The Wooden Chair

'Get your filthy hands off me...Jenny...JENNY! HELP ME!' Samantha Lewis screamed in terror and fury as two of the Internal Security officers manning the road block dragged her from the battered hire car. Jenny Ondougu didn't answer; two other officers had grabbed her too; thrown her to the ground and one of them had his fingers digging into her throat so all she could manage was a feeble, strangled gasping noise as she threshed around on the dusty track.

Minutes later the two women were gagged and hooded, hands tied behind their backs and in the back of a truck heading back into the city. The hire car was a distant plume of reddish dust in the opposite direction. The normal sounds of urban life slowly returned and people emerged from houses and shacks as the sound of the vehicles faded. No one looked, no-one commented; they had learned from bitter experience that it was healthier if such things were simply not noticed.

The two of them had only met two days before on the flight from Nairobi. Nineteen year old Samantha, blonde, pretty and foolishly unaware of just how dangerous this part of the world could be for someone of her age, colour and appearance could be, was just one of the many thousands of young students taking a chance to travel and explore before starting her university course.

Jenny Ondougu had been in the next seat on the long, boring flight. Thirty years old, attractive and divorced and very self-assured, she worked for on of the human rights organisations that were trying to deal with the excesses of the military government's bloody and oppressive regime. They'd got talking and, discovering Samantha's predicament, Jenny had offered her a spare bed for a night or so whilst she tried to get a flight out.

She'd also tried to tell her new friend about the dangers she faced every day. Samantha had listened politely, but as someone used to a generally law-abiding society, she simply couldn't believe what she was being told about the corruption and sadistic brutality of the regime. Jenny had tried so hard; she had even told her about how the security forces routinely tortured detainees, using electric shocks on the genitals, especially where a woman was being questioned.

She only understood on Tuesday morning when she went with Jenny to her office, or what remained of it. There'd been a panicky brief and anonymous call to say they were being raided...then nothing. When they got there all that remained of the building was a blackened shell; inside there was nothing but a mass of ash and charred timbers a blizzard of scraps of burned paper swirled around in the wind. The jostling crowd was being kept back by a heavy police presence, each constable using his long cane enthusiastically and indiscriminately on anyone within range.

An old man appeared at Jenny's open window and the two of them had a rapid muttered conversation, money changed hands and he disappeared into the seething crowd. 'Jumo's our caretaker. He was next door when the raid took place. He's taking a risk talking with the police there... it was those Internal Security bastards. He said it was me they really wanted...'

She paused as she manoeuvred the car through the milling crowds. 'Look, I know this is nothing to do with you... but, I'm sorry I can't risk going back to the flat at present. Have you left anything vital there?'

Samantha swallowed nervously, now all those things she'd been told were all too real. 'N-no nothing apart from clothes and my camera; I've got my money and passport with me here.' She patted the black bag slung across her shoulder.'

'Thank God for that, right, I'll drop you at the airport then head on for the border.' She thumped the wheel. 'This heap of junk is hired so it'll be no loss if I have to dump it. Oh damn,' she murmured to herself.

'What's the matter?'

'Wrong side of town, it's going to take us an hour or so to get through the outskirts but I daren't take the main roads.'

Five minutes later they reached the road block and capture.

Samantha squirmed and yelled, her frantic pleas muffled by the horrible, stinking hood when half an hour later she was pulled at long last from the truck. No words, just hands holding her, plus heavy breathing and smell of lots of men...then more hands; pinching and tweaking her breasts through the thin tee shirt, fondling her bottom and probing between her thighs as she was forced along at a near trot. She could only whimper and plead as she was half dragged, half carried down concrete steps then along another echoing corridor.

'Nice private room for you...don't worry...we'll be back for you soon.' All she knew it was a man's voice then she was sent stumbling forwards to crash into the far wall of the tiny cell. The iron door slammed and Samantha Lewis, only eighteen and a half years old, slid down the wall to curl up one the floor, sobbing uncontrollably into the hot, stinking darkness of the black hood.

'Take it off.' In a whitewashed bare room at the other end of the underground corridor, Jenny Ondougu blinked, shaking her head to clear it as the stifling hood was roughly removed. The room was small, only about ten feet square, and empty, apart from the grinning cruel-faced men holding her and two other people who were standing waiting for her. A solid looking wooden chair in the middle of the floor seemed to be the only item of furniture. It was marked and scratched with long use, and Jenny could see that metal strips had been bolted on to reinforce the joints of the seat and legs. Jenny tried not to look at the chair because she didn't want to think of what was to come.

Jenny knew instinctively that it was the man in front of her who really mattered, he and the slim, severe looking young woman next to him. He was in his mid fifties; rake thin with a skull-like face that seemed to be all harsh lines and angles. His wiry hair was speckled with grey, the colour almost matching the soft expensive grey of his lightweight suit. His ebony skin showed off the very pale blue of his Italian cotton shirt, worn without a tie and open at the neck.

The woman was only in her twenties, not tall but slim with a muscular, boyish figure and small pointy breasts. She was dressed mannishly, like the guards, in a short-sleeved white shirt but with a short black skirt rather than trousers. Her hair was cut close, trimmed to no more than a black fuzz that emphasised her high cheek bones and thick, full lips. In the moist heat her brown skin gleamed, shiny as polished leather. Her only touch of colour was a vivid pink gloss on her lips and nails

The man studied her through Ghandi-like glasses; small round lenses in plain wire frames. 'My name is Kipengi, Jonas Kipengi...my rank is unimportant. It is sufficient for you to understand that I can do what I wish in matters of National Security.' A brief flicker of amusement showed on his face. 'This is Sergeant N'daga. Please do not be misled by her youthful appearance. She has a talent for this work as you will quickly discover...her preference is to work on women,' he paused and let his eyes rake up and down Jenny's body. 'Especially the more attractive ones.'

The young sergeant was breathing a little heavily as the man spoke, the sharp points of her breasts showing hard under the taut cotton with each movement of her chest. Jenny Ondougu shuddered as she saw the obvious arousal, the sadistic excitement in the sergeant's eyes at the thought that she was going to be allowed to dominate and hurt another woman... using her own knowledge of a woman's most sensitive places to extract the maximum pleasure from her victim's screaming agony.

'Strip her,' Jonas Kipengi said calmly. The guards grabbed Jenny's wrists so her arms were pulled out sideways then twisted viciously forcing her to arch back, lifting onto tiptoe to try and reduce the tearing pressure on her elbows and shoulders. 'Sergeant N'daga always likes to start things off,' he murmured conversationally, 'I suggest you remain still...the knife is very sharp.'

Jenny shuddered as she caught the familiar sharp scent of sexual excitement as the woman's body came closer. She shut her eyes, head turned away denying the touch as slim, elegant fingers grazed across her breasts. She felt a gentle stream of warm air on her ear then a soft, throaty whisper. 'Pretty...I like long nipples...ah; you like having your tits stroked...you want me to play with them?'

There was a brief tug, the hiss of a knife slicing cloth and another tug followed by a sharp 'snick' . Jenny felt the air suddenly cool on her belly as her ruined blouse gaped open then the sudden loss of support as her bra was cut through and the cups fell away from her breasts. The young woman's hands touched her again, cradling the firm brown cones while her breath blew across their black tips. As Jenny's body reacted, her thumbs grazed the peaks of both nipples bringing them to full erection. 'See what I mean...oh...oh yes...nice, very nice...sensitive too.'

'Leave me alone you bitc ...Naaaah! ' Jenny's furious response ended in a scream of pain as the young woman used her fingers and thumbs like two pairs of pincers; squeezing the out-thrust nipples viciously.

'No names...it'll only make it worse,' she hissed. The fingers tightened again, this time twisting as well so Jenny gasped and bucked at the fresh, stabbing pains. 'Do you understand me...you terrorist slut!'

'Y-yes.'

The fingers released their grip and Jenny heard another soft 'snick' as the knife sliced through the fastening of her skirt and it fell to the ground with a slithering whisper of sound. There was a pause, a moment filled by a low growl of appreciation from the two guards as they saw the rest of their prisoner's body for the first time, her genitals emphasised by a brief thong in glossy black. The young woman's clever, expert fingers cupped the plump bulge through the thin fabric, gently squeezing her cunt lips in a deliberate milking action that made the thirty year old executive squirm uncontrollably. Jenny Ondougu could feel the wash of hot embarrassment spreading up her chest and face as her body responded and she felt the wetness oozing from her to soak the tight, clinging panties.

'N-N-N-Naaaaah!'

The gasp was involuntary; Jenny bucked her hips forwards as her young tormentor hooked her index finger and drew it back along the line of her slit just pressing inwards lightly to touch those sensitive inner folds, the nail setting up an exquisite, tormenting vibration as it scratched against the wet silk. Twice more, each time pressing just a little harder and the woman chuckled again.

A movement in the air made Jenny open her eyes as she caught the sharp, coppery tang of her own juices in her nostrils. The young woman was smiling at her and rubbing her fingers together, holding them close to Jenny's nose. The finger tips gleamed wet with sticky moisture. On either side the men moved and shifted, their breathing heavier with sexual excitement as they watched the outstretched woman being masturbated and teased for their entertainment.

Two more swift cuts and the ruined panties joined the rest of Jenny's clothes on the floor. Now the men could see everything; the neatly trimmed black patch of curls arrowing down to the plump, shaved cunt lips, the bulge of her mound and the way those thick cunt lips were now gleaming wet and slightly parted to reveal a tiny flash of her pink, inner flesh with every movement.

The young woman lifted her hands and gently gripped the points of Jenny's breasts. She pinched hard again but this time Jenny bucked but clamped her lips together and said nothing. The woman smiled again, as if some unspoken challenge had been accepted. Still holding her nipples she moved to the side, forcing Jenny towards the wooden chair.

'Sit down.' Jenny obeyed. 'Arms over the back and legs apart,' the fingers twisted...just a little and Jenny gasped, struggling to do as she was told. The two men holding her arms twisted them down over the wooden chair back, making her wince as a thin nylon cuff was looped over her wrists and zipped tight. More of the unbreakable nylon ties were used to secure her ankles, doubled back and tied high up just under the seat so she was forced to sit with her thighs splayed wide apart.

With no chance to struggle and her ankles secured the two men took their time with the rest of what was obviously a familiar routine. Straps around each knee, buckled just above the joint and round the chair legs ensured her legs remained splayed wide and there was no way she could clamp her legs together and shield the gaping slit of her genitals from their obscene attentions.

She was forced to arch up, thrusting her breasts out even more when as they tied her bound wrists to the bottom strut of the rear legs then pulled the cord tight dragging her arms down behind her. Finally a single, wider strap was passed under her breasts and round the chair's back then buckled tight, preventing her lifting clear of the chair when the torture began. One of the men tweaked the out-thrust tip of her left breast and there was a roar of laughter from both of them.

Jonas Kipengi waved them out of the way. 'Time for a little talk, Mrs Ondougu' he said quietly, leaning forwards and adjusting the wire-rimmed glasses as he spoke. 'About the organisation, names, addresses...just the routine things really.'

'We had permission to operate from the authorities...! Your stupid, fucking gorillas burned our records along with everything else this morning or you'd know it too.' She tried to keep the tremors out of her voice. Like the man in front of her, she knew this conversation was futile...just part of the nasty, sadistic game they enjoyed so much.

'Ah no, no not that organisation...the other one...the one that isn't supposed to exist.'

'I work for Kangali Aid...you've got my papers there.' She nodded towards the file in the man's right hand. 'There no other organisation and you bastards know that.'

Jonas Kipengi smiled and leafed through the file again. 'Then it seems we'll have to help your memory, Miss Ondougu.'.

'You can fuck off you pervert! I've...'

'Splaatt!'

The man's open palm smashed into the side of the pinioned woman's face so hard the chair scraped sideways across the bare concrete. He smiled thinly. 'Think about your situation for a moment...rudeness is not clever.' He snapped his fingers and the two guards carried a small table that had been hidden behind the door to one side of the torture chair. On the top was a mahogany box, about the size of a shoebox with two brass terminals at the back and a small brass and bakelite handle sticking out of the right side. Next to it was a loosely coiled jumble of red and black wires and some unidentifiable shiny metal objects.

Sergeant N'daga bent over, her fingers busy untangling the wires. The man held up his hand. 'Before the Sergeant here gets to work, let me tell you what is going to happen now. You've had your chance but refused to give me the information I require.' He patted the box, 'this is my little persuader...so much more civilised than all those beatings, needles under the nails...things like that. It's a field telephone set...a magneto in other words. It produces an electrical current.'

Jonas smiled and paused, relishing Jenny's expression of sick understanding. 'Sergeant N'daga will attach the wires to your body and I will use the magneto to pass a current through the wires.' He looked round at the guard's eager, grinning black faces. 'The men like this little show...I know they're going to enjoy your performance a lot more than you will.' He paused, his fingers caressing the worn and polished handle of the magneto. 'Eventually, Mrs Ondougu, and after much pain, you will tell me what I want to know...everyone does, sooner or later.' The smile widened, 'I'll leave you to guess where the Sergeant will put the electrodes... being a woman she's so much better at finding exactly the right places...'

The young woman flicked her pink tongue lizard-like across her lips as she moved towards Jenny holding red and black wires in her left hand. Each one had a small metal fitting connected to the bared end. Jenny could see that each wire was already attached to one of the brass terminals on the back of the ominous looking wooden box. The young sergeant grinned as Jenny wriggled and heaved uselessly against her bonds; her head shaking in furious denial as she saw the fittings were electrical connectors, the kind they called 'alligator clips' because of their long, toothed jaws.

'Oh yes, you know what these are for then?' Sergeant N'daga held out one of the clips and pressed the end so the jaws opened and Jenny could see the sharp, triangular teeth lining each edge. 'Just right for those nice long titties of yours so let's get them all stiff again,' she giggled, licking the forefinger and thumb of her right hand. She reached across daintily and gently rolled and rubbed Jenny's left nipple. The terrified businesswoman arched back, muscles clenched tight as she tried to avoid the inevitable reaction but to no avail. The sergeant licked her fingers again, working the now-slippery teat so it rose and stiffened to full, jutting hardness once more.

'Oh yes, plenty to grip on now,' she chuckled as she steadied the black tip of Jenny's nipple between the open jaws and slowly relaxed her grip. Jenny arched back as brass touched flesh, her breath hissing through clenched teeth as she tried to ride the pain of those teeth biting into such a tender place then...

'Nnnnnngggg! N-N-Naaah-aaaaah!'

The half-stifled cry was forced from her in another spasm of pain as the young sergeant smiled down at her victim and deliberately squeezed the brass jaws together, pinching the nerve-laden stub in an agonising vice as the teeth bit deeper. When she finally let go little pinpoints of blood welled out along the edge of the jaws.

Satisfied with the placing of the first clip, Sergeant N'daga repeated the careful stimulation of Jenny's other nipple before attaching the other electrode, again pressing the teeth down into the delicate tissues so Jenny bucked in an involuntary spasm. This time, seeing that Jenny was bracing herself for the vicious stabbing pain, she pressed even harder trying to extract another stifled scream from her victim.

'Well, well think you're a tough lady... in five minutes you'll be squealing like a baby...' She walked away leaving the shivering thirty year executive squirming helplessly on the wooden chair. In the sudden silence, everyone could hear the racing panting of Jenny's breathing. Her head twisted to and fro as she stared round desperately, still unable to believe what they were about to do to her. Her body was filmed with sweat and the brass electrodes gripping her nipples shivered and jiggled with every breath.

All she could see round her were cruel pitiless faces, each one tense with obscene excitement. She bent her head forward and Jonas Kipengi smiled as he watched. No different from all the others, he thought, before the first time they always look down like that. Next thing she'll follow the wires back to the box and then...

Unaware of how predictable her response was, Jenny did just that, tracing the swaying black and red wires from the tips of her breasts back to the terminals on the mahogany box. The man stood still awaiting the right moment, left hand resting on the polished top of the box...his right hand resting on the little brass and bakelite handle.

'Watch my hand, Mrs Ondougu,' he said...and he turned the handle.

For long seconds there was nothing, just a rising whine from the box.

'Aaaaaaaahhh!'

Jenny Ondougu snapped back in a quivering bow, every muscle shivering taut as the current blazed through her nipples. No words, just a single desperate and half-stifled gasp of agony through clenched teeth as she rode the first fizzing shock. Twenty seconds...thirty...the man stopped turning the handle and she slumped down, chest heaving, her breath coming in huge gasps while thin trickles of saliva tinged with blood from her bitten tongue dribbled from the corners of her mouth.

For a moment it seemed she wanted to say something. Her mouth opened and she looked at the grinning faces round the chair...then the man turned the handle again, faster this time and Jenny Ondougu's body arched back again.

'Nnnnnnaaaaaah!'

Each time the magneto whined there was that slight pause before the woman strapped to the chair bucked into another spasm of agony. Each time she kept her teeth clenched tight as she tried to control the animal noises forced from her by the fizzing current searing through her nipples.

Jonas Kipengi nodded, acknowledging her courage...and his hand turned the handle a little faster.

'Ahhhhh Naaarrrgghh...Gaaaaaaaahh!'

Sweat drops flicked off in showers as she vibrated and bucked under the hot kiss of the electric current. This time he played with her, letting the note of the magneto rise and fall so she was twisted and arched again and again by the changing force of the shocks. Each time the current peaked she was bowed back so hard that her chest thrust out with each rib showing and it seemed as though she was deliberately offering her tortured breasts for her tormentors' special pleasure.

After twenty minutes, the whining song died away and Jenny Ondougu, only semi-conscious now, sagged down again, trembling violently. This time her head lolled forwards, her eyes closed to mere slits while her mouth hung open so thick ropes of saliva drooled onto the upper slopes of her breasts. In the sudden silence everyone heard liquid trickling from between her splayed thighs and dripping from the edge of the wooden seat to join a spreading pool on the bare concrete beneath the chair.

The young sergeant pushed her head back. 'Wetting yourself, that's naughty...let me have a look a moment.' Jenny jerked back, suddenly awake again as she felt the woman's fingers cupping her left breast.

' Aaaah N-No D-Don't t-touch meeeeee!' Jenny's voice lifted into a shriek as the grinning woman twisted the brass clip...

'Ready to talk...?' the woman said, flicking the end of the clip with one finger. 'Or shall we try somewhere else...? Her finger traced down the smooth curve of Jenny's abdomen and through the carefully trimmed patch of hair to touch the very top of her cunt slit. 'Put one of those clips on this stiff little clit ...' her finger stroked the naked split...just feathering across the peak of pink flesh peeping from between the parted lips.

'Oh God! Oh G-God! Oh p-please...please d-d-don't... aaaah...p-p-please...nuh...pleeeeese!'

The two guards shuffled closer, stroking the thick obvious bulges in their black trousers, surreptitiously masturbating at the sight of that slim, pink-tipped finger gently fretting the tortured woman's clitoris, each caress forcing her to jerk and move even though the tiniest movement jarred the electrodes. Electrodes clamped to nipples that were now so horribly swollen that the taut flesh looked almost polished, like ripe berries held between the toothed, brass jaws.

The sergeant looked up at her shivering victim as her finger pressed and circled gently, watching the expressions of pain and growing, unwanted pleasure on the woman's tear-stained face. She heard the man's voice through the fog of her agony. 'The sergeant asked you a question, Mrs Ondougu...we haven't heard an answer.'

Jenny shook her head violently in an attempt to distract her mind from that delicate, skilful touch that was slowly driving her to the brink of coming despite the pain. 'N-nothing to s-say...told you... aaaaah! ' She drew in her breath with a hiss as the edge of the sergeant's nail just scraped the moist, exposed bulb now peeping clear of its fleshy hood. ' T-told you...there's nothing e-else... nuh... naaaaah...aaaah!' The sergeant's finger flickered back and forth and the pinioned woman strained against the ties holding her down.

'A moment, Sergeant,' the man said quietly. Jenny gasped with relief as the tormenting stimulation suddenly ceased but the gasp changed to a frantic pleading as the man continued, 'I think it's time for a change...one up inside and the other on the clitoris. We'll see how stubborn Mrs Ondougu really wants to be.'

'Noooooo, you can't noooooo Pleeeeesssssseee! ARRGGH!'

The pleas became a scream as her young tormentor jerked the clips free from her nipples; Sergeant N'daga giggled at the two sharp 'clicks' as each one was ripped off . Letting the wires dangle from one hand she leaned over and kissed the bloody tip of Jenny's left breast. 'Just you wait till these are swollen a bit more...then you'll feel it when we put the clips on again.' She smiled and kissed the other abused stub as Jenny wriggled and panted at the thudding agony of returning circulation, a feeling that the drum-taut peaks of her breasts were going to split open at any moment.

As Sergeant N'daga spoke her fingers were was busy with the wires. Jenny realised that each alligator clip was on a push connector so it could be easily removed. This time the grinning sergeant had attached the black wire to a polished metal probe about six inches long that looked like some deformed metal penis... A curved, finger thick shaft swelling to a bulbous crest the size of a small egg, the whole thing was made of gleaming chrome apart from a small black plastic disc near the base and an abbreviated black insulated rubber finger grip below that.

Jenny's smiling torturer knelt between her knees, carefully avoiding the damp patch on the floor. Holding the probe by the base, she stroked the gleaming bulb up and down the wet lips of Jenny's cunt, coating it with a film of slippery juices. Craning forwards and staring down at her own genitals in terror, the thirty year old business woman finally realised that it didn't matter if she gave in or not...they were enjoying torturing her too much and they were going to go on doing these obscene things to her until her body could take no more.

As the bulb pressed against the opening of her vagina, Jenny also understood why the young sergeant had been allowed to masturbate her so obviously during the torture. Her own wetness would improve the electrical contact; not just that but in her aroused state every part of her cunt, especially her clit, would be ultra sensitive. Jenny heaved against the straps as the wide bulb stretched the opening but she couldn't resist because her own arousal allowed the sergeant to slide the probe easily up into her body.

'Aaaah! '

Just a single gasp of protest as the stretching sensation became painful then the sudden cold fullness deep inside as the metal cock popped through the ring and curved up into her body...deep enough that she could feel the pressure of that domed head against the mouth of her cervix. The plastic collar pressed tightly against the pink inner folds of her cunt leaving only the rubber finger grip protruding, and the black wire snaking out between her parted thighs.

'And this one's for that special place,' Jenny stared at the red wire the woman was holding out to her. This time the little clip was silver, like a tiny pair of pincers. The sergeant held it open so Jenny could see the toothed front edges and then reached down and parted the dark brown outer lips to reveal the pink inner folds of Jenny's cunt. She stretched the flesh even wider, pressing down so the shiny pearl of Jenny's clitoris stuck right out. Very delicately she moved the clip until the little bulb was between the jaws then paused, stared back up into her victim's panic-filled eyes as she slowly let the teeth close around the base of the shivering business woman's clit.

Jenny had already braced herself but she couldn't contain an anguished whimper as the metal points bit into her most sensitive place. The whimpers became a rapid, frantic panting as the sergeant got up and moved out of the way and Jenny saw the man touch the handle.

'Nothing to say I presume,' he said quietly, looking at the terrified face of the woman in the chair. 'You will have my dear...in a little while, you will have,' and his hand moved the handle, slowly and deliberately, and the whine of the diabolical machine filled the room again.

'Nnnnnnnnnnnnaaaarrrrggghhh!'

This time there was no stifling her screams of agony. Jenny Ondougu's body snapped taut against the restraints; muscles and sinews showing in cruel, vibrating relief as the current sent her into an uncontrollable spasm of agony. Despite the strap beneath her breasts she arched up from the seat of the chair bucking her hips as though trying to fuck the air. Her head was thrown back, mouth stretched wide in a fixed grimace and eyes bulging out to stare blindly at the cracked plaster of the grubby ceiling.

For ten long minutes he kept the torture going. With the diabolical skill of an expert he kept her on the squealing, unbearable edge of raw agony; stopping, and then starting again immediately his shuddering victim had taken a few breaths to recover. Jenny Ondougu's screams became more and more frantic until each new turn of the handle produced a piercing, mindless squeal that was hardly human.

In the pauses the pitiless voice continued, adding to Jenny's torment with each sadistically taunting comment. 'Ah...louder that time...don't forget to watch the handle... Are you getting tired, Mrs Ondougu? Oh dear I see you are...my little box never gets tired. Anything to tell me...no? Perhaps it's time I asked Sergeant N'daga to slide that nasty probe up inside your anus instead?

'Oh Goh!...Oh Goh!...Oh Goh!....nuh...nuh....pleeeeg...pleeeeg!'

The once elegant executive writhed against the straps, her reply now just a mumbled babble, barely audible to her tormentor who leaned forwards to hear the slurred and broken words.

'No? But you haven't told me anything yet...perhaps if I turn the handle just a little more...?'

The whirring whine began again and the babble became a single demented screech of outrage as the electricity fizzed through Jenny Ondougu's clitoris and scorched the delicate inner tissues of her vagina. Once more she slammed back against the chair, rocking it back onto two legs for a moment as her muscles convulsed. At ankles and thighs and beneath her quivering breasts the ties dug deep into her flesh. Round each wrist, where she still had a little power of movement the skin was stripped away leaving a red-raw band; the white nylon cuffs now streaked with blood from her manic efforts to free herself.

'Sergeant, I don't think Mrs Ondougu is really listening. Let's see if she pays more attention the back way...'

'No-no-no-no-no-no...oh no...pleeessssee... noooo...no-no...Nooooooooo p-p-pleeessssee!'

Jenny Ondougu gibbered out her useless pleas as the sergeant wriggled the horrible probe free from her cunt. The young woman grinned at the desperation in her victim's face as she realised what she was about to do and traced the rounded bulb across Jenny's mouth, smearing her own blood and mucus along her lips. 'You know where it's going now...don't you...all the way up inside...'

She squatted behind the chair, one hand resting on Jenny's shoulder as she pushed the probe along the wooden seat and into the cleft of her buttocks. Instinctively, Jenny lifted away as she felt the probe nuzzling against the puckered whorl of her anus, but the strap held her down and there was nothing she could do to stop the slow deliberate insertion as the sergeant skilfully worked the probe deeper and deeper. Her breasts heaved and she arched out, her mouth wide in anguish as the probe stretched the tender ring of her anus almost to splitting point. The sergeant pressed harder and Jenny screamed wildly.

'Too big...no-no-no...no, too big! Aaah! Aaaaaaah! Aarrrghh! Nooooo take it out, pleeeese take it out...please!'

Then, just as before, her traitorous body let her down. Once the widest part of the bulb was through her anal ring the probe was pulled fully inside by the immediate contraction of her own muscles, gripped as though by a hungry, sucking mouth.

'Tell me about the organisation...,' the pitiless voice demanded through the fog of Jenny's agony, 'just tell me all about it.'

All she could manage was a single shake of the head. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she saw him reach for the handle again. This time there was no finesse and the note of the magneto rose higher and louder than ever. Jenny Ondougu once more arched up from the chair, lifting herself from the seat so the watchers could see the wires trailing from her anus and her clit. Her whole body vibrated madly and for a few seconds there was nothing but the magneto's whine and the rapid tattoo of the wooden legs against the concrete floor. Then her inhuman scream echoed round the room. A scream that went on and on and on as the magneto continued its whining song of agony.

'Yaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrggggghhh!'

This time the overload of pain was too much to bear and, as the machine growled into silence, Jenny Ondougu collapsed into unconsciousness, her breath coming in short, snorting gasps while her head rocked bonelessly, chin resting on the saliva-wet slopes of her breasts.

'Unclip her and put her over there,' there was no obvious emotion in the man's voice, just a vague dissatisfaction that she had not yet succumbed to the persuasion of the little metal crabs. 'I want her arms above her head and her legs apart so we can get at her again if necessary. Gag her and then.' He paused and looked at the two sexually excited guards and the flushed and aroused figure of Sergeant N'daga. 'Then you can fetch that young English student...perhaps seeing someone else in the chair may loosen that stubborn tongue...'

Samantha Lewis was huddled in the corner of the cell when the door crashed open. She was shivering with terror having spent the last hour listening to the inhuman screams coming from the room at the other end of the corridor as they tortured her friend Jenny Ondougu. Worst of all had been when the screams stopped...and she heard the footsteps getting closer.

'Get her up!' Samantha twisted her head round inside the sticky darkness, shocked to hear a woman's voice. She pressed herself into the corner but the hands were too strong, the pinching grip on her arms too painful to resist. Someone fumbled with her wrists then, as she felt her hands come loose for the first time in hours, the filthy bag was yanked off her head and she could see the three black figures crowding the small cell.

'Right, your turn now white girl...' It was the woman who spoke, her voice hard and aggressive, the threat very obvious. Samantha stumbled backwards until she could feel the rough plaster against her shoulders. She rubbed the sweat from her face, trying to brush the wet, clinging strands of blonde hair away from her cheeks.

'P-please, what do you want...I'm only a tourist...I came her on Monday... P-please, check with the airline. I haven't done anything!' She looked up, rubbing the swollen, red marks on her wrists. 'Please let me go, please!'

The woman and the two muscular guards just laughed. 'Always the same story, didn't know anything, didn't do anything,' the woman sneered. 'First you get searched...strip!'

'Strip, what, what do you mean?'

'I mean get your fucking clothes off or my two friends here will do it for you, understand?'

'P-please, no, no please don't make m... Aaaaarrrggh!

One of the men held her shoulder and with the other hand grabbed the neck of her tee shirt. One vicious wrench and the material ripped down the seams leaving Samantha almost naked to the waist. His hands had caught the edge of her bra so one pink-tipped breast was exposed, the brief lacy cup barely concealing the other from the guards grinning gaze.

Her hands came up instinctively.

'Thwap!' 'Thwup!' 'Thwap!'

The woman's right hand flashed out smacking against Samantha's cheeks with three vicious slaps, right...left... right.

'Leave your fucking tits alone and do as you're told!'

Blinking the tears from her eyes and trying to hold back the gulping sobs Samantha Lewis let the ruins of her tee shirt fall off her arms then scrabbled at the fastening of her jeans, hands fumbling to push the tight denim over her hips without dragging her brief cotton panties down as well. Hurrying to avoid being hit again she scraped her trainers off then braced one hand on the wall as she tugged the jeans over each foot in turn. She was just straightening up when the men grabbed her wrists.

'Time to show us what you've been hiding,' the woman chuckled and rolled the other cup down so Samantha's breasts were completely exposed. Still confined by the band of her bra they were pressed together and lifted so the small pink tips jutted upwards, each framed by a small lighter triangle against her suntanned skin.

'No, no please don't, don't touch me!'

The men held her easily, sniggering at her embarrassment as she blushed red, closed her eyes and turned her head away as Sergeant N'daga reached up to stroke the firm, full globes. All three of them laughed as she used her nails on the pale pink aureoles; scratching lightly so the tips stuck out like tiny blunt spikes and Samantha writhed and gasped at each tickling caress.

The young sergeant squatted in front of the terrified teenager and reached up for the waist band of her white cotton thong.

'Oh yes...' her voice was husky with arousal. 'Look at this, boys, just like a baby's slit...all smooth and silky...' The three of them stared avidly at the eighteen year old's shaven mound and the naked, pouting cunt lips. The sergeant pulled Samantha's panties down, let her step out of them then lifted her cupped hand between the girl's legs.

'Aaaah...nah...p-p-p-please...aaah...d-d-d-don't....naaaaah! '

One finger wormed between the naked cunt lips and probed into the opening of Samantha's vagina so she bucked and lifted onto tiptoe at the unwanted invasion.

'Someone's been up here before, haven't they?' The question was accompanied by a sudden jabbing movement that jerked Samantha even more upright.

' Aaah...y-yes...yes...don't please...no, no...'

'Well, once we've had a little chat I'm sure you'll be ready to entertain us too...' the finger twisted and scraped, '...won't you?'

'No, please, please let me go...I'm not hiding anything, anything at all...'

'Didi, get rid of that...' her finger slipped free and touched the crumpled bra still fastened uselessly under Samantha's breasts. The guard on her left hooked his fingers under the band and wrenched it free before dropping the remains to the floor. 'Right, take her along...and keep your hands off...for now.' The young sergeant jerked her head and the guards twisted the sobbing teenager between them and dragged her out and down the bare echoing corridor.

Samantha almost passed out as they forced her ahead of them into the whitewashed room. The two men held her up easily as she shuddered and mumbled in abject fear as she saw what they had done to the woman who had befriended her only two days before.

Jenny Ondougu was stretched up on tiptoe near the back wall of the room, arms above her head and tied by the wrists to a rope that ran through a thick iron hook in one of the wooden ceiling beams and down to a fastening on the wall behind her back. If that wasn't enough, her legs were straddled wide apart, held at full stretch by the ropes tying her ankles to metal rings fixed into the floor itself.

Like Samantha she was naked, her body wet and slick with sweat and shiny with trails of saliva down her breasts and belly. Her strained muscles shivered and twitched constantly while Samantha could see her chest heaving with the effort of breathing. As she saw Samantha she jerked even more, eyes staring at her in shock and horror. But the only sounds she could make were a series of bubbling, snorting gasps because her mouth was stretched wide round what looked like a red rubber ball; a ball that was threaded onto a black, nylon strap tied tightly round the back of her head.

'Oh no, no, Jenny, Oh God what have they done to you?' Samantha wailed. Now she was closer she could see the signs of torture; the streaks of blood from her mouth, the way that her nipples looked so horribly sore and swollen...and the way her friend's cunt lips looked puffy and sore too.

'Mrs Ondougu has been foolish enough to refuse to help us.' Samantha twisted round to stare at Jonas Kipengi who was sitting on an ordinary plastic chair watching her reactions, completely at ease with legs crossed and smoking a cigarette. 'You probably heard part of our conversation a little while ago.' He got to his feet and walked over to where the young student stood trembling in the grip of the two guards. 'In a minute you will discover why she was singing so loudly.' He smiled and stroked the upper slope of the English girl's breast. 'Very nice, such a pity though...'

'Please, whoever you are, this is all a mistake, a horrible mistake...I've done nothing, nothing at all...I told her,' a frantic nod in the direction of Sergeant N'daga, 'told her that I've only been here two days...how can I know anything!

'Well now, that's the pity...for you. You see it is important that Mrs Ondougu tells me what I want to know. She's being a little stubborn so perhaps the sight of her young, innocent friend enjoying the attentions of my little persuader might make her change her mind.

''You...you...bastard...you can't do this...you just can't!'

'I can do anything...' and without warning he touched the tip of his cigarette to the very edge of the pink aureole capping Samantha's left breast.

'Naaarrrgghh!'

'You see...anything at all. Listen carefully, my men are going to let you go. I want you to sit down in that chair. You will sit with your knees apart, hands behind you over the back of the chair so they can strap you down all ready for our little chat.' He moved across to where the straining figure of Jenny Ondougu writhed helplessly. 'Just in case you are thinking of doing anything silly...each time you pause I will give your friend here a taste of what you've just experienced, ready?'

As the guards let her go, Samantha instinctively clasped her injured breast, her breath racing as she huddled forwards and stared wildly round the room. Jonas Kipengi smiled to himself, drew on his cigarette and touched it precisely to the swollen tip of Jenny Ondougu's right nipple.

The wet mewing noises became frantic and the brown body bucked insanely as he held the glowing tip against her flesh with a soft sizzling noise.

'Are you going to sit down...or shall I continue?'

'Oh God! Please don't please don't hurt us...pleeeeese!

'ssssssssttt!'

'That's both nipples...shall I burn them again or do you think I should try somewhere else?' Jonas Kipengi deliberately drew the cigarette to glowing brightness, tapped off the ash and held it at the fork of Jenny's body. Jenny's head threshed madly and she strained backwards trying to avoid the heat from the burning tobacco.

'Please, no, no, I'm doing what you want please, please don't burn her again...'

Samantha scrambled to sit down on the wooden chair then slowly and reluctantly lifted her hands round until they were over the chair back. 'And the feet please Miss Lewis...' Samantha kept her knees almost together as she tucked her feet to each side of the chair

'Nnnnnnnnnggggggggh!'

This time the noises from behind the gag were even wilder as Jonas Kipengi touched the tip of his cigarette delicately against the protruding tip of Jenny's clitoris. For a moment she appeared to go completely; mad threshing and writhing so violently that the rope creaked and vibrated with the strain of each spasm.

'No, no I said wide apart...tuck your feet back behind you.'

At a nod from their master the two guards had Samantha strapped into position in less than a minute. Like Jenny her ankles were tied up against the base of the seat, her wrists bound with a nylon cuff then dragged down by a cord looped through them and round the bottom rail so she was forced to sit arched back offering her breasts and the naked oval of her cunt to her torturers. The two thigh straps were enthusiastically cinched tight until the flesh bulged up on each side ensuring the teenager was unable to close her legs at all. Sergeant N'daga finished off, taking time to position the final strap right under the girl's breasts before cinching it painfully tight to clamp her upper body to the chair frame.

'Now, Miss Lewis...you are going to provide a somewhat painful lesson for Mrs Ondougu...'

Samantha stared in disbelief at the sight of the gleaming chrome probe on the end of the black wire. This couldn't be happening, not to her, it couldn't be true it must be some disgusting nightmare...

She jerked, making the chair stutter on the concrete as the sergeant ran her fingertips teasingly along the split bulge of her cunt. Oh God it was true, this woman was going to attach those clips to her body and then...

Sergeant N'daga gently parted the girl's outer labia then licked the fingers of her other hand, transferring the wetness to the folds of her soft, inner lips, watching the girl's reaction to each feather light touch. She licked her fingers again, spreading her saliva over the swollen inner lips making them even more slippery as she continued with her slow expert masturbation. Finally, as Samantha's hips moved against her hands, one fingertip circled the girl's engorged clitoris and Samantha bucked uncontrollably, unable to disguise her sudden intense reaction to being touched in her most sensitive place.

The finger wriggled so the sergeant's nail fretted under the hood and Samantha jerked and bounced helplessly again.

' D-d-don't p-p-please...nuh...nuh...naaaaah! '

'Oh yes you like that really don't you,' the voice was mocking. 'Now let's see how you like my metal cock...' Samantha craned forwards as the sergeant brought the domed head of the probe sliding along the wet, open channel of the teenager's cunt. She worked the shiny head to and fro along the girl's slit, each time pressing gently against the tight opening of her vagina. 'Come on, let the little man inside...'

'Aaaaarrrggh! No...no take it out! Please take it out! I don't want t...Naaaagggghh! '

The sergeant pressed harder, twisting her wrist so the bulbous head suddenly slipped through the ring of muscle, sinking deep and impaling the girl fully on the polished metal shaft. 'Oh yes, slides in good and easy...seems you being doing a bit of hard fucking already.'

With the probe fully inserted the sergeant straightened up and walked back to the little table. She put on a black rubber glove and picked up the red wire. No clip this time, just the last quarter of an inch of insulation stripped off to leave the bare copper core. She walked back and knelt down in front of the chair holding the wire carefully in her gloved right hand.

The girl wasn't looking at Jenny or her guards; panting and gasping in terror of what was to come, her eyes were fixed on the two thin black wires, following them across the floor then up to where they were attached to the brass terminals on the polished mahogany box.

'Now, Mrs Ondougu it's up to you, all you have to do to spare Miss Lewis any unpleasantness is to tell me what I want to know...otherwise' He looked at the quivering, gagged figure held stretched up in that inverted Y. 'Otherwise it will simply get worse and worse...for both of you. Perhaps we should let you have a sample so you can hear your friend's singing voice.'

He turned the handle and the rising whine of the magneto filled the room once more. As the machine started, Sergeant N'daga touched the bared wire to the very top of the girl's cunt slit, just sliding it in between the lips and holding it in place with a delicate precision.

Eighteen year old Samantha Lewis managed a couple of grunting noises before she arched back in the chair. Just like Jenny Ondougu, to the watchers it seemed as though she was manically fucking some invisible lover as her hips bucked and vibrated. The black wire clattered on the wooden chair seat but the probe was too deeply impaled for her to eject it despite the mad frenzy of her spasms. The sergeant skilfully kept the end of the red wire inside the girl's cunt so the current seared through her genitals with every turn of the handle. The tendons of her neck showing like cables, the teenager stared blindly at the ceiling and screamed insanely in her agony.

'YEEEEAAARRRGGHHH! Argh...Argh...Argh... NNNAARRGGGH!'

At a nod from Jonas Kipengi, the sergeant pulled the wire away from the girl's cunt letting her flop down against the straps sobbing and gasping uncontrollably as the whine of the magneto died away.

'Didi, whilst Miss Lewis gets her breath back, remove Mrs Ondougu's gag would you, let's hear if she's changed her mind.' The sounds from the back of the small room became louder and harsher as the ball gag was pulled free from Jenny Ondougu's mouth.

'Bassar...youfukkin bassar....tol you...there wash n-nothing...she's a v-v-vishitor...m-met her on the plane. Leave her lone you bassars!'

'Ah, still the same unpleasant noises, you really don't have much regard for your friend's welfare do you? Sergeant, attract the young lady's attention.'

'Swack!' 'Swock!'

'Aaaaaaah, Oh God!, no, please please...no don't pleeeese!'

Samantha Lewis's head snapped up, eyes wide with pain and shock as the sergeant's gloved hand smacked across her exposed breasts, making the full globes bounce first to one side, then to the other. Red, angry blotches bloomed against the tanned skin where the sergeant's rubber-gloved palm had made contact.

Jonas Kipengi continued as though nothing had happened, 'I'm becoming tired of these stupid games, Mrs Ondougu. Unless you tell me something, the sergeant will insert the wire up the girl's urethra this time... she will find it particularly agonising. And remember there's nothing she can do to stop it... that's up to you.

'Yyyyiiiiiiiaaaahh!'

The girl's body suddenly arched taut as she strained forwards in a desperate attempt to avoid the sergeant's fingers parting the lips of her cunt once more. She squealed again as she felt the tip of the bare copper wire tickling the entrance to her pee-hole. The squeal became a shrill scream as the sergeant skilfully twisted and turned the wire, scoring the ultra sensitive walls of the narrow tube as she inserted the wire deeper and deeper.

'Watch carefully, Mrs Ondougu...you'll be feeling the same thing in a few minutes unless...' Jonas Kipengi smiled sadistically and wound the magneto's handle. He kept the speed steady, listening for the girl's animal screams to reach their fullest pitch as Sergeant N'daga carefully moved the wire inside her urethra, skilfully extracting the maximum agony from the electric current. Each little movement of her hands brought new and higher shrieks from the demented girl as she jerked and bucked like a puppet in the torture chair, once again her hips thrusting madly as she fucked the air in her torment.

The torture only stopped when Sergeant N'daga suddenly moved out of the way as Samantha Lewis lost control of her bladder and a thin stream of urine splashed onto the chair seat before dripping onto the stained concrete below.

The magneto whined into life again. 'Just a few touches on her clitoris I think sergeant, you can put the wire up inside again in a moment...' Grinning with pleasure, Sergeant N'daga touched the tip of the copper wire to the little pink bulb of the teenager's clit.

'Naaaarrrrgggghhhh!'

Instantly, Samantha convulsed in a single arching spasm that moved the chair a foot backwards, scraping noisily on the bare concrete. Sergeant N'daga waited for her to relax...just a fraction...and touched the wire to her clitoris once more.

'Yeeeeeeeeeeeaaarrrrggghh!'

The wire touched and caressed the tiny bundle of nerves again and again, each time sending the eighteen year old into another muscle-wrenching spasm.

'Hold it there...we'll see how she likes it if I turn the handle a little faster.' The whine rose in pitch and the sergeant leaned forwards once more, this time pressing the tip of the copper wire into the stem of Samantha's clit under the hood. This time she held the wire in place as the mad convulsions started, moving her hand in time with the frantic surges of the girl's hips and jerking muscular spasms.

'Nooooooo! No, stop you fucking bastards, stop it NOW! ' The yell of protest from Jenny Ondougu cut across Samantha Lewis's piercing screams. Jonas Kipengi let the handle go and the magneto whined down into silence. The only sound in the room was the whimpering, bubbling gasps from the teenager strapped down in the torture chair.

'Stop doing that...she's not part of this...leave her alone and I'll tell you... tell you what you want.' Jenny's head hung down, tears of desperation and despair trickling down her cheeks as she gave in.

'Well, well...just as I thought. Right Mrs Ondougu, let's hear what you have to tell me...

Jonas Kipengi lit another cigarette and walked across to where the woman hung from the rope. He stroked the swollen and blistered tip of her right breast, smiling at the jerk and sudden hissing intake of breath. 'Don't waste my time, Mrs Ondougu...your friend stays in the chair until I'm satisfied. And if she passes out then I'll have the sergeant here use the wire up inside you...understand?

Jenny Ondougu nodded, her eyes fixed on the glowing tip of her torturer's cigarette.

On the other side of the room the two guards grinned at one another and furtively eased the curving bulge of their erections inside their pants. Soon it would be their turn to fuck the delightfully pink breasted white girl.

A bonus for a job well done.

Cortez

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