Stopped at the Border

Stopped at the Border

Cindy Williams rubbed the grit from her eyes and tried to see through the dust cloud cloaking the bus as it shuddered its way towards the border post at Tengani. The only white person aboard, the eighteen year olds’ short blonde hair, blue eyes and honey gold tan had made her an object of curiosity for the other travellers over the exhausting thirteen hours of the journey to the border.

Trying to ignore the blatant stares, she was thankful that, for once, she’d listened to Carol’s advice. Loose trousers, a man’s denim shirt and her most battered pair of trainers may not have been the height of fashion but at least she was comfortable and covered up. She grinned to herself as the bus rattled through the scrub and fringe jungle of Central Africa. Just how many other kids of her age had a chance to take a trip like this?

Carol Hasani was watching Cindy’s excitement. The twenty eight year old Arab-American lawyer had become the teenager’s unofficial aunt when she worked in LA, keeping an eye on her through the rows and mess of her parent’s divorce and the girl’s subsequent spoilt brat phase when she discovered the illicit thrills of underage sex. She’d lost contact when she’d taken the African posting and it was only a chance remark during a telephone conversation on Cindy’s eighteenth birthday that had led to Cindy joining Carol for a holiday in the African sun.

Carol was now wishing she’d kept her mouth shut and not made the offer that Cindy was welcome to stay for a month or so. Naturally, she had never mentioned her own covert work for the opposition, and because things had been quiet for the last few months, had pushed the threat posed by the current regime to the back of her mind.

Then, out of the blue, things had suddenly got very bad indeed. There was no U.S. embassy in the country and with the airports closed and martial law looming; the long road journey was the only way of getting them both to safely. What had been a few weeks holiday was now something horribly different. Her own situation was even more dangerous.

In the last week two of her friends had simply vanished. Carol tried not to think about it but images, especially images of Judith, the woman who’d recruited her two years ago, stripped naked and being tortured in some stinking basement while those animals from Internal Security watched, laughed and took turns to rape her in between interrogation sessions.  Carol had been very uncertain about what to do because of the transport difficulties and the need to look after Cindy. Then, two days ago, there had been a very brief and hurried call from Judith had telling her to get out immediately because the Internal Security Service wanted both of them.

Trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable on the battered seat, Carol was relieved that the wilful teenager had listened to her advice for once and Cindy’s usual skimpy tops and tight shorts were hidden in her bag. The girl was very well developed for her age and usually took every opportunity to ensure that everyone else got a good look at her firm, tip-tilted breasts. At least the fusillade of gunfire last night and the sight of those grim, sun-glass wearing thugs racing through the streets in their open jeeps had actually made her understand just how bad things were.

Like Cindy, Carol had also played safe by wearing a long sleeved loose-fitting man’s shirt but she’d preferred a full-length cotton skirt to trousers. At least on the bus I won’t have to worry about who the horny little minx is fucking for a few days, thought Carol wryly.

She felt a sudden rush of warmth in her groin and squeezed her thighs together as she recalled the incident three days before. The day on the beach had been snappy and difficult with arguments about the brevity of Cindy’s bikini followed by sulky tantrums when she’d forbidden the teenager to sunbathe topless. Cindy’s bikini was virtually indecent anyway.

The tiny top and g-string bottom in white stretch fabric left nothing to the imagination and it was obvious that Cindy had chosen the smallest size she could get into. The proud, high-riding globes of her breasts were barely covered at all and even if the tiny triangles of material actually covered her aureoles the fabric was so sheer that the hard, sharp spikes of her nipples and the darker surrounding circles were quite clearly visible.

If anything the brief g-string was even more revealing. From the back with the string tucked high in the cleft of her bottom she might as well have been naked. From the front, the low cut vee of thin fabric was stretched so tautly over the plump bulge of her cunt that every fold and hollow was on show

It was only during that decency argument when Carol looked at Cindy lying on her back on the sand with her legs a little apart that she had realised the eighteen year olds’ mound and labia were quite clearly plucked or shaved clean and smooth...and from the lack of any obvious tan lines she did most of her sunbathing at home in the nude.      

When they’d finally got back to the flat Cindy had flounced into her room and slammed the door. Carol had given her half an hour to calm down. Then she’d gone to Cindy’s bedroom intending to have strong words about her provocative behaviour and lay down a few basic rules about how different Africa was from a private pool in L.A. The sight of the teenage girl lying deliberately sprawled back on the sheets, flushed with arousal; the naked lips of her cunt still wet and glistening with her cream, had stopped her dead in the doorway.

It had taken all Carol’s willpower to ignore the explicit invitation in the scheming little slut’s eyes. She remembered staring; feeling the heat of her own blushes as Cindy slowly inserted one finger between those dusky pink folds, sliding it in and out in explicit pantomime. Carol had watched, frozen for long moments, as the girl’s caresses grew more urgent and her fingers strummed faster. 

Finally, she had somehow broken away, slamming the bedroom door behind her and running for the safety of the kitchen. Even there she could her the faint but unmistakable sounds of Cindy’s orgasm. Carol enjoyed sex but she’d never, never thought of Cindy in that way until that moment. Since then though, the wicked thought of lapping and tonguing Cindy’s delicious young cunt, listening to the squeals and hoots of pleasure as she made the teenager cum and cum again, had become her sole masturbation fantasy.

Carol clutched her bag against her body as the bus lurched to a halt at the checkpoint on the edge of the town. Orders were shouted and the passengers shuffled off to form two lines, men to the left, and women to the right. ‘Put these in your passport. Don’t offer but just let them take them.’ Carol whispered, passing Cindy some American dollars. ‘Whatever happens…keep close and let me do the talking… this could be difficult.’

The line shuffled forwards surrounded by gesturing, excited soldiers. Cindy pressed close to Carol, finally aware that this was one time to keep her mouth firmly shut. Reaching the makeshift desk Carol held out her passport, Cindy copied her, also making sure that the green and cream edge of the dollar bills peeped from between the leaves. There were three men behind the table. Hands scrabbled through the pages, insolent eyes casually stripped the elegant lawyer and her young companion and coarse remarks, deliberately said in English and loud enough to be overheard, brought a flush to Carol’s cheeks and salacious grins from the soldiers. The dollar bills vanished like magic.

More soldiers gathered, chattering and joking... The money tucked into Cindy’s passport vanished equally quickly. A series of quick, brusque questions followed; yes, they’d come from the capital, no they’d booked in but the flight was overfull and they’d been bumped and unable to get other seats. No, they were going by bus to Tengani, then on to Makali airport to fly to the States. Yes they had reservations on a flight from Makali. Finally, shaking with tension, the two women were waved through the checkpoint.

Carol took two steps away from the line and…

‘A moment, if you please…’ the man was slim, about sixty with silver flecked hair and a quiet commanding presence. Against the dusty uniforms his gleaming white shirt and black trousers looked immaculate, as though freshly pressed. ‘Well, well, Miss Hasani… it is Miss Carol Hasani, isn’t it?’ A snap of the fingers and their passports and papers were immediately handed over. ‘I am Asmal Karif, Colonel Karif...Internal Security… I believe we need to have a little talk…’

‘Bring her!’ Two men grabbed Carol, a third seized her bag and she was hustled away towards the grim mass of the old colonial fort that dominated the border town. Noise and movement erupted as the rest of the soldiers began shouting and pushing the rest of the passengers back to the bus.

‘Leave her alone you bastards!’ Cindy broke free and threw herself at the soldiers, fists thumping the guard’s back as they dragged Carol away. ‘Leave her alone I said…!’

Carol turned, ‘Cindy, shut up… just shut up! Get on the bus and get out. Tell them what happened after you cross the border… Just go...please!’ Carol hissed at her frantically

Her warning was already too late. Asmal Karif turned and pointed at Cindy. ‘Bring that one too…’ he said quietly to the security men at his side.  ‘Any friend of Miss Hasani may be useful… besides, the little bitch needs a lesson in manners.’

Hard, brutal fingers dug into Cindy’s upper arms and she too was dragged forwards, across the dusty square and through the dimness and shadows of the arched gateway into the fort. Once inside they were hustled along bare stone corridors and into a large windowless room. A metal desk, swivel chair and some metal frame chairs together with a battered filing cabinet and a picture of the President in full military splendour, made up all the furnishings.

‘Stand there!’ The guards pushed and shoved the two women in front of the desk.

Asmal Karif settled himself comfortably in the swivel chair, cold, black eyes raking over the two women before him. ‘Search them…’ Cindy cried out as coarse, probing fingers worked down her body. She made even more noise when the guard discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra and took full advantage, squeezing and pinching her firm, full breasts until she squealed and squirmed madly.

‘Owwwww! Bastards...don’t you...aaaah... you fucking bastards...Gaaaarrh!

A stream of obscenities and swearing made the guards grin happily as the lucky searcher then took his time fingering Cindy’s cunt. The outburst ended with a squeal of real pain as he forced his fingers up into the cleft between her legs. Her face suddenly screwed up in anguish as she teetered on tiptoe trying to reduce the sharp, agonising pains in her bottom as the man forced the rough denim of her jeans against the tight rosette of her anus.  

Carol tried to stifle her own cries of outrage as she was subjected to the same, deliberately crude, treatment. If anything this soldier took longer with her, mauling the large, firm globes and taking particular care to dig his nails agonisingly into her long nipples through the material of her bra. Like his friend, his fingers probed the folds of her slit and right up into her vagina deliberately scraping the material of her panties across the sensitive inner flesh of her body so she gasped through clenched teeth, twisting at the crude invasion.

The guards finally left the woman and the teenager standing alone. Cindy’s face was scarlet with a mixture of fear and rage. Carol was trembling violently; a reaction to being trapped within yards of freedom coupled with a growing terror of the ordeal she knew was inevitable. Internal Security operated outside what little law there was. Its officers had an evil reputation for cruelty and refined torture. If they really suspected her, if they had caught one of the others...she could expect a pitiless and exquisitely agonising interrogation. Her panic now was to shield Cindy from their attentions if that was at all possible.

The leather chair creaked as Karif leaned backwards. ‘I’m so pleased to catch you before your sudden departure, Miss Hasani. It was your friend, Judith N’tunga, who said where I might find you.’ He chuckled at her frozen expression of horror, ‘well, not immediately of course but, after some hours...well, lets just say she became very eager to tell us everything we wanted to know… very eager indeed.’ He chuckled at some memory, ‘once she’d stopped screaming of course.’

He watched as Carol expression tightened stubbornly at the deliberate sideways reference to the woman’s torture with a half-smile. ‘So, now we have found you, it’s your turn to… to fill in the gaps as it were.’ He looked at the way the pretty young lawyer lifted her head, the defiance in her eyes and the thin, tight line of her lips and smiled gently, ‘oh yes, you will tell us everything,’ he paused for a moment, ‘eventually…’

The grin on his face widened at the stubborn determination behind the fear and despair on Carol’s face. Playing with her growing terror he rocked back, taking his ease with cruel enjoyment. Working on this one was going to be most enjoyable. But maybe not the woman…well, not to begin with, he thought. He’d already noted the woman’s panic when the blonde teenager had interrupted things at the checkpoint.  Letting them work on the girl in front of her would provide extra amusement... and should overcome any reluctance to talk on the woman’s part.

With that thought in mind he deliberately turned the chair making it clear he was not interested in Carol at the moment. He studied the eighteen-year-old blonde American standing between the two guards with considerable appreciation. Her shirt had come undone to the waist so that the inner curves of her proudly jutting breasts were clearly visible. She was breathing in short, angry gasps, cheeks flaring red with embarrassment and anger at the crude body search. Such obvious signs of sulky bad temper from the pretty teenager seemed to amuse him even more.

‘Before our intimate little talk, Miss Hasani,’ he said dismissively over his shoulder. ‘I must first deal with your young friend’s manners, Omar!’ One of the guards, a hulking brute with a broken nose and thick, wet lip moved forwards. ‘Omar is a Nubian, Miss er,’ he leaned forwards and flicked open her passport,‘Williams. For centuries their women have been prized for beauty and their men for their strength and… endowment. He likes hurting people...so I suggest you don’t annoy him.

He had just sat back when, without warning, Carol Hasani wrenched her arms free and launched herself across the room, hands clawing for Colonel Karif’s face.

‘LEAVE HER ALONE! YOU BASTARD SHE’S NOTHING TO DO WI... AAAAAAAAH!’

She almost made contact but her furious onslaught turned into a gasping cry of agony as one of her guards slammed her forwards and down into the edge of the desk. Her scrabbling hands only managed to knock the folder of documents into the Colonel’s lap before she was lifted bodily and thrown to the floor. The two thugs held her down against the stones, their knees digging into her back and the tops of her legs as both hammered their fists into her ribs. Finally, one was able to twine his fingers in her short, black hair and she screamed again as he clenched his fist and wrenched head back in an agonising curve.

‘Splatt! Splatt! Splatt!’

Carol’s head jerked as far as the agonising grip in her hair allowed as he swung his other hand, right...left...right... three fast, punishing slaps across her face. The first blow brought a thin trickle of blood from her lip; the next two smeared the blood across her cheeks.

‘Enough...imbeciles…that’senough!’

For a moment there was a still tableau broken only by the rasping suck and hiss of Carol breathing. ‘And you are a fucking, stupid woman...’ the colonel’s eyes raked across the two panting guards, ‘and you two pieces of shit very nearly let her go completely.’ His voice was vicious as he opened a drawer and threw a white plastic security tie at them. ‘Get the bitch’s hands behind her and make sure she’s fucking well secure this time.’

Carol struggled but they were too strong for her and seconds later her wrists were held together behind her back. She felt the nylon loop against her skin then a sharp ‘ziiiitt’ of sound. She winced as the guard got a little of his own back by pulling the nylon strap as tight as possible so the band sank into her flesh and the hard edges cut into the skin round her wrists.

What she wasn’t prepared for was what happened next. She heard footsteps behind her but, before she could turn, something was dragged down over her head and her world turned into a stifling blackness stinking of dust, vomit and stale sweat. Fighting to get her breath and stave off panic inside the thick cotton hood she felt her self being turned and forced to walk forwards.

For a few moments nothing happened, the guards just stood there holding the bound and hooded figure of the young lawyer between them, both looking, grey-faced at the colonel’s fury and the hard glitter of those cruel eyes. ‘WELL, you stupid shits...what are you waiting for, a fucking medal...? GET THE BITCH OUT OF HERE!’

There was a scrabbling rush to hurry her towards the door. Somehow she still managed to half turn her body with one last effort. The words were muffled but audible ‘be brave Cindy...don’t worri...aaarrgh!’ One of guards cursed and punched her in the side under the ribs. Carol screamed in pain and doubled forwards, then she was gone and the door slammed behind the three of them.

Colonel Karif looked at the scowling, pock-marked face of the heavily built Nubian and then across to where Cindy stood between her guards shivering and shaking her head, whimpering softly at the sudden explosion of violence. The once-sassy teenager suddenly looked very slight and vulnerable between the two heavily built black men…but they still held her very tightly indeed.

The remaining guards were taking no chances. The Colonel was not a man it was wise to upset and they’d already seen the others make a bad mistake. The kind of mistake that meant there would probably be a punishment session in the yard later on. Mind you it was always exciting to watch someone being strapped to the frame in the courtyard then seeing the skin being peeled from their back and buttocks in strips with each stroke of the Colonel’s favourite rhino hide whip...just so long as it wasn’t you.

By the time the door slammed shut, the Colonel was sitting back quietly in his chair, but his lips were compressed in a thin line and there was more than a trace of controlled anger as he snapped at the big Nubian. ‘A chair for this spoiled American brat, Omar… and a cane.’ Omar’s lips twisted into a semblance of a grin as he shuffled to the side of the room and picked up a battered, metal-framed chair in one hand then reached down and picked up something from against the wall in the other.

Asmal Karif waited until Omar had put the chair down and moved back out of the way. ‘Right, now lets deal with you, Miss Williams, You will do exactly what I say… Omar is now going to give you ten strokes with that cane he is holding.’ He paused, ‘a punishment for your insults and part payment for Miss Hasani’s disrespect just now.’

Cindy moaned and shook her head in useless denial as tears trickled slowly down her cheeks. She stared in horror at the whippy rod in the grinning brute’s hands.  ‘For fuck’s sake stop that pathetic noise and listen to me...when I tell you, you will go over to that chair, bend over the back and put your hands flat on the seat. You will hold that position. If you do not… you will be tied down and the punishment doubled. Now, do what I’ve told you.’

Cindy continued staring in horror at the three-foot long bamboo cane the man he’d called Omar was flexing between his hands. She swung round, her face distorted with fear and total disbelief. ‘What! No! No, you can’t do this, you’re fucking insane...you can’t...I demand to see someone, I won’t, I won’t!’

‘That brings you five more strokes, Miss Williams… do you wish to continue the argument?’

For another few seconds she tried to outstare the Colonel before she broke eye contact with a choking sob.

‘You fucking bastards! I’ll get you for this you creep! Aaaaarrrgh!’  She jerked forwards violently as Omar, almost casually, whipped the cane round to slice across the backs of her thighs. The dull ‘swock’ of the impact was half muffled by her piercing scream. The colonel waited for Cindy’s outburst to die down then spoke into the silence.  

‘Another five...that brings the total to twenty so far...’

‘Oh God...please don’t...please...’ The grinning Nubian waddled forwards and grabbed Cindy’s right arm, he twisted it and forced her effortlessly towards the metal chair. ‘NO...NO, LET GO OF ME!’ She yelled and wrenched her arm free from Omar’s grip. ‘No-no-naaaah! Leave me alone you bastard! Just leave me...I’ll do it.’ Omar stood back as the Colonel flicked his fingers in command. Cindy took a long, shuddering breath and stood against the chair back. She paused again, looked at the cruel, excited faces around her and bent over just a little. She held the sides of the chair back and glared defiantly across at Colonel Karif lounging in his chair. 

Seeing him sitting there so obviously enjoying the situation made her forget the hurried advice Carol had given her only minutes before and her sudden flare of anger overcame common sense. She straightened up again and yelled, ‘I’ll get you all for this...you fucking perverts!’

The colonel merely shook his head. ‘Ah, still rude and stupid I hear. That adds another five strokes.’ He thought for a moment, ‘and, I think we should add an extra punishment for that little outburst...’ He smiled nastily without a trace of humour. ‘Before Omar begins you will take off your jeans. Such rudeness needs a much moredirect lesson, I fear.’

Cindy went white as she realised what her loss of temper had done. She started to say something…then looked at the grinning faces of the men around her and sobbed brokenly. It was only when she heard the shuffling of their feet and saw the three of them closing in on her that she finally bit her lip and undid the waist band. They all heard the sound of the zip and there were crude comments at Cindy’s wriggling dance as she eased the stiff material over her hips. Suddenly self-conscious the eighteen year old pulled the long shirt-tail down outside her jeans before holding the chair back and shuffling her legs, letting them slide down until she could step clear.

For the moment the young blonde teenager was still almost decent, her bottom covered by the long tail of the man’s shirt she was wearing. But, even so, when she bent over the chair again, her face was bright red and flushed with a mixture of outright fear and embarrassment. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor in front of her.

At a nod from his boss, Omar stripped off his own shirt to reveal a thick heavy body, once powerful but now running to fat. The oiled sheen of his jet-black skin emphasised his bulk as he swung his arms and stretched lazily. There was a sharp, acrid smell of sweat that Cindy caught as he padded closer. She tried to see what was happening but the angle of her arms got in the way.

‘You two! Grab her hands and hold her...I suspect that in a few moments she will try very hard to get up …’ Colonel Karif paused and stared at them hard. ‘It will go badly for you if she should succeed like the other one,’ he said quietly to the two guards. They moved to either side of the girl and their grimy hands clamped down on Cindy’s wrists forcing her to spread her palms flat on the chair’s canvas seat.

With the two men holding her down the colonel nodded to Omar. Without warning he pulled the tail of her shirt over her head. Hidden by the cloth, Cindy heard the laughter and crude, obscene comments from the guards at the sight of the smooth rounded curves of her taut little bottom being so abruptly revealed.

Although she’d followed Carol Hasani’s advice about her outer clothing, Cindy had little that was even remotely modest in her underwear. Today’s choice was no exception. A tiny white thong offered absolutely no concealment or protection. The thin cord had ridden up between her buttocks so the firm curves were completely naked and exposed for the caning to come. Not only that, since Cindy was only five foot four, her low bend over the chair meant that she was almost on tiptoe so her legs were straight. The backs of her thighs already taut and trembling as she tried to hold her strained and uncomfortable position with the metal bar of the chair back cutting into her abdomen and across the crease of her hips

All of them stared at the slim, tanned legs and taut buttocks shivering and twitching as she was held in position for the caning to begin. Colonel Karif chuckled.

‘Oh delightful, but I fear such a decadent display must be reprimanded even more severely. Add another five and make it thirtystrokes, Omar.’ Everyone in the room ignored Cindy’s wailing gasp of anguish completely.

The curve of Cindy’s lower body over the chair made her look even more slim and vulnerable against the weight and size of the men holding her down. Although the thin cord of her thong was drawn high into the cleft between her buttocks, the slight parting of the teenager’s legs allowed the colonel a glimpse of the white panties stretched taut over the bulge of her genitals. He nodded once. Of course, Cindy couldn’t see the colonel’s signal but she did hear the vicious swish of the cane through the air as the muscular Nubian brought his arm whipping round.

‘Thwuck!’

The cane landed with a horrible, solid impact that jolted Cindy forwards hard into the chair, jarring it across the floor so the men cursed. They pushed it straight, laughing in amusement as the teenager’s wild scream of shock and pain came from under the shirt.

‘Nnnngggaaaah!’

Cindy shuddered and threshed violently at the overwhelming shock of the blazing impact. The guard’s hands clenched tight, their bodies jerking in their effort to keep hold of her wrists despite the teenager’s wild surging as the searing pain of the first stroke built to its peak. The force of the springy rod’s contact indented Cindy’s cheeks so they quivered and jiggled; everyone could see the white mark of the impact slowly flushing red as the thin, purple-red weal developed into a burning, raised bar across the teenager’s tanned skin. Omar wet his lips, measured his distance and waited for the girl’s first frenzy to subside before taking aim once again.   

‘Thuck!’        ‘Thuck!’        ‘Thuck!’        ‘Thuck!’        ‘Thuck!’        ‘Thuck!’

The strokes fell with relentless precision, a slow, deliberate application of agony with each weal parallel to the last, the purple-red lines marching down the spasming cheeks like brands of fire.

‘N-n-n-n-n-aaarrggggg, aaah, Aaaah, ARRRGGGHHH!’

The sounds from under the shirt became a screaming, gabbled frenzy. Cindy Williams bucked and squirmed insanely as the count increased. By the eighteenth, Omar was sweating hard, his black skin gleaming and shining under the lights as he panted with the effort he was making. The screams from each new stroke brought a grin of pleasure that revealed a jagged fence of broken and blackened teeth. For Omar, part of that pleasure was watching and waiting patiently for exactly the right moment to strike again; timed to draw the most exquisite agony from the screaming teenager held down and bent double over the chair.

The two men at the front of the chair grinned and grimaced in turn as they exchanged comments and obscenities while fighting to keep a secure hold of the writhing teenager’s arms. By the tenth stroke each of them was leaning hard on the wrist he held with one hand while using the other to grip her upper arm and using his weight and leverage to keep her in position. They were fighting so hard to hold the slimly built girl that the metal chair clattered and scraped on the ancient floor and Cindy’s feet danced and slapped the worn stones with a wild tattoo with each new agony.

Omar stopped after the twentieth stroke… deliberately torturing Cindy with the false hope that she’d miscounted or been allowed some reprieve and it was all over. Half a minute later, as her screams subsided into whimpering, broken sobs, he stretched lazily, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and summoned an extra effort for the next five, vicious strokes.

‘THUCK!’        ‘THUCK!’        ‘THUCK!’        ‘THUCK!’        ‘THUCK!’

‘OH GOD! OH GOOOOOD! PLEEESSSEEE! Noooooo! Please NOOOOOOO!’

The teenager’s dance of screams echoed round the room but the men continued holding her down, this time they weren’t going to make the mistake of letting her go without clear orders.

He let the screaming diminish a little and waited until the girl’s wild dance of agony had stopped before placing the last five strokes like bars of fire across the tops of her thighs just under the crease of her bottom cheeks.

‘THWUCK!’        ‘THWUCK!’        ‘THWUCK!’        ‘THWUCK!’         ‘THWUCK!’ 

‘GAAAAARRRRGH! NAAAAH…NAAAAAAAAAAAAH! PLEEEEEEEEESSE!’

‘Enough… let her up.’ The men sat back and Cindy catapulted upright, face wet with tears, scrubbing frantically at the blazing bars across her buttocks and upper thighs. All dignity and bravado forgotten, she jiggled madly on the spot, her shirt flapping wildly as she tried to cope with the blazing, throbbing agony of the beating. The colonel smiled quietly at the show...knowing that the girl’s real ordeal had not even begun.

She danced and pranced wildly, oblivious of the show of bouncing breasts and long naked limbs she was presenting to her tormentors. Colonel Karif watched, his cock hard and uncomfortable in the tight confines of his trousers. It was not just the erotic stimulation of the sight of the girl being caned but the images of that pink and honey-gold figure screaming insanely as Fatima and his men worked on her in the interrogation room downstairs. The thought of Fatima made the Colonel look up. 

‘Come here...now!’ Colonel Asmal Karif’s voice cut across the red haze of her pain like a whip. This time Cindy did as she was told. With that foul black man standing ready with that awful cane, she never even thought of disobeying. The colonel picked up the phone and dialled a single number.

‘Fatima my dear,’ he laughed at some comment and chuckled, eyeing the sobbing girl still madly rubbing her abused bottom and jogging from foot to foot in pain. ‘I have a girl up here.... What? Oh eighteen, but with Americans it’s sometimes difficult to tell. Omar has just given her a lesson in manners... and I thought you might wish to...comfort her.’  He smiled at the reply, put the phone down and sat back watching Cindy’s antics for a few moments.

‘Miss Williams…’ the voice was quiet but the tone was icy, ‘I’m tired of your stupid antics. Stand still and be silent...unless you want a further twenty strokes?’ Cindy shook her head in terror, still twitching and rubbing her bottom but trying very hard to obey despite the throbbing, burning pain from the lines of raised weals lacing her buttocks and the backs of her thighs.

‘Well, after your lesson in manners, let me see what we have here...’ He tipped the contents of Cindy’s bag across the desk. Amid the tee shirts and froth of underwear, an ivory coloured cylinder clattered against the worn desktop. ‘Well, well… what an unexpected little toy.’ Asmal Karif let a smile flicker across his face as he ran one finger over the blunt point and down its ribbed length. He pressed the vibrator’s base and a hornet-like buzzing filled the room. ‘A young lady of passion I see.’

He looked up; eyes alight with cruelty as he studied the trembling, tearful figure of the teenager. ‘Omar, it appears you have competition,’ he chuckled and the men round the room laughed aloud as he held it up. ‘Miss Williams can show Fatima how effective it is...’ More laughter greeted the comment and Cindy’s ears burned with shame.

He studied the teenager for moment longer. ‘I will tell you something. I think your friend Miss Hasani, intends to ‘keep silent’ as they say. She will not succeed. But the process of extracting the information I want will be intensely enjoyable for me… and exquisitely painful for her...and for you too…’

‘P-please...please...I-I-I-I’m only here on holiday...I d-d-don’t know any-t-t-thing...p-p-please...please let me go...I’ll keep quiet...honest...please...’

‘Ah, so you say… I agree, you probably don’t know what this is about…unfortunately you are exactly the right person who can help me encourage Miss Hasani to remember those important little details I want to know… so I hope you can be particularly persuasive.’ He smiled directly at the quivering teenager and shook his head in mock sorrow. ‘Some of the things my people like to do to young and attractive girls are really quite unbearable...’ The humourless smile twisted his thin lips for a brief second as he stared at her then said, almost inconsequently, ‘it’s such a pity when you really don’t know anything important at all...because that means nothing you can say will make them stop.’

Again that cruel, fleeting smile crossed his face as he watched the young girl’s expression of total horror when she understood the threat behind his words. Cindy opened her mouth but the colonel laid one finger across his lips in unmistakable mime and nodded his head in the direction of the cane still clenched in Omar’s grasp.

She followed his gaze, shivered and kept silent while more tears trickled down her flushed cheeks. The colonel waved his hand in dismissal. ‘Take her next door.’ Cindy didn’t try and fight; she just gasped when the two guards grabbed her arms again and hustled her from the room.

The cell the guards pushed Cindy into was small; smooth concrete floor painted dull red, whitewashed stone walls and two lights behind wire mesh high up on opposite walls. The only furniture consisted of another battered metal frame chair against one wall and a wooden bench with thick legs that splayed out on either side. It was three feet long and a little under waist height but the top was only six inches wide. Cindy couldn’t work out if it was meant to be a seat or a table; whatever it’s purpose it looked strong and heavy. The wood was dark with age and places on the top showed a shiny polish in that suggested long use.

Without a word the men pushed her into the middle of the room and left. The door shut with a heavy thud behind them. Alone for the first time in hours Cindy tried to sooth her bruised and throbbing bottom. But, despite being careful, it still hurt as she touched the hot, raised weals however gingerly. She winced and swore under her breath, hopping from foot to foot as she twisted round trying to see if the cane marks looked as bad as they felt.

She whipped round to face the door when she heard the metallic ‘chonk’ of the door bolt. She clutched her arms across her chest and back up against the wall when Colonel Karif walked in followed by a middle-aged woman who looked at the colonel, smiled and said, ‘...so this is the American girl, the lawyer’s friend. So girlie, tell me, truthfully now, how old are you...really?’ 

Cindy, blinking in the cell’s harsh light, stared back in horror at the woman who had spoken. Early forties with olive skin, her long black hair pinned back into a severe bun, the style emphasising the strong, cruel lines of her face. The clothes added to the sense of authority, black knee length skirt that clung to the full curves of her hips, soft flat shoes and a black polo shirt that was taut over the swell of her breasts.

‘I asked you a question...how old are you?’ she repeated. The faint knowing smile was still there but there was an underlying cold menace very like the colonel’s soft, cruel words. Just as she was about to answer, Cindy saw the colonel whisper something to the woman and give her the ivory-coloured vibrator from her bag.The blonde teenager stuttered and flushed bright red, tripping over her reply in fear and embarrassment

‘Seven…I mean eightteen’

The woman studied her, a long, slow stripping stare that made Cindy blush even harder. ‘And you like fucking don’t you?’ The crude obscenity, so calmly stated, brought an involuntary nod of agreement from the terrified girl. Another cruel smile and the woman moved closer. ‘Let’s have a better look at you…’ Cindy froze, not even bothering to struggle as the colonel moved next to her, and gripped her wrists. Without any real force or resistance he pulled her away from the wall then and twisted her arms behind her back. She could feel the heat of his body and the mingled smell of cigarettes and aftershave

The teenager shivered as he moved his hands up to hold her by the elbows. She a little gasping noise, half fright, half anticipation as he pressed her elbows together making her breasts strain against the shirt. Cindy’s nervous trembling increased as the woman, presumably the one he’d called Fatima on the phone, gently undid the buttons of her shirt one by one.

The Arab woman eased the shirt off the blonde teenager’s shoulders. The colonel released his hold to swiftly disentangle her arms from the loose fabric allowing it to fall unheeded to the painted concrete. Cindy had, as usual not bothered with a bra and the loss of her last-but-one item of clothing left her slim young body almost naked and perfectly displayed for their shared enjoyment.

The colonel adjusted his grip on her elbows and pressed her arms together even harder forcing her shoulders back so the firm globes of her breasts were thrust out even more The pink tips of her nipples lifted, pointing upwards as though the teenager was offering them for the woman’s attention. Odd, the colonel thought, she looks even younger and more deliciously vulnerable wearing just that tiny white thong that if she was completely naked.

The teenager’s lightly tanned skin was flawless, apart from the angry red weals barring the pale curves of her bottom and the marks on each arm where the guards had held her. Cindy shivered and stared at the floor; her fingers twisting and clenching while hot, burning colour rose across her chest and into her cheeks. The woman studied her for a few moments, enjoying the sight of the pretty young blonde being held ready and helpless for her. The out-thrust breasts jiggled gently as the girl shivered in fear...

Fatima Sufiz held a supposedly administrative position in the Security Service but she had shared in the colonel’s sadistic pleasures for many years. He liked to watch, to organise and control; she preferred a more direct role. In matters of interrogation and torture they made a highly effective partnership that senior members of the regime found it useful to encourage.

Not only that but their interrogations of young, pretty women and girls, like the teenage American they were playing with at the moment, provided a very specialist and private kind of obscene entertainment for some of the most influential and powerful people. She knew that this session was just the colonel’s way of relaxing...the real fun would come a bit later when they got her downstairs together with that Arab bitch.

Beneath the tears and the terror she noted the signs of the girl’s sexual arousal; the way the coral pink teats jutting upwards so stiffly from those taut young breasts, the flush of red across her chest and up into her cheeks...and the tell-tale translucent patch of showing across the bulging vee of those panties. Fatima moved a little closer and, still without speaking, lifted her hands and scratched the swollen pink tips with her fingernails, very gently.

The teasing contact started at the edge of the wide aureoles, the scarlet nails circling the outer rim...round and round...then moving in and in until...Cindy Williams moaned and squirmed as Fatima’s fingers finally touched her hard, upturned nipples. Her eyes opened wide and she stared down at herself... feeling the pleasure as a stranger’s expert fingers toyed with her. Satisfied with the teenager’s initial reaction to the slow, deliberate pleasuring, Fatima changed to a gentle milking action, forefingers and thumbs working the two peaks to aching stiffness. Cindy clenched her fists even harder, trembling with delight and fear.

‘P-please...w-what are you g-g-going to d-do to m-m-me…?’

Both the woman and the colonel laughed softly, his hands pressing into her upper arms, pulling her back to hold her still.  ‘Fuck you of course… I’m sure you’ll enjoy it,’ the woman said, squeezing and rolling the girl’s teats. ‘Perhaps I’ll see how many times I can make you cum before you start screaming for me to stop... five, six… maybe more; you look fit enough.’ The eighteen year olds’ mouth was slack, partly open; her lips wet with her growing excitement, the colour in her cheeks and the hurried breathing signalling her arousal. Then Cindy brought her head up and stared at her tormentor, for the first time she looked hard into the woman’s dark eyes. She shuddered as she saw the enjoyment in them and the hot, pitiless cruelty.

She made a little sound of disappointment as Fatima stopped caressing her breasts and picked up the vibrator she taken from Cindy’s possessions. The angry buzzing filled the room. ‘…As for your little plastic man…’ she touched the blunt tip to Cindy’s breasts, drawing circles that carefully avoided the stiff peaks. ‘How do you like him to pleasure you? Here…?‘ She guided the buzzing tip over the wide pink aureoles grazing each nipple with the occasional fleeting touch.

‘Oh, oh yes, yes...pleeeese…’

‘So nice and stiff…’ the woman touched and twisted the vibrating head against the jutting tips; forcing Cindy to wriggle in delight as the ripples of sensation brought her on. ‘Or do you like to let it tickle your other lips too?’ The vibrator moved downwards, each touch making the young girl’s stomach muscles shiver and ripple with contractions. Cindy caught her breath, edging her feet apart as Fatima began to stroke the head over the fabric of her tiny thong… tantalising the girl as she avoided any touch on the pouting wet labia still cupped by the wet, white pouch.

The colonel moved one shoe between the girl’s feet using quick, commanding taps against her ankles to make her shuffle even wider astride. He pulled down on her arms, bending her back to encourage her to arch her pelvis...offering her cunt to her Arab seducer.

Cindy’s out-thrust hips jerked hard as the buzzing tip finally traced along the wet bulge of fabric, pushing it up into Cindy’s slit so she moaned and twisted as she tried to fuck the humming rod. Minutes past, the only sounds being the increasingly rapid pant of Cindy’s breathing and the rising and falling insect whine of the vibrator moving up and down the girl’s slit.

Long experience told the woman that the teenager was nearly there, writhing and jerking on the very brink of cumming. Fatima shared a glance with the colonel and lifted her hand to twist the vibrator deeper into the girl’s cunt, using her other hand to twist and pinch the girl’s hard, aching nipples. ‘That’s it isn’t it... you’re cumming, Cindy, aren’t you? Come on, cum for me now little one. Oh yes, that’s it, yes, come on, yes...yes…’

‘Whooo, whooo...huh...huh...huh...Oh yes...yes YES! YESSSSS!!’

The chant went on and on as Cindy rode madly on the blunt point of the vibrator. The woman whispered obscenities in her ear, intent on every sound and movement as she worked the girl expertly to the first of the orgasms she would be forced to endure at her hands in the next few hours.

Suddenly, Cindy bucked forwards, almost breaking free of the colonel’s control, her hips thrusting and twitching madly as she tried to force her buzzing tormentor even harder into her cunt. The wet, clinging fabric provided an extra stimulation as it was rubbed and scraped against her labia by the woman’s expert masturbation. Fatima smiled in cruel satisfaction as the girl’s words and sudden jerking spasms told their own familiar tale  

‘I’m there, yes, yes, I’m there, I’m there I’m THEEERRRREEEE!’

After a few more moments Fatima moved the point of the vibrator, sliding it across the girl’s outer lips and over the sensitive creases at the top of each thigh. Quite deliberately she let the girl rest, allowing the nerves centres to recover a little from that first release. There was no thought of pity or kindness in her action...it was just that she knew all too well that the respite would only make her twice as tender and sensitive when she began masturbating her all over again.

Cindy’s breathing was slowly returning to near normal when Fatima used one finger to hook the girl’s now sodden panties aside so she could slide the vibrator between the engorged, slippery lips of her cunt. Cindy shuddered, gasped and stared down at her body as Fatima used the blunt point to part the inner folds, searching very delicately for that one special pla...

‘NAAAAAHHH! Oh God...please...please...haaaaah!’

Cindy squealed and bucked uncontrollably, an unmistakable signal to Fatima that the point was nuzzling the girl’s clitoris. Now it was a matter of listening to the familiar cries and watching those involuntary jerking and bucking thrusts; circling the little stem now jutting clear of its hood to bring the eighteen year old back to the brink for a second time.

For Cindy it was pure, overwhelming pleasure as the woman teased the exposed nerve centre so unbearably that within five minutes she was gasping, crying and cumming again, even harder this time. Fatima’s other arm gripped the girl’s waist, fighting the wild frenzy of her orgasm and helping the colonel to hold her immobilised so she could keep the tormenting point burrowing away just inside the girl’s slit.

She kept theblonde teenager writhing and squealing in ecstasy for another five minutes before sliding the vibrator free and allowing Cindy to slump back against the colonel; her body gleaming with sweat and her chest heaving as though she’d just completed a flat-out sprint.

Still breathless and drained from being forced to cum three times in a few minutes, Cindy made no resistance as Fatima stripped off her sodden thong before Colonel Karif pushed her forwards to the end of the bench. ‘Lie down, along the top,’ he ordered letting her arms go. Fatima took her hands and pulled her down making her bend forwards, thighs straddling the end of the bench. The cleft of her buttocks spread apart so the wet, pink folds of her cunt were exposed as the woman pushed her down until she was lying flat her breasts swinging free on each sideof the narrow top.

‘Hands down, hold the legs...you’re lucky that the colonel wants to take you before we go downstairs’ Fatima murmured, her fingers stroking the back of Cindy’s head.

‘No...No I wo...yaaarrrh!’ Realising what the woman meant, Cindy started to protest and tried to sit up, arching back and twisting her head to the side. She caught a glimpse of Colonel Karif’s slim, and now naked, figure as he moved towards her stroking his long, brown cock to full erection. That was the moment the woman’ fingers dug into the muscles and nerves at the base of the teenager’s skull. There was a muffled ‘thunk’ as Cindy’s cheek hit the wooden top of the bench and Fatima’s teeth nipped at her ear lobe.

‘Stay there or you’ll get worse than a caning,’ her voice was a cruel, sibilant whisper and Cindy whimpered as she felt the woman’s other hand gripping the dangling tip of her right breast. The nails dug into the pink circle, ‘do you understand...?’ Cindy tried to say yes; yes she did, but it became a stifled scream as Fatima’s fingers tightened as she twisted the girl’s nipple viciously.

‘You can take her now, Colonel, she won’t give you any more trouble...’ Cindy heard the words then screamed again as the colonel prised her bottom cheeks apart, his strong fingers scraping and clawing at those raw, raised weals. There was a moment when Cindy almost welcomed the thought of being fucked by anybody...until she felt the head of his cock against the tight, wrinkled opening of her anus.

‘Oh God...no...no I don’t like that...please...no...no...NAAAH-AAAH!’

She bucked and arched, trying to rise as the woman held her down with the double grip on her neck and her nipple. The words suddenly dissolved into a scream of pure agony as Colonel Karif forced the head of his penis through the muscle ring into the tight, virgin warmth of the eighteen year olds’ rectum. ‘Oh please...no, please...d-d-don...aaah...p-p-please...nuh-nuh... no more pleas...NAAAAAH!’

Once again the pleading words ended with a scream of pain and despair. The colonel smiled across the girl’s back; sharing the wonderful sexual moment with his favoured companion. The pause had been deliberate, for the colonel the pleasure was doubled by the words and wild noises each girl made as he buggered them for the first time; like a drug, that was the extra stimulus he craved.

First the entry...stretching that tight little ring wider and wider until they thought they were being split in two. Waiting for them to adjust, to begin to think it was all over, then the long, slow push, making them panic as they felt the size and length of a man’s hard cock sliding deep into their bowels. Colonel Karif smiled and slowly pulled back until just the glans was held inside. He exhaled in deep satisfaction; this one was good...like a warm, oiled gloved massaging his cock.

He thrust deep inside her again bringing yet another scream of pain and despair. There would be more noises in a moment...those different, changing noises as he began to fuck her properly...especially when Fatima reached underneath and started to play with the girl’s clit again.

Fatima was crouched in front of the teenager now, looking into her pain wracked face, smiling each time the colonel’s cock drove deep into her rectum and the teenager’s eyes popped wide with the stretching pain as that long, hard shaft reamed her out. ‘Shhh, there...feel him inside...now clench hard, grip him tight...make him cum inside you...’

Her hands were playing with both of the girl’s breasts as she spoke, tweaking and rolling her nipples while waiting for another kind of heat to build up as Cindy began to feel the sexual stimulation of the thick, hard penis rubbing against the sensitive membranes inside her rectum and the other tormenting friction as the coarse hairs of his groin scrubbed and scratched across the weals left by the caning

‘Noooooo...p-pleeeese...aaaah-aah...p-p-p-pleeee...ooooh.oh God! Please it’s making me...aaah.aaaaah...huh...huh...huh...puh...puh...Oh God...oh fucking hell...aah...ha-aah...HAAAH!’

‘That’s better, Cindy...can you feel it inside...is it making you hot?’ Cindy’s fingers gripped the front legs, knuckles white with pressure and nodded frantically. ‘Here let me help you...’

‘OH FUCK...GAAARRRH!’ Cindy squealed, a mixture of pain and pleasure as Fatima moved to her side and brought one hand up between the girl’s legs. A single finger stroked along the wet slit...then the Arab woman used her nail, vibrating the sharp edge against the already sensitized and swollen bulb of the blonde girl’s clitoris. Cindy heaved madly, crying out as the pain turned to a different kind of desire; she pushed her sore buttocks out, trying to meet the colonel’s thrusts desperate for the feeling of even more of that hard cock sliding deep inside her bottom.

Colonel Karif grunted in pleasure as the teenager squirmed and wriggled wildly under their combined assault. Whatever mixture of pain and pleasure she might have been feeling was of no interest, all that mattered was those delicious muscular contractions that were squeezing the colonel’s penis with each new wailing convulsion of her young body. His thrusts got harder and stronger as Fatima managed to get the girl’s clit between forefinger and thumb and began to fondle and masturbate the little exposed stem directly.

The girl’s cries and movement became more frantic as the woman frigged her unmercifully. The colonel slammed into her buttocks harder and harder as he felt himself cumming. No point in trying to hold back, the tight, spastically clenching muscles of her anus provided too much stimulation. He allowed himself a few harsh gasps and grunts, hands clawing at the girl’s hips then he arched back in a series of hard, pounding jerks as he spurted deep inside her rectum. For a few moments longer he remained still, holding the taut, arched pose while relishing the firm, milking action of her young, powerful internal muscles as they squeezed the last fluid from his now-softening cock.

He stood up and wiped himself with Cindy’s discarded shirt. Fatima got to her feet and dragged Cindy up as well. The teenager was gulping and panting for breath, her face flushed and tearstained. Colonel Karif ignored them both as he dressed quickly and efficiently ‘I’m going to have a cigarette. You have twenty minutes, Fatima then I want you downstairs...’

The cell door had barely closed behind him when the woman’s finger’s closed on the girl’s throat. ‘Get down, on the floor...on your back.’ She pushed Cindy so she stumbled and fell back on the painted concrete. ‘Lie down cunt...time to say thank you to Fatima.’ When Cindy obediently lay back, she lifted her black skirt and stood over her, straddling the girl’s shoulders.

She wore nothing beneath and Cindy stared up at the woman’s shaved and swollen cunt lips nestling between her strong, brown legs. From below she could see the oily wetness, the glistening, sticky beads along the rim of her slit and the whitish cream smeared along the dark pink inner folds   

Before she could say anything Fatima squatted down, one hand pinning the girl’s head to the floor by the hair while she parted her labia with the other. ‘Now, show me what kind of tongue an American girl has...’ and pulled Cindy’s head up. The Arab woman sighed with pleasure as she felt Cindy’s tongue beginning to lap the inner folds. The sigh became a moan of excitement as she moved from a squat to kneeling astride the girl’s face. Leaning forwards and supporting herself by holding the wooden bench she pressed down to increase the contact.

Cindy Williamswas barely able to breathe at all as the woman began to ride her face. The girl’s cheeks became wet and slippery as Fatima pressed the warm, wet folds of her cunt against her victim’s lips and that busy, wriggling tongue. Cindy’s mouth and nose filled with the sharp, acrid tang and taste of the woman’s secretions.

But Cindy Williams loved fucking and sucking...and eating older womanwas a favourite pastime.  So the blonde teenager licked and sucked harder, searching out the places that she knew would gave the most intense sensation. Fatima smiled and pressed down as she felt the girl’s tongue moving in her hole like a little wriggling cock.

Fatima’s pleasure moans grew louder when the girl’s hands moved under the thick material of her skirt and her fingertips began to caress the soft warm valley between her buttocks.  She spread her knees and bent over even more to open herself, welcoming the touch as Cindy’s fingertips found the puckered rosette.  

Cindy lapped the soft, inner folds, working along the sodden slit until she was able to lick the thick, jutting stub of Fatima’s clit. She drew it in between her pursed lips, sucking it like a little teat so Fatima rose and fell, shivering in excitement. Knowing what the woman wanted Cindy started strumming the swollen bulb of her clit with her tongue just as one finger slid deep into her anus. Fatima rocked to and from, hands clenching on the wood of the bench, murmuring to herself in Arabic.

Aaaa-aah, yes-yesss...this one was good, very good...perhaps she could make her cum twice...after all, the Colonel had allowed her twenty minutes...

Fatima’s excitement and pleasure was even more intense because she knew what they would do to the teenager in the interrogation room downstairs. Just the thought of what was still to come was enough to send her over the edge. She shuddered, her body jerking and jolting against the girl’s face with each spasm of her orgasm.

With the first mad frenzy over the Arab woman continued to rock slowly on her squirming human saddle, enjoying the sensations as the girl wriggled and fought for breath in the wet, gripping vice of her thighs. After two or three minutes with her own lusts sated for the moment, she got up, stretched and looked down at the American girl lying on the concrete.

Cindy’s chest heaved and her breath came in deep gasps as she tried to calm down from the effort and near-suffocation of the last few minutes. Her pretty face was blotched red and covered in a sticky glaze of saliva and Fatima’s juices. Despite the discomforts, Cindy Williams was smiling in smug satisfaction at having made the woman cum so quickly.

In her selfish pleasure she had forgotten Carol’s plight and Colonel Kerif’s threats. All the eighteen year old was interested in at that moment was sex. She arched her back to make sure the Arab woman noticed the firm fullness of her breasts…and how stiff and hard the tips were. She stifled a gasp of pain when she moved incautiously and the rough concrete scraped the raw weals on her bottom, but continued to try and entice the Arab woman to give her an expert tongue-fucking in return.

She deliberately let her knees splay apart so the woman could see how wet and swollen the parted lips of her cunt were. She slid one finger along the pink, slippery groove then, while keeping her eyes fixed on the Arab woman’s face, placed the finger against her lips and slowly licked it clean of the creamy mixture of semen and cunt juices.

Fatima smiled then reached down, cupped one offered breast and rolled the hard peak between finger and thumb. Cindy arched her back a bit more, pressing against the older woman’s fingers in obvious invitation. But Fatima had dealt with too many young girls to be seduced by Cindy’s games. She held the nipple in a pincer grip and slowly applied pressure. Her smile became wider as she watched the girl’s expression change, first from pleasure to concern, and then to panting discomfort. She caught the sound of footsteps in the corridor and twisted the tender lozenge of flesh even harder until the girl’s mouth opened in a hissing wordless protest.

‘Time to go downstairs,’ she said, grinning down at the girl and casually flicking the nubbin away as she let go and straightened up. Cindy Williams clutched her hands to the bruised and swollen peak of her breast and stared back at the woman. Then she too heard the men approaching and her face went pale with fear as she realised what Fatima had meant. 

‘No, no I’m not going…no I’m not. You stinking perverts…you fucking bastards I’m an American citizen and you can’t fuckin’ touch me…I’m leaving this shit hole NOW!’ She screamed, scrambling to her feet and running to the door. Still swearing and screaming at Fatima she struggled with the heavy metal catch. She was in such a state that she didn’t even think to wonder why the Arab woman just stood there and made no attempt to stop her. The door swung open and Cindy took one glance back. ‘You can fuck off too…BITC…GAAAAAGH!’

She stormed out of the room only for her tantrum to be cut off abruptly with a single high-pitched squeal as two hard-muscled arms clamped round her body and lifted her off her feet. The grinning guard, who’d been standing in the corridor, ignored her wild struggles completely as he carried her backwards into the room she’d just left.

The second guard, also grinning broadly, followed him in. Cindy’s expression was one of shock and terror because she knew they were the two who had held her down so enthusiastically for her caning upstairs earlier. With casual ease the guard dropped the wriggling teenager, spun her round and then grabbed her again pressing her back against his own body. This time she screamed in real pain as his big hands clutched the meat of each breast then squeezed hard so tanned skin bulged out between each black finger.

‘SPLACK!’         ‘SPLUCK!’        ‘SPLACK!’ 

There was no warning. The second guard did what he’d done to Carol upstairs. He smacked his open right hand across her cheeks in three rapid, vicious slaps right…left…right, each stinging impact jerking her head first one way then the other. Then, before she could even draw breath to scream again, he clamped his left hand around her throat, squeezing the soft flesh and forcing her head back. Cindy was imprisoned between the two men, unable to even breathe.

Fatima watched, a sadistic smile on her lips and a hot excitement in her eyes as the seconds passed and the girl’s eyes bulged out and her face turned red then purple, her arms and legs flailing uselessly all the while as she fought for air. She laughed as the girl’s struggles became increasingly desperate. Finally, with Cindy on the brink of blacking out, she ordered the guards to release her.

The men let go, both of them joining in Fatima’s amusement when Cindy flopped to the bare concrete, whooping and coughing. Fatima took one step towards her and kicked the gasping teenager hard on the back of the thigh. Cindy managed a hoarse cry and instinctively rolled away so she was lying almost on her front.

Fatima stepped forwards, put her foot on Cindy’s neck and pressed down to pin her to the concrete. She flicked her fingers at the bigger of the two men. ‘Jonas, tie her arms, above the elbows…make sure it’s tight… Kaki, you sit on her, after all we don’t want more mistakes, do we?’ There were quick nods of agreement, neither of them wanted to do anything to upset Colonel Karif, especially after what had happened with the other bitch. Jonas smiled happily and pulled a length of cord out of his pocket. 

Cindy screamed again at the pain from her caned bottom when Kaki, the other guard, knelt heavily astride her thighs. He grabbed both wrists and twisted her arms up behind her so Jonas could loop the cord round her arms. The big man moved the cord up so it was above her elbow joints before pulling the ends tight

‘Gaaaah! Haah, p-please that’s t-too tight… nooo…p-p-plea…yaaaah!’ Cindy shrieked as he leaned back, muscles tensing as he pulled the cords tighter and tighter. The cord burned and pinched her skin as her elbows were forced together behind her.  He brought another shriek of pain and protest when he fed the two ends through her arms to secure the tie and tighten the rope still further. Two quick knots completed the job and he got to his feet with a smile of satisfaction.

Kaki got off her legs and all three watched with interest while Cindy Williams flopped around helplessly on the concrete floor. Her forearms and hands were waving and twisting madly in a futile attempt to reach the knots, loosen the rope… or do anything at all to free her arms or even do something as simple as getting to her feet. He waited for a moment or two then swiftly pulled the black cotton bag over the girl’s head and pulled the drawstring tight.   

The thick cloth muffled her cries a little by but Fatima knew that heat and lack of air would soon quieten the struggling teenager. She used one foot to roll Cindy towards the wall. She and the men all laughed aloud when Cindy swung her leg wildly then wailed in pain when her toes smashed against stone. ‘Take her away…and keep the hood on and your hands off her. Colonel Karif will be most displeased if his orders are not obeyed.’ Nodding, they hauled the girl to her feet, and dragged her away between them. 

The building that now served as the headquarters the Internal Security force had been built in the days of colonial rule. But it had been a fort and slaving post for centuries. Built to provide a base for military patrols as well as acting as a stronghold during the incessant skirmishes and local wars, it had been useful during the long and bloody series of civil wars that followed independence. Now, despite long years of neglect, the stone walls and iron-banded gates still ensured that what went on inside was both secure and private, a situation much to the liking of the present, brutal regime.

Not that the local people had any desire at all to pry into matters of security. Despite being in the middle of the town they knew better than show anything as dangerous as curiosity or even passing interest about what happened inside those walls. The prudent man crossed the road, or chose another route, rather than be seen too near the entrance.

The cells and interrogation rooms were half below ground level. Like the rest of the barracks, they had been built to last; hard, painted plaster over thick brick and stone. Once creamy white, the little paint that which remained was grubby and peeling, speckled with damp near the floors and deepening to a sooty ochre in patches above each of the oil lamps that hung from the old brackets; lamps that were still in regular use to supplement the erratic electricity supply.

There had been changes over the years of course. The stinking toilet holes in each cell had been filled in and replaced with equally stinking metal buckets, while the original rammed earth floors were now covered with roughly tamped concrete that ingrained filth had turned almost the same colour as the original dirt.

But the high and tiny grilled openings were still the only means of providing natural light and ventilation, so each cell was stiflingly hot, the air sticky and foul with the odours of captivity, fear and suffering.

It was uncomfortable for any prisoner but Carol Hasani was worse off than the others. Vicious and angry after her attempted assault on the colonel, the two guards had deliberately added their own spiteful revenge. They had carried out the colonel’s order but had left her tied and hooded. They had also made sure she fell over hard when they’d pushed her inside the cell and slammed the door behind her.

Winded and bruised Carol spent the first long minute recovering her senses. Then, very slowly and awkwardly she managed to explore the extent of the small cell by wriggling around on the floor. All she discovered after quarter of an hour of painful struggle that it was completely bare; no bed, no chair, not even the usual stinking bucket. The floor was rough, scraping and scratching her bare skin with each movement. In places there were what felt like traces of straw and loose dirt with some gravel mixed with it.  After that, Carol gave up and tried to rest and recover just a little, conserving her strength for what was to come.

Inside the stinking cotton hood it was suffocating and the effort of moving about was exhausting. But, using the angle of the walls in the corner she was finally able to sit up with her back against the wall. Her head buzzed with the strain and she was forced to breathe in hurried, shallow gasps to drag what little air there was into her lungs. She couldn’t take really deep breaths as that just clamped the cloth across nose and mouth making it impossible to breathe at all.

In her struggles her long skirt had come undone and was now crumpled round her thighs exposing her slim legs and her black bikini briefs. The guards had made sure her shirt was ripped open; gaping open for anyone the firm globes of her breasts cradled by a matching half-cup bra. She knew that the guards would enjoy the sight of her semi-nudity but there was nothing she could do and anyway, clothes were the least of her worries just now.

The stale oppressive heat made every action a discomfort. Dark, wet patches marked the underarms of her shirt and under the hood her hair was matted and plastered against her head with sweat. Her face was flushed and shiny wet from the endless trickles of perspiration; a salty wetness that made her eyes itch and sting abominably.

But she was beyond caring about such little things. Alone in her private hell Carol endured the pain and discomfort as best she could...her real torture came from the mental agony of imagining what they would do to make her talk... worse, imagining what they would do to Cindy as a way of breaking her resistance. Carol bit her lip. She could not give in, not for at least until the following day. Someone would know, would pass the message on; pass the word that she had been taken. Her duty was clear… to give the others time to get away, to disappear. She cried; for her own fear… and for the need for stubborn silence that would condemn poor Cindy

The metallic clatter of keys signalled the end of the torment of waiting. There was laughter from the two guards at the sight of the black bag turning this way and that. They crouched on either side, faces full of lust and excitement at the sight of Carol’s exposed legs and the way her open shirt let them see the full globes of her breasts barely contained by the flimsy fabric of her bra.

‘No... No don’t touch me...get off you bastards...leave me alone...nooo! Gaaah...no...shit...aaaah...no...n-n-noooo...b-bastards!’

Thick, grubby fingers probed and squeezed her breasts like ripe fruit, deliberately pinching her nipples to make her jerk and twist at each touch. Each useless attempt to evade their hands brought more laughs and comments.

‘Fuck off you bastards...leave me alone!’

‘Better mind your manners when the colonel talks to you, fucking stuck-up bitch...’

One finger wormed between her thighs, pushing her panties up into her slit and making her buck madly as she fought to avoid the crude intrusion. Another hand was clamped across her face and she struggled even harder as the cloth was forced against her nose and mouth. There was a moment of carelessness and she felt a finger slip between her teeth in the folds of cloth. Instantly, she bit down...hard.

‘Gaaaarrrh! Shit! Man...look what the fucking stupid cunt’s done now... she fucking bit me!’

All Carol heard was coarse, unsympathetic laughter from the other guard. ‘Tol’ you to be careful, man. Stop whining...ain’t drawn blood...c’mon get her on her feet... p’raps next time I’ll let her chew your cock off too...’ He taunted his friend who was still cursing and waving his fingers in the air. But when they grabbed her arms, both dug their fingers into her flesh, pinching the soft flesh of her underarms deliberately to make her sob and twist uselessly in their iron grasp.

Once upright they gave her no time to recover. There was more coarse laughter as her ripped skirt slipped down her legs to pool at her feet and immediately their fingers were busy under her shirt pinching and fondling the exposed cheeks.  She was still off balance as they forced her out of the cell between them, hurrying her along while continuing to argue about the supposed damage her teeth had done to the younger one’s little finger.

In the blackness, the squeak of hinges and a change in the sound of the guard’s voices was the only clue they’d reached another, larger room. There were other noises too, shuffling feet, breathing...as well as the scent of more bodies. Carol struggled harder but the grip on her bound arms was unbreakable. Finally she was positioned for that unseen audience and, despite the sweat drenching her body, she was suddenly aware of heat on her naked legs and the skin of her stomach and a brightness seeping though the cloth.

All the men in the big underground room had watched intently as the woman was dragged into the glare of the spotlights. Even though she was still partly covered by the oversize man’s shirt they could see she had a good figure and, from the difficultly the guards were having, she was fit too. There were grins and chuckles of amusement at the sight of the black cloth bag turning and nodding like some obscene toy.

In the darkness behind the lights, Colonel Karif shared in the anticipation with the half dozen discreetly invited guests. All were men, senior members of the regime or their friends. Men with the right kind of influence who, like the colonel, found an extra sexual pleasure in watching interrogation sessions; especially those sessions where the victims were young, attractive and female.

Satisfied that he and his guests were effectively invisible, Colonel Karif looked up. ‘Take it off,’ he ordered.

One of the guards fumbled with the black cloth before getting enough of a grip to drag the whole hood off. Carol Hasani’s face was soaking wet and shiny with little beads of moisture dotted across her forehead. The bag had plastered her short, black hair flat across her scalp and left her cheeks burning hot with a hectic flush of colour against her olive skin.

She shook her head, droplets of sweat flicking off in all directions as she screwed up her face trying to accommodate to the sudden, painfully bright lights glaring into her dark-adapted eyes. Colonel Karif watched, knowing from long experience that the woman would not be able to see anything properly for a few minutes.

‘Miss Hasani, do you know why you’re here?’ She lifted her head and peered round through slitted eyes, trying to see beyond the glare. She pressed her lips together and said nothing. He waited, ‘Well, we would like an answer?’

‘Don’t k-know,’ she stopped, swallowing, trying to make her voice work properly despite the tight dryness of her terror. ‘I...I mean we...we were just trying to catch a flight to the United States...The airport was closed but we were told there would be no problem with going from Kimsala...’ She was trying not to look at the two posts jutting from the concrete floor in the middle of the lighted area. Posts that had shoe-like cuffs at the base and that were joined at the top by a polished wooden bar.

‘We’re not interested in your travel arrangements.’ He noted the way her eyes kept flicking towards the bar and the stained concrete between the posts and also saw the sudden tightening of her lips and the tension of her muscles but waited for a few moments. ‘Tell me about the things we are interested in…your organisation, for example. The names of the others, the meeting places…things like that…I’m particularly interested in names, Miss Hasani. You know, the people you talk to…who your contacts are…those names.’ He smiled unpleasantly, ‘and where we can find them of course.’

Carol Hasani stared into the burning lights in the direction of the quiet mocking voice of her interrogator. ‘There are no names; there is no organisation as you put it. I’m just a lawyer trying to keep out of the way of your private war so you can fuck off, Karif and take the tame gorillas with you…I’ve told you the truth. We were trying to cross the border and that’s all. I don’t know about any fucking network. Get it through your thick head there are no names…no contacts to tell you about.’

‘Do you know, that’s exactly what I thought you’d say…’ He waited for a few seconds. ‘I notice that you keep saying ‘we’ and of course you were not alone when we arrested you. Since you have nothing useful to tell me I think that it’s time we includes your companion in this discussi…’

He didn’t have a chance to finish. Carol yelled out and tried to throw herself bodily at him but this time the guards were expecting trouble and they held her securely as she screamed towards the shadowed face of her tormentor. ‘NOOOOO! You fucking shit…leave Cindy out of this…she’s an American… a teenager! She’s got nothing to do with this. Let her go! I’m the one you want so…LEAVE HER ALONE!’

‘You make my point for me, Miss Hasani.’ He nodded to the guards. ‘Perhaps watching your young companion’s discomfort will change your mind.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Find Miss Hasani a seat... make sure she can see the bar.’ The re was a clatter in the darkness and a man carried another of the metal frame chairs similar to the ones upstairs into the lighted area. Carol Hasani stared at it in horror. Unlike those chairs this one was missing the canvas seat and backrest so it was just a bare tubular metal frame…

She didn’t have much time to do anything. The two guards grabbed her by the arms and dragged her across to the chair. Her arms were wrenched up in the air bowing her forwards then she was forced to sit down astride the frame. Herarms were pushed down over the chair’s back rail. Another nylon tie between her bound wrists and round the rail at the back of the seat arched her back. Each ankle in turn was grabbed, wrenched upwards and then secured to the same cross rail at the back of the seat frame with more of the unbreakable nylon cuffs.

With her wrists and ankles pinioned the men took their time positioning the two straps, leather this time, one over each leg high up then under the side bar of the seat frame holding her thighs splayed wide apart so she had no way of protecting her cunt from her interrogators.

Colonel Karif looked down at Carol Hasani then reached down and cupped her left breast. He smiled and watched her wrenching at her bindings then bent and moved his hand lower until he could slide his fingers inside the waistband of her panties. There was laughter from the others in the room as she struggled uselessly to stop his fingers probing between the lips of her cunt. They all saw her head whipping from side to side in denial, teeth clenched as he pushed first one then two fingers up inside her vagina.

He stood up and held up his hand, the fingers shiny and slick with her wetness. ‘Well, well…not only subversive but a slut too it seems, Miss Hasani. I think the rest of us would like to see what a real terrorist slut looks like in the flesh.’ He nodded to one of the guards who grinned and produced a pocket-knife. Carol Hasani heard the ‘click’ and caught the flash of the blade in the man’s hand.

‘No, no, no, Hah…haaaah-aaaaah!’ Protest turned to a gasp of dismay then relief as the blade merely sliced through her sleeve. Three more cuts and he was able to tear the tattered ruins of the shirt away from her body. The knife made short work of the thin shoulder straps of her bra then he walked round in front of her. In front of her, Carol could hear movements as the others in the room leaned closer. Grinning happily the man slid the blade under the front of her bra where the two cups joined.

‘Snuck!’

There was an appreciative murmur of excitement as the cups fell away and the man pulled the ruins of her bra away and threw them to the floor. With her arms behind her and her back arched her breasts were pushed up and out towards the unseen figures behind the lights. Carol always kept herself fit and there were murmurs and crude whispered comments as they saw how full and proud her breasts were, capped by wide, almost black aureoles and thick, stubby nipples.

There were more obscene comments and one or two chuckles of laughter when the guard sliced through the two sides of her bikini briefs and then deliberately sawed the ruined panties to and fro between Carol’s thighs. The fabric cut up between the thick rubbery lips making her jerk and twist, jaws clenched and breathing hard through her nose as she tried not to cry out as the thin, twisted rope of cloth was pulled and scraped hard across her clitoris and the soft, wet inner folds of her cunt.

‘That will do.’ Colonel Karif said, waving the guard to one side. He walked over and stood behind the chair. He twisted his finger in her hair and forced her head back until she was staring into the harsh lights. ‘Now we come to business, Miss Hasani.’ He lit a cigarette then leaned close to her left ear. ‘Hard or easy?’

‘Fuck yourself…and your gang of perver…. Ha-AAAAH!’

Colonel Karif stopped her outburst by touching the tip of his cigarette to the rim of her left aureole…holding it position as she arched back with a single gasped scream of agony. ‘I’ll take that as your answer.’ He took another pull on his cigarette and moved round until he could cup the full globe in his left hand. ‘Watch carefully.’ He touched the red tip to the edge of her aureole again a little further round this time, waited for the hiss and stifled cry then moved his fingers and let the glowing tip caress another point round the circle.

Carol writhed in the chair her lips clamped together, breath whistling in her nostrils as she fought to ride the building agony as he continued making a circle of little burns around the rim of the wider circle capping her breast.

‘FUCK YOOOOOU, KARIF!’ she screamed as he straightened up. ‘Is that it you pervert? I‘ve got nothing to say… understand…NOTHING!’

Colonel Karif just laughed, ‘Oh dear, this is nothing, Miss Hasani, just a little taster for my colleague’s entertainment…’ He moved round and cupped her other breast. ‘This one will hurt more…because you know what’s coming.’ He took another long drag, tapped the ash off and touched the glowing tip to the rim of her right aureole. This time there was an audible half-stifled gasp from Carol and the metal frame scraped on the floor as she rocked from side to side.

The gasps got louder and more desperate as the Colonel continued with his slow, obscene decoration. Five minutes later there were another twelve raw spots around the aureole of her right breast to match the circle of agony already burned around the peak of her left breast. Carol Hasani was shivering and mumbling to herself, head lolling with drooling strings of saliva hanging from her mouth and tears of pain running down her cheeks.

He straightened up and took another long drag on his cigarette, then nodded and smiled down at the pinioned woman. ‘All right, Miss Hasani, you’ve made your point that you can take a little discomfort.’ He grabbed a handful of hair and wrenched her head backwards. ‘You look at me when I’m talking to you, you fucking terrorist bitch!’

Carol lifted her head and stared back at him through bloodshot eyes. ‘Tol’ you… don’t know what you’re talking about.’

He reached over and squeezed her left breast, digging his fingernails into the little circular blisters ringing her aureole.

‘GAAAAAAAAAAGH!’

‘Stupid, stupid woman,’ he looked over to where the guards waited. ‘Tell Omar and Fatima I need them here…then get Miss Hasani’s companion…we’ll see if she can change the bitch’s mind for us.’

‘No…no-no you can’t…no….NO! She’s nothing to do with this…YOU CAN’T! Leave Cindy out of this...she’s only eighteen! NOOO!’

‘…But for fuck’s sake gag this bitch first,’ Colonel Karif snapped at them impatiently. One of the guards rummaged among a tangle of straps and other restraints and hurried back to where the Colonel was waiting. ‘Well, don’t look at me you fucking idiot…get on with it and shut her up!’ keeping her head bent back by the hair the Colonel used his free hand to hit Carol Hasani in the stomach.  Her mouth opened as she gasped in pain and shock and the guard forced the rubber ball between her teeth. With the gag in place it was the work of seconds to secure the nylon strap running through the middle of the red, rubber ball behind her head.

The colonel let go and she jerked forwards, shaking her head from side to side, jaw muscles working as she tried to bite down on and dislodge the thick rubber ball filling her mouth and stretching her lips wide. Her screams of protest were reduced to a series of muffled, wet noises, her breath hissing and bubbling through her nose as she tried to breath. The noises redoubled as she caught sight of the wheeled table one of the guards had moved nearer to the wooden posts. She couldn’t see properly because of the lights but she though she could see wires and some kind of control box on it…She moaned into the gag and struggled harder, knowing exactly what kind of torture was being prepared for both Cindy and herself.

Everyone turned and looked as the two guards dragged the hooded figure of Cindy Williams into the lighted area. Although she was still anonymous in the black hood there were appreciative murmurs and more crude and obscene comments as the men watching from the darkness got their first glimpse of the naked eighteen year old. With her arms tied above the elbow her shoulders were braced back giving the men an excellent view of a pair of fine firm young breasts topped with dark pink aureoles and prominent upward-pointing nipples that were still swollen and hard from the fucking she’d received upstairs.

There were more crude comments and some very unsympathetic laughter when the guards turned her round and the men were able to see the red, angry bars lacing her bottom and upper thighs from her caning. Colonel Karif allowed the ribaldry to continue for a couple of minutes knowing that both women could hear the obscene comments and suggestions about their bodies and what should be done to them.

‘Take it off.’ One of the two guards holding Cindy fiddled with the drawstring then dragged the cotton bag off her head and threw it to one side before grabbing her arm again. The laughter got louder as Cindy blinked and stared round blearily. Her faced was bright red and blotchy with the heat, her short, blonde hair soaked with sweat, the strands pasted against her scalp and forehead while little truckles of sweat ran down her cheeks to drip onto the upper slopes of her breasts. There were more comments when the watchers saw those trickles of sweat forming drops that were flicked from the tips of her breasts as she shivered and shook in the grip of the two guards.

By shaking her head and blinking hard Cindy’s vision finally cleared enough to allow her to see the menacing figure of Colonel Karif standing on the edge of the lighted area. Then she looked round and her eyes went wide with shock and horror as she saw the naked woman tied down on the chair frame. For a few moments she didn’t realise it was Carol because the woman’s face was distorted by something red filling her mouth and holding her jaws wide apart.

Carol stared back at her making horrible bubbling noises. Cindy suddenly understood she was gagged so she couldn’t say anything. Then her mouth went wide with disbelief as she took a longer look at her adopted Aunt. Not just that she was strapped to the chair frame with her thighs spread apart so Cindy could see every detail of her cunt, but they had done something to her breasts… the thick black nipples were hard and erect but there were marks round the rim of…

She screamed in horror when se realised that the marks were burns…a series of little burns that made circles round the peaks of both breasts. She lunged forwards and the two guards had to struggle to stop her getting close to where Colonel Karif stood waiting with a cruel half smile on his face. She opened her mouth to shout out something when he held up one finger.

‘Think, Miss Williams, think very carefully before you say anything at all,’ he smiled as she clamped her lips together. ‘That’s better, I’m sure that you don’t want another session with Omar and his cane…do you?’

His smile widened at her frantic head shaking. At least the lesson has been learned, he thought, but it will be amusing to see her reaction when she realises she is going to be caned again anyway. He looked at the tanned young teenager and nodded with satisfaction, this habit of women removing all their body hair was most useful… it meant that attaching electrodes or using an electric wire on all the best places in the girl’s cunt was so much easier.

‘All right, get her ready.’

The guards pushed Cindy up against the uprights. ‘Put your feet in those leather cups at the base of the posts, Miss Williams.’ One look at the Colonel and the grinning faces of the guards convinced Cindy to do what she was told. She put her left foot into the cuff then edged her legs astride until she could do the same for the right foot. One man held her while the other crouched down and buckled the straps tightly around her ankle. He straightened up and moved round to the other side where it only took seconds for him to buckle the other shoe-like cuff.

With her feet secured the man took his time strapping each thigh to the upright on either side. ‘There now, that’s better.’ The men let her go and Cindy twisted and turned, bending forwards and backwards trying to free herself. From the darkness behind the lights there were flashes of white teeth and more laughter as they watched the blonde eighteen year olds’ antics. With her arms still tied behind her back at the elbows and her legs strapped apart every movement of her upper body made her breasts bounce and swing most delightfully for them.

Colonel Karif let the show continue for a couple of minutes before snapping his fingers to get the attention of both women. He pointed to the side of the room. ‘Miss Hasani, your young friend has already met Omar and Fatima,’ Cindy’s eyes went wide and she shook her head violently as she saw the two of them standing in the shadows. Carol stared too, knowing from the girl’s reaction, that they were the ones who were responsible for the cruel caning marks across her thighs and bottom and now, the colonel was going to let them torture Cindy in front of her. She squeezed her eyes shut and looked away, refusing to react to the Colonel’s blackmail.

‘Miss Hasani…please look directly at your friend…’ Carol kept her eyes shut.

‘Miss Hasani, you will do as I say or else…’

Carol didn’t reply, closed her eyes even more tightly then deliberately turned her head away. Cindy screamed…’No no…no you can’t…I’ve been good…no don’t let him do that NOOOOOOOOOO!’ That was enough, Carol’s eyes snapped open and she whipped her head round to stare in horror at the girl spread-legged against the bar. The squat, menacing figure of the Nubian, Omar, was standing to one side flexing a length of a thin, whippy cane between his hands. Mucus and saliva spurted and dribbled from round the red ball gag as Carol nodded violently to show she was obeying the Colonel’s order.

Colonel Karif simply smiled and shook his head. ‘As Miss Williams knows, disobedience is always punished severely. You did not do as I asked…so she will get another ten strokes…and it’s all your fault.’ He nodded and Omar grinned happily.

‘Thwiick!’

There was no disbelief or delay in Cindy William’s reaction this time, unlike that first stroke upstairs. She arched backwards, fingers scrabbling vainly to soothe the place where the cane cut in across two of the weals striping her bottom cheeks from the earlier punishment.

‘GAAAAAARRRGH!’

‘Thwiick!    ‘Thwiick!’    ‘Thwiick!’    ‘Thwiick!’    ‘Thwiick!’  

‘NAAAARGH...NO DON’T! PLEEEEESE! GAAAAAAAAARRRRGH! NO…NO….NOOOOOOOOOO!’ YAAAAAAAH!’

With each stroke Cindy screamed and writhed insanely. The men watching from the dimness noted with pleasure just how skilfully Omar was using the cane to make sure he crossed all the earlier weals at least once. They could understand why he was taking his time…after all it was important the make the subject as to feel the full agony of every stroke individually. As Cindy was not yet bent over, she could still thresh about with her upper body and was able to flex and clench her buttocks as much as she wanted. The big Nubian watched the play of her muscles, waiting for that slight relaxation that allowed him to cut another stroke in across her already scalding bottom cheeks.

‘A little lower with the last four, Omar…right in the crease if you can.’ The big Nubian smiled and nodded at his master.

‘Swock!’

‘GERRRRAAAAARGH!’

This time the cane cut deep into the tender crease right at the top of her thighs and Cindy screamed even more wildly.

‘Swock!’   ‘Swock!’   ‘Swock!’   ‘SWOCKKK!’

The last three strokes laid more burning bars of pain over the old. The watchers could see that each fresh weal now decorated with little beads of blood where the line crossed another. The teenager bent, turned and twisted with each stroke, forearms and fingers flexing uselessly as she screamed into the arched stone ceiling of the torture chamber.  Behind the lights there were happy, gleaming white smiles in the dimness and more obscene comments as Cindy Williams jerked and howled, pink, pointed tits bouncing wildly, as she rode the scalding agony of a second caning in less that two hours for their private delight and pleasure.

Colonel Karif gave a satisfied nod as Omar grinned happily through rotten teeth and wiped the mixture of blood and sweat from the cane. ‘Take a break Omar, there’s a packet of American cigarettes on the table by the door…help yourself.’ He waited until Omar had left then looked down at the two women. Carol Hasani was sitting rigid staring at the girl with a fixed expression. She was shivering with shock and horror, tears running down her cheeks as she looked helplessly at the figure strapped to the wooden posts in front of her.

Cindy Williams was looking at the floor, intent on nothing but her own agony. Her chest was heaving, mouth wide open as she sobbed and snuffled with the burning throbbing pain of that second beating. It was only the fact that her legs were strapped to the uprights that was keeping her on her feet.  Her head lolled on her chest but her upper body was still erect. Colonel Karif knew why exactly...if she bent forwards she stretched the muscles and flesh of her buttocks and thighs taut…and that only made things hurt even more than they did already.

He shook his head very slightly. The American teenager was not going to like it at all when his men doubled her over the bar with her arms in the air behind her…mind you, he thought with a grin, once Fatima started using the electrodes on her tits and her cunt and anus she’ll forget about a little discomfort like a caning.

‘Right, Miss Hasani, now we’ve got that out of the way let’s see what you have to tell me.’ More bubbling noises came from behind the gag. ‘Oh, sorry, I forgot you had that thing in.’ He flicked his fingers at one of the guards. ‘Take it off.’ The guard started to undo the strap holding the gag in place. Colonel Karif lifted Carol’s chin with one finger. ‘Don’t make any stupid noises,’ he nodded in the direction of Cindy, ‘otherwise she gets another ten, understand?’

The guard pulled the ball out of Carol’s mouth with a wet sucking sound. For a little while she couldn’t say anything at all, her efforts concentrated on swallowing, licking her lips and working her jaw muscles to try and ease the cramps and pain a little. But she was able to nod her agreement. Colonel Karif smiled and looked towards Cindy Williams. ‘A pity not to use it while it’s nice and wet… but I want you to hear her properly when we start working on her.’

‘Now, Miss Hasani, back to business. I am investigating matters that involved the security of the state. I believe that you are involved with those matters and that you have information I need. I intend to use any means,’ he paused and looked between the two women, ‘any means at all to get the information I need. This is your last chance to tell me what I need to know so, once again, who else is involved with your movement? What are their names and where can the be found?’

‘For fuck’s sake, Karif…’ this time Carol was pleading desperately, trying against all the odds to make this grinning sadist understand. I’ve already told you upstairs and down here, there is no ‘movement’ and I certainly don’t know of any members…how can I, when it doesn’t exist?’ Colonel Karif smiled and nodded. He raised a finger and there was a clatter as the Arab woman pushed the little wheeled table forward next to where Cindy was strapped to the posts.

He watched calmly as Fatima uncoiled a black cable and gave the plug end to one of the guards who took it off into the darkness behind Carol’s chair. She couldn’t see what he was doing but there was a ‘click’ and a squat metal box on the lower shelf of the little table started humming. A little red light glowed on one side.

‘For God’s sake, Karif…please…PLEASE! You must believe me…if I did know anything I’d tell you…you’ve got to believe me…I DON”T KNOW ANYTHING!’

‘But there’s the problem…I don’t believe you, Miss Hasani so I’m afraid this is what comes next…but not for you, not just yet. You can watch and see what interesting things we can to you young friend with just a wire or two and a supply of electricity.’ Carol Hasani had heard the stories about how the secret police thugs routinely used electricity to torture suspects she had never really understood exactly what that meant. Now, watching the Arab woman attaching wires to a small control box she realised the full horror of what they were about to do to Cindy and probably her too.

Not just a few shocks but a slow deliberate application of electricity to the most sensitive places on their bodies…each shock carefully controlled for maximum agonising effect. And all the torturers had to do was press a button, no effort or exertion needed…and the electrodes and transformer never got tired.

She could see that although Cindy could see the things on the little table she had no idea of what was coming. Tears leaked from Carol Hasani’s eyes. What she said was almost true…she’d heard stories and rumours but that was all. The real horror for her was she really didn’t have the kind of information that Karif and his thugs wanted.

Colonel Karif looked at the way the teenager was strapped to the uprights and frowned. ‘We’ll need her cunt more open than that. Use a couple of pegs then redo the straps.’ The two guards hurried to do what the colonel wanted. Cindy’s knees were unstrapped then she was forced to squat down with her legs outside the uprights until they could insert thick wooden pegs behind her knees into holes in the side of each upright. Then the leather straps were repositioned just above each knee and buckled tight to clamp her thighs hard against the posts. Cindy was now locked into a slight squat with her knees splayed wide apart so the whole of her cunt and anus was open and displayed. The round bar pressed into her belly level with her hips.

‘Do you want me to start with her nipples, Sir?’

Fatima reached up and rolled the hard, pink tip of the girl’s left breast between forefinger and thumb. Colonel Karif nodded.  Fatima smirked, ‘of course, Colonel you’re right of course…she will know what’s coming when we start tickling her cunt…besides it will give the other cow something to watch.’ She used her forefinger and thumb to hit the jutting tips with sharp, vicious flicks that made Cindy buck and cry with pain. ‘Nice and hard now, Colonel, shall I clip her up?

Colonel Karif smiled and held up one finger, ‘Just a moment. You two…I want her arms up in the air.’ A thin rope was flicked over a ceiling beam in front of the posts and one end was secured between Cindy’s arms and round the tie cinching them together. The other end was hauled taut by strong, enthusiastic arms. Cindy screamed as her arms were lifted up and forwards in an agonising strappado position. The only thing she could do was to bend forwards over the bar until her upper body was almost horizontal with the concrete floor with her arms pointed vertically to the ceiling.

‘Garrrrrgh…no-no-no-NOOOOOOH…CAAAAAARGH! Hah…HAH…HA-AAH!’

‘Better…Now Miss Williams, because your friend won’t help me I need you to convince her to talk. You see those little brass clips on the ends of the wires that Fatima is holding?’ Cindy craned her head round to stare at the brass crocodile clips swinging and clicking together on the ends of the thin red wires. ‘She’s going to put those clips on your nipples and then, unless Miss Hasani changes her mind, you’re going to find out what it’s like to get an electric shock in your tits.’

Cindy watched as Fatima reached under her body and rolled the dangling peak of her right breast between forefinger and thumb. ‘Oh fuck no…NO…NO…NO! You’ve got to stop her…no….no you can’t…I’ve done nothing wrong…’ She bent her head still babbling and watching with total horror as the Arab woman pressed a clip open and put the toothed jaws on either side of the stem of her right nipple. ‘Please…please don’t. No, p-p-pleas…NAAAAAARRRGH!’ The clip snapped shut and Fatima gently pressed the jaws together so the triangular teeth bit into the sensitive flesh.

Ignoring the babbling stream of pleas and protests completely, Fatima tugged the wire to see that the clip was quite secure they moved round to attach the second clip to Cindy’s left nipple. Again, once it was in place, she pressed the jaws together then tugged on the wire to check all was secure before going back to the little wheeled table. She picked up a small black box with a knob and a single red button and waited.

Colonel Karif took a moment to study the woman and the girl. The woman tied to the chair was still wrenching and pulling at her bonds. He could see that there were smears of blood at both wrists and ankles where she’d rubbed the flesh raw. He made a mental note that they needed to keep an eye on those plastic ties as the interrogation went on. Interesting that her tits were still rock hard, he thought, perhaps she’s getting a thrill out of watching them working on the girl…might be interesting to use the girl’s vibrator on the bitch’s cunt… see if I can bring her off. He nodded to himself as he watched the preparations. Perhaps I’ll wait until we use the bare wire right up inside in the girl’s anus or on her clit…those are the two places that get the best noises usually.

From the stirrings and furtive movements behind the lights the Colonel knew that his guests were enjoying the sight of the blonde teenager being prepared for torture. Her slim, tanned body was posed delightfully for them to see every detail. The heat of the chamber and the agony and physical effort of her caning meant that her body was slick and polished with perspiration. The cruel strappado and the bar meant that her breasts dangled freely below her torso. The brass clips attached to each nipple winked and gleamed as they swung and joggled with each breath. From the tip of each breast a thin, red wire hung down, looping away to the control box that was connected in turn to the humming transformer.

‘Still nothing to tell me, Miss Hasani?’ He waited a few moments then looked at Fatima. ‘Start at three.’ The Arab woman grinned and crouched down so she could watch Cindy’s face. She held the controller in her right hand so the girl could see her thumb resting on the button.

She reached up and stroked a strand of blonde hair away from the girl’s eyes gently with her other hand. ‘Watch the button, girlie,’ and her thumb pushed down. There was a soft buzzing and Cindy Williams instantly arched back in her bonds, every muscle taut her whole body shivering so hard that sweat droplets flicked off in a fine spray. Her mouth opened into a wide, screaming O of agony.

‘NNNNNAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGH!’

Her breasts shook like jelly making the brass clips dance and jerk wildly but the little teeth kept their grip on her nipples as the current fizzed and surged through them. Ten seconds…fifteen…twenty…then Fatima’s thumb relaxed and the teenager slumped down, head hanging and her chest heaving as though she’d just run a sprint race. Colonel Karif moved to stand behind Carol Hasani’s Chair. He ran his hands down over her upper body and brought a stifled cry of pain from her as he cupped her breasts so his thumbs could flick across the bullet hard tips.

‘Again,’ he said quietly and the teenage girl in front of them bowed back in a arc of pain as another scream of agony echoed round the room. Carol screamed too as the colonel gripped her nipples and squeezed them between forefingers and thumbs. He waited until Fatima released the button and Cindy collapsed forwards, upper body hanging from her upraised arms head lolling down towards the floor. Moments later here was the sound of liquid trickling onto concrete and a spreading pool between the girl’s legs as the pain made her lose control. He relaxed his grip but used his nails to scratch and scrape the now swollen tips. He bent and said quietly into Carol’s ear. ‘Women tell me it feels like they are on fire…unbearable...but of course young Cindy has no choice has she?’ He paused, ‘The dial on that little toy goes up to ten and what she is feeling is just setting three…’ 

Carol twisted trying to prevent any more tormenting stimulation of her already sore nipples but Colonel Karif had no difficulty in keeping his fingernails working on those hard jutting stubs. Concentrating on her own pain, she didn’t see his nod to the Arab woman but saw and heard Cindy’s agony as the third jolt of current fizzed through her breasts. ‘Told you, you bas-bastard…don’t know any names…Stop it STOP IT! You’re killing her!’

‘Oh no, no Miss Hasani…we are experts, that’s the last thing we want to do.’

Five more times Fatima pressed the button sending the current surging through Cindy’s nipples. Finally she hung from the rope barely conscious while in the chair her adopted aunt sobbed and raged helplessly as the torture went on and on. Colonel Karif flicked his fingers, ‘that’s enough for the moment. We’ll take a break. Unclip her and let her arms down.’

He turned to look down at Carol. ‘Miss Hasani…you have fifteen minutes while my colleagues and I take a little refreshment to talk with your young friend and explain why you are unable to prevent her discomfort.’ He paused and smiled, ‘after that we will continue…I expect you can guess which part of Miss Williams body I’ll ask them to concentrate on next…remember to watch carefully…it will be your turn soon.’

There was a shuffling of feet and scrape of chairs, the door thumped shut and Cindy and Carol were left alone under the hot lights. Cindy looked up, eyes half closed, her face blotched and tearstained and her hair matted and tangled wit sweat. ‘OH FUCK! This is all your fault you fucking stupid cow!’

‘But Cindy…’

‘DON’T FUCKING CINDY ME!’ She screamed. ‘You could’ve stopped this upstairs…”I don’t know any names” Course you fucking do…All those people who came to the house...those fucking silly meetings and phone calls…just tell him…you do it or I will!’

‘CINDY! SHUT THE FUCK UP!’ Carol screamed at her.

‘Why, why should I…it’s you got me into this fucking shit! Tell them about that Jenny M’tanga woman and the one at the university…what’s her name…Susan, yeah that stuck up bitch, Susan Banda…tell Karif about them.’

‘OH GOD! Just shut up can’t you! Don’t you understand…this place is wired, Cindy…they’re watching and listening to everything…so just keep your mouth shut!

Cindy stared back at Carol horrified to understand what her aunt had been trying to tell her. ‘You mean…they’ll know what we say?’

‘Why else do you think the left us alone? Karif’s not going to stop now…besides,’ she paused and looked at the erotic sight of the teenager still strapped in that obscene half squat against the uprights. ‘There are others watching too and they’re getting their kicks from watching you.’

Cindy burst into tears again. ‘You mean it’s not over…they’re going to hurt me some more?’

Carol couldn’t say anything or even look at Cindy…there was a long, awful pause then she nodded very slowly, ‘Yes…first you…then he’s going to have even more fun letting you watch what they do to me. They’re probably going to fuck us both too, they usually do I’ve heard.’

‘NOOOOO…its not fair…they can’t…they CAN’T! I haven’t done anything…please stop them…you must…PLEEEESE, Carol…PLEEEESE!’

‘Sorry, Cindy, I’m sorry that you ever got involved in all this…but there’s nothing either of us can do now…I’ll tell him what I can but I was telling him the truth…there really isn’t an organisation…the only contacts I’ve had have been because of my work as a lawyer.’ Carol Hasani raised her voice, speaking clearly for the microphones and hoping that they’d given Karif enough to go on when he listened to the recordings. Now Cindy had spilled the beans she’d have to confirm those two names and a couple of others…people who would have had enough warning and time to get out…but that was all she could do. They’d already got Judith, Karif had told her that. There was nothing else to say and she slumped forward trying to gather her strength…in front of her, Cindy Williams rocked to and fro and sobbed.

Ten minutes later the two of them heard the sound of the door opening and movement in the darkness behind the chair and frame. Colonel Karif, relaxed, smiling and smoking another cigarette, walked to stand between them. His teeth gleamed as he looked from one to another. He leaned closer and Cindy flinched away as far as she could, straining at the straps holding her, as he studied the tips of her breasts. He blew on her left nipple and his smile widened as the teenager shivered and whimpered as the stream of air played across the taut, swollen peak. He touched her with one fingertip.

‘G-g-g-gaaaaah..n-n-no..d-d-don’t…p-pleeeese!’

‘So sensitive…in an hour they’ll be so tight you’ll think they’re going to pop. So, would you like me to ask Fatima or Abdul to play with them again?

‘Oh GOD!...No…please…please no…please!’

‘I suppose it really depends on your friend here…well Miss Hasani, changed your mind? Or should we continue making an example of your young friend?’

‘You’re a fucking sadist, Karif…I’ve told you there was no organisation! Yes, of course I met colleagues professionally…both in the office and at home sometimes…but it was just cases…but there was nothing political…nothing I swear.’

‘And who attended these so-called ‘business’ meetings?’

‘The names you want are Jenny M’tanga and Susan Banda and…sometimes there was someone else…Cherry Harding…’ She smiled bitterly, ‘but luckily you won’t be able to talk to her…’

‘…And why’s that?’

‘She’s out of your reach, you bastard…she’s got diplomatic immunity. She co-ordinates some of the private aid and assistance programs with local organisations for the US government. The others are lawyers and aid workers…just like me. We met to discuss cases and programs…nothing else. I’ve been here for five years... For fucks sake, Karif think about it! Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to meddle in politics or things like that…with people like you in charge?’

‘I see, you tell me two names young Cindy already revealed and an American spy I can’t touch…not much is it, Miss Hasani?’ He turned and leaned close to her face, his voice quiet and vicious. ‘You know something, you fucking busybody lawyer. I think you’re fucking me about, Miss Hasani…so tell me the rest or we start working on the girl again.’

‘Please…please, the others were all neighbours…the usual things, drinks, parties…there were NO meetings…there isn’t an organisation…please, you’ve got to believe us…PLEASE!’

There was a muffled buzzing, Colonel Karif straightened up and reached into his pocket. ‘Untie the girl’s arms…let her have a couple of minutes while take this call.’ He turned away holding the phone to one ear, ‘Yes, Karif here…’ Behind him Cindy cried out as the cord was cut away from above her elbows and she clutched her arms across her breasts, soothing the pain in her nipples at the same time as she tried to ride the throbbing agony of returning circulation.

Neither of the women noticed Colonel Karif suddenly stand motionless, listening intently. A few moments later he snapped the phone shut and turned round with a grim expression. ‘You say you’ve told me everything,’ he very quietly, leaning over Carol, lips close to her right ear. ‘Then please tell me why a ‘simple lawyer working with aid agencies and local organisations’ needs to keep not just the emergency contact number of the US Embassy but also the private and unlisted numbers of three people who we know are CIA officers…please tell me that, Miss Hasani?’

‘It a lie, a fucking lie that you’re making up…I don’t know these people…you’re trying to frame me!’

Colonel Karif straightened up and chuckled. ‘Oh no, no, you see we also have your phone records. Amazingly you’ve managed to call two of those numbers we are supposed to have invented at least half a dozen times in the last month.’

She screamed at him again, frantic that he should believe her story. ‘I don’t give a damn what you’ve been told, Karif. There’s no plot…no organisation…don’t know what you people have told you but it’s lies…all lies.’

Colonel Karif nodded. ‘Yes, yes I agree...but they are your lies, Miss Hasani.’ He snapped his fingers at the guards, the cold smile replaced by a cruel gleam of anticipation in his eyes. ‘Cuff the girl and get her ready, this bitch still has things to tell us.’

Cindy had not really been paying attention to the exchange going on beside her. She was still rocking to and fro with her arms cradling her swollen, throbbing tips of her breasts. She squealed in shock and terror when one of the guards grabbed her wrists and jerked her arms out in front of her. Before she could struggle at all the other one quickly bound them together with a number of turns of thin rope before passing the rope knotting the between her wrists to form a figure of eight cuff. Bending down, he fed the trailing end of the rope through a ring set into the floor a yard or so in front of the bars.

The guard who’d held her wrists put one hand on the back of her neck and forced her forwards over the bar. The other one grinned and leaned back, pulling the rope through the ring and dragging her arms forwards and down. In less than a minute Cindy William was bent right forward over the bar with her arms at full stretch and her hands almost touching the concrete floor. With her thighs strapped wide apart, bending her over the bar left her anus and her cunt fully exposed.

The men sitting behind the lights could see every detail of the swollen rosette of her anus, still leaking wetly from Colonel Karif’s earlier fucking, as well as the full split bulge of her cunt. The outer lips were red and swollen, marked by the strokes of the cane that had caught them so agonisingly minutes before. The dark pink inner folds protruded slightly, also swollen by the effect of the caning, so that the vee at the top of her slit gaped open allowing the watchers to see the taut paler bulb of her clitoris, erect and engorged, peeping from its protective hood of flesh.

Cindy sobbed and cried realising the awful position she was in, but she was helpless, doubled over with her head hanging down between her outstretched arms. Her abused breasts also swayed and jiggled unsupported, their hard, swollen tips pointing like bulbous spikes at the concrete floor. She squealed as Colonel Karif ran his fingers over the ridged weals lacing one taut, upturned buttock.

‘Beautiful…a pleasure to have such an attractive subject…don’t you agree, Miss Hasani?’ One finger traced along the smooth furrow between her bottom cheeks. ‘Now, co-operate with me…or you can watch Fatima using our little electrical toy on Miss Williams again.’ His finger touched the pouting rosette of the girl’s anus. ‘Here naturally,’ the finger moved down tracing along one rim of the girl’s cunt slit. ‘Here too and, of course…’ His fingertip drew a single cry and involuntary jerk from Cindy as the nail grazed across the exposed tip of her clitoris, ‘…here most especially. Unless you have something else to tell me?’

‘You sadistic bastard, Karif…I’ve told you the truth. There’s nothing to tell…’

‘Then I’m afraid that you have condemned your young friend to a session in hell. Fatima, let’s start with the tickler…’ There was another wild scream of fear and outrage from the doubled figure over the bar when Cindy realised what he’d said accompanied by a outburst of screaming curses from Carol Hasani throwing herself to and fro against the straps holding her down to the chair. The Arab woman smiled and changed the wires connected to the control box. This time one of the wires was connected to a polished metal rod with a bulbous end. Fatima stroked it up and down the girl’s cunt slit until the bulbous head was wet and shiny with the girl’s juices.

There were sounds of movement in the dimness as the watchers craned forwards to see every moment of the action as the Arab woman pushed the end of the electrode against the girl’s anus. Cindy howled and tried to arch up as the head stretched her anal ring but it was no use. Fatima paused for a moment, listening to Cindy’s anguish and then, very slowly, twisted the metal bulb from side to side as she pressed it further in.

Suddenly, Cindy bucked and squealed again as the bulb disappeared and the watchers saw her anus clench on the thinner, insulated shaft of the rod.  They could hear her panting rapidly as the electrode was slid up inside her body. It had a flange and plastic insulating grip at the other end and Fatima continued the slow impalement until the flange was tight against Cindy’s body, the polished bulb deep in her rectum. The wire from the handle trailed down between her legs and across to the control box.

There was no electrode on the other wire. She used a knife to strip the last half inch of insulation away from the free end The wire was thicker, with an inner core made up of a number of copper strands that she carefully fanned out until the bared end looked like a little copper brush. She gave the wire to Colonel Karif to hold while she put on a pair of thick latex gloves. ‘Thank you, Colonel,’ she said taking the wire again. ‘Shall I start just along the rim as usual?’

Colonel Karif nodded and leaned over Carol’s bound figure. ‘Start at three again.’ He bent down and teased one finger along the rim of Carol’s cunt slit. ‘Watch and listen carefully, Miss Hasani. Fatima’s very good at this, she’s just going to brush that wire along all those sensitive places in Miss Williams delightfully exposed cunt. Just the slightest touch but she will respond most vigorously, as you’ll hear. Most enjoyable to watch but quite agonising for her and of course we’ll just go on and on…until you decide to change your mind.’

He straightened up suddenly, walked over to another table and came back grinning and holding something half-hidden in his hand. ‘I forgot, did you know young Cindy had one of these in her bag?’ He showed her the small, powerful vibrator. ‘Just to keep you focused, as you Americans might say…I’ll see how you like this while you watch Fatima playing with Cindy…it makes a nice contrast…pleasure and pain…and then both will be screaming for us to stop!’ He chuckled and pressed the switch and the hornet buzzing of the vibrator made Carol twist and squirm even more.

‘You…you….SHIT! No…no…no you can’t you c-c-can’t,’ she arched up, lips clenched as he moved the blunt point of the vibe along the exposed rim of her cunt slit. ‘No-NO-NOOOO! I-I-w-won’t…you can’t…I won’t… I won’t! You can’t make me do thiiiis!’

Anything else she wanted to say was blotted out by Cindy’s wild scream of agony. Fatima had been watching the Colonel carefully. As soon as she saw him touch the vibrator to the rim of the woman’s cunt lips she had turned the setting to 3, pressed the button on the controller and then very delicately began to stroke the brush-like strands of copper wire along the wet, swollen outer lips of the teenager’s labia. Although Cindy’s scream drowned out the soft fizzing noises of the electric current, the watchers saw the tiny blue-white flickers as the current arced between the copper strands and the girl’s flesh. Intent on her work and listening to each change in the teenager’s agony, Fatima moved the wire strands along the outer lips carefully avoiding any contact with her clitoris… for the moment.

Colonel Karif moved further round to the side of the chair to make sure Carol Hasani could watch every moment of Cindy’s torture. While the girl surged and squealed with each touch of the wires, he used the vibrator on Carol Hasani’s cunt with almost gentle precision. He knew that she had no way of resisting the effect of the buzzing tormentor…sooner or later, whenever the Colonel decided, she would be forced to climax. Then, with her genitals so sensitive, it would be easy to make her cum again and again…each orgasm accompanied by the demented screams from the girl as Fatima continued to touch her exposed cunt with the copper electrode.

He started with the outer rim of her slit…following the edge down one side then gently along the other. When the screams became more intense he slipped the buzzing rod between the lips, working on the sensitive inner folds. Finally the blunt tip nuzzled at the root of her clitoris. She gasped and shuddered and tried to lift herself from the chair, hips bucking in her efforts to increase the stimulation.

Her head twisted and turned all the time, her eyes wide and fixed on Cindy’s splayed thighs and that single red wire with the bare copper end moving delicately across the wet, pink folds. Her own arousal and her anguish at Cindy’s awful plight made her sob and mutter, her words a tangled stream of protest and growing sexual excitement.

‘No-no-no-no…bastards….aaaaah! No NO! Oh fuuuuck…stop…no STOPPPP!

Don’t do that…no NO! NO! PLEEEESE! AH-AH-AH-AAAAAAH…NOOOO!’

She’s near…try the clit now, Fatima.’

Fatima let the button go and there was a single shuddering gasp from Cindy as the agony stopped. She put the control box down and swiftly twisted the bare copper strands into a single pointed tip. ‘Same setting, Sir?’

Colonel Karif, concentrating on the noises Carol was making as the vibrator brought her towards her orgasm didn’t look up. ‘Sir!’ He jerked his head round.

‘What is it…ah yes…yes, keep it the same…don’t want any accidental marks do we?’ He nodded and smiled as he saw how she’d shaped the red wire into a sharp copper point. Knowing exactly where that copper point was going to be applied, he used the fingers of his left hand to spread Carol’s cunt lips wide apart and moved the point of the vibrator so it nuzzled and buzzed against the stem of her clitoris under the hood. Three things happened; Carol Hasani squealed and arched back against the straps holding her down, Fatima pressed the button on the controller and then…touched the copper point to the taut, exposed tip of Cindy William’s clitoris.

‘NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGH!’

The Arab woman took the wire away, waited for the scream to die down then touched the point to another spot on the little pearl-like nub. She lifted the wire, waited a moment then touched the girl’s clitoris again…and again…and again. Each time she paused she could hear the increasingly frantic chanting from the woman strapped down in the chair near her.

‘OH GOD…OH GOD! YESSSSSS…I DON’T…I DON’T…NOOOOOO! OH FUCK! OH FUCK! YESSSSS…T-T-T-T-THERRRRRRRRRRE! YESYESYES I’M THERE….YES…OH FUCK YESSSSS!’

For Carol Hasani there was no respite either. The vibrator brought her to a surging, bucking orgasm just as the copper point seared Cindy William’s clitoris for the tenth time.

Half a minute later and Carol Hasani’s cries were becoming desperate.

‘No, no, no…please…no…stop p-p-pleeeze. Oh Fuuuuuuk! I’m there…please NOOOOOOO!’

Colonel Kerif moved the point very gently, listening all the while so he could keep the buzzing stimulation on exactly the point where the cries were most intense. ‘Then tell me about the others, Carol, where doe the information come from…?’ The tip moved and Carol strained back, her whole body vibrating as a second forced orgasm surged through her. ‘Give poor Cindy a chance to rest…tell me.’ He raised his voice so Fatima could hear. ‘Otherwise she’ll use that wire somewhere else…’ The tip moved again, ‘can you imagine the pain when the electricity touches Cindy’s urethra, Carol…can you?’

‘NAAAAAAAH…please...please….NAAAAAARGH! Alright…alright…It’s his wife!

‘Whose wife? Fatima, just a touch on the girl’s urethra…now!’

Fatima grinned, parted the inner lips of Cindy’s cunt then very slowly wriggled the copper point into the little opening.

‘WAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!’

‘Enough!’ Colonel Karif looked up and stroked the vibrator against the exposed clit stem. ‘Now, Carol, does she use the wire there again…or will you tell me?’

‘Hah...haaaaa…p-p-p-please…it’s Kehinde…Kehinde Odinga…the Minister’s wife! PLEEEESE!’

For a moment there was almost complete silence as the Colonel switched off the vibrator and straightened up. He gripped Carol’s jaw in one hand and held her face turned toward his own. His voice was quiet but quivering with menace. ‘You’re telling me that you’re getting information for Jonas Odinga’s wife…our fucking Minister for Foreign Affairs?’

Carol Hasani nodded, ‘Yes…please, Cindy…please…’ The Colonel snapped his fingers and waved Fatima away. Over the bar Cindy Williams slumped into unconsciousness the red wire from the electrode in her rectum still protruding obscenely from between her buttocks.

Colonel Hasani smiled. ‘Fatima, you can take the other one out too…for the moment but give me the other probe.’

Cindy came round with a scream of pain as Fatima eased the bulbous electrode from her anus. The Arab woman went back to the little wheeled table and picked up a thin probe attached to a plastic handle. It looked like a knitting needle that had been curved in a gentle arc. Most of its length was sheathed in black plastic but the last quarter inch and rounded tip were bare, polished metal. Fatima handed the probe to Colonel Karif. He held it out so Carol Hasani could see every detail.

Now, you’re going to give me every little detail about Mrs Odinga…everything…and anyone else whose been whispering to you. If I even think you’re holding back on me we’ll put one of those crocodile clips on her clit then use this right up inside your young friend’s anus…she can’t stop it, however hard she tries…it’s too thin, besides, think how sore and stretched she is already.’

He smiled unpleasantly, One little lie and Fatima slides it in, turns the dial up a bit and just runs the tip up and down the walls of her rectum.’ He rotated the tip and Carol’s eyes followed every movement, ‘You won’t believe how much we can hurt her with this…and not a mark to be seen…well, not where anyone’s going to look anyway.’

Carol Hasani looked at the obscene probe in the Colonel’s hands and imagined how it would feel being slid up inside her own rectum. She shivered and began to talk.

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