War Has Always Been Hell

Chapter I

Lily Martin knelt with her rump resting on her heels on a smooth wooden floor receiving her orientation after having been taken captive during the most recent battle in San Antonio, Texas. Her field interrogation was fairly civil and quick. The soldiers took her personal information, asked her a few innocuous question, bound her hands, blindfolded and gagged her then placed her in a car for transport. A hot, dusty, long ride west of the city to a cement block compound ended in rougher handling to include a thorough strip search leaving her naked and in solitary confinement.

Twenty-four years old, slim with red hair, she was a quite a prize for the federal field marshal’s forces. Four other people, two women and two men, all nude, were also in the room in the same kneeing position. A variety of welts and bruises covered all their bodies. Her captor, the field marshal, was a normal sized man, perhaps six feet tall. He had a dark tan with light blonde hair and a clean shaven face. He was shirtless and the same light hair covered his barrel chest and slightly protruding belly. Various tattoos depicting the flag, swords, and guns adorned his biceps and forearms. Lilly estimated he was perhaps 50 some years old. The group of prisoners were kneeling close together centered in an office-type space with a large black desk, several file cabinets, a large map of Texas mounted on the wall to her left.

“You will remain naked at all times,” the field marshal’s lieutenant said to the group in general. “Additionally,” he added, “when directed, you’ll perform exactly as ordered and with enthusiasm. Failure to perform exceptionally will earn you punishment. You’ll all begin by standing, placing your hands behind your head, fingers laced and eyes closed—move quickly.” The group of five prisoners hurried to their feet and assumed the position mandated.

Standing still with her eyes closed Lily thought back to the time of her capture nearly a month earlier. The current civil war began six months ago following the assassination of a president whose political agenda had divided the nation. Texas had been the first state to secede and was followed by several other western states. The Texas National guard had immediately backed the governor and as a result, the U.S. military had moved into the strongest rebel area of south Texas. Lily’s husband joined this rebel force and she’d been unable to contact him since as federal forces had jammed all communications.

The field marshal lead an impressive force of land and air troops and stormed the city of San Antonio taking as few lives as possible while similarly capturing scores of prisoners in an attempt to secure information on the rebel forces that had fled to the desolate areas of Bexar county and the surrounding countryside.

Lily spent her first day in solitary. Her first of several interrogations began the following day. Simple verbal questioning rapidly escalated to abuse over the course of two days. She’d only been able to endure less than 15 minutes of wrist-cuffed suspension and ten blows of a leather strop before she revealed all she knew of her husband and the Confederation—which was very little—but her interrogators enjoyed lashing her firm flesh so they continued the pretext of working as they laid on with gusto. Filthy men slapped her breasts and buttocks and drove their fists into her belly until she lost consciousness. She came to kneeling on the floor with her arms still bound and pulled over head to witness several other captives receiving similar punishment and many others in various stages of distress. All were naked and those alert moaned or yelled depending on what was happening to them.

One woman was quite a bit older and heavier. While her additional body weight seemed to offer her some padding from the whipping, it also added to her agony in the suspension as leather laces bit into her wrists—her swollen hands were as crimson as were the welts that covered her body. Her tormentors had inserted a wooden pole into her rectum and were using it as a lever to swing her to and fro as the strop did its work. A chubby black girl was tied spread-eagled on the floor with a large man sitting on her belly pawing her breasts and viciously twisting her nipples. Another man squatted at her head and ladled water over her face while alternating between pulling her hair and slapping her face. The poor girl spit, choked, and bellowed continually.

An older thin man was cried as he was forced into a deep squat with his hands shackled behind his back while two soldiers held him and laid onto his thighs and calves with short wooden clubs. Lash marks covered his torso and cords encircled his genitals. The bindings were tied tight forcing his organ into a now dark purple wad of flesh that caught blows regularly.

Several men were hung from the ceiling chained by their ankles unconscious with welts covering their torsos. Three women sat bound on contraptions that held their legs spread wide. Their arms were cuffed behind them. The result was their chests, bellies, and genitals were fully displayed for the spirited whippings they were all receiving.

Two particularly muscular men swung from the ceiling on the same chain tether. A heavy iron ring fastened jointly to their wrists bound behind their backs with their arms pulled up high due to their suspended weight. This punishment position had many names over the ages: “strappado,” "reverse hanging," and "Palestinian hanging." Filthy canvas straps encircled their heads muffling their cries and allowing only wild eyes to show. They writhed continually in an attempt to relieve the pressure to their shoulders and shield sensitive parts from the blows laid on by a soldier wielding his strop. It was a grotesque airborne dance of pain.

Lily took in this entire surreal panorama with exhaustion, thirst and pain alerting her that she was a prime player in a horrible situation. The hot, brightly lit room was a an actual torture chamber. This couldn’t be she thought. Not in this day and age. All the soldiers and prisoners were drenched in sweat and gasping for breathe; the former from flailing at the prisoners and the latter from fear and pain. Wet spots were everywhere on the rough cement floor—pools of sweat and urine. One pitiful prisoner crawled on his raw hands and knees using several towels to sop up the assortment of liquids while a small female soldier lashed his back with a flexible fiberglass rod.

Lily flinched when the female soldier who’d been whipping the prisoner cleaning up plopped down cross-legged beside her. The soldier ordered the man to roll on his back with his legs and arms straight up in the air.

“Whew,” she said addressing Lily. She smiled as she added, “his position is called dead bug,” while she caressed his heaving belly with her whip. The soldier look around. “Been at this for nearly two hours now and getting good information. You lot are squealing like pigs. You passed out quickly though so letting you recover a bit then we’ll try again.” She smiled kindly and added “I’m Private Julie—ma’am to you.” Julie was Lily’s size with a ruddy complexion and jet black hair tied in a ponytail. She was dressed in bloused tan-mottled desert fatigue pants and a grey sports bra that was soaked in perspiration. She had a tight belly and small breasts but her nipples appeared unusually large and very erect under the wet cotton. She had a similarly saturated rolled towel draped around her neck that she used to dab her face. She shifted and drew her knees to her chest and leaned forward to talk quietly to Lily.

“Look around you sweetie…they’re all going to talk so I recommend you sing loudly and a lot. Why get yourself fucked up?” Julie reached a hand out and stroked Lily’s right foot gently massaging her toes. “I was in your situation four months ago. Taken prisoner and though I could hold out. A day here convinced me I needed to change my attitude. The federal forces will let you join them if you have skills to offer. Me, I’m a software developer…when I’m not working a new batch of prisoners.” Lily remained absolutely silent, afraid to say anything should it be construed as wrong.

Julie worked her had up Lily’s foot and legs continuing with firm massage squeezes. She soon reached Lily’s groin and fingers softly began to probe her public area lightly combing her tufted mound. Lily instinctively closed her legs and drew back. “Ah, don’t be shy princess,” teased Julie. I can be a good friend. You’ll need that here.”

“The redhead is awake sergeant,” a young man said upon noticing Lily was stirring while talking to Julie.

The sergeant addressed Julie, “Private, get your pig back to mopping then get her some water then put her on the post and clamp her until we’re done with the fat black bitch,” instructed the sergeant who slapped enthusiastically at the black girl’s large breasts.

Julie presented Lily with a full plastic water bottle that she welcomed with quick, full gulps until it was drained. While she drank, another soldier sprayed an oily substance on an upright thick metal post roughly three feet high. “Come on sweetie,” urged Julie as she hefted Lily from behind around the waist. She escorted Lily to the post and reached a hand between her legs from behind and inserted two fingers into Lily’s vagina. After a few seconds, she withdrew, got Lily in a bear hug around her waist and while spreading her legs lowered her until the post touched her genitals. She twisted Lily in order to work the post into her vagina while dropping her until her feet touched the floor then adjusted her wrist restraints until her arms were again raised above her head. Lily’s inseam measured 34 inches so the penetration caused little pain as the pole entered her vaginal cavity only slightly. The fullness in her organ caused her to moan and urinate. The clamps that were about to be applied were another story. Julie pulled large serrated alligator-type clamps from her fatigue pockets and snapped them quickly onto Lily’s nipples. They bit into each nipple in an unrelenting application of agony. Her nipples felt as though they were on fire. Lily’s loud wails for release simply added to the sounds of anguish throughout the brightly lit torture chamber.

“Keep screaming baby,” whispered Julie. “It eases the pain.” Lily needed no encouragement to bellow. The sergeant lumbered over.” You’ll stay here all day unless you tell us about your connection to the Confederation.” With that, he kicked at her left foot causing her to slide down on the post that impaled her. The post pushed violently into her cervix and she immediately vomited.

       “Fuck’in pig!” screamed the sergeant. He lunged forward and slipped on the vomit and fell to the floor which increased his rage. Lily screamed repeatedly that she had told all she knew. However, that didn’t prevent the sergeant from ordering Julie whip her.

Lily could not imagine how she could endure the pain. Her nipples burned furiously as her breasts bounced with each blow. Her vaginal cavity ached with mounting pain and her breathe came in short gasps. Julie whispered as the sergeant walked away, “I have to make this look good baby or it’ll be me riding that post.” Julie rotated behind Lily to concentrate on brandishing wild blows upon her buttocks and back. She then moved around her to beat her breasts smashing down onto the vicious clamps that bit her nipples. Her screams elevated from cries of agony to became incoherent wails. She again vomited while simultaneously loosing control of her bowels then mercifully fainted.