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Number Four
The second night
Next day he found himself hoping that she hadn’t been transferred out. He still didn’t understand what it was he found so intriguing about her but he wanted to figure it out. To his great joy Ollie’s list did not include any updates regarding cell number 4, so she was still here. He couldn’t wait to visit her and put her first on the list for that nights round.
This time he found her sleeping in a foetal position on the filth-bedraggled mattress; now without a hood, her face in her hands. Apart from Ollie’s truncheon bruise on her thigh she had red welts from a cane all over her back and legs. It was the work of the day crew. He couldn’t help but be awed by her beautiful body. “Such a shame to violate such beauty” he thought quietly to himself while smiling a broad hearty smile.
All inmates here get the same treatment, interrogation during the day, and torture during the night. The idea is that the lack of sleep and the round the clock torture will eventually break the inmates and make them start talking.
This time her reaction from Ollie’s truncheon was a lot different. The shock of the impact on her thigh caused her to instantly push away with her legs. It was with such power that she hit the wall with her back, in a single leap. All three of them stood momentarily frozen in shock from her display of agility. It was now he caught her eyes, locked on to his for the first time. Truly magical eyes, bottomless pits of icy blue, endless beauty. He was transfixed. If she hadn’t had her hands tied behind her back he would have interpreted her stance as if she was preparing to lunge at his throat. She looked like a cornered animal getting ready for the last stand. It wasn’t just her eyes that were beautiful, but everything about her. He had never before encountered such raw animal beauty.
He knew he was losing initiative and tried to blink and swallow a few times, and quavered out in a meek voice.
- We’re here to rape your ass again.
His boys managed to snicker, but he had far from the presence to even as much as sneer. She was now looking around as if trying to find somewhere to escape to. There was nothing but dirty brick walls and the locked barred steel door. Once this fact seemed to have sunk in she went back to staring straight at him. He felt he was losing the initiative and stammered out
- My name is “Sir” and your name is “Dirty filthy whore”.
There was no reaction. Ollie took a few steps forward at a leisurely gait and when he was next to her, he let his truncheon smash down on her thigh in one quick strike. She collapsed on the floor from the pain, face in a grimace, but she didn’t utter a sound. He was starting to sweat and panic was welling up from inside, but he knew he had a job to perform.
- That’s no way to behave when your master has spoken to you, is it? What do you say when your Master gives you an order?
She sat up and went back to staring at him. In a perfectly clear, proud and loud voice she said
- Yes, Sir.
The power of her voice forced him to take a step back He felt like she was staring at the back of his head, drilling a hole out the other side. Almost at a whisper he uttered
- Stand up cunt. Bend over that trestle.
- Yes, Sir.
She answered just as proudly as before and obediently went and bent over the trestle. Her anus was bluish red and badly swollen today. She had probably been raped more times than by his team yesterday. She reared back in pain even from just applying the lube and the powerful scream of pain as he pushed his fat cock inside her was deafening. By the time all three of them were done filling her every hole with their cum she was hoarse from the screaming and crying. As they turned to leave he found himself compelled by an invisible force, to catch another glimpse of her before exiting the door. She was still clutching the trestle and now letting out a wheezing howl of pain. It was as if her pain was being transferred to him and stabbing him in his stomach. If his assistants hadn’t grabbed him and pulled him out at that point he might have stood there staring for an eternity.
After his shift and once he was home in bed, he found himself not being able to erase prisoner number 4 from his mind. Her eyes boring into his head kept him awake all day. By the time his wife got home for a shared dinner he was a complete wreck. His wife knew better than to ask him about his day at work, because she was well aware of the top secret nature of his military work. She settled for giving him a massage that didn’t do much to alleviate the pain. He was lucky to have such a loving wife, and he knew better than to assume it wouldn’t need repaying with equal devotion. He just didn’t have it in him tonight.
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