s back.
‘Colonel, Sir, you may want to see this, Sir.’
Colonel Behadri circled one finger at her in an unmistakable gesture. Meena obeyed, shuffling round so her back was to the desk. The Colonel studied the girl’s narrow waist and the proud swell of her buttocks. The thin waist string and the tight red vee of fabric cutting up into the deep cleft between them framed the firm young cheeks so delightfully. Then, suddenly intent, he leaned forwards as he realised what it was the guard had seen.
There was a sheen of perspiration on the girl’s olive skin and clearly visible across each buttock and down the backs of her upper thighs were a crisscrossing series of faint, darker lines…lines that had obviously faded over time but were still quite unmistakable. The Colonel knew exactly what those marks meant. The girl had received a severe caning not too long ago.
He smiled cheerfully. Meena was not having much luck it seemed. ‘All right turn round.’ He waited for her to turn back to face him again. ‘Now the bra…take it off or…’ She hesitated until he lifted the cane and flexed it between his hands. The threat was enough to make her fumble behind her back then clutch her arms in front of her body as the catch came loose. The Colonel casually flicked the straps off her shoulders. ‘Arms down, Meena and that’s another black mark…that’s the third time I’ve had to ask you to do something.’
There were coarse comments and grunts of pleasure and anticipation from the men standing beside her as the teenager’s bra slipped down. Colonel Behadri used the tip of the cane to lift it away from her body and flick the flimsy garment onto the floor.
‘Let’s all see you properly…hands behind your head…NOW, Meena!’
The girl jumped at the sudden, snapped command. She straightened and her arms jerked up, elbows bent so she could lock her fingers behind her head. More tears trickled down her cheeks as she shivered in front of four men, naked except for the tiny red thong, with her breasts thrust out so prominently by the position of her arms. Even worse, she knew all of them could see just how hard and erect her nipples were, each one jutting upwards like a little blunt spike from the wide almost black circles capping each firm globe.
‘P-P-please, S-Sir, now you’ve searched me…please can I go no, Please, I haven’t done anything bad. P-please…it’s Yasmin you want, not me, pleeese!’ Her face burned because every time she moved her breasts bounced and jiggled enticingly…and she could hear every crude comment and suggestion the guards were making about her.
The Colonel grinned. ‘But Meena, you know you’ve been naughty…spying on your cousin, stealing her clothes, lying to me about it. Worst of all you’ve refused to do what you’re told. We always deal very firmly with naughty, disobedient girls. In a minute or two you’re be going next door with my men so they can take care of you properly, but first...’
He stood up and tapped the edge of the desk with the cane.
‘I want you to reach forwards and grip this edge of my desk with both hands.’ He tapped the top again, ‘here and here.’ Meena hesitated… ‘Stand against the side and lean forwards.’ He watched her edge forward. ‘Feet apart…that’s it…No! Keep your legs straight…no bending the knees!’ He walked round behind her then back to the side. The cane flicked her knuckles. ‘Get them apart…more…more…that’s better.’
The men made crude remarks, laughing and leering as the teenager reluctantly obeyed. With her hips pressed against the edge of the desk, feet apart and her legs taut when she leaned forwards those firm little bottom cheeks thrust out enticingly. Of course, being bent forward her breasts swung free and unprotected, jiggling and bobbing with every little movement. The Colonel held the cane across under her body.
‘Oh yes, Meena, this comes next.’ He traced the shaft of the cane over the curves of her breasts then gently tapped it against her nipples making them rouse and harden. The teenager shuddered and trembled, tears splashing onto the cover of the file on the desk. ‘How many do you deserve do you think? Lying and disobedience… that’s at least ten strokes.’ The cane teased the erect tips of her breasts as he pretended to think, ‘or maybe twenty would make the lesson clearer?’
Without warning he removed the cane and twisted his fingers in her hair forcing her head round to the side. ‘I think you know more that you’re telling me about this American boyfriend. So we’ll start with twenty and then you can decide what else you forgot to mention.’
He paused, letting her scream, then handed the cane to one of the men. He smiled even more broadly at her horrified expression. She struggled against his clenched fingers holding her head twisted to the side eyes flicking round wildly, suddenly all too aware of the three big muscular guards who had moved closer. Colonel Behadri let her hair go and lifted her chin with one finger. ‘Oh yes, I forgot to tell you…if you stand up…or let go of the desk we’ll stop, then tie you down and start all over again…this time with more than double the number… that's another fifty strokes…so think about it, Meena,’ he shook her head from side to side, ‘think about it very hard.’ He let her head drop forwards and nodded to the guard.
‘Thwick!’ ‘Thwick!’ ‘Thwick!’ ‘Thwick!’
‘YAAAAAAH! YOU BASTARDS! NO! NO! NO FUCK OFF ME! NOOOOOO! PLEEEESE! STOP ITTTT!! PLEEEEESE!’
The first four strokes were quick and cruel, each one cut across those outthrust cheeks with the full force of the guard’s arm. Meena had no time to ride the pain, no time to adjust or prepare herself. Four bars of agony seared across her olive skin, each one a little lower until the fourth was just on the undercurve of her buttocks, that sensitive crease at the top of her thighs.
The next was just below it.
Meena arched her back, lifted her head and wailed in anguish, feet dancing up and down in a mad tattoo as the cane cut a fifth line of agony right across the tops of her thighs.
The Colonel smiled with pleasure. He always liked watching an expert at work. The man took his time. There was no hurry…waiting for the pain to build…waiting for the girl to recover…but only so she would feel the next stroke even more keenly. While the caning continued the Colonel noticed the way the girl’s fingertips and knuckles turn bone white with the pressure of gripping the wooden edge of the desk as the burning pain increased. Her arms were braced taut and quivering, holding her upper body arched back in a curve while she forced her hips as hard as she could into the other edge.
It was not just her fingers that were clenched. The other two guards were laughing and commenting because they could see how the girl was clenching her buttocks and trying to keep the big muscles of her thighs tensed in a vain attempt to ride the growing agony of the caning.
This time the screams were louder and more desperate. The girl’s jittering dance became even wilder.
‘GAAAAAH! NO-NO-NO-NOOOOOOO! PLEEEEESE! HAAAAAAAAH!’
Colonel Behadri lit another thin cheroot and raised a warning finger. ‘No, Meena don’t try and get up.’ He leaned over and gripped the back of the teenager’s neck. ‘In fact it’s time for you to bend over even more.’ He paused, ‘let’s see you kiss the top of the desk now…’ He pressed her head down until her lips touched the cardboard file lying on the desk. He looked down at her for a moment then flicked his fingers at the men. ‘I think she’ll need some help.’ The two of them grinned and hurried forwards knowing exactly what the Colonel wanted.
Standing on either side they each held a wrist then used their free hand to grip one of the girl’s upper arms near the shoulder. They leaned forwards together, using their own weight to pin her down flat against the desktop. Meena’s bare breasts were squashed against the stained wood and she had to turn her head to the side so her left cheek pressed hard against the cardboard cover of the file.
‘Keep your toes on the floor or else,’ warned the Colonel. He looked at the guard with the cane. ‘You can leave the panties…they’re not really covering anything and as she’s so wet she’ll feel it just as much through them anyway.’
Being bent down over the desk meant that Meena’s bottom cheeks were tensed even more tightly. The guard stroked the thin rod across the outthrust curves. The new position meant that now the rod just touched the taut pouch of scarlet silk pouting out between her thighs. The Colonel and the guard shared grins of sadistic pleasure as the cane caressed the tightly stretched fabric.
Meena didn’t realise…but was about to find out in the most painful way possible, how exposed she was. The teenager was about to feel the next few searing kisses of the cane across her labia.
She tried to rear up, whinnying in shock and agony as the rod sliced across the crease at the top of her thighs and across tender bulge of her cunt. But the men were ready, fingers digging into her flesh and forcing her down to hold her upper body still. Meena kicked and wriggled her legs and buttocks in a frantic effort to ride the burning pain of the stroke.
The guard with the cane watched intently. He’d done this many times before and knew that in a moment she would stop kicking, then take a deep, shuddering breath ready to scream again. That was the moment…just as she pressed even harder into the edge of the desk…just as the smooth scarlet pouch pouted out as she breathed in and…
The cane cut across her upper thighs only millimetres below the last one, the impact on her cunt lips enough to raise a fine spray of droplets from the damp, clinging fabric of the girl’s panties. Her scream reached a new, shriller pitch of intensity.
Now the caning was just a slow deliberate torture of the screaming teenager for the Colonel and his men’s sadistic pleasure. The guard waited between each stroke, watching the girl’s bucking, kicking frenzy and listening to the increasingly wild screams and pleas from the desktop. Then, just as she began to think it was over, the next stroke would lift her on tiptoe once more and the screams would reach another peak of agony.
‘Ah…dirty…dirty…’ the guard yelled as a thin stream trickled down Meena’s legs to form a yellowish puddle on the tiled floor
‘Swiick!’ ‘Swiick!’ ‘Swiick!’
Three rapid strokes punished the loss of control, the sound of the impacts louder and flatter against the girl’s wet flesh and the now sodden panties. The Colonel nodded in satisfaction and lifted a finger. The guard held the next stroke and stepped back. Breathing deeply he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his free hand, tapping the cane against his leg as he waited for the Colonel’s next order.
‘Stand her up.’
The other two guards dragged Meena to her feet, head hanging down with pain and exhaustion. The top of the desk where she’d been held down was patched, shiny and wet with her sweat, the cover of the cardboard file marked by dribbled saliva and tears. She hung by the arms between the two men sobbing loudly, her body still twitching and shuddering with the effects of the caning.
‘Look at me, Meena.’ He waited. ‘Meena,’ he paused, ‘do you want them to start all over again?’ She stared at the tapping cane in horror, head shaking violently.
‘Noooo…P-Pleeese…no-no-no…Pleeeese NOOO! I’ll do what you want, Sir, please, please…PLEEESE!’
‘So look at me, Meena.’ He waited for her to lift her head. ‘That was just a little reminder. A reminder that in this place we can do anything we want to you…anything, understand?’ He waited for the frantic nod from the trembling girl. ‘Now, tell me what you know about this boyfriend of your cousin’s…this American, Masters…Robert Masters I think you said his name was…’
Meena couldn’t gabble the information fast enough. All her envy at her cousin, her own desire for money and clothes and the attention of a rich American lover spilled out in a torrent. Information gathered from listening to phone calls and sneaking explorations of Yasmin’s private diaries and cell phone over the past year.
Colonel Behadri let her talk. Among all the jealousy and prying there were two things that were important. The tapes would pick up all the rest of the chatter for later. Yasmin Hamad had been seeing the American for at least a year, and the man worked at, or at least had contacts with, the US Embassy. There was one other snippet…Yasmin didn’t have a computer but on a couple of occasions Meena had seen computer memory cards in her handbag…
Finally, she stopped and the Colonel smiled at her. ‘Very good, very good indeed Meena…you have been busy looking into your cousin’s affairs haven’t you?’ He waited for her nod of agreement. ‘So now we need you to help us persuade your cousin to tell us all she knows.’ The teenager looked up, suddenly aware of the way the men were leering at her. ‘That’s right Meena, we’re going to use you as a kind of demonstration for Miss Hamad to watch.’
Meena stared as the horrifying meaning of his words sank in. Suddenly, she twisted and wrenched in fury trying to break free of the guards holding her.
But it was futile. The two of them simply twisted her arms down behind her back. There was a ‘zzzzzzt’ as the one who’d caned her slipped a plastic tie over her wrists and jerked it tight.
She continued to struggle and swear but there was no chance she could get free. They held her easily. All of them grinned as her wild attempts to escape made her tits bounce and slap together. Colonel Behadri lit another thin cheroot and waited for the outburst to subside.
‘Swearing isn’t going to stop them, it will only make things worse.’ He smiled again, ‘I would advise you to save your breath…you’ll need it’ He leaned back in the chair. ‘I have other things I must do. In a moment they are going to take you into that room next door. The one you’ve been so curious about and they’ll show you what we use that frame for. The room’s soundproof so you can make as much noise as much as you want, he paused and smiled at her, ‘the men like it when girls make a noise, they find it exciting.’
He got up and walked to the door to the corridor chuckling as he looked at the grinning thugs holding her arms, ‘and you will want to be very loud I expect. I’m going to bring dear cousin Yasmin along in about fifteen minutes so she can see what they are doing to you…just to help her memory before I talk to her about her friend Robert.’ He nodded at his men and left.
Knowing what the Colonel wanted, and time he’d given them, they started by ripping off the brief, red panties. Then they spent a few minutes pinching and probing her wriggling body for their own amusement. Thick fingers were forced into her vagina and anus while other hands pinched her nipples and slapped her breasts and those already sore, caned buttocks.
Each of them was at least a head taller than the girl and twice as heavy. Their muscular bodies smelled of sweat and the sharp tang of arousal and semen, their black and brown skins shiny and gleaming with perspiration. They told Meena crudely how they were going to hurt her and fuck her and that she was going to have to take them in her mouth, cunt and anus until all of them were fully satisfied.
She screamed and swore back at them until they lost patience. Then they held her still and one of them dug his fingers into the points of her jaw. She tried clenching her teeth but the pain was agonising and she couldn’t stop her jaws opening wide. Her screams turned to gasps then into nothing more than wet, slobbering noises as the wide ring gag was forced into position behind her front teeth. The webbing straps were jerked tight, distorting her cheeks and forcing the corners of her mouth into a rictus grin before being clicked shut behind her head.
Gagged and naked the teenager was thrown forwards over the narrow padded top of the frame. It didn’t move and she realised that the whole thing was bolted to the floor. Her thighs were forced apart and straps clamped her knees against the splayed metal legs of the frame. One final strap slapped across the small of her back and she was bent forwards so saliva bubbled and drooled onto the floor as the buckle was cinched tight. She could wriggle and flex her head and torso. She could even lift her bound arms behind her and wriggle her fingers and her feet…but effectively she was helpless.
One of the men stripped off his tee shirt. He was the one who’d caned her a few minutes earlier. He flexed his stomach muscles and grinned at the teenager’s obvious mixture of terror and arousal as he slowly shucked off his trousers and pants and thrust his hips forwards until her nose almost touched the thick up curving tusk of his penis.
He leaned forward, gripped a handful of her hair with one hand and peeled his foreskin back so she could see the dark purple head, wet and gleaming with pre-cum and the edge of white cream under the rim. He took his time, twisting his hand to move her head into the position he wanted before holding her so he could push the swollen head of his cock through the plastic circle into her mouth.
He stood still, hips forward enjoying the sensations. Meena’s tongue wriggled and flicked around the glans and under the sensitive rim as she tried to draw breath without choking. The guard waited a moment then gave a tiny nod to the others. One of them reached up between the girl’s legs and pinched her clit hard between forefinger and thumb.
Meena screamed and lunged forwards against the straps holding her across the stool. Her screams turned into a drooling gobbling noise as she impaled herself. The guard’s eight-inch cock slid over her tongue and down her throat until her nose and lips were pressed into the stinking bush of tightly curled pubic hair, his balls touching her chin.
She struggled, her body jerking and bucking as she tried to both close her legs and breathe. He held her in position, grinning and laughing as he felt the muscles of her throat flexing and tensing around the shaft of his cock buried in that hot, wet sheath with each new pinching torment of her clit. He let her struggle for over half a minute before sliding his cock out until only the head was inside the ring.
He grinned down while she gasped and drooled and stared back, eyes wide, her face smeared with a shiny film of tears, precum and saliva. He grasped a handful of hair with each hand, licked his lips with anticipation and arched his hips so the thick, slippery shaft slid down her throat again. This time he didn’t stand motionless but rocked back and forward, sliding his cock in and out in a slow, deliberate fucking.
Meena was managing to overcome the gag reflex, learning very quickly to grab a breath each time he drew back. She couldn’t see that the two other guards had also stripped of their clothes intent on their own pleasure. Then she felt the head of another cock nuzzling the opening to her anus.
This time the guard’s penis wasn’t as long, barely seven inches, but was almost twice as thick, behind the head the shaft tapered out so it was more like a long blunt spike. She tried to cry out but gobbled in pain as his cock stretched her anal ring almost to splitting point when he forced himself deep into her rectum. Her noise was lost in the men’s cruel laughter as they both rammed forwards together so she was impaled from both ends.
Now they worked her together, fucking her throat and anus in a remorseless driving rhythm that gave her no chance to resist or fight back against the double rape. Meena loved being fucked usually but this was something horrible beyond her experience. She squirmed and heaved between them, her bound hands twitching, fingers stretching and clenching as she fought to take a breath and cope with overload of sensations as two big men slammed into her body and face again and again.
It took five minutes of torment before the two men began to grunt and swear as they reached their climaxes. The man fucking her anus was quickest. He grabbed her bound wrists and pounded into her, thighs slapping against the raised weals covering her bottom with a series of sharp smacks as he tried to drive his cock even deeper through the tight ring gripping his cock. Then he yelled out, straining as his body arched into Meena’s buttocks. Finally, he jerked hard, once, twice and a third time as he spurted inside her.
That was enough to bring the other guard over the edge too. This time he let her hair go with one hand, slid his cock back until it was just between her lips and wanked the shaft furiously. As the jets of cum squirted across her face he rubbed the slippery head across her cheeks and tightly closed eyes then slid the head inside her mouth once again. ‘That’s it girlie…lick it all over…fuck…yes…that’s good…yesss.’
They all watched as she obeyed, her body still trembling and shaking from the pounding. They all knew about the teenager’s own growing arousal too. They laughed when he pulled his cock out and they saw her pink tongue probing out through the black ring to catch the last few strings of semen and saliva. Enjoying the moment, the third of the guards moved behind her, fist holding the long up-curved shaft of his cock as he hurried to take his turn.
Meena gave a high bubbling wail of denial mixed with pleasure as she felt this cock sliding deep into her now well-lubricated cunt. The other two were not content with raping her, the wanted to hurt her too. She squealed and slobbered even more loudly and desperately when they reached under her body to grope and squeeze her dangling breasts.
They laughed at the extra violent struggles and noises she made when they pinched and twisted her nipples. The last man enjoyed the girl’s reactions too. He continued his slow deliberate fucking because every spasm squeezed and milked his cock wonderfully. Meena was panting hard, thick dribbles of saliva and semen drooling from the plastic circle wedging her mouth open as she tried to ride their cruel treatment of her breasts. What was even worse was her growing excitement at being fucked so hard and so long while tied down. Even the horrible burning agony in her bottom and the throbbing pain of her swollen and caned cunt lips was turning into another kind of heat as she responded unwillingly to the stimulation she was being forced to endure.
‘I think she like you, Yusef!’
The guard fucking her was only intent on his own pleasure. A few more hard pounding minutes then he shouted, ‘Yesssss…Oh fuuuuck yess that’s tight!’ as the teenager’s muscles again clamped round his cock like a wet vice. He grabbed her arms for leverage so he could ram his cock even deeper with a series of fierce jabbing thrusts. Finally, the stimulation was too much and he grunted and swore loudly as he came, spurting deep inside the teenager’s vagina.
Pulling free he milked the last few drops from his cock then deliberately slapped the wet slippery shaft across the ridged weals lacing her bottom. Meena drooled and jerked and bubbled with a mixture of pain and frustration as she was left alone and unsatisfied. The man joined the other two casually pulling on a pair of shorts and a tee shirt. The three of them stood chatting and seeming to ignore the naked teenager.
There was coarse laughter when the one who’d caned her walked over to a small table in the corner of the room. At first Meena thought he’d picked up a short black stick. Her head threshed wildly from side to side and she jerked and strained against her bonds when he pointed it at her and she saw the bulbous end with the two protruding brass prongs. He pressed a switch in the handle and a blue-white arc fizzed and crackled between the electrodes.
‘Now we get you ready for the Colonel,’ the man said.
He put the cattle prod down where she could see it and flicked his fingers to the others. First, they undid the waist strap and pulled her upright. One of them tied a rope through the tie cinching her arms together and flipped it over a hook in the ceiling. The other two prepared the frame. The padded top came off to leave just two parallel chrome tubes running from front to back and some eighteen inches apart. Then they unstrapped Meena’s knees from the back legs of the stool frame and lifted her forwards until she was perched straddling the tubes. To hold her there they simply used a pair of cuffs to clip her ankles together under the lower sidebars of the stool frame.
At a signal from the man with the cattle prod, the rope was slowly pulled taught lifting Meena’s arms almost vertically up behind her back and forcing her to bend forward from the waist. Meena wailed and dribbled even more when they clipped the ankle chain to a ringbolt set into the floor under the stool so she couldn’t shift her position and was forced to sit wide astride the bars. With her legs secure they fiddled with the rope holding her arms up, positioning her body just as they, and more important the Colonel, wanted.
Finally they were satisfied and the man in charge grinned at her and picked up the cattle prod again. Meena now faced the door that opened onto the corridor. Anyone coming in would see the naked teenager riding the metal frame with her thighs straddled wide apart over the bars and her upper body bowed forwards by the rope and cruel strappado of her arms leaving her breasts swaying free and totally unprotected.
He picked up a tube of gel and tossed it to the others. ‘Get her tits and cunt well coated, the Colonel notices things like that.’ The other two smiled and squeezed thick gobs of the conductive gel onto their fingers. One rubbed his fingers together then reached under Meena’s torso to work the gel into her breasts, concentrating on the nipples. He pinched and tweaked the tips until they were stiff and gleaming with a coating of conducting lube.
The other guard slid his right hand into the open cleft of the teenager’s bottom cheeks. There was a sudden clatter from her ankle chain as he pushed his thumb through the swollen ring of her anus. She bucked and reared, spraying droplets of saliva from the wide O of her mouth as she threshed about trying to stop the crude impalement. They all watched, grinning at her antics as he worked his thumb in and out with a wet sucking noise. Then he curved the rest of his hand into the wet slit of her cunt and speared two fingers up into her vagina. Bracing his other hand on the girl’s back, he worked his right hand in and out, fucking both holes at once as she jerked and gobbled at being both hurt and stimulated by the twin invasion.
‘Okay, that’s enough,’ the big man said. He held the prod in front of her face. ‘Know what this is, girlie?’
Meena shook her head madly; she didn’t want to know what the horrible thing was.
‘This is for making cows do what they’re told…works on the ladies too…see all I do is touch you with these two little prongs here.’ He touched the end against her arm and Meena flinched and twisted her head round so she could see where the brass prongs pressed into her skin. ‘Then I press the switch…’
Her whole body jerked violently and she shuddered and trembled, her chest heaving from the shock. Her head threshed from side to side in terror as the three of them watched her. She flopped down, hanging slumped from her arms as he released the switch.
‘See what I mean…all it takes is a few little touches and you’ll do anything we say.’ He smiled sadistically, ‘course there’s lots of better places we can use this little toy…bet you can think of some right now.’ He traced the end of the prod down her back and then along her flank to the delicate hollow of her exposed underarm, ‘Here fr’instance’. The brass prongs touched her skin and his finger pressed the switch again for a brief second.
The current was only on for a second but this time her whole body convulsed with the shock. Her feet kicked wildly against the cuffs and she reared up and forwards, thighs shivering with strain against the bars. He grinned as he lifted the prod clear and watched the girl slump down again whimpering and sobbing with her breath racing as though she’d just run a sprint.
He was amusing the guards by running the brass prongs over her gel-coated breasts when he heard noises in the corridor. He smiled, ‘I think it’s time for your performance, girlie.’
To be continued
All Rights Reserved
Making Yasmin Talk – Part Two
Yasmin Hamad has been betrayed and arrested on suspicion of passing information to her lover, an official at the US Embassy. Her young cousin, Meena Fahad, has been arrested with her. Meena is first caned then raped by Colonel Mehmet Behadri’s sadistic guards. Yasmin is forced to watch Meena being tortured…and now it is her turn.
The basement room was hot and humid, the heavy moist air rank with the smell of bodies and the sharp ozone tang of electricity. Despite the whirring fans, the powerful spotlights focused on the middle of the rough concrete floor only added to the heat. The metal chair frame stood alone in the lights, the floor beneath still damp from where they had been working on the other woman the afternoon before. The only difference was that the chair was now fixed in position with clamps and four bolts screwed through them into fittings set into the concrete.
Yasmin Hamad was brought in, still whimpering and crying after watching those men using the cattle prod and the cane on Meena in that other room. Colonel Behadri was waiting and with him, half-hidden in the dimness, was another officer, also dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. There was something in his expression and intent stare that made Yasmin shudder even though she had no way of knowing that Lieutenant Modi was the Colonel’s favoured interrogator, a man whose sexual pleasure was the torture of women, especially young, attractive girls.
The guards pushed her into the middle of the room next to the chair frame. ‘Take your dress off now,’ Colonel Behadri said, almost casually, ‘and your bra, you won’t be needing them.’
Yasmin stared at him in horror. Even though she’d just seen how they were ill-treating Meena, she had stupidly thought that they would ask her questions, questions she could answer so the would just let her go and not…
‘No…no I won’t…I saw…saw what they were doing to Meena…you can’t!
I don’t want too. I won’t... I won’t get undressed...I won’t…you can’t make me!’
‘Stupidity, of course we can! Either you undress now…or the two men who brought you here will hurt you severely then strip you by force…it’s something they enjoy doing. I really wouldn’t upset them if I were you.’ He paused, ‘so will you do as you’re told or…’
Colonel Behadri and the Lieutenant smiled in satisfaction watching the young woman fumbling to undo the buttons. He walked across the lighted area and sat down on a comfortable office chair, tilting it back on two legs and taking his ease. Standing behind the trembling figure of the young secretary but also hidden in the shadows, the two guards watched with cruel anticipation as the pleasurable preliminaries to another young woman’s torture continued.
Moments later Yasmin’s dress and bra lay discarded on the stained concrete floor… only her black silk thong remained. She immediately curled her arms across her body, vainly trying to shield herself from the hot gaze of the men. Yasmin was suddenly even more aware of the way the slim man was watching her, … and the look of cruel anticipation on his face as she undressed in front of the four men.
‘Hold her up now…’ the Colonel grinned. ‘It’s just routine, Miss Hamad, Lieutenant Modi is going to check you’re not concealing anything before we begin.’ Enjoying the familiar game, Omar, the muscular sergeant who was another other regular member of the Colonel’s interrogation team with the other guard, immediately grabbed Yasmin’s wrists, twisting her arms so she was forced up onto her toes. The lieutenant put his notebook down and walked slowly round the desk to stand in front of the young secretary.
He took his time, enjoying her fear as he touched her. His fingertips traced across the curves of her breasts…and he smiled as the tips roused and stiffened at his touch. He traced down her flanks and along the thin waist cord pulled high on the curve of the young secretary’s hips. With the man so close, Yasmin could see the hot, cruel pleasure in his eyes and smell the musk of cologne, cigarettes and sexual arousal as he touched her body.
His fingertips slid across the girl’s coppery, sweat-soaked skin, moving lower and lower with each touch making Yasmin’s stomach muscles flutter and shiver. She gasped aloud when his fingertips touched the thin band, shuddering and biting her lip when his fingertips traced lower to stroke across the taut pouch of silk between her thighs so very gently. He smiled as he touched the betraying wetness, rubbed her fingers together and smiled. He lifted one finger to her mouth and rubbed the coating of slippery juices across her lips.
‘A hot little slut, Colonel, wet already.’ His fingers returned to cup the taut wet fabric then pressing the swollen labia together. He smiled. ‘Tell me, Yasmin, who do you like fucking best… is it men or women?’ He smiled at the young woman’s sudden blush of shame and gently squeezed the lips of her cunt together. He slid his right hand across her bottom and up into the cleft, easing the thin cord of the silk thong from between Yasmin’s buttocks.
Suddenly, Yasmin lifted onto tiptoe then bucked hard, her body arcing forwards as the Lieutenant’s forefinger slid deeper broaching the tender rosette of her anus.
‘Aaah, n-n-noooo don’t, p-please don’t tou…Aaaaaah!’
The reflex thrust of the girl’s hips pushed her against the fingers cupping her cunt lips. The Lieutenant squeezed gently, moving fingers and thumb to work the swollen outer lips to and fro against each other; wet flesh sliding on wet flesh until the girl moaned and bucked with unwanted pleasure. At the same time his right forefinger probed the girl’s anus.
‘Oh God, oh please, p-p-p-please don’t…’
The Colonel leaned back in his chair and watched his Lieutenant’s expert fingering of the girl’s cunt and anus for a few more minutes. Cries of ‘d-don’t’ were giving way to more urgent, pleading sounds and hisses of ‘pleeeeese’. He chuckled. ‘He’s good, isn’t he, Yasmin… mind you, we already know how much you enjoy fucking foreigners… especially rich Americans. American spies called… Robert Masters… I believe?’
He watched for a few more moments. ‘Lieutenant, I don’t think Miss Hamad needs those any more.’ He nodded at the girl’s groin and the lieutenant grinned. He ran his fingertips under the waist string and peeled the wet silk away, pulling the young secretary’s thong down until it slipped to the floor and revealing the naked triangle of Yasmin’s sex.
‘How clever of you to be so well prepared…’ the Lieutenant’s voice was cruel with mockery as he studied the neatly trimmed patch of black hair on the young woman’s mound and the deep, in-rolling slit between the bare shaved lips of her engorged labia. The evidence of her arousal was clear. Her cunt lips and inner thighs were wet and shiny with her juices and the plump outer lips were swollen and parted so that they could all see the pink inner folds and the vee of flesh guarding the paler bead of her clitoris. ‘Such intimate grooming makes things so much more accessible I find.’
The lieutenant reached up and cupped the young woman’s cunt lips again. This time the was no fabric, however flimsy, in the way so his fingertips could tease and stroke the protruding inner lips and the sensitive edges of her cunt slit unimpeded. In a few minutes his skilful masturbation had Yasmin shivering and panting with arousal and her building orgasm. This time there was only a moan of need when he eased his other hand back between her buttocks to slide his forefinger back into the shuddering young secretary’s anus.
The Colonel grinned, watching the nineteen-year-old girl’s increasingly wanton sexual movements as the lieutenant continued fondling her anus and cunt with tormenting skill. A few minutes later his smile widened even more when, despite the protests, he noticed she was shuffling her feet and edging her knees apart as she responded to the expert masturbation. He’d seen Lieutenant Modi do this so many times to the younger, prettier ones they arrested…but he always got a particular thrill of watching him bring a girl or young woman so to cumming, coaxing and stimulating her to that unwanted, humiliating climax in front of a group of grinning men.
Yasmin’s denials and protests became increasingly incoherent, the tone and her movements more urgent and pleading as the slow, clever masturbation made the nineteen-year-old wetter and more aroused. Yasmin knew the man was going to make her cum and there was nothing she could do to stop it…even worse, she was now so aroused that she didn’t want him to stop. No, all she wanted was that final stimulation, that extra touch that would allow her to reach the orgasm she wanted so badly.
That was what he had been waiting for. With Yasmin gasping and panting on the brink of cumming, the lieutenant laughed and took his hand away. ‘Oh no, no, Miss Hamad, not yet, you’ve got things to tell us first.’
Colonel Behadri clicked his fingers. ’Quite right… it’s time for Miss Hamad to tell us all about those American businessmen… and the messages she delivers to them…put her on the chair!’
Yasmin Hamad shuddered and wailed in frustration. The frustration quickly turned into a swearing, wrenching attempt to get free as she fought and struggled to break the grip of the two guards. She clawed at their fingers, twisting and turning until one of them suddenly jerked her off balance. Together they pushed her backwards until she was forced to straddle the metal chair frame.
Sergeant Omar reached across and casually pinched her right nipple in a vicelike grip while the other stood heavily on her left foot. The shock of the twin assaults threw her off balance, allowing them to press her down onto the bare metal, her thighs splayed wide over the sides; her feet tucked backwards.
Through her tears the young secretary saw the lieutenant walking over from a small table, half hidden in the shadows that held what looked like some kind of electrical equipment and a clutter of other things. Things Yasmin had noticed when she was brought in but had tried so hard not to think about. A bundle of leather straps dangled from his right hand. Seeing Yasmin’s panic-stricken expression, he licked lips once again and smiled gently…
‘No, don’t, don’t touch me you bastards. You can’t do this; I don’t know anything, please, please… aaaah!’
Yasmin gasped and yelled when one of the men pulled her foot even further behind her, lifting her ankle and holding it there while the Lieutenant used a nylon cable tie to secure it it high up against the junction of the seat and the back leg of the chair. Moments later Yasmin’s other foot was secured in the same way. With her legs doubled back, she could feel the tubular side rails biting across her splayed thighs as she tried to hold herself in position on the frame.
Without warning, the Sergeant clamped his forearm across her throat, holding her still and helpless. Yasmin tried to scream as her wrists were cinched together with another tie then again as a second strap was tightened round her upper arms. Tightening that one cinched her elbows together, straining her shoulders back and thrusting her breasts forwards…presenting them for her torturer’s attention.
Without any warning the two of them bent her upper body forwards, someone wrenched her arms upwards, then down over this time over the top rail of the chair. Her bound arms were pulled down hard and her wrists cinched tightly against the crossbar where the seat rail joined the frame. The bar digging into the tender skin of her upper arms forced her to arch her torso backwards even though it meant that her breasts were thrust out even more prominently.
With the young secretary’s arms and ankles secured the man let her go. Yasmin panted and gasped for breath, her chest heaving with her efforts to draw breath. Now the two of them, took their time positioning and tightening the other straps, making sure that her thighs were splayed as wide apart as possible. She tried to fight of course, trying her hardest to struggle. But since she was effectively only able to arch her back, flex her fingers and toes and move her head there was nothing she could do stop them.
Within a few minutes of the Colonel’s quiet command, Yasmin Hamad, an unimportant nineteen year old secretary in an obscure government department, was helpless, naked and strapped down into a torture chair… the same chair that woman who had betrayed her had occupied less than forty-eight hours before…
The Colonel took his time studying the young woman’s obscenely displayed figure while he lit another cigarette. He smiled and nodded to Lieutenant Modi. ‘Very good, Lieutenant, she’s all yours.’
The Lieutenant walked to the chair, leaned over Yasmin and lazily twined the fingers of his left hand in her long black hair. Deliberately and slowly he pulled her head backwards until she was staring up into the blinding spotlights. ‘Now… this is the point where you tell me all about your American… and what you were giving him…apart from a good fuck that is.’
He didn’t finish but cupped the firm globe of her right breast with his other hand. ‘Pretty, and sensitive too, aren’t they…’ he murmured, his thumb gently stroking the long hard stub of her nipple. He smiled as the young secretary bucked and shivered at his caress. ‘You’ll be amazed just how sensitive this little peak can be… if you are stubborn.’
She pleaded with him, her voice frantic with terror. ‘I don’t know what you want, really I don’t. Robert is American, a businessman… He’s no spy… just a friend, nothing more… Please, stop this, please…’
The Lieutenant sighed sarcastically. ‘Wrong answer Yasmin, completely wrong…’ He looked down then without warning pinched and twisted her right nipple in a single vicious movement. Yasmin arched backwards with a shrill scream of agony. ‘She’s bucking up too much, I want another strap across under her tits.’ The lieutenant released his hold on her breast but continued to study the young woman as the sergeant fastened another, wider strap just beneath her breasts and round the back of the chair under her arms.
‘Yasmin gave a strangled gasp as the big sergeant pulled the buckles so tight that her flesh bulged over the edges of the supple leather band. This time when he twisted her other nipple she could only strain up against the strap a little way. ‘Better, don’t want you wriggling too much, after all remember what they were doing to poor little Meena? The thing they used to tickle her while we were watching, you remember how she screamed?’
Yasmin remembered only too well.
She’d been dragged out of the cell and along a dimly lit corridor. The one in the chair watching her had been waiting outside a door. Even though she had no idea who he was she knew he was in charge. She heard one of the men call him ‘Colonel’ as they held her in front of him. She remembered how neat and clean he looked; crisp white shirt open at the neck, black trousers with a sharp crease and expensive looking shoes. She saw the glint of gold from his watch. But what made her really scared was his expression. He looked at her with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes as he studied her body. It was a cruel smile of sadistic anticipation as he opened the door. ‘There’s something I want you to see, Miss Hamad…Yasmin,’ he’d said.
Yasmin remembered being pushed into the room and hearing a horrible gasping bubbling noise coming from the figure in front of her. There were men in the room but all she could stare at was the naked girl who was sitting astride a metal frame with her body bent forwards. She was bent forwards because her arms were strapped together behind her back and hoisted painfully up towards the ceiling by a rope. One of the men walked over and said something like, ‘she’s ready for you, Sir,’ then lifted up the girl’s head by her hair
‘NO…OH NO! PLEEESE…NOOOOOOOO! MEENA! You can’t, pleeese! PLEESE STOP IT!’
Yasmin had screamed when she realised the girl was Meena. She was making the bubbling noise because there was a plastic ring holding her jaws and mouth wide open – a ring held in place by tight straps so all she could do was drool and make wet gobbling noises.
The Colonel let her look at her cousin and continue her pleading for a bit longer then held up his hand. Yasmin stopped knowing that to disobey would only make things worse…for both of them. ‘Your cousin has been most helpful…she’s explained all about your American friend and been entertaining my men. Now, before we ask you to give us the rest of that story, she’s going to help us show you what happens to people who decide not to co-operate...’ He looked at the short black stick-like object in the guard’s hand and shook his head. ‘No, no, not yet…let’s keep things simple for Miss Hamad…start with the cane…another twenty strokes will do.’
The guards had forced Yasmin round to the side of the metal frame and she gasped in horror. Meena had been whipped or caned so hard that her bottom and thighs were a mass of thin purple-red lines. Some of the marks crossed others. Yasmin could see little smeared dots of blood against Meena’s olive skin.
The men had grinned and laughed at the Colonel’s order. The guard picked up a thin, pale yellow rod and flicked it up and down so it whirred in the air. Yasmin shuddered. She had only been disciplined with a cane once or twice but she still remembered how much it had hurt. They had tortured poor Meena so much already and now they were going to cane her again and she couldn’t do anything to stop them.
Meena had wrenched and wriggled madly as she saw the man holding the cane, her head shaking from side making drools of saliva flick onto her cheeks and breasts. Yasmin remembered trying to reach forwards to comfort her but being dragged back by the guards.
She remembered the horrible wet ‘swick’ sound each time the cane hit the taut curves of Meena’s buttocks…and how Meena jolted and arched forwards, muscles shivering, with each stroke. Yasmin had screamed in protest.
‘NO…NOOOO...PLEEESE…DON’T! PLEEEESE STOP…PLEEES!’
She remembered thinking that Meena, in her agony, looked like a jockey riding on the frame, her body surging back and forwards, legs straining and jerking, head tilted back and her back arched with her breasts bouncing and jiggling wildly. She’d watched them give her ten awful strokes then the Colonel had held up his hand. At first she’d though he’d listened to her protests…but he’d moved very close and whispered in her ear. ‘Watch carefully Miss Hamad…there are other, more unpleasant ways to use a cane to discipline young ladies.’ Then he’d just looked across at the guard and said, quite casually, ‘another ten…in the cunt this time.’
Yasmin wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Someone had brought a low box and put it on the left of the frame. The guard had climbed on it then turned so he was looking at Meena’s bottom. Before Yasmin realised what he was doing he steadied himself using his left hand to hold Meena’s upraised arms then brought the cane whirring down between her spread buttocks. For a moment Meena didn’t react at all…then she arched back and a wild hooting cry of agony filled the small room.
The colonel had frowned and walked round to stand behind Meena. The guard changed position slightly. This time the sound of the impact was different, like a piece of wet material being slapped against a rock and Meena’s slobbering screams became even wilder and more agonised.
He’d crooked his finger and Yasmin had been pushed round behind the frame. From there she’d been able to see how much the bars splayed Meena’s thighs apart. Not just that but, because her cousin was bent forwards, Yasmin could see the split bulge of her cunt and the tight rosette of her anus were completely exposed. She tried to look away when the third stroke snapped across the exposed outer lips of Meena’s cunt. The guard had twisted her head back and held her hair so she was forced to watch every horrible moment of her cousin’s cruel torture.
The next two strokes actually cut right up between the labia. Yasmin saw the fine spray of wetness as the pale rod snapped against the moist inner lips and Meena’s swollen clitoris. Her scream was a cry of pure agony.
Meena fainted at the eighth stroke. The Colonel had waited for a few moments then flicked his fingers and held out his hand. One of the guards handed him the black sticklike rod. ‘Now Miss Hamad, this is a cattle prod.’ He’d showed her the two rounded terminals protruding from one end and pressed the switch. She remembered the fizzing crackle as a fat blue-white spark danced between the brass stubs, and the odd, sharp electrical smell. He took his thumb off the switch and walked over to Meena’s slumped figure. ‘Let me show you how it works.’
He had stroked the end of the prod across Meena’s sweat-slick skin. Yasmin had somehow known what he was going to do but she just stared at the wet swollen lips of Meena’s cunt as the Colonel delicately positioned the rod so one brass terminal touched the rim of her slit on either side. ‘Time to wake your cousin up from her nap…’
Meena’s eyes bulged wide open and she surged upright, all her muscles rigid and shivering with the effect of the current. It was only on for five seconds but when he lifted his thumb from the switch, Meena slumped forward, her breath coming in huge gulps as though she just run a race. The Colonel smiled and moved the rod very gently until Meena’s clitoris was between the blunt terminals. ‘Watch and learn, Miss Hamad…watch and learn…’
Meena snapped back in another arch of agony, muscles locked in spasm as the current seared her clit. He’d smiled at her again when he moved the prod up until the brass terminals touched her anus. This time Meena’s squeal of agony had been even louder. She had been forced to stand their watching as he’d used the cattle prod on her anus and clitoris ten more times before Meena fainted again.
That was when he’d ordered the guards to take Yasmin to this room.
In the room Colonel Behadri relaxed while he puffed contentedly on his cigarette. He knew that the young secretary had been remembering what they had done to her cousin, realising that it was now her turn. She stared across at him and then sideways with sheer horror at the short black rod the lieutenant was holding in his right hand. The cattle prod looked just like the other one, except that the end with the brass prongs was red, not black. The lieutenant held it towards her and pressed the button on the handle. She tried vainly to twist away, staring at the fizzing spark arcing between the electrodes. ‘Oh yes, Miss Hamad, this comes next.’
Putting the prod down, he took the tip of Yasmin’s left breast between forefinger and thumb and rolled it gently while watching the nipple rouse and stiffen. Satisfied with the results of his ministrations, he brought her right nipple to the same jutting hardness then reached over to the small table, picked up a tube and squeezed a clear gel onto his fingers. He gripped the young secretary’s now swollen teats, rubbing his slippery fingertips round the stubs. He chuckled as she continued to pant and shiver, staring down at the glistening peaks of her breasts and trying to ignore the betrayal of her own body.
The Lieutenant picked up the cattle prod and waited for the Colonel’s brief nod. ‘So, Miss Hamad let’s begin,’ he said softly and touched her shoulder with the copper prongs, ‘just a taste.’
‘Hurts, doesn’t it. But some places are so much more sensitive,’ he smiled and traced the prongs around the edge of her aureole and then moved the end of the rod until the hard peak of her right nipple was between the blunt copper studs. ‘Tell me about Mr Masters,’ he said…and pressed the button on the handle very briefly.
Yasmin Hamad slammed back, her body curving in a quivering arch as her muscles went in spasm with the shock. Her scream echoed round the room then turned into a series of sobbing gasps as he took the prod away. ‘It’s so easy really, just a little touch…’ He moved his hand and touched the rod to her left breast, one prong resting on the darker circle of her aureole the other just touching the very tip of her nipple and pressed the switch again.
The guards moved closer, watching intently as the lieutenant used the cattle prod with sadistic skill. He shocked her ten more times, five contacts to each breast. Each time he paused and tormented her by touching the rod to her skin in different places, her abdomen, her underarms and her inner thighs.
He continued smiling each time she jerked and shuddered, anticipating the shock that didn't come…that time. Then taking his sadistic pleasure he waited until she was trembling and whimpering with terror before touching the peak of her breast again…making quite sure she could see that one of the brass electrodes was just grazing the swollen tip of her nipple. And then….
‘ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHH! Nooooooo, ah, the pain, p-please, no, it hurts, p-p-p-leeeeeease…!’
‘Who gave you the messages?
‘What did Robert Masters give you in return…?’
The lieutenant waited, letting the shuddering, heaving breaths calm a little before repeating the question. Yasmin continued to shake her head, her eyes screwed tightly shut, as she tried to ride the pain blazing in her breasts. The lieutenant smiled at the sergeant, making an unmistakable rubbing gesture with thumb and forefinger as he did so.
He smiled in return, moved behind the chair then leaned over the pinioned young secretary and gripped each swollen nipple between forefinger and thumb, rolling the scorched peaks slowly from side to side. Suddenly he pinched his fingers and thumbs together then twisted his wrists. Yasmin’s eyes popped open and she arched up in agony… She stared down at the man’s thick, callused fingers digging into the tips of her breasts… then her head titled upwards and a single piercing scream echoed from the thick walls of the underground room… a scream that went on and on as her torturer continued to squeeze and twist the swollen peaks… very slowly.
Finally, at a nod from the lieutenant, he let go so the soft globes bounced and jiggled with the nineteen year old’s sobbing breaths. Yasmin stared down at the throbbing tips of her breasts. In her ear, the lieutenant’s voice was soft and without pity. ‘Still trying to be brave, Miss Hamad…’
The girl’s eyes widened in disbelief and outrage as he lifted the prod and slid it over the oiled flesh until the erect nipple of her left breast was again between the copper electrodes.
‘Oh please don’t, please you can’t hurt me again… I’ve told you… I DON’T KNOW ANYTHIN…YYYAAAAAAARGH!’
The final few words disintegrated into a scream of agony
Lieutenant Modi carefully positioned the prod so Yasmin’s right nipple was between the brass electrodes and pressed the switch again…
‘YEEEEEEAAARRRRGGGHHH! No-no-no-no, ah, no, please, please, PLEEEESSSSSEEE! NOOOOOOOO!’
Yasmin Hamad fainted.
‘No stamina at all these girls…’ The Colonel said dismissively as the lieutenant yanked the young secretary’s head back by the hair. Lieutenant Modi studied her tear-stained face more closely. ‘You’re hiding something, Miss Hamad… I know it.’ He looked at the guards. ‘Wake the bitch up.’ Moments later Yasmin was spluttering and coughing as a bucket of cold water slammed into her face. Lieutenant Modi waited until she had finished gasping and choking. ‘Very well, Miss Hamad, since you want to be difficult let us try something else.’
Yasmin Hamad shook the water from her face and looked up at the hard, pitiless faces of the Lieutenant, Colonel and the guards. ‘G-g-go f-f-fuck yourself, you bastards…t-told you… n-n-nothing to say…’
The Lieutenant smiled and gripped the young secretary’s chin with one hand. He squeezed so her lips pouted out then shook her head gently from side to side. ‘So stupid,’ he said softly, ‘you and that other slut have only had a little tickle so far…you’ve no idea of all the truly unpleasant things we can do to young ladies who won’t co-operate.’ Letting her chin go he straightened up and looked down at the way she was strapped to the chair frame. ‘The bitch wants to do things the hard way. Get her legs spread…I want her wide open…then we’ll see how much she likes having her cunt tickled.’
Yasmin screamed as she saw the gleam of a knife blade, only to gasp with short-lived relief when the guard only used it to cut away the ties cinching her ankles to the chair seat. But there was no freedom. Even as she tried to flex her knees, ropes were tied to her ankles before being fed through rings set into the concrete wall high up on either side of the room.
Lieutenant Modi knew exactly what she was thinking. That was why he waited until he was sure that both guards were ready, holding the ropes taut but not tight, before of bending over the shivering secretary to unbuckle the thigh straps.
Yasmin Hamad though she had a chance…just a little one…when they undid those straps. But she was wrong. Before she could even bring her thighs together both guards leaned all their weight on the ropes and her legs were wrenched wide apart. She struggled as much as she could, trying to resist but they kept pulling, grinning broadly as they strained her slim, toned legs upwards and outwards to either side and forcing Yasmin into an obscene splits.
Colonel Behadri just sat and watched impassively while the stretching tension in her legs lifted the young secretary’s bottom from the chair frame so her cunt and anus were obscenely exposed by the relentless pull of the ropes. Lieutenant Modi watched her struggles, waiting until the tension in the ropes was enough to hold her securely for the torture to come. At his nodded signal the guards tied the ropes securely leaving Yasmin pinioned by her legs and the wide belly-strap holding her against the chair frame. With the tension in her body, her hips canted up and her upper body arched back, she was completely exposed to the cruel attentions of her tormentors.
She stared defiantly into the dimness beyond the lights as the sadistically grinning sergeant moved the small table she’d noticed earlier. As well as a jumble of wires there was a square metal box on the top. He dragged a chair across then sat down. His white teeth gleamed in the dimness as he adjusted some sort of controls on the box. She couldn’t see what he was doing but she could see there were two red wires plugged into the box. They looped down onto the floor then up where they were coiled loosely on the tabletop.
Yasmin suddenly noticed there was a third connection to the box, a thicker black cable that curved down to a squat, black shape on the floor. There was a sharp click and a glowing red ‘on’ light appeared on it. A soft, low humming filled the silence.
She understood. It was some kind of electrical control box and the wires were…
‘Aaaaaah, no, no, God no… no you can’t no, nooooooo!
Yasmin screamed, panicking, as she understood what they were about to do to her. She screamed again when the Lieutenant picked up the coiled wires. The toothed copper clips attached to the ends made a metallic clicking as they dangled from his hand.
‘Now do you understand, Miss Hamad…’ the Colonel said softly as she lolled forwards, mouth working as she fought to recover her senses. ‘Still nothing more to tell me yet… no words?’ He paused, watching the defiant spark in her eyes.
She gabbled in terror. ‘P-p-please, n-no more… see you must believe me now… I don’t know about any messages.’ She shook her head, trying in vain to toss the wet strands of hair away from her eyes. She continued pleading; her voice breaking with pain and desperation while the Lieutenant gently stroked the hair away from her sweat-soaked cheeks.
‘Oh dear… I’m afraid I don’t believe you…. So, can you guess where I’m going to put these little copper crabs…?’ He waited until the frantic gabble of protest subsided. The Lieutenant stroked the girl’s shoulders then reached down between the widely parted thighs to fondle the soft, wet lips of her cunt. She screamed as his fingers touched her clitoris. ‘Strange isn’t it, how the places that give most pleasure also allows me to inflict the most pain…’
Yasmin threw herself to and fro so hard that the straps creaked and smears of blood appeared at her ankles and under her breasts where the bellyband had rubbed her flesh raw. Silence fell, a silence only interrupted by the background hum of the transformer and the broken, ragged panting of the young woman strapped to the chair. After a minute or so the Lieutenant took his hand away then pushed her head down between her breasts so she was staring at the fork of he body. He rocked her head from side to side, ‘So much for your pleasure, now you’ll give me the answers I want. Look down…’ he waited but Yasmin screwed her eyes shut. He slapped her so her head rocked to the side. ‘DO WHAT I TELL YOU!’
He waited as she opened her eyes and stared down at the split bulge of her cunt. ‘Good, now watch carefully…’ Yasmin Hamad stared; eyes wide with horror, as her torturer took one of the wires then carefully parted her slippery labia with forefinger and thumb and brought the thin snout of the copper clip closer and closer. He pressed the ends of the clip so it opened and Yasmin was able to see see the sharp, triangular teeth lining the jaws.
A single stifled cry escaped from between her clenched teeth as he moved the fleshy hood gently aside with one fingertip to expose the swollen stub of her clitoris… then let the toothed edges close on the protruding stem.
‘N-n-nooooooo, p-please, no… ARRRGGGHHH!’
The men waited until Yasmin’s writhing spasms had calmed a little. The Lieutenant straightened up, wiped his fingers and up the object that was connecting to the other wire. He ignored the girl’s harsh, panting gasps. ‘This comes next, Miss Hamad… all the way up inside, he paused, ‘front or back?’ The wire went into the handgrip of a pencil thin, curved rod that tapered down to a rounded tip no thicker than a knitting needle. The rod and the handgrip were covered in black insulation…apart from the last half-inch and the rounded tip. Lieutenant Modi brought it closer, enjoying the girl’s frozen expression as he rubbed the exposed copper tip of the electric probe with gel.
‘Let’s see if this is as good as your American stud shall we…’ Yasmin bucked violently against the straps holding her so horribly open as she felt the slippery tip nuzzling her anus. The lieutenant twisted the handle very gently, pressing up so the slim rod slipped into the young woman’s rectum.
‘Oh, p-p-p-pleeeese…n-n-not T-THERE! N-N-NUH... GAAAH!’
The Lieutenant, knowing that the most intense shocks would come when he rubbed the bare tip of the electrode against the sensitive inner walls of the girl’s rectum, continued the slow deliberate impalement of the young secretary, sliding the thin shaft deeper inside.
He nodded to the sergeant, holding up three fingers in silent signal. There was a click. The soft buzzing from the control box was suddenly louder and the young secretary’s arching spasm even more intense than when she had been shocked with the cattle prod. He gently rocked the probe, moving the curved tip deep inside so the current seared up and down the nerve-rich tissues, listening for the spot where her screams were loudest. The flesh turned white around the ankle straps as the big muscles in her thighs tensed like iron. Yasmin Hamad flung her head back, the tendons of her neck standing out like cords, her mouth wide in a mad grimace of agony.
The guard seated at the table kept the current flowing as he carefully worked the electrode to and fro inside the demented young woman. Judging each movement by the volume of her screams, she kept Yasmin at the peak of pain for nearly two agonising minutes. Finally he pulled the probe free and let her collapse back against her bonds. For a few moments there was only the noise of her rapid gasping breath. Then she looked at the Lieutenant, her hair plastered against her forehead, her eyes staring in desperate appeal
‘P-Pleeese…i-i-it’s T-Tia, it’s not me, it’s T-T-Tia….’ Her voice broke into gasps and sobbing cries as she flopped forwards in her bonds. The guard lifted his thumb away from the button and looked across at Lieutenant Modi.
‘What, what was that? Tell me, Yasmin… you know you want me to stop all this… who’s this?’ The Lieutenant leaned close to the shivering, panting girl anxious to catch any further words. ‘No? Just another little touch then.’ His hand moved the probe so the copper tip was just inside the tight rosette of the young secretary’s anus, looked across at the guard and nodded. Yasmin arched back in agony and her screams suddenly rose in pitch as he gave the probe a slow, careful twist. The current was cut and she slumped down, bubbling and whimpering, chest heaving with the strain and agony of the electricity searing her clitoris and anus. This time she was desperate to talk.
‘Iiiiiiiihhh! No, no, please… Oh God, no more. It’s my c-c-c-cousin, T-Tia Safiq… she works in the army radio centre. W-w-w-we share d-dates. S-she likes Americans. Sometimes she asks me to give her friends t-things. That’s all I do, honestly…’
‘Your cousin’s address?’ The lieutenant slid the probe a little deeper.
Yasmin, too busy with the throbbing agony of the electric shocks, didn’t reply for a moment and the guard’s thumb moved in the darkness. The transformer buzzed louder and the young secretary squealed as her body jerked and shuddered in another arching curve of agony.
‘ARRRRRRRGGGGH!! NO! NO! P-p-please… M-m-m-m-Market Square, n-n-n-north side number 218 it’s the top fla…’
Yasmin’s head fell forwards as shame, agony and exhaustion combined and she slumped unconscious. Colonel Behadri studied the limp body for a moment, noting the deep circles under her eyes and the marks on her lips where she had bitten herself. There was a groan from Yasmin when the lieutenant slid the probe out of her rectum. But she jerked awake with another shriek of pain when he unclipped the copper jaws from her clitoris.
Her head lolled as she panted and gasped, stupidly imagining that her ordeal was over. Her eyes opened wide in terror when the lieutenant stroked her cheek and moved a strand of hair that was plastered against her sweat-soaked skin. His smile was cruel.
‘So foolish,’ he said quite softly. ‘I told you it was pointless to pretend you had nothing to tell me. All this discomfort.’ She shuddered as he traced one finger down across the curve of her left breast, ‘for a pretty girl like you…’ He cupped her breast and rolled his thumb across the swollen teat. She bucked and gasped as he touched the raw place where the cattle prod had scorched her nipple. ‘Sore now…but in a little while…’ she shuddered again and moaned as he stroked her thigh and then, very delicately ran one finger along the wet, sticky rim of her cunt slit. ‘There’ll be no marks at all…no proof of anything.’
‘I-I-I’ve t-t-told you everything…pleeese! You’ve got what you wanted…let me go…PLEEESE!’
Tears trickled down her cheeks and she gasped and twisted against the straps and ropes holding her legs spread apart as he continue to tease his fingers around the rim of her cunt then down until his forefinger touched the swollen, pouting ring of her anus.
‘Ah, but that’s what you say, Miss Hamad,’ His finger moved again, making her squirm as he stroked the wet inner folds. ‘But think of my position.’ One fingertip grazed the hot, swollen bulb of her clit and she arched and bucked.
‘You see I have to be sure you’re telling me and the Colonel the truth…and not just making up names so we will stop hurting you…’
Yasmin twisted and arched again, cutting across the lieutenant’s comments with another frantic appeal to the colonel standing on the edge of the lighted area. ‘NOOOOO! Oh God! Please Colonel you must believe me…please I’ve told you what you want to know…PLEEEES! You can’t hurt me again…PLEASE, YOU CAN’T!’
The Lieutenant took his finger off her anus for a moment and flicked a glance at the Colonel. ‘Of course I can, Miss Hamad…yes, I think we need to be really sure.’ His fingertip pressed against the tight rosette of her anus. ‘The clip here this time I think…’ Yasmin craned to stare down in total shock and horror between her splayed thighs. He traced his fingertip up the wet slit again and stroked the pale nub of her clitoris very gently. ‘Then a touch of my little probe here and we’ll see what more you have to tell us.’
‘NO! NO! NAAAAAH! P-P-PLEEEESE…I DON’T KNOW ANY MORE!’
Her voice cracked, breath coming in gasping terrified pant as she saw the lieutenant lean forward holding the crocodile clip open with his left hand. The clip touched Yasmin’s anus. He pushed gently and one jaw slid inside despite her efforts to clench tight. Then he relaxed his grip…and the other jaw clamped tight pinching the sensitive rim of her anal ring.
‘ARRRGH…HAH…NAH! TAKE IT OFF! N-N-N-P-PLEEESE…H-H-HURTS! AAARRR...’
‘Try four this time,’ the Colonel murmured to the lieutenant. He nodded at the sergeant holding by the control box. There was a click and the soft humming buzz from the machine got louder. He crouched between Yasmin’s spread legs and delicately touched the copper tip of the other electrode to the stem of the young woman’s clitoris.
Yasmin Hamad’s body arched up, muscles shivering tight in spasm and straining against the straps and ties holding her in position on the chair. For a few seconds there was no sound at all…then her wild scream echoed round the hot, stinking room.
Lieutenant Modi moved his hand, stroking the rounded tip under the hood then to and fro very gently across the exposed bulb of Yasmin’s clitoris for a full fifteen seconds before lifting it away. Yasmin slumped down, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth where she’d bitten her tongue, her breath rasping and wheezing as she fought for air.
He waited for her breathing to quieten then touched the young secretary’s cunt delicately with the copper tip again. This time he concentrated on the soft folds of Yasmin’s inner lips. He listened to the intensity of young woman’s screaming responses as the current seared through her cunt. He ran the tip along the rim then delicately probed the keyhole at the top Yasmin’s cunt slit before lifting the curved rod away once more allowing the young secretary to collapse, shuddering and shaking at the agony she was being forced to endure.
At a nod from Colonel Behadri he leaned closer and stroked the copper electrode across the swollen bulb of the young woman’s clitoris again.
‘TIA!...IT’S T-TIA! PLEEEESE! Tuh-TUH Toooo wun ate…TOOWUNATE! M-M-MA-MA- MARKET! NAAAAAARGH!’
Colonel Behadri snapped his fingers and Yasmin collapsed in her bonds as the current was cut. ‘I think she’s trying to say Tia and 218 Market Square again. Perhaps she was telling the truth after all.’ Colonel Behadri lit another cheroot and looked across at one of the guards. ‘Phone the squad room. Tell Lieutenant Tariq he has an arrest to make… it seems there is yet another young lady who can help us with our enquiries.’
He looked at the semiconscious figure strapped to the chair frame. ‘That’s good work, Lieutenant.’ He looked across at the guards. ‘Put this one in a cell in case we need to talk to her again.’
He paused and smiled, ‘Lieutenant…I want you find out if her cousin has anything else to tell us. She’s all ready just up the corridor. They’ve got her straddling a frame and she’d already had her clitoris caned so it’s nice and swollen. Take a break first and let the men fuck her again.’ He looked at the crocodile clip gripping Yasmin’s swollen anus. ‘I suggest you use the same on her cousin…one on her anus and then you can have fun practicing on her clitoris with that probe you like so much .’
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