THE TRAITOR
By V.P. Viddler
Physically they couldn't touch me; but psychologically they could do anything
they wanted. And psychologically I was an open book to them now. My personality,
my character, my needs, my lusts -- anything they could work on.
Waiting in my cell, I knew it was coming. Lust is always the weak spot. And if
you find a man's particular, individual, most deep-seated kind of lust, you've
got him. Or so they thought. It was my job to show that they were wrong.
I must not give in. Although it would be so easy. And bring me freedom. Wealth.
Security. And satisfaction of lust. But I would not be a traitor. I would not
divulge that so crucial bit of information, which my captors wanted so badly
that they would go to any lengths to attain it. I waited, knowing this test
would be the worst of all.
The girl who came into the room was, not surprisingly, exactly the kind of woman
I would have drawn on for my most intensely erotic fantasies. Young, not more
than twenty. Fairly tall, but not too much. Dark brown hair, long, straight,
supple as it hung down past her shoulders. A truly lovely face, delectable
features. Soft brown eyes. Smooth skin. A soft, full- lipped, slightly pouting
mouth. Wearing a thin blue sweater top, snug around her breasts, showing the
small button shapes of nipples poking out of the cloth. And a short black skirt.
If she wore any makeup at all, it was totally inconspicuous. A figure that was
amazingly sensuous, curvy, shapely -- without being vulgarly voluptuous. Her
breasts were upstanding, round, mouth- watering against that clinging top, but
not out of proportion to her body. And her legs, stockingless, were long, so
long and curvy below that skirt, supple, lissome, ripply calves, luscious,
gorgeous, breathtaking thighs.
A girl of my dreams.
Oh, they were good, all right.
But I hadn't seen anything yet. The girl stood just outside of my cell, giving
me an unobstructed view of her through the bars. "I am Jan," the girl said. A
soft but clear voice, with no hint of accent. An American? But how -- And then,
with a suddenness, a docility, and a submissive grace which took my breath away,
she sank down to her knees on the hard, cold floor.
I knew at that moment that they had found it all inside me. And were about to
use it. No matter who or what stood in the way. I had to put up a fight, and I
had to start now.
"Look," I said, "it's no good. I mean that. I'm not going to give them what they
want. That's all. I can't. I just can't. So don't bother to do anything. You're
awfully attractive, you're certainly tempting, but I can't. All right?"
The girl -- Jan -- didn't move. "Do you know what they will do to me if you
don't?" she said.
"No," I said. "And it doesn't matter. I can't do it, and that's it."
"Do you know what they will do to me?" Jan said again. "They will torture me.
They will torture me horribly, in all the ways they know. And they will not stop
until you tell them."
"Why?" I said. "Do they think that pity for you will make me talk? That's --"
"No," Jan said. "They think my pain will arouse you. That you will find my agony
so exciting that you will do anything to have me."
"Oh," I said. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"If you tell them, you will spare me that," Jan said. "You will probably save my
life. I will be most grateful. If you do that, you can have me anyway. Right
now."
"I'm sorry," I said. "It's a tempting offer, and I would certainly wish to avoid
any suffering you may be forced to undergo; but I can't do that. Nothing at all
will make me do that. Not pity for you, not lust for your body, and not arousal
at your pain. Nothing."
"Listen," Jan said. "Just listen to me. Please. Think of anything you'd like to
do to a woman. Anything. Think of everything you'd like a woman to do to you.
Things you've never done, things you could never ask a woman to do. Evil things.
Filthy things. Unthinkable things. Anything. I'll do it for you. I'll do it all.
Anything. Anything at all, anything you want. I swear it. I'll do things you can
only dream about. As much as you want. I don't care what it takes, I don't care
what I have to do. I'll do it. Please. I'm begging you. For my life, for my
sanity. If I have to submit to their torture, I can't do it. Please. Anything
you want. Anything. Please. For god's sweet sake, please."
"Jan," I said. "I can't say how sorry I am. But I can't help you. I can't and I
won't turn traitor. Not for anything."
Jan said nothing for a long time, but knelt there, swaying slightly, and, it
looked to me, trying to stay calm. I saw her swallow. At last she took a long,
quivering breath, and got slowly to her feet.
"In that case," Jan said, "I must prepare myself, in compliance with my orders."
And, slowly but deliberately, Jan began to take off her clothes. Facing me as
she did.
I almost cried out with arousal as Jan pulled that tight sweater off over her
head, baring her breasts. Naked above the waist, Jan stood and let me look my
full at those high, luscious, quivering, pink-nippled breasts.
Now Jan unbuttoned that short sexy skirt, unzipping it, and letting it fall
around her feet. Showing all of those legs, those fantastically enticing thighs.
Now Jan slowly took her panties off. And stood naked.
My throat was dry. That body. God, but I wanted it. But I said nothing. Now Jan
took off the watch on her wrist. And a pin from her hair. And a ring from her
finger. "I must take off everything," Jan said. "They want nothing on my body.
Nothing but my nakedness."
"You're beautiful," I couldn't help saying.
"Thank you," Jan said. Slowly, she turned for me, showing me her body from all
angles. "If you wish to change your mind," Jan said. "You still can. Please.
This is the last chance. I'll be good for you. I'll be so good. Anything.
Please. Oh god, please."
"I'm sorry," I said. I wanted to turn away from her, but I couldn't; I was too
fascinated by that body, and by what she was doing now.
I thought I saw tears, but, blinking them back, Jan moved slowly to a small
table on one side. And picked up what lay on it -- a glittering pair of metal
handcuffs. My throat caught. As Jan placed one of the cuffs around her left
wrist. And closed it. Tightly. I could see that the cuffs had padding on the
inside; but Jan closed it so tightly around that wrist, pressing it home until
she couldn't press any harder, that I was sure it was most painful. And now Jan
did the same thing with the other cuff, on her right wrist. The chain separating
the cuffs was about eight inches long.
Now, with wrists manacled, Jan took hold of a small wooden chair against one
wall, and pulled it out into the middle of the room. Looking up toward the
ceiling, she placed it most carefully in a particualr spot. Following her look,
I saw, strangely for the first time, a large metal hook affixed to the ceiling,
just above the chair now. My stomach did a sinking thing as the implication hit
me. I saw unmistakable fear on Jan's face now; but obviously nothing was
stronger than the fear of what would happen if she did not follow the orders
she'd been given. No matter how cruel or inhuman they might be.
Now, although shaking a bit with fright, Jan climbed up onto that chair,
standing for a moment on the seat, trying to work up her courage. But she must
do what she must do. Slowly, carefully raising her arms, Jan brought her
manacled wrists up toward the waiting hook. I couldn't believe this was actually
happening in front of me. Jan stretched her arms as high as she could; but the
chain of the cuffs would not quite go over the hook. Jan had to stand up on her
toes, trying to hold her balance while straining to reach up for that hook. My
loins throbbed at the sight of that tautly straining body, those legs flexing
and rippling, those breasts pulling up, tightening. And now the chain was over
the hook, and Jan was standing tall and taut, still straining on her toes,
half-hanging by her painfully manacled wrists.
But Jan was not finished. Drawing in her breath, and with a great, terrible
effort, she pulled herself up, clear of the chair; and now, with an awful,
inhuman, utterly despairing cry, Jan kicked out at that chair, knocking it over
and away; and now Jan could do nothing but hang from her wrists.
Which she did.
Hanging there. Agonizinglyh stretched. Arms straight, straining. Body taut.
Breasts high and tight. Legs dangling, moving slowly, occasionally reaching
reflexively but in vain for the floor two feet below her. Twisting slowly in the
air. Breathing harshly at first. Then panting. Then moaning. Head hanging back,
hair dangling down her back. Or dropping forward. Or occasionally erect, looking
at me. Accusingly? Pleadingly?
But I could do nothing for her now, even if I gave in, at least until somebody
came. My heart, my soul went out to her. But my loins, my lusts, gazed at that
wickedly stimulating sight. I didn't know how long she could last that way; that
body was stretched so taut; so obviously in agony; but what could she do?
Helpless, utterly helpless, Jan hung there. Twisting so slowly. So deliciously.
In front of me.
"Jan," I said at last, when I could speak. "How long -- how long must you stay
there?"
Jan's voice came out in panting breaths. "I -- don't know," Jan said. "Until
they come. And then -- still --"
"God," I said. "I -- I know you're in pain. I --"
"Oh god," Jan said. "You don't know. How it hurts. God, it hurts. I can't stand
it. I can't."
"I'm sure they'll come soon," I said.
"No," Jan said. "No. Not soon. They want me to stay this way. They want you to
watch me like this. It could be -- hours. Days."
"My god!" I said. "No."
"I'll faint soon," Jan said. "Dear god, let me faint soon. Oh Christ in heaven.
Oh Christ."
"I wish I could --" I said, but I stopped.
Jan's words came out as moans now. "If --" Jan said. "If you -- when they -- if
you told them --"
"No," I said.
"You could have me," Jan said. "Before they --"
"I can't," I said.
"That's what they thought," Jan said. "They'll torture me for you. That's what
will do it. They want you to watch as they do things to me. They want you to
hear me screaming. Until you want to do it to me too. If you tell them, they'll
let you torture me. Any way you want."
"I won't," I said.
"You will," Jan said. "You want me now. Don't you?"
"Yes," I said. "But --"
"When I'm screaming," Jan said. "When I'm twisting with pain and losing control
of my bowels and begging them to stop, promising to do anything for them if only
they'll stop, you'll want to do that to me too. You'll do anything for that.
You'll give it all to them, and then you'll torture me and make me scream for
you and you'll have my body, all of it, and I'll do anything you want. But it
will be too late. For me."
But I would not give in.
It was hours until they came. Hours of Jan moaning and crying and pleading with
God. And with me. And they came at last.
They didn't take Jan down. They left her there, as they whipped that body
viciously, whipping it all over. Slowly. Methodically. Sadistically. Whipping
Jan's back first, with Jan howling in agony and anguish, twisting and writhing
and kicking wildly, convulsing and squirming and thrashing under the merciless,
rhythmic, unceasing punishment of that whip. And screaming. Howling, yelling,
screeching, shrieking. And begging. As she had said she would. Promising,
frantically, all sorts of forbidden pleasures and dark delights, pleading with
piteous desperation. In vain, of course. And then the whip moved to Jan's legs.
Those kicking, thrashing thighs. And her buttocks. Striped with lash marks. All
over. And Jan's breasts. And I, watching it all. In pity. In horror. In
fascination. In lust.
It went on for hours. Literally hours. Whipping. Until night fell. And at last
they took Jan down. Still conscious. Still holding on somehow to sanity. "Until
tomorrow," they said. And they lashed Jan to the bars of my cell.
I could understand what they were thinking. Diabolically, they chained me to the
far wall, with a chain around my waist, giving me room to move, to lie down; but
not to reach the bars. Not to reach Jan. Who was spread out against those bars,
facing me, arms pulled up and splayed wide, legs spread, wrists and ankles bound
to the bars, toes on the floor. But spread and sagging. Tight against the bars.
That moaning, panting agony- filled naked girl. Whip marks only adding to that
body's arousing allure. Breasts bulging between the bars, thrusting toward me.
Spread out legs pressing against bars, soft hurting flesh bulging through. All
of her right in front of me. Panting loudly. Sobbing. Animal sounds in her
throat. Soft mouth wide, panting. Bosom rising, falling. All of her in pain.
And I couldn't touch her, couldn't get to her.
On the morrow they came back, and used cigarettes on Jan's body. Holding her
down on the floor, spread-eagling her, one of them pinning each wrist and ankle.
Burning her breasts. Burning her thighs. Burning her stomach. Turning her over.
Burning her back, burning her buttocks, burning, burning, burning. And Jan
screaming. Howling.
"You want her?" they said to me. "You want to do this to her? You can, you know.
You can do anything to her. Just --"
"Go to hell," I said, but god, I wanted to do it all to her.
That night they tied me down to my bunk, tied my hands, my legs, and buckled a
metal contraption around my crotch, so I couldn't use my cock at all, and they
tied Jan down on top of me. Lying on my body. Facing me. Naked. All of that body
pressing into me. Against me. Moving convulsively, spasming as Jan sobbed and
gasped. Through the night. It was maddening. Jan's breasts squirming against my
body. Jan's legs. I wanted to kiss her, but Jan wouldn't.
Next day they made Jan do things. Everything. And Jan did it. To avoid further
torture. Jan did anything they told her. They had her fuck them all, again and
again, in all the ways they could think of. All of them separately and in twos,
threes, fours. They had her suck them for hours. They had her crawling around
the floor, grovelling, as they laughed at her. They used her ass and her mouth
and her breasts and her body.
And then they brought in the dogs.
Jan fucked the dogs. Jan sucked the dogs off. And swallowed their gism. And when
she threw up on the floor, they told her to eat her own vomit, crouching on the
floor with her hair hanging in it, and lick it all up. And Jan did that too.
And all this time I was watching. And lusting.
"Don't you want her," they said. "You can have her," they said. "All to
yourself. To do anything you want to her. And she'll do anything for you.
Anything at all. Always. Won't you, Jan?" they said.
"Yes," Jan said. "I'll do anything, please god, anything. I'll be your whore,
I'll be a filthy cock-sucking whore and I'll keep your cock in my mouth all
night long and I'll swallow it all down my throat and you can hurt me if you
want. Any time you want. Hurt me. I'll scream for you to make you happy. I'll
cry my guts out. I'll crawl for you all my life. I'll fuck for you, I'll fuck
for anybody you want."
"Burn her again," I said.
"Will you tell us?
"No," I said.
"I'll do anything," Jan said.
"You wouldn't kiss me last night," I said.
"I will," Jan said. "I will I will I will I'll kiss you all you want, I'll stick
my tongue down your throat and scream into your mouth, I'll wrap my legs around
you and give you my body and my mouth and my cunt and my soul."
"Burn her," I said, and they spread Jan out and stretched her taut and held her
down and began burning her again.
And I told them.
I told all of it. Over Jan's screaming and howling I told it all. And I stuck my
cock into Jan's screaming mouth, and fucked that howling mouth, and shot down
her throat, and Jan was choking and screaming and gagging and howling and
coughing and shrieking. And I lay down on my back and told Jan to fuck me, and
she straddled my hips and took my cock into her body and as Jan was moving up
and down with breasts bouncing and thighs flexing and hair bobbing I told them
to whip Jan's back and now I was fucking that agony-filled squirming shouting
body as they kept whipping and whipping and Jan was twisting and shrieking and I
took hold of Jan's hair and pulled her down against me and mashed my lips to
hers. And Jan stuck her tongue down my throat and kissed me and kissed me,
screaming into my mouth, and now I rolled her over and I was on top of that
body, pounding and thrusting, and I told Jan to wrap her legs around me, and now
all of those long soft luscious sexy thighs and calves clamped around my waist,
rubbing, sliding, clasping my body as I fucked her.
"I own you, you bitch," I said.
"I know," Jan said.
"Tell me what you are," I said.
And Jan said, "I'm your cock-sucking whore bitch, I'm your slave, I'm your toy,
your sex-toy, I'll do anything you say, I'll suck you and I'll fuck you and I'll
scream for you. Hurt me and whip me and make me crawl. I'm yours always."
"Can I burn your breasts?" I said.
"Yes," Jan said, sobbing. "You can burn my breasts. You can let your friends
burn my breasts. You can make me burn my own breasts. Or my thighs, or my
nipples."
I turned Jan over, flattening her breasts against the floor, and took her in the
ass. Hard.
"Lick the floor," I said. And Jan licked the floor with her tongue, kissed that
floor like a lover at my command, kissing it and licking it and squirming
against it. And I told Jan to take a cigarette and light it and stick the unlit
end up her vagina and let it burn all the way down. Jan did it. I had them lash
Jan to the bars, arms high up, legs slightly spread, watching as that cigarette
burned down. Slowly. Looking into Jan's eyes as Jan began to scream for me.
Watching until it burned all the way down, Jan screaming and screaming, and then
fucking Jan against the bars. Laughing...
