Divorced into slavery

DIVORCED INTO SLAVERY

By Ivorygirl

Carla could find no comfortable position in the dark, dank cell in which she’d found herself alone, her hands cuffed behind her back and bound to her cuffed feet and both attached to a chain imbedded middle ways up in the wall. At the moment, the best she could do with her curled legs beneath her was to remain on her knees on the small cot that put her up just high enough and lean sideways against the wall. The chain she was hooked to didn’t allow for much else, it wasn’t long enough to let her lay down or get off the cot or to even sit on her butt without pulling her hands up higher between her shoulder blades causing considerable pain. Why the need for such confinement, she couldn’t imagine, looking around at her surroundings. The room was a six by six-concrete cell with a barred, elongated window up near the ceiling that looked to be about two feet in width and probably eight or ten inches in height, and a thick steel door with a little window just barely large enough to look through. There didn’t appear to be any chance for escape… she doubted if even Houdini himself could have managed it, so why have her trust up like some dangerous criminal.

A criminal. That’s exactly how she’d been treated since the moment her divorce decree had been finalized. How long had that been? Is this the same day or was it yesterday? No… it was yesterday, she was almost certain of it as night has come and gone at least once. She thought back to what was supposed to be a simple court appearance… just her, her attorney Trey Sizemore, and the judge. Since the divorce was uncontested, even Robert, her soon-to-be-ex-husband wouldn’t be in attendance. The whole matter would be taken care of in twenty minutes or less, her attorney assured her, and then she could go on with her life.

The judge, one Martin T. Ambrose, sat up on the bench and quietly read over her divorce petition then looked to her. "Mrs. Beechum, this petition claims irreconcilable differences between yourself and your husband. You were married for just two years?"

"Yes, Your Honor." Carla answered respectfully as she and her attorney stood for the reading and subsequent decree.

"Did you or your husband try marriage counseling?"

"No, Your Honor, we didn’t."

"Why not?"

"Robert was cheating on me, Your Honor, with two different women. I couldn’t see the point of any counseling."

"I see." He said in answer and looked to the attorney. "Counselor, did you caution your client on the seriousness of these proceedings and inform her of other alternatives in place of this divorce?"

"I advised her to seek other avenues, Your Honor, but she refused."

"Then you’re determined to go through with this petition?" Looking to Carla once more.

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Very well." The judge said and made several notations in the report before him then handed the petition to the attorney. "If you’ll both sign and date the decree."

Trey took the papers, allowed Carla to sign and date it in the correct spaces and then followed suit.

Ambrose looked everything over and then signed it himself. "By the power vested in me in the State of Tennessee, I hear by grant this divorce and in doing so, sentence you, Carla Diane Beechum, to a life of slavery, effective immediately." Directing a stern look to Carla. "You’re here by remanded to the Compound of the Grand Dragon, here in the State of Tennessee for training. Upon the completion of that training, you’ll be sold at auction to the highest bidder." And brought the gavel down sharply. "Next case please."

It took Carla several long seconds for his words to register. "I beg your pardon?"

"Slavery, Mrs. Beechum." The judge said gruffly. "Divorces are no longer granted in the United States, not to woman anyway. If a woman can no longer live with her husband, or rather, refuses to do so through divorce, she’s to be reclassified as a slave and after the proper training, sold."

Carla was stunned into momentary silence. "That’s outrageous." Finally finding her tongue. "Since when?" She wanted to know and looked from the judge to the attorney beside her.

"The law is the law, Mrs. Beechum and when it went into affect is of no concern to you now. You insisted on the divorce, against the advice of your attorney, I might add."

"My attorney said nothing of the kind!" Carla argued, looking to Trey. "You never mentioned anything about divorces not…"

A sudden slap sent Carla staggering backward and into another body, cutting her off in mid sentence. She didn’t bother to see who it was she’d bumped into. "I tried to warn you Carla." Trey said menacingly then yanked her up against his lean body. Big brown eyes stared up at him as Carla’s hand automatically touched her burning cheek. "I told you there were other ways of dealing with Robert’s affairs but no, you just had to have a divorce. You’d settle for nothing less!" He fairly shouted and shook her roughly in the process. Then he hauled her closer, up on her toes, his breath like steam on her still burning cheek. "I only wish this had been in effect when that bitch of a wife of mine divorced me and took every fuckin’ thing I had." Then shoved his client backwards into the waiting arms of two police officers.

"Judgment is final." Judge Ambrose proclaimed calmly and brought the gavel down again. "Officers, will you please remove this woman from my court? Bailiff, next case please."

And at that, Carla suddenly found herself being dragged from the room. By the time her wits had returned to put up a fight the two officers had handcuffed her hands behind her back, cuffed and chained her ankles to the cuffs at her hands, effectively hogtying her, and then gagged her. Within mere minutes she was literally thrown, face down into a windowless van and transported to this place.

Had that been only this morning? Carla had no idea how long she’d been chain to the wall. Long enough, she supposed, that her legs ached from their cramped position. She struggled to change that position but the sudden pain to her shoulders reminded her of the impossibility of doing so, even slightly. This can’t be happening! It’s a nightmare! A nightmare she felt Robert was responsible for, maybe to teach her a lesson. Robert Beechum hadn’t wanted the divorce, naturally. Not initially, anyway. Climbing the corporate ladder at Stockton, Gaines, and Phelan, a subsidiary of a Japanese marketing firm originally based in Tokyo, hadn’t been easy for the forty-year-old executive but having a young "trophy wife" had helped in some instances. The higher ups didn’t want single, unsettled men in their upper positions… no matter what their ages. They wanted married men, preferably with wives who were seen and not heard. Wives who looked good in the public eye, sleek, sexy, but ultimately knew their place. Unfortunately, Carla fit the bill in every aspect except for the last part, knowing her place. And when she caught her husband getting down and dirty with not one but two from the secretarial pool, the shit had certainly hit the fan. No, Robert didn’t want the divorce. It could be a disastrous move in the eyes of his superiors. Robert would do this to me just to force me to give up on the divorce, Carla reasoned. But it won’t work, she vowed and tried once again for a better position. Only the sound of jangling keys in her cell door prompted her to ignore the shock of pain shooting up her arms and shoulders.

"Up and at ‘em bitch." One of the guards said as he entered the cell and stalked over to release the chain from above Carla’s head. "You’ve got an appointment with Captain Harris and he doesn’t like being kept waiting."

"Nope, sure don’t." The other agreed as the two removed the metal cuffs from her wrists and ankles, the cloth gag from her mouth. "In fact it makes him kinda surly."

These were the same two guards who’d removed her from the van on her arrival. Her initial reaction was to shrink away from them and their massive appearance. They were both six feet in height if an inch and weighed well over two hundred pounds. Each was dressed in army fatigue pants and boots but wore black tee shirts that seemed to fit them like a second skin. They looked enormous with broad chests and shoulders, washboard stomachs, and muscles that rippled with every move. They looked like body builders with biceps that were bigger than Carla’s thighs. "There’s been a mistake." She croaked once the gag was removed. She rubbed her wrists vigorously where the metal cuffs had begun to chaff her skin. Pain shot through her lower legs as the numbness due to her previous position began to fade, changing to a burning, tingling sensation. "I don’t belong here."

"Just shut your fuckin’ mouth," snarled the first guard. Jerking her to her feet, he wrenched her right arm up behind her back and applied enough pressure to get her moving. "Whatever you’ve got to say is best left for the Captain and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut the fuck up and let him do the talkin’.

Carla cried out at the added pain to her arm and shoulder but did as the man said. At the moment she didn’t have much choice.

She was roughly escorted to another building and deposited directly before a man she assumed to be Harris. He too was dressed in fatigue pants and boots and sported the same black tee shirt. He wasn’t as big as the two apes on either side of her, but he was broad shouldered and muscled, looking to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties if the slight graying at the temples of his dark hair was any indication, and he was obviously in charge. At the moment, he was reclined in a chair behind his desk with his booted feet propped up on one corner. A file folder was spread out across his lap.

"Carla Diane Beechum," he said without taking his eyes from the folder and the first page held separately in his hand.

"Yes," Carla replied and yelped when a fist suddenly wound her shoulder length dark hair tight at the back of her head next to the skull.

The first guard shook her head roughly and yanked her head back to him as he spoke. "Yes, sir."

"Yes… sir," Carla repeated through clenched teeth.

The guard released her with a quick little shove.

Frank Harris continued his perusal of the information before him and finally looked at the young woman before him. Large dark eyes starred back at him. They looked like rich chocolate, boarding black, and right now they glittered with anger and indignation. Defiant eyes. He liked that. According to the information he had on her she was twenty-six years old, five foot three, and weighed one hundred and five pounds. His eyes slowly roamed her body. Small framed but well built. He liked that too. She had sable brown hair and wondered if it was her true color. He’d find out for sure in just a little bit. He looked at the papers again. According to that half-wit husband of hers she’s smart, cultured, demanding, fiercely independent, and excessively stubborn. Harris smiled grimly. He was counting on the latter. Robert Beechum hadn’t been able to handle his wife… but Captain Frank Harris could. "Welcome to the first day of your new life as a slave Carla," his smile revealing only slightly crooked teeth.

"I’m not a slave," she replied haughtily, "there’s been a mistake and I demand to be released from this camp immediately."

The first guard grabbed her again but his Captain waived him off, his smile broadening. "First of all Mrs. Beechum…"

"I’m no longer Mrs. Beechum." Carla interrupted.

Harris was a little taken aback by her unwavering, unconcerned, and unbelievably fearless tone but given the report he’d just read, not entirely surprised. This woman was used to having her way, period. He’d remedy her of that notion soon enough. Right now he inclined his head at her obvious offense in reference to her ex-husband. "All right, MS Beechum," granting her this one concession. "First of all, this is not the slave camp in which you’ve been sentenced to attend. This is more or less a holding center… a processing facility, if you will. We process and distribute to the various camps throughout the mid south, Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Arkansas and occasionally, Louisiana. And secondly, you are a slave," he said with emphasis. "You need to just accept that as fact."

"I will not accept it." Carla countered. "This is ridiculous. Slavery was abolished in this country over a hundred and thirty years ago."

"It’s been reinstated." Captain Harris said with a shrug as he pulled his feet back to the floor and straightened in his chair. Tossing the papers on his desk he continued. "A large group of men in this country got sick and tired of the women being allowed to file for divorce for any or no reason and then take off with everything they had. It’s a network, Carla, larger than you can possibly imagine. Many from the law enforcement community are behind it, city officials, doctors, lawyers, judges, congressmen, several senators, I know of at least half the governors in this country are involved. You name it and they’re most likely behind it… even the military," he grinned, "as you can see. It’s a countrywide organization."

"What of the females?" She asked, still unconvinced. "Are you telling me that the women in your law enforcement and judicial system, doctors, and what have you are behind this as well?"

Harris grinned. He had to hand it to her for thinking. "You probably haven’t noticed but we’ve just about weeded out most of the women in positions of power. We’ve been slowly eliminating them for a couple of years now. Those that are left can’t to do anything, even if they were a mind to. Most are in the same little boat you are. In any case… the laws were drawn up, voted on, signed, and finally put into motion. Slavery is alive and well Carla, and very strictly enforced."

Carla’s reaction to this was nonplused. For the first time since the start of this insanity… she felt an icy finger of uncertainty entering her bloodstream but refused to give into it. "I’ll appeal."

Harris shook his head. "There are no appeals."

"Every criminal is allowed an appeal!" She argued vehemently. "Several, in fact!"

"Criminals, yes, but you’re a slave… not a criminal. To begin with, the ACLU protects a criminal… making sure their civil rights are upheld. Unfortunately for you, slaves aren’t included in that protection because a slave has NO rights and NO say… therefore, they aren’t granted any of the appeals that are provided through the normal channels for a criminal. Now," Harris continued as though he’d been discussing the weather. "What I need from you right now is your signature, relinquishing all of your holdings, and then we can get you processed and on your way." Placing the papers in question on his desk and turning them toward her. "I’m sure The Grand Dragon has already been made aware of your impending arrival and there’s no sense in making the man wait." Then offered her his ink pen.

Carla woke from her obvious stupor. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your signature." Harris repeated and nudged the papers as though that explained it all. "Slaves aren’t allowed to own anything."

"I don’t understand."

Harris sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can’t own anything Carla. A slave is property herself so how can she in turn own something? Everything you were awarded in the divorce goes back to your husband, ex-husband." He amended. "And he can’t get that taken care of until I have your signature. Besides that, he’s getting remarried as soon as this goes through so he’s a bit anxious."

"I won’t sign it."

Harris felt a stirring in his groin. Now they were getting down to it. "You don’t have a choice."

"Remarried." Carla stated rather than asked as what he’d just said sunk in."

"That’s right." Harris confirmed evenly. "Your ex-husband plans to remarry as soon as possible. It’s best for his career."

Carla exploded as more uneasiness began to shimmy down her spine. "I have a choice Captain and I’m not signing anything over to that cheating bastard! And why am I the one sentenced to slavery? Why isn’t Robert a slave if divorce has been outlawed?"

"The law pertains to the women, not the husbands."

"But men file for divorce all the time!" Slamming her fist down on the desk and the two guards immediately took her in hand.

"For which they are allowed to do so." Harris said informatively and once again waved the two men aside. There’d be plenty of time for the rough stuff later. Right now he was just trying to make the woman see the helplessness of her situation. "If Robert had been the one to file the petition of divorce then the divorce would have been granted and the two of you would have gone your separate ways. Hell, you could have both remarried. But you filed, Carla, and that changed everything."

Carla was completely stunned. "You mean… you mean if Robert had instigated the divorce I’d be free to do whatever I wished… but because I filed for it… I’m sentenced to slavery?"

Harris grinned. "That’s right, now you’re getting it."

Again Carla was stunned. "That doesn’t make sense."

"Sure it does," Harris countered. "He’s allowed to divorce and you’re not. But… in order for him to get his assets back and remarry, we need your signature." Once again holding up his pen and nudging the papers closer to her.

Carla shook her head. "I won’t do it, no. I won’t sign it."

Harris’ cock swelled almost painfully as the blood pulsed through it. He’d been counting on this all along and now savored the victory. "Let me explain how this all works." He offered without hesitation. "A woman files for divorce which is now outlawed thereby sentencing her to a life of slavery. She’s immediately transported to a facility such as this one," opening his muscled arms to encompass the area around them. "And processed for camp. Getting this paper signed is our job." Including his guards in the group. "Courts have enough to deal with without this minor irritation so it’s up to the holding facilities to get it done. And we do what we have to do to get that done, MS Beechum." Giving her something else to think about. "Once the papers are signed the husband gets his assets back, free and clear, tax-free. In return, he relinquishes all claims to the woman and she’s sent to camp for training… paid for by private funding from the very men who developed and voted this all into effect. Once she’s fit for sale, she’s sold on the auction block to the highest bidder, which depending on the slave can be as high as say, two-hundred thousand. Then the money is divided… a third going to the courts, a third going back into the private funding, and then the rest goes back to the state where she was sentenced in the first place." Harris grinned and spread his big hands out. "Everybody comes away happy and winners all the way around."

"Everybody except for the women, of course." Carla pointed out.

Harris shrugged and sat back comfortably in his chair. "We can’t please everybody MS Beechum. But on the positive side… you wouldn’t believe what this arrangement has done for our City and State budgets. Why… we’ve just about wiped out every State’s deficits, built better roads, improved the schools. We’re making improvements in just about every facet, all over the country."

"I can’t believe this." Carla said quietly… more to herself than to anyone else. Robert, that snake… he knew about this all along. That’s why he didn’t contest the divorce. He didn’t really want one, but with the odds in his favor, why not? Everything he gets back is tax-free… and then just gets himself another wife. Just like that… wham, and it’s all done and with a big profit to boot. Wonder which secretarial bimbo he chose… or was there somebody else available to him all along and he was just fooling around with those two until this other could be taken care of? Until I… could be taken care of.

"Believe it." Harris goaded. "Now, as I said, I need that signature." Bringing Carla back to the original conversation. "Oh, and I need you to strip too." He added and quietly signaled his men to put them on alert.

Carla snapped out of her reverie. "I… I beg your pardon?"

Harris’s smile broadened further. Is that not the most haughty little saying ever brought into the English language and this little spitfire of a woman uses is so well. As a matter of fact, she has it down to a fine art. "Slaves aren’t allowed clothing either." He said straight-faced. "You’ll have to hand yours over as of right now. Maybe when you’ve been auctioned off… your new master will allow you to wear something, but I wouldn’t count on it."

Carla shook her head and started to back away but of course the two goons at her side stopped her retreat. "I’m not signing any paper and I’m not stripping!"

"Now, now…" Harris said with a deceptively soothing tone, "be nice and this’ll will all go a lot easier on you. And we can do it the easy way, with you cooperating, or the not so easy way, with my men doing it for you. In which case," he added and motioned to the guards, "you’re only prolonging the inevitable, but either way, the results are the same." Then sat back and replaced his booted feet to the corner of his desk to watch as Carla screamed and cursed, fighting much stronger hands that ripped and yanked and stripped her cleanly within a matter of seconds. Then with another quick jerk of the head, Harris ordered them to restrain her. He slowly rubbed his thickening cock and adjusted it for better comfort. Guess it’ll have to be the hard way. Oh well, let the games begin.

Carla couldn’t believe this was happening to her! She’d fought Harris’ two goons with everything she had but of course it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. And all she had to show for her efforts was a bruise, she was sure on the left side of her face where guard number one backhanded her for the bite mark she’d left on the back of his hand… and several other bruises on various parts of her body. She struggled even now, knowing the fruitlessness of the attempts but trying nonetheless. She spied and surveyed the hoisting/pulley system above her head and then the bar in which she was fastened to. The bar itself looked more like part of a rail used for descending outside steps. It was thick but hollowed out, round and the ends cut bluntly as though cut directly from the center of its former state. Chains were bolted through on either end from top to bottom and attached to them… additional chain with thick, black, dangling cuffs. Cuffs that were now buckled tightly around Carla’s wrists to hold her firmly in place.

She’d cursed the guards and Harris too so guard number two shoved a large black rubber ball between her teeth and fastened it tightly behind her head with the attached Velcro straps. The effect was immediate as the ball forced her mouth unreasonably wide, threatening to unhinge her jaw lock and at the same time, flattened her tongue to the bottom of her mouth, thereby silencing her to grunts and unintelligible mumbling. Carla shook her head to try and dislodge it… but even without the straps keeping it in place she wouldn’t have been able to push the ball back out without the aide of her fingers. And there was a heavy bar across her feet, spreading her legs the same as her arms and turning her into a human X. The only difference in this bar and the one above her head was the length. While the one that held her wrists captive at either end, this bar stuck out at least a foot passed the thick ropes that bound it to the front of her ankles to rest uncomfortably in the curve of ankle and foot. Once they had everything in place… then the chains were pulled through the pulley above and Carla was lifted completely off the floor. The only alternative left to her now was to hang motionless in the air and glare at her captors.

Frank Harris was enjoying himself immensely as he watched his newest victim fight and struggle against man and bondage. She was truly beautiful. Oh… not in the beauty queen sense of beauty, but physically and mentally and in her iron-willed determination not to accept her fate. God… he loved this job. She had the body of an athlete. There wasn’t an ounce of extra flesh on her anywhere, lean, firm, and pulled taut to expose the small ripple of muscle in her arms and legs. There was a strength about her that fascinated him. Her eyes fairly shot fire at him as temper and indignation claimed her. Her breasts, when not affected by the weight that now pulled at her, were perfectly formed, if a little small, maybe a C cup is she’s lucky but most likely a B, but firm with pert little dusky rose nipples. They rose and fell now in agitation. Again he rubbed the length of his swollen cock. Not yet boy, not just yet. He’d had his men secure her feet out of pure contrariness. She couldn’t have done anything but he wanted her helpless and he wanted her at his mercy. And above all else… he wanted her to know that he alone held her fate in his hands. He controlled her pain and suffering and only he could put an end to it. Robert Beechum could not control her but Frank Harris can, and will.

Too many times in the resent past he’d come in here and got the job done… applied the torture, listened to the screams, and accepted the complete submissions, one, two, three and it was done, the papers were signed. It’s been a long time since he’s had a women who challenged him both physically and mentally. He grinned now. He’d almost peed his pants when his little spitfire took a plug out of Morgan. She’d sunk in and held on like a little bulldog until Morgan finally had to use his other hand to backhand her and break the connection. It stunned her, buckled her knees in fact, but she came back fighting all the same. Only by a stroke of luck had he and Pierce managed to get her hands secured before she could light into Morgan again. He looked at the young women again. She still struggled… he could see it in the strain of the muscle in her arms that she was trying even yet to free herself. He’d let her hang there for a while, let gravity run its course and settle her down a bit… then he’d have his fun. And with that thought in mind, Frank Harris returned to the papers before him, studying not only Carla’s again, but also a few here now and several more that would be coming his way soon. The others that were here now though, were in holding cells just as Carla had been. They would keep until he’d had his fill here, or Carla broke, which ever came first. He hoped she was as strong as she appeared. He didn’t want this to end too soon.

Carla hung helplessly, suspended about a foot off the floor. Her arms and shoulders were beginning to ache and burn as they held her weight. She’d given into the pain and stopped her struggling attempts to free herself. All she was accomplishing was to increase her discomfort. Harris continued to sit across the room from her, his nose in the file before him. The bastard! He sat there in complete silence and watched her, ogled her body. Dark blue eyes had raked over her naked body with the same effect as if he’d reached out and touched her physically. Had this been anywhere else, under any other circumstances… she might have found those eyes and that face attractive, alluring. Right now her every thought of him turned to hate. No telling how many women he’s sent off to slave camps all over the South. And his goons, looking at the two guards who even now remained as sentinels on either side of the door as though she might somehow still escape. Morons. And I hope that bastard I bit loses his hand to gangrene. Carla winced as she unconsciously tried to change her position to relieve the strain in her arms and shoulders. It didn’t work. I’ll never sign those papers. Robert can burn in hell first… and Frank Harris right along side him.

Harris had had other things to go do, things to check on so he left the room without saying a word to either his captive or his men. Neither was going anywhere. He’d discovered long ago that Morgan and Pierce could stand guard for hours and never once move a muscle. They were at ease… as far as that went, but they still remained rigid and alert even in a relaxed state. One of these days he was gonna see just how long they could last without being relieved. Upon re-entering the room the first thing he did was check to see how Carla was fairing. Her chin was resting down toward her chest. She’d stopped struggling, he noticed. Right now he was pretty sure the pain in her shoulders was taking its toll. He’d purposely left her in this condition for the past two hours to settle her down and it looks as though his planned had worked. Out of curiosity he wondered if this one little act was all it’d take to make her sign those papers. He doubted it but he’d check anyway. He’d had at least one slave give in this soon. "Well MS Beechum, what will it be?" He asked, hitching one hip on the corner of his desk and folding his hands across his lap. "Are you ready to sign the papers that gives all your holdings back to your ex-husband or do you wish to continue with this stubborn attitude of yours?"

Carla raised her head slowly. Just that little act caused pain in her shoulders. It felt like a hot poker smoldered in the joints, but she pushed the pain aside and looked her tormentor in the eye and let her own do the talking.

Well of course not, Harris observed. He could tell just the minute she raised those dark eyes to his that they held as much defiance in them now as they did the moment she’d been ushered into his office. He liked that. He could be as sadistic as the next bastard… and he could have forced her to bend to his will within ten minutes of meeting her… but he wanted this. He wanted to have fun. He wanted to see just how much this little spitfire of a bitch could and would take. He nodded to Morgan who opened the door to allow another man into the room. "This is Yuri." Harris said as his eyes locked with Carla’s once again. "I’d tell you his full name but it’s longer than your leg and you won’t remember it anyway. Yuri is all you need to know. As you can see, Yuri is of Chinese decent and I can tell you first hand that because of that fact alone, he’s very good at what he does."

Carla eyed the man carefully. He was small, maybe five feet or so in height, and probably weighed less than she did. She wasn’t really good at judging a persons age, especially one of another race and culture. Some races held a timeless look about them making it much more difficult to judge than most Americans. Age to some races was nothing more than a passing thought in the mind. This man could have been thirty or he could have been eighty. She had no way of knowing and right now he stood off to the side of her, a long pole in hand, maybe six feet in length, and silently waited for whatever instructions Harris would give him. Whatever he was about to do to her… she doubted she’d give a damn about his age or appreciate his talents either.

Harris never made a sound, just looked at the little man.

Almost immediately Yuri took a stance just to the side and behind the suspended woman and with both hands gripping the long greenish pole made of a hard but flexible plastic, brought it back in a high arc then whipped it around to slap across the bottom crease of her butt cheeks, exactly where ass and thigh joined as one. Because there’d been no warning, Carla’s head snapped backward, a surprised gasp emitting out through her nose. Her eyes were huge as she identified Yuri’s presence as the obvious source of the burning line just below her cheeks. It felt as though someone had hit her with a heated cord. And just as the fire from the first trail was beginning to recede, the little man wielded the pole again, this time bringing it around the front of her body to connect sharply across her left thigh. Carla’s body jerked and her hands fisted to pull against the cuffs. ONNIFF! More groan than anything else but it was the best she could do with the gag prohibiting her speech. Another strike immediately followed, this time straight across her lower back. MMMMONIFFF! Came the muffled cry, higher-pitched this time, more panicked. Carla’s struggles now returned with a vengeance.

Harris watched as the Chinaman caned Carla expertly. He wasn’t giving her the full measure of his strength or even a tenth of the pain he could disperse as he wielded the slim plastic reed. Carla would feel pain nonetheless… a burning, searing pain that would leave red welts but without breaking the skin open. WHACK! ONNIFF! Waiting then… WHACK! ONNNIFFF! And WHACK, WHACK! Followed by Carla’s immediate wail of GONNNONNIFF! Frank felt his cock harden further as Yuri delivered blow after blow… first to Carla’s abdomen just above the cunt hair then making her wait for the next one that landed across the top of her right tit, then two consecutive hits at the back of the right knee and the inner left thigh. Her body jerked with each contact made and she continued to struggle, despite, he knew… the pain in her upper arms and shoulders. She wouldn’t give in, not without a fight. She was grunting and groaning, sometimes more high-pitched than others… but she wasn’t screaming. It was a testament to both her endurance and Yuri’s expert handling of the cane. The man was phenomenal. He could leave any mark he wished and in the exact place he intended to leave it. He could raise a simple welt that would vanish by morning, or cut the victim to ribbons. WHACK! Another hit to the back of the left thigh and before Carla could even voice her pain… WHACK, a direct hit to the tender underside of her right tit. GOMMNNONIFF!!!! The unintelligible rambling came in the clearest form of a scream yet, not quite, but close. Harris’ cock felt ready to explode from the want and need of her. I’m gonna have to fuck her and soon. Carla had only received nine of the thirty strokes he’d ordered for her. He didn’t know if he could last that long or not.

The caning continued for what seemed to Carla, a lifetime. She fought her bonds and tried vainly to twist away from Yuri as he continued to wield the thin plastic tubing, rod, pole, whatever it was he held in his hands to hit her with. The bars she was bound to prevented every attempt to help herself and the pain it caused even attempting it should have been enough deterrent, but it wasn’t. She’d tried not to cry out but every sound she made was made involuntarily. The first strike, forced the air from her lungs as she was taken completely by surprise. Most sounds after that was grunts and groans and impact noises. She didn’t want to scream… but the searing pain each strike left on her body was making that more and more difficult to accomplish. She didn’t know how many times she’d been hit having failed to count but she prayed it wouldn’t last much longer. Her body felt as though every lick made was the lick of fire… a slow burning flame that continued long after the ignition. WHACK! Another blow sliced across her right nipple causing a flash of light to burst inside her head. Carla could do little more than wail as her head fell back on her shoulders. Beads of sweat popped out across her forehead as the pain shot through the entire tit, thrumming, then reverberating through the rest of her system. She prayed for darkness to take her… anything to stop the pain. Darkness never came though and the caning continued.

Harris watched intently as Carla struggled. Every contact made by the cane left a decidedly painful mark. They were beginning to crisscross the delicate lines and curves of her body. While none would permanently mar her, he knew she felt the fire-like streak each left in its wake, and that pleased him immensely. He could break her right now with just one word to Yuri if he truly wanted to… but then the game would be over and he wasn’t ready for that. He wanted her to suffer, maybe by degrees as he doled it out. He wanted to hear her screams and eventually listen to her beg pitifully for his mercy. He shrugged to himself with that thought… Frank Harris had no mercy to give but she wouldn’t know that. Yet. Sadistic? Yes, he admitted with candor… he was indeed sadistic. And soon, very soon in fact, little Carla would realize it too.

Captain Harris stood before Carla soon after the last searing pain of the cane fell across her midriff. She was breathing hard but wasn’t pleading with him through the gag. She no longer struggled but hung rather limply… watching him closely, defiantly. Yes, bless her stubborn little heart, she’s still as defiant as ever! He knew deep down in his gut that she was about to refuse him yet again. He was banking on it. He walked around her, examining her helpless form. She looked like a human road map with all the roads leading to everywhere and nowhere. Yuri had held back, yes, but he’d made certain to reach all the sensitive areas… the tits, the inner thighs, behind the knees, her pussy. Harris grinned as he recalled the shear look of shock when the cane suddenly sliced upward, catching her between the legs. She bucked and snorted like a wild bronco… the corded muscles in her arms and legs constricting with an effort to pull back, escape. Yuri was relentless though and hit her three consecutive times in the same general area and Carla had cried out as best she could around that ball gag. Jesus, he loved it. Her lily-white ass cheeks had several good welts, raised and burning still he was sure. She had the nicest ass of any woman he knew and he knew several. Her globes were formed tight and muscled and well rounded. When he fucked her… that’s the place he’d be, right between those well-formed little cheeks.

Standing before her once again Harris reached out and trailed one long finger down the center of her right tit, lightly scraping the swollen, reddened nipple. Yuri had caught this nipple at least twice… the welts still marking his track. Carla didn’t move, didn’t even flinch as Harris took the nipple between his thumb and forefinger to roll and tug it, pinching it with just enough pressure. The look in her eyes said it all… she despised him. He liked that. He wanted her fire, her wrath. He changed to the other nipple and continued the same ministrations. Both puckered into tight little buds, throbbing between his fingers, just begging for more attention. He returned her look as he asked her quietly, "What about it Carla, ready to sign those papers for me yet?"

She remained perfectly still… and stubbornly silent.

He grinned. "You know, I didn’t allow Yuri the power he has in wielding that cane." Speaking low for her ears only. "I purposely had him hold back… to just give you a little taste of what he can do with that thing." Then he bent his head forward and took one tight little bud into his mouth, sucked hard then caught it roughly between his teeth.

Carla winced sharply and sucked air into her lungs but otherwise tried to remain quiet.

Harris continued. "He gave you one tiny little sample of his ability. I’ve seen him actually flay the skin right off a woman’s ass before, little strips at a time. Ah," he said and took her other nipple into his mouth before finishing the sentence, sucked it long and hard, bit it teasingly. "The screams were almost unbearable for me to listen to." Now his eyes glittered as they returned to look into hers deeply. "Almost." Taking hold of both nipples between his thumbs and forefingers Harris tugged and pinched her again, this time, stretching her out and causing her to cry out. "Which will it be cunt, sign the papers… or do we go on to the next level?"

Carla remained stubbornly silent.

"You’ll answer me." Harris demanded and twisted the nipples he still tormented.

Carla’s head snapped back and she groaned then gave one quick shake of her head and a negative sound in her voice.

"No?" He asked, delight rushing through his veins like water down a drain spout. "Are you sure? Because there’s really no end to the pain I can cause you." He warned with challenge in his voice. "The endless suffering. Do you really want to go through all that just to keep your ex from getting his due?"

Fire shot out of Carla’s eyes like sparks spraying from a campfire. Again she repeated her answer.

Harris shrugged, "Suit yourself," and once again strolled around behind her to withdraw a coat hanger that apparently had been hanging on the wall.

At first Carla thought he meant to hit her with it like she’d seen in the movies when pimps needed to punish their prostitutes. But then she realized it wasn’t the same type of hanger. This one was made of very thick plastic but with a metal, swivel hook, and unmovable clips on either end for hanging skirts and pants and the like.

Harris grinned at her, watching her eyes, searching her expression for the moment of enlightenment. The moment he opened the first clip and brought it closer to her, he saw it. That spark of knowledge… that sense of what was about to happen. And before she could utter a sound, he pulled the first hard nipple out, stretching it out as far as possible and released the clip over it.

Carla watched in fascination and complete bewilderment as her nipple was drawn out away from her body then realized too late what was going to happen. Harris turned loose of the clamp and the vice-like grip popped painfully into place at the base of her nipple. A burst of pain engulfed her, taking her breath away. Her head jerked back as an agonizing groan erupted up through her throat, hoarse and guttural. Bright colors danced before her eyes as they shuttered closed trying to block out the pain. It didn’t work. And while the pain still remained unbearable and acute, Harris clipped the second nipple as well. With fists tightly closed and her body jerking violently, Carla tried desperately to free herself, screaming out from around the gag. She stared at her tortured nipples, squashed completely flat by the viciously tight clamps. She shook one way and then the other, her body twisting fruitlessly in an attempt to shake the hanger free. It clung like a snapping turtle, moving along with her, the thick, heavy plastic bobbing up and down and causing even more pain. The action brought with it another shock of pain between her shoulders and around the joints, slamming hatefully into the pain assaulting her nipples. She screamed out again and again, frantic to rid herself of this new malady, afraid it was actually going to severe her nipples from her breasts but afraid of the constant pain to her arms too. Nothing she tried worked and the pain went on and on. She could feel ever beat of her heart inside her tits and the horrible burning that now followed. And her struggling did little to help the situation. Her eyes shot to Harris’ who watched with total satisfaction. Shaking her head she screamed at him… UNNNNN NUNNNNN UNN!!!!!!

His smile was oily, vicious, and completely evil. "You made your choice sweetheart. Now you’ll just have to live with it, but know this," taking hold of her chin and forcing her gaze to his, "I will get that signature, eventually. How long it takes and how much pain you wish to suffer first is strictly up to you… but I will get it in the long run." Then turned her loose and walked away.

Carla continued to groan and yell and speak unintelligible words through the gag… but her noises fell on deaf ears.

He left her to both contemplate her situation and suffer this newest onslaught of pain. Harris left the room but stood unobserved from another vantage point and continued to watch Carla fight and struggle. He shook his head. She was doing her damnedest to dislodge the painful clothes hanger. Every woman he’d ever clipped it to, had virtually the same reaction… the initial response to shake it free of her tits. He smiled with pleasure. There were plenty of nipple clamps on the market… some that were made of heavy duty metal, some with serrated teeth that bit into the nipple and held on, still others that screwed down, locked, or just plain annoyed… but the thick plastic clothes hanger found in any department store had quickly become his favorite in tit torture. The clamps on either end were especially unforgiving, mashing the nipple flat. And the hanger itself was weighted to an extent, but still light enough to bounce, thereby causing additional pain, when the wearer moved about as Carla did now. Then there was the swivel hanger itself that could be turned up so that weights could be added, or turned upward and tied off forcing the tortured nipples to be pulled higher and higher. Either way spelled pain to the bearer and that was his greatest satisfaction. After all, pain was his main goal… wasn’t it?

He watched for a long time… almost entranced at Carla’s efforts. Every move, every bounce, every attempt only served to cause more pain. And just like all the rest she was too stupid to realize it, at least for a while. Sooner or later it would come to her as to what she was doing. That was the thing about women though. They were all too stupid for their own good. This one though… she had the tenacity of a bulldog. God knows she’s as stubborn as one. But all in all… it’s why women needed men to keep them in line. It’s why they needed to be mastered at every turn. It’s why it had been so easy to get this new law enacted. Women were just naturally stupid, trusting, naive creatures. He shrugged… such is life.

Carla stopped her movements. All she was doing was making things worse. Her shoulders ached with an unbearable fierceness. A burning pain down her arms told her she’d been suspended too long already and any struggle would likely cause damage. God… how long have I been in this position? Hours, she was sure of it. I can’t give into this. If I give in I’m doomed. As long as I fight that bastard I have a chance. One chance… for escape… that’s all I need, just one. Give in though, and it’s all over. The pain, though, it was hard to concentrate on anything else but the pain. At the moment, all she could think about was how much her shoulders hurt and the goddamn throbbing in her nipples.

When Harris returned, Carla’s chin rested in the vicinity of her chest. He knew the pull on her arms must have been unbearable. Her weight, along with the weighted bar tied to her ankles were taking their toll. He’d allowed her another half hour… brining her time here in this room at just under four hours. She hurt, yes, but she wasn’t screaming. She wasn’t begging him, even through the gag to stop this. Oh… he could have brought that all about much sooner but up until now he’d only been toying with her. Stringing her along, adding only mild discomfort as he went along. Now though, he wanted her screaming. He wanted her to see just what he was capable of and realize she was completely at his mercy. What he was likely to continue as long as she stubbornly held out. That fuckin’ pussy she’d been married to, he thought disgustedly, there’s no way that idiot bastard could have handled her. No, way. "Morgan," He said of a sudden and the guard nearly snapped to attention. "Send for Helga."

"Yes, sir." The man answered and left the room immediately.

Carla heard, but didn’t raise her head to acknowledge that anything had even been said.

Harris took his seat once again, eyeing her from time to time. There were several things he could do to her at the moment, but none near as painful as Helga’s little ministrations. He smiled to himself with anticipation. This was likely to get interesting to say the least.

Helga arrived just moments later it seemed to Carla. Harris didn’t say a word to the woman, just motioned her toward Carla. She was a tall, robust looking woman, her age somewhere around fifty. She had the blond hair and blue eyes of the heritage her name suggested and would prove later, the accent that went along with it. She carried a black bag with her, sort of medical looking, like those seen on TV shows, but only about half as big, a small folding table, and a small stool. Without a word to anyone, the woman approached Carla, stopping just in front of her and began setting up shop.

What now? Carla wondered as she took note of the items the woman retrieved from the bag. There looked to be a small pot of some kind with a cord attached. She quickly added an extension cord and plugged it into the nearest wall socket then came back to her little bag of goodies. White strips of something. Material? White cloth? Carla couldn’t see it well enough to be sure. Cotton balls, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what appeared to be either a small tongue depressor or a used Popsicle stick, she wasn’t sure.

"Let me introduce you to Helga." Captain Harris said without getting up from behind his desk. "Helga is kind of our jack of all trades. She does the laundry, helps out in the kitchen, and does most of the grooming of the slaves that pass through here. That little bush you’ve got sweetheart," Motioning with his eyes between Carla’s legs, "is lovely, but it has to go." Grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Carla felt her face flush red. It was bad enough to be spread out here, naked for the whole world to see, but to talk about her in such a way! Then adding salt to the wound… he’d actually brought this woman in to shave her?

Harris laughed out right. "That’s an interesting color of red you got going there babe. You sure you’ve been married before?" Looking to the guards who saw the humor in his words as well he said, "It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a grown woman blush like that. Actually," he quickly amended, "I don’t think I’ve ever seen a grown woman blush like that."

Carla blushed even more.

"Damn." Is all Harris could think to say to that, shook his head and went on with his explanation. "Not only are slaves not allowed clothing… they can’t possess any body hair either. Well, except for that on your head of course. It’ll be best to go ahead and get rid of the cunt hair though, before making contact with The Grand Dragon. And Helga is gonna help you with that." He supplied with another grin. One that held little humor. "Aren’t you Helga?"

"That I am, sir."

Carla eyed the items Helga had set out again. It took her a second or two to realize… she wasn’t about to be shaved, as first suspected… but waxed! Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes shot to Harris’.

"That’s right." He said in answer to her unspoken question.

Carla shook her head and once again fisted her hands impotently.

"Oh yes." He assured her with the satisfaction of knowing that she now realized what this little demonstration detailed. "And I’m afraid it’s gonna be rather painful for you. Helga, how long do you think her grooming will take to accomplish?"

"You want legs too?" She inquired without looking up from her supplies.

"Just the cunt, for now."

"Hmm," was all she said as she looked Carla’s body over carefully, "a good job will take me most of an hour."

Carla yelled out from around her gag, shaking her head negatively. She could do little else.

Harris grinned. "I want a very good job Helga. The longer it takes, the better. Clear?"

"Very clear, sir." She assured him and checked her heating wax.

The wax wasn’t quite ready yet so Carla had plenty of time to contemplate what she was about to be subjected to. She waxed her eyebrows and that was about all she could stand. Waxing was something she’d tried one time… once, on the lower part of her leg along the shin. That one vicious rip of the wax was enough to tell her she’d never do it again and most especially along her bikini line. She’d wondered how anybody could stand just having the hair ripped from his or her body in such a manner and especially somewhere as sensitive as the bikini line. No, it just wasn’t for her and she’d reasoned that shaving accomplishes the same smooth effect without the pain, so in her opinion there had been no contest. She was working as a receptionist for Dr. Lymon at the time and remembered a co-worker, Angie, who’d said that waxing lasted so much longer than just shaving. Carla didn’t care if it lasted a full year before needing to be repeated… she’d vowed to just stick with the less painful way of dealing with body hair. And now she was about to have more than just her bikini line done! God help me.

Frank Harris felt himself harden to the point of pain just thinking of the reaction that would follow when Helga began stripping bits of hair from Carla’s cunt. This ought to make the bitch sit up and take notice. She’ll understand once and for all this ain’t no game and I ain’t that pussy-whipped husband of hers. She may be used to getting her way in most things, but this is Frank Harris she’s facing now, not that gutless wonder she’d been married to. I’m the man around here and the sooner she gets that shit through her head the better. He rubbed his hard cock, squeezing it through his fatigues trying to alleviate some of the pent-up pressure. Then she’ll sign the paper and I can fuck her brains out. His attention wandered to his guards Morgan and Pierce. They too were anticipating this newest form of torture, observing the obvious bulges in their pants. He grinned and returned his gaze to the woman suspended spread eagle across the room from him. Yes, we’ll all enjoy this newest spectacle.

Helga positioned her stool just so to bring herself into better contact with her subject. Carla tensed immediately… knowing this was about to begin. God… please. Helga dipped the wooden applicator into the hot wax, satisfied of the consistency. The honey colored liquid coated the tip of the stick and applying it to the top of the pubic area, Helga drew a thin line about two inches long. Using the tip of the stick, she carefully separated the hair so that a very thin line was now all that appeared wet, involving just a minute group of hairs awaiting its strip of cloth. Then applying one of the cloth strips, she pressed it firmly into place, rubbed it firmly and waited, one second, two seconds, three, four, and five. Then gripping one end of the cloth, she pulled it with one sharp but steady motion.

A half a second passed then a muffled, agonizing scream erupted from behind her gag. Carla’s head snapped back and her body jerked in quick spasms as a burning pain ripped through her pubic area. Tears sprang to her dark eyes and spilled forth of their own volition. Her shoulders were wrenched viciously at the sudden movement forcing her to acknowledge both that pain along this new pain. Had she been able, she would have drawn her feet up closer to her body for protection. Now she understood better than ever the reason for the heavy metal bar tied to her feet. She then watched helplessly as Helga dipped the sick into the hot liquid again and began to apply the next application. Taking a deep breath she felt the wax glide on another two-inch section, felt the sticky, separation of hair and the cloth laid upon it. Helga once again applied the cloth, pressed and rubbed it firmly, waited one second, two seconds, three, four, and five… then proceeded to rip the cloth from her body. The removal was quick enough to accomplish the deed, but still done slow enough to cause more pain than necessary. A burning fire sparked to life in Carla’s pubis and engulfed her quickly, causing another gut wrenching but muffled scream. Hands opened and fisted, jerking at the bonds that held them, straining for freedom as more unintelligible sounds made it past the gag. UNNNUNNMMMM OHHHHHNUUNNNNNM!!!!!!

Harris watched in mute contentment as strip after strip of hair was slowly and methodically removed from Carla’s nether region. Time, it would seem, had come to a complete stand still marking every second of undiluted agony she suffered as a result. He felt the blood roaring through his veins, seizing him, enveloping him with an excitement that threatened to explode as her athletic body twitched and arched in spasms of pain. Her breasts rose and fell, quivering as the nipples hardened against the clamps of the hanger despite the unreasonable pressure. Tears flowed easily down her cheeks, muscles bunched as she fought against her restraints, and muffled screams reverberated off the walls around him. The area of pussy already cleaned and smooth was red and puffy from both the treatment of hot wax and the fact all the hair had been ripped away so viciously. Beads of sweat quickly popped out along Carla’s forehead and upper lip then eventually glistened across her chest and along her stomach. He could tell from the tone of her voice and the pitch of the screams that she was begging Helga to stop. UNNN NNUUNNNIMMM!!!! UNNN NNUUNNNIIIMMMM!!!! She’d scream out over and over, shaking her head or just allowing it to fall back on her shoulders, panting and groaning with every breath as Helga seemed completely oblivious to her and repeated the same steps as before. He particularly enjoyed watching the clothes hanger bounce up and down with every move the bitch made. It excited him to no end… this new pain, but she was begging Helga, not him. Damn her. Aggravated, he got up and left the room.

God… please get this over with! The prayer becoming an obsession. Carla had never in her life felt the kind of pain such as what she was being forced to endure right now. No amount of screaming and begging made the slightest difference to Helga. No amount of tears seemed to move this woman in the least bit. Was she even human? She slowly and methodically went about her work as though nothing out of the ordinary was taking place. Carla, on the other hand, was plummeting with pain and fatigue. She’d been suspended for hours now, her arms aching with unreasonable intensity in the sockets and down her limbs. Her hands were numb and her arms burned fiercely. All her weight was centered in her arms and shoulders, yes, but even her rib cage seemed affected. Her tits still hurt although mercifully the throbbing had dulled like that of a sickening toothache rather than the burning they had once experienced. Her legs, especially around the thigh area were tired from the constant spread sustained because of the bar at her feet. And Carla had struggled as much as her restraints and the pain to her upper body would allow but in the end, nothing was enough to help her escape the torture. All she could do was hang helplessly and scream out and even that was distorted because of the gag. And as Helga once again took a strip of hair from her most sensitive area, a slow burning but all consuming rage ignited and took hold of Carla. Suddenly any and all sense she might have possessed disintegrated, leaving her wicked and unnecessarily brave… uncommonly bold, fearless, and disassociated with the consequences of her actions. And the longer this continued the more enraged she became. An eruption unlike anything she’d ever experienced was boiling, churning, and ready to spew at the first opportunity to vent itself.

Pacing the outer office, Harris was the first to admit this woman perplexed him. She was an enigma, a paradox. She wasn’t cooperating anything at all like he’d expected. Yes, she was in pain. Yes, she was screaming and begging… but not to him. She acted as though he was nothing and certainly not the one in charge. And damnit, he is in charge! He’s the one who has put her in the situation she’s in. Well, perhaps that wasn’t exactly correct, he quickly amended. That fucker she was married to and the courts put her in this situation. Her own stubbornness put her in this situation. But Captain Frank Harris is who had her stripped, suspended spread-eagle, and beaten. Damnit, he’s the one responsible for the torment she’s going through right now… not Helga! Helga’s nothing but a messenger! His puppet! Helga does what she’s told to do! Therefore, wouldn’t you figure that he’d be the one the bitch would turn to for mercy? Wouldn’t you think he’d be the one she begged and pleaded with? Fuckin’ women! He stormed, pacing furiously as he listened to Carla continue to plead, even through the closed door. They never make any sense. They don’t have a clue as to how to follow the rules! Shit, all they’re good for is fuckin and cookin’ and this is why, because they don’t fuckin’ follow rules! She will though. Taking a deep, calming breath. He smiled at the alternatives. Even if I have to have ever inch of hide stripped off her… she’s gonna follow the rules and she’s gonna know who’s in charge. She’s gonna goddamn turn to me. Me, goddamnit, Frank Harris, for whatever favors she might come into. Setting his mind with determination. She’s gonna fuckin’ learn once and for all that I’m the one that holds her fate at the moment. I decide if… and when she’s shown any mercy… not Helga, not the guards, not another fuckin’ soul in this whole goddamn complex… just me, good old Frank Harris.

Helga was finally finished. Carla hung limply… every ounce of weight concentrated in the cuffs that bound her wrists, torturing her shoulders. She felt like she was being choked, suffocated slowly by small degrees. There wasn’t any part of her body that didn’t ache, begging for release and her sudden listlessness only worsened the effects. She’d fought and strained so much while Helga yanked every last hair from her mound that exhaustion now consumed her. Tears continued to leak through her long thick lashes and her breaths were still coming out in little pants but every ounce of energy she’d had was gone, evaporated like so much mist in the early morning sun. Then Helga did the unthinkable. She doused several balls of cotton with the rubbing alcohol and roughly cleansed the swollen bare mound. Carla’s air was sucked in sharply as a white-hot flame of heat saturated the already tortured skin like battery acid. Her scream was shrill like that of a small, wounded animal and more tears slid down her face. No more… no more, please God, no more of this!

Harris was elated with this new sight before him… this new, seemingly beaten Carla with her head down, her body limp and covered with sweat, her obstinacies finally in hand, controlled by him and him alone. He’d watched, truly enthralled as Helga added this one last painful touch to the work she so prided herself on. He cringed slightly, just imagining the horrible burning Carla must have experienced as the alcohol seeped into the raw pores of her now naked pussy. He cringed… but God, how it excited him too. Where was the defiance now? Where was that haughty little tone in her voice when questioning the system, questioning him? Where was that snotty little attitude? She was his now. His to force into submission. His to do with as he pleased until time to ship her off to The Grand Dragon. "What’ll it be Carla?" Frank Harris asked her as his right hand stroked the now smooth area between her legs. "Ready to cooperate with me?"

Carla said nothing, made no sound whatsoever as she lifted her eyes to this man she’d come to despise. She could barely see him through the tears but the look she gave him was cold, calculating.

Harris took note of the defiance that still remained in the dark gaze directed at him. His dick hardened all the more even as his temper flared. He’d misread her damnit and he didn’t like knowing that. Without a word or even a hint of what he was about to do he reached up and released the clips of the clothes hanger still clamped to Carla’s nipples.

At first there was no reaction. Then the blood suddenly poured back into the nipples that had been pressed flat, the flow restricted for so long, and an incredible pain shot through her tits. Hot tears flooded her eyes again to squirt out from between her lashes and a low wail rose up from deep in her throat. After enduring the suspension for hours, Carla could do little else but hang there and endure even more treacherous pain from the sadistic bastard before her.

When he figured the pain had finally subsided, Harris tweaked her soar nipples then ruthlessly reached between her legs, ramming two long fingers deep inside her. He grinned as Carla jerked and gasped at this sudden intrusion of her body. "You’re wet." He taunted with satisfaction in his voice. "Tell me cunt, was it the beating, torturing these ripe nipples, or having that pussy ripped clean that did it for you? Or do you just get off on being at the mercy of some man in general making your suspension and me the culprit? Remove her gag." He ordered one of the guards without taking his eyes off his victim… a contemptuous grin gracing his face.

Without a word the deed was done.

"That it cunt?" Harris continued. "You like being used and abused?" Thrusting his fingers even deeper into her pussy. "Like having a real man for a change? Think you’d care to have a real man between your legs, fucking that cunt until you scream?"

Carla had to open and closed her mouth, working her jaws after having them forced open for so long. They ached just like everything else ached on her body at the moment. Having this creep even in close proximity, let alone touching her was revolting. And right now, all she wanted was to wipe that smile off the bastard’s face. So much so that common sense more or less flew out the nearest window as she said, "Go fuck yourself dickhead. Maybe when I find a real man, I’ll point him out to you. And you can take that fuckin’ paper you want signed and shove it up you ass while you’re at it."

The look on Harris’ face would have been down right comical had it not been for the seriousness of the situation. His lips compressed into a forbidding straight line, almost disappearing from sight completely. His face reddened to the likeness of a Washington State apple, the veins in his neck and along his temples stood out to the point of bursting, his eyes… dark as storm clouds. If one looked real closely, one might even see smoke actually seep from his ears. He looked completely dumbstruck as a slight snicker erupted from Pierce but was quickly concealed when he turned that gaze on the guard. After all his trouble… after all his time he’d spent playing with this little bitch, dishing out just enough pain to keep her in line, teasing her along with what could happen if not for his thoughtfulness, his restraint, his control! And instead of gratefulness, instead of submissiveness, he was being subjected to enough venom to be classified as dangerous. This… this haughty little bitch! She was like no other woman he’d ever dealt with under the circumstances! "Get her on her knees!" He ordered through gritted teeth. "NOW!" He snarled at the two guards. "Get her on her fuckin’ knees and her arms in ropes, tight! Leave the bar at her ankles!"

"Yes sir!" The two answered in unison and quickly set to work.

Morgan reached back and snagged a hemp rope from the wall nearby as Pierce lowered Carla so that her feet touched the floor. Once her wrists were set free from the cuffs and the overhead bar she was shoved roughly to her knees, her feet still hobbled. Morgan took note that Harris was already unbuckling his belt, unzipping his fatigues, but said nothing as he yanked Carla’s hands behind her back and wrapped them tightly with the rope. Uh oh… here it comes, he thought grimly. He’s never seen his Captain quite so enraged… not because of any woman, a slave. And it isn’t like she doesn’t deserve whatever she gets after mouthing off like she did, considering thoughtfully. He only hoped the man remembered that this one was likely to bring a pretty penny, but only if she remained undamaged. A damaged slave wasn’t any damn good for anybody. When he finished tying her securely, Morgan reached and snagged a second rope and repeated the procedure on her upper arms just above the elbows. The lady was definitely in for a painful time.

Carla winced and tried not to cry out as her wrists were forced together behind her back and tied so tightly. She hadn’t given them any trouble because her arms were still too dead from being suspended for so long… they were useless to her. Then to make things even worse, another rope was added to her upper arms. The guards pulled that rope extremely tight bringing her elbows as close together as possible and nearly wrenching her arms from their sockets. It made it impossible to keep quiet but she gave it her best effort actually biting her lip until it bled. She knew she’d pushed Harris to the brink but she just couldn’t help herself. Now, though, she knew he wouldn’t quit until he got what he wanted from her, mainly that damn paper signed handing everything back over to Robert. Harris was going to rape her, of that she was certain. He was so furious now he was nearly tearing his clothes off, getting ready for her. She closed her eyes to the sight of him. His cock was huge. He’d hurt her, of that she was also certain. All she could do was endure it and go on. As for the paper… she’d hold out as long as possible, making him work for it all the more, but in the long run she knew she was probably beaten.

"That’s it." Harris said as Carla’s arms were painfully secured. "Now thread another rope through and throw it over the rafter… get her arms up. I want her bent over."

Carla cried out as Morgan and Pierce followed his orders to a T. Within seconds, another rope had been laced through the ropes around her wrists and tossed over the rafter overhead. Then they hoisted her hands up behind her, forcing her to been over while on her knees. Her upper arms and shoulders had begun tingling and burning as the circulation slowly returned after the lengthy suspension, but that quickly died with a vengeance as her bound wrists were now forced higher and higher.

Harris took up his position between her widely spread feet, stepping on the bar to make sure she couldn’t squirm away from him. He quickly grabbed a handful of hair, wrapping it tightly near the scalp and snatching her head back toward him. "Want me to fuck myself, huh?" He snarled close to her ear. "How about I just fuck you?" He taunted and shook her head roughly.

Carla cried out again as having her head yanked backward worked in conjunction with her arms being forced up behind her, the pain shooting through her like white heat. From her position on the floor she could do little else.

"You and that fuckin’ smart mouth." Shaking her head again. "I got your real man right here sweetheart. Right… here." He repeated and pressed his throbbing cock against her ass cheeks. "Not so mouthy now though, huh?"

Carla tried to struggle free but the searing pain in her arms was too intense. It felt like someone was severing the tendons with a red-hot poker! Morgan or Pierce was applying too much pressure and she just couldn’t bear much more. She feared that any movement at all on her part might snap the bones in her arms completely. But… God, this maniac was shoving the bulbous head of his cock into her anus and there was nothing, nothing she could do to stop him! Then a shrill scream rent the air. "No! No, please!" She cried out, hardly even recognized the voice she heard as her own.

"Oh yeah." Harris said on a chuckle as his knees came between Carla’s and forced her even wider apart. "Yeah babe. You wanted a real man, well I’m right here, r…r…r…right here." Finally breaching her tight sphincter then shoving in deep.

"AARRGGHAAH!!! No!" Carla screamed and once again tried in vain to struggle free… her movements practically involuntary, her tears blinding. "No! S…stop, please! God get it out, I can’t stand it! Please! Just get it out!" Sobbing as the pain increased with every inch Harris shoved inside her anal cavity.

"Uh uh, don’t let her move." He instructed the guards. "Pull her arms up some more, I want her immobile. You’re gonna take it." He assured Carla almost in the same breath and shoved in deeper. "You bet you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna take all of me baby… all of me." Then suddenly withdrew only to viciously shove his swollen shaft back in to the hilt.

Carla’s lungs seemed restricted as the next scream caught in her throat allowing only an animalistic groan to escape. Her eyes rolled back in her head as the agonizing force of each thrust threatened to rip her apart. Tears streamed down her face as her body clenched, twisted, and convulsed with the torturous invasion.

"What’s the matter cunt, hubby never fuck you like this? Of course not." He answered for himself as he withdrew once again and slammed back inside her, withdrew, and forced his way in again, each thrust hard and quick. "That ass is too tight. That pussy bastard didn’t have the balls for this did he? Did he!" Demanding an answer by snatching her head back even further.

"No!" she screamed, sobbing almost uncontrollably.

"No?" he taunted, moving in and out of her then suddenly slapping her bare ass. "No because he didn’t think of it or no because you wouldn’t allow him to?"

Carla could only sob, shaking her head in denial.

"Answer me!" Slapping her ass harder again and again as he fucked her, moving in and out of her ruthlessly.

Carla could barely breathe let alone talk. Every thrust sent her closer and closer to the darkness and she prayed it’d take her soon. Her arms burned like fire as the guards continued to hold them up high cutting off the circulation completely.

"Answer me you fuckin’ cunt!" He demanded again, slamming her from side to side. He knew the excruciating pain he caused and it drove him to do even more. "Did you tell hubby how he could fuck you? Did you make him do it your way? That why you need a real man honey? Because he was so pussy whipped you just couldn’t stand him anymore?"

"Yes!" Carla screamed out and wanted to die. It wasn’t enough the bastard was killing her, his hard cock thrusting her, feeling as big as a baseball bat. He would humiliate her too; forcing her to say whatever he wished… whatever came to mind. All she wanted was for this torture to stop before he actually ripped her open. "Yes!" she sobbed again then begged, "P… please stop." Her voice strained, hoarse, nearly raw from the screams he continued to force from her.

"Stop?" He asked incredulously and shook her head again then slammed into her, withdrew and slammed into her again, quickly, viciously. "I’m just getting started here." Forcing his dick to the hilt over and over. "I’m just beginning to get my rhythm. And you know what?" he asked and suddenly stopped all movement, buried deep inside her ass. "Know what?" he asked again, drawing her face around a little so that he could see the pain etched clearly. "You might as well get used to this sort of thing." Withdrawing, then thrusting with quick, hard, jabs. "Get used to a dick in this tight little ass. It’s what happens to slaves. Their assholes are open season sweetheart." Thrusting her again. "You think your master is gonna fuck you so that you might get off on it? So that you might get some satisfaction?" He laughed in her ear… the sound anything but humorous. "Slaves don’t receive any satisfaction honey. No more orgasms." He taunted in a whispered voice, his warm breath rasping harshly against her face. "No more groans of ecstasy. You’re gonna be fucked in the ass from here on out babe… painfully and by God knows how many men, women too probably. Awe, they may fuck all your pleasure holes… but you’ll never, never receive any pleasure from it. Got that, bitch?" Giving her three quick jabs then adding, "All you’ll get from it is being used for the whoring little cunt you are. And I’m pleased, real pleased to know I’m the first cock inside this tight ass."

Carla felt the bile rise up in her throat but swallowed convulsively to force it back down. How long could this go on? She wondered. Robert… Robert had never lasted more than a very few minutes and that was from start to finish, including whatever foreplay he called himself performing. Harris though, God, he had the stamina of a bull and felt about as big as one. "Please…" she begged again, her voice barely audible, "please, no more. I can’t take any more."

Harris continued his hold on her hair, jerking her head back as far as possible, steadily thrusting his hard cock deep inside her anus. "You’ll take it." He assured her with conviction. He loved the way her tight ass convulsed and clenched him, stroking him, urging him on and on and on. "You’ll take it and you’ll like it. You do like it… ain’t that right?" He asked tauntingly. "Tell old Frank how much you’re enjoying yourself."

Carla whined and tried to pull her head away.

"Tell me." He demanded, thrusting her a little harder then slapping her bare ass once again.

"P…please…"

"Tell me!" He insisted and slapped her several more times.

Carla stubbornly refused, clenching her teeth until she feared breaking them.

"Tell me you fuckin’ like it!" he said through his own clenched teeth, fucking her harder with quick jabbing motions. Thrusting so deep she swore she could feel him inside her other organs. "Say it!" he demanded again, his other hand gripping her chin to pull her head more toward him. "Say you fuckin’ like it cunt."

"I… like it." She finally conceded. It was obey him or let him break her neck.

"Say it louder." Squeezing her chin and mouth viciously.

"I like it!" she gasped on a sob.

"Sure you do." He agreed and continued, his movements’ jerkily but still filled with the rage that boiled inside him. "You like having a man deep inside your ass, taking control of you. Isn’t that right?"

"Yes." She whispered.

"And you want more of it, don’t you?"

"No, please!" she said in desperation.

"Say it!" fucking her even harder.

"I… can’t, please!"

"Say… it!" Once again squeezing her chin and pulling it toward him as he pumped in and out of her.

"I…" she sobbed and stumbled over the words that threatened to choke her.

"Say… it!" squeezing harder.

"I… want… more!" she gasped out.

"Beg me for it."

Carla whined as more tears flooded her eyes. Please… God, please! How much more?

"Beg… me!"

"I’m begging you!" she screamed out, the pain just too much.

"Again!"

Carla cried out and once again tried to free her head that seemed to be held in a vice. It was a fruitless attempt. "I’m… begging! I want more! I’m begging you for more!" Sobbing almost hysterically as she gulped air into her lungs. "I’m begging you for more."

Getting what he wanted from her, Harris slammed into her again and again with several viciously hard thrusts. He forced her to take him to the hilt every time, withdrawing almost to the head then thrusting forward again and again. Her submission drove him to a frenzy and finally, after what seemed to be an exhausting amount of time, his body convulsed painfully, shooting hot cum inside her cavity… so much so that it squirted back on his loins to slide thickly down his and Carla’s thighs.

Harris was absolutely weak by the time the brutal orgasm had subsided enough for him to even think rationally. He felt almost paralyzed before his muscles finally released him enough to withdraw from Carla… his breathing still harsh as the blood roared in his ears. He wondered if his heart rate didn’t settle soon if his heart might actually burst through his chest. "Keep her arms up." He said to Morgan and took a particularly deep breath as he bent forward and braced his hands on his knees. He had to regulate his breathing. "And take a turn with her." Offering her now for pure meanness. "I want her raw."

"No, no, please! No more, please!" Carla begged at this new order and tried to change her position. "Please don’t hurt me anymore!"

"Yes, sir." Morgan said gamely and handed the rope over to his partner. "Keep her steady." He told Pierce who began tightening the ropes a little more. "I still owe the bitch for the teeth marks on the back of my hand." He quipped and began unbuckling his fatigues. He was rock hard from just watching the Captain fuck the shit out of her. Now it was his turn.

"Hang on a second." Harris said and stepped back around in front of Carla as she continued to beg and plead. His cock was still semi-hard even as exhausted as he was. Snatching a handful of hair again he brought Carla’s face up even with his crotch. "Clean it." He demanded. Carla gagged and tried to pull away but the ropes prevented much movement. "Clean me up." He demanded again. "All of me, balls, dick, all of it… every inch of me. Lick me clean. Now."

"Please…" Carla began to wail.

Without a word he slapped her face, hard, cutting her off in mid-sentence.

Her head snapped backward violently. The impact set off a burst of light, causing a vivid shower of sparks to rain down before her eyes.

"I said… clean… me… off!" Emphasizing each word, then slapped her again.

AAAHHHGGUUAAHHH!!!! She cried out as her head was then snatched to and fro. What she could see of him through the torrent of tears sickened her. His cock was coated, slick with a mixture of his cum and her own feces. The mere thought of touching him brought bile to her throat again, let alone using her mouth on him. Again he slapped her, this time spitting her lip. Blood spurted and pain mingled with the rest... its coppery taste seeping into her mouth.

Suddenly a hand was at her throat, squeezing hard enough to cut her air supply. Harris squatted down before her, putting his face near hers as she gasped and struggled against him. "Do it!" he said through clenched teeth, "or so help me I’ll give you just enough fuckin’ air to keep you conscious, but just barely. Understand me? You won’t black out," He assured her evenly as her eyes grew large and fearful, "but you won’t drag in enough air to be far from it either. You’ll be right on the verge of it continuously." Easing off some to allow her a very small gulp then squeezed off her windpipe again.

Carla squirmed, knowing her face was turning red and her eyes bulging as sweet, precious oxygen was still denied her. He’d only allowed her the one breath of air and it wasn’t enough!

Harris waited until she was just beginning to turn blue then allowed her another little gasp.

Carla drank it in as far as possible before he closed down on her airway once again. Her lungs burned with the need for more and felt as though they might burst from the lack of it. She couldn’t stand much more! He would end up smothering her, she was sure of it! But then… some sadistic little demon took hold of her as she stubbornly tried once more to hold her ground.

He waited a little longer this time, forcing her closer to the point of unconsciousness and then released her for another small, very minute breath. He grinned evilly. "I can keep it up indefinitely." He warned quietly. "And there’ll never be enough air."

Carla’s eyes watered anew with this threat. She managed a small nod in submitting to his demand.

Harris grinned without humor and released his grip completely.

Carla coughed and sputtered, her body wracked with spasms as she drank in the precious air she’d been deprived. Pierce continued to hold her arms up at a painful angle, never allowing the ropes to loosen the slightest bit. Harris would have his demands obeyed, she realized, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Rape hadn’t been enough… he’d have to degrade and humiliate her as well. She gagged as he gripped another handful of hair and displayed himself before her face once more. Her stomach threatened to revolt violently. Shakily, she closed her eyes and forced her tongue between her lips, touching his offending sex. She gagged again from the stench and the bitter taste and her stomach heaved. Then she proceeded to clean him.

Morgan snickered as Harris tightened his grip, winding her hair down against the scalp and forcing Carla closer. "Get it all cunt." He demanded calmly then shoved his dick into her mouth. "Suck it off and watch the teeth. Hurt me and I’ll make you pray for death."

Tears poured from Carla’s eyes as she tried to squirm, tried to even breathe as Harris’ dick shoved deeper down her throat but for her efforts, Pierce only tightened the ropes. AHHHGGGUMMMUNNN!!! Came the muffled cry as additional pain shot through her already tortured arms. Her tongue darted in and around Harris’ dick as she sucked and licked and cleaned him as best she could. His hold never wavered but he allowed her to move up and down his shaft, cleaning more and more of him. She felt him begin to harden again, setting off another wave of revulsion.

"God, I love it." Pierce said as he looked on.

"You’re after Morgan." Harris informed him and pulled himself from Carla’s mouth. "Get my balls too." He instructed and pressed her face in his groin. The remnants of his cum that clung to his pubic hair now smeared across her nose and mouth. "That’s it." He praised lightly then warned, "And don’t leave anything, not even a drop, nor any of your shit either. Oh… and don’t forget my thighs there too, where it squirted back on me." He added as the two guards chuckled in unison. "I don’t want anything left. Understand me?" He asked and shook her head roughly.

"Un huh." Was the best Carla could answer as she continued working in and around his balls, her tongue busily cleaning the taut plateau beneath and the crevices.

"And make slurping sounds." He demanded. "I like listening to a woman enjoying my… gifts." And as Carla complied, all three men guffawed. Humiliation had taken on a new meaning for her.

Morgan took his turn afterwards, waiting patiently until his Captain had been fully satisfied with his "cleaning". And just as his Captain had before him, he took Carla in the ass… fucking her quick and hard and ruthlessly. He too wanted her screaming and begging him for more. An unnatural high seemed to consume him at the sounds of her cries, her pleading, and the tightening of her sphincter as he plowed her long and deep and hard. In his opinion it had all been over and done with too soon… but maybe, just maybe they’d all have another go at her before the night was over. He hoped so.

Harris watched from his desk as his second guard fucked the woman who’d managed to defy him all day. Pierce wasn’t all that thick but his cock was long, reaching deep inside her anal cavity. Carla hadn’t had a moments rest between the two burly guards… he’d seen to that. She no longer struggled for freedom or a change of position… but groaned as this new invasion of her body slammed into her backside. He’d wanted her punished and thought he’d accomplished as much… but he wanted more. "Morgan," he said as he rose from the desk chair and approached the trio. "I’ll take over the ropes. Aren’t Westerbrook and Sager close by?"

"Down the hall, sir."

"Get them in here." Harris ordered.

"Yes, sir." Came the reply and Morgan set off immediately.

Harris felt his own cock harden again as he raised Carla’s arms up just a little higher thereby causing an almost animalistic sound from her. Her agony pleased him. And when Morgan reappeared with the two men in question… he was even more pleased. "You boys interested in a little fuck party?" He wanted to know.

"Yes, sir." Came the reply in unison.

Carla’s feeble cries of objection went unnoticed.

"You’ll take over when Pierce is through." Harris instructed… a smile gracing his features. "One of you will take the back… the other the front so she gets it at both ends at the same time. I want her fucked hard and I want her fucked memorably."

The two men answered his smile with one of their own.

"And which ever one of you takes her mouth, make her swallow… every fuckin’ drop. Clear?"

"Clear, sir!" Both answered yet again. And with that… the two began unbuckling and unzipping their fatigues with great anticipation.

Carla was dazed, vaguely aware that Harris had brought in two more men to continue the rape. Her arms hurt more than she’d ever considered possible as the ropes that bound her were twisted and pulled tighter and tighter. And to make the torture even worse… her hands were pulled higher and higher at the same time, forcing her to bend almost double. The burning sensation down both arms was making them blessedly numb but her elbows had been drawn almost completely together making the pain unbearable at the shoulder joints. And someone, usually whoever was fucking her at the time, was always kicking her knees further apart as they slammed into her body. Her knees and hip joints ached as well… the concrete floor a torture in itself. And finally, her asshole felt as though someone had hit it with a blast from a blowtorch then used sandpaper on it for good measure. She doubted she’d ever be the same. She’d screamed and begged until her throat hurt… there just didn’t seem to be anything else to give. Tears had fallen in rivulets down her cheeks, blinding her, choking her. She’d prayed for unconsciousness but it never came. The rape seemed to go on forever. Even now, one man was shoving his swollen cock in her sore ass while another forced his way down her throat. She couldn’t scream now if her life depended on it… the size of him would have blocked out all sound. Each man plunged into her as if there would be no tomorrow… one gripping her waist to keep her steady, the other her head. There was no escape, no retreat. And now, now cum shot out, spewing into her mouth like volcanic lava, hot and searing and thick to coat her tongue and throat and the roof of her mouth. "Take it." This one demanded as well. She didn’t even know his name, a fact that didn’t seem to matter. "Don’t lose even a drop or there’ll be hell to pay."

There’ll be hell to pay. There’ll be hell to pay.

"Oh yeah!" The other one shouted as he slammed his cock into her raw anus. "Yeah!" Pumping her wildly as the orgasm took control of his body. Sweat turned into a puddle between their bodies and ran down her thighs, along with his juices, hot and thick. Her stomach still offered to revolt at the thought and she would have begged for mercy but there wasn’t any to be found. There’ll be hell to pay. Carla nearly laughed at the notion. I’m already in hell. It doesn’t matter… I’m already in hell.

Harris observed Carla with both satisfaction and anticipation as Westerbrook and Sager finished. He’d motioned to Morgan and Pierce to ease the ropes that had tortured her repeatedly… keeping her arms close together and consistently raised, both an unnatural position. It was an extremely painful torture, he knew, one used repeatedly in the POW camps of Vietnam but used now in conjunction with rape, had proven to be a powerful tool against any woman. He’d enjoyed it immensely. Little miss hard ass was folded like an accordion now… her knees still spread wide because of the bar at her feet. She’d collapsed when the ropes loosened, allowing her to crumble and fold in on herself, her arms limp on her back, her chest against her spread thighs, her forehead resting on the cool floor. Her breathing was coming in little pants now where they’d been loud gasps just moments earlier. She was bathed in sweat and reeked of sex. He wondered how much pride was left… how much attitude… how much defiance. He considered the last couple of days.

They’d brought Carla to the complex around ten the previous morning and took her immediately to her cell. He always ordered all the newcomers chained uncomfortably and left alone for the first twenty-four hours. He’d learned long ago that immediate discomfort for long periods of time did wonders for attitude. Being hogtied and chained in a kneeling position was hard on a body and the majority of the slaves passing through here crumbled easily because of it. Add solitary confinement to the mix and you have one powerful incentive to cooperate.

When Carla had been brought before him, he’d expected complacency. He nearly laughed at the thought now. Carla Beechum was anything but complacent. No, Carla Beechum was not like the other slaves passing through his fingers. And being suspended for over four hours this morning should have accomplished something along the lines of forcing her submission but instead, seemed to fuel her tongue so that in the end he’d had her lowered and fucked senseless. He grinned now and had to readjust his swelling cock to a more comfortable position. He’d planned on fucking her but he hadn’t counted on her sending him into such a rage first. And knowing the little hellcat had pushed him that far… didn’t do much for his disposition. Just thinking about it pissed him off again.

He sighed softly and returned his feet to the corner of his desk. He eyed the clock… it was still early afternoon. And the paper he wanted signed was still here in the folder on his desk… unsigned. That too pissed him off. "Get up." He ordered the girl from where he sat. "I said get your ass up Carla." Repeating the order a little more forcefully. "We aren’t finished yet and this is no time for resting."

Carla raised her head slightly, her body tensing.

"All the way." He instructed. "I want you on your knees. A slave is allowed no other stance whether at attention or at ease, showing their submission, accepting their inferiority to males… all males. You might as well begin now with me and my men."

With her hands and upper arms still tied and her feet hobbled, it was a struggle to push her upper body back into an upright position, unaided, but she managed. Pain shot through her knees and both hips, the concrete floor unforgiving but she bit back the groan that threatened to escape and complied with the order.

Harris smiled with undue pleasure. Tossing her file down on the desk, he reached for another file and read the name from it. "Barbara Kelsey." He said slowly and looked to his guards. "Bring her to me."

Morgan and Pierce looked from their Captain to the slave still on her knees.

"She isn’t going anywhere." He assured them. "There are three other bitches I’d like to process in the near future. As they’ve been chained, as she was, I think we better start getting them out. I don’t contemplate any major concerns, do you?"

"No, sir." Morgan answered.

"Then bring Barbara to me and lets get a move on. Carla can wait, isn’t that right Carla?"

Carla didn’t answer and Morgan cuffed her behind the head. "Yes, sir." She answered as though distancing herself from the situation.

Harris grinned and winked at the two guards. "Bring Barbara in."

"Yes, sir." They replied and left immediately.

Barbara Kelsey was a slightly overweight, very buxom redhead who had apparently been crying since the moment she arrived. Harris wanted to smack her for just that reason alone. She was forty-two, the mother of six, all of whom would now be under the sole custody of their father, and out on her own for the first time in her forty-two years. She’d had a very domineering father and gotten married at sixteen, to a domineering husband. Now, after twenty-six years of marriage, she’d decided she just couldn’t handle being controlled by the man any longer. Harris laughed at the irony of that piece of information.

He explained the situation to her, explained the way the system worked and then watched the woman fall to her knees and beg to be sent back to her husband. They just don’t get it, do they? There is no turning back. Jesus… don’t the fuckin’ lawyers explain nothing to these bitches? "Forget the theatrics." He told her with little compassion. "You wanted the divorce, you got the fuckin’ divorce. You’re no longer married to the man. Now you’ve been reclassified as a slave. What’s done is done, and signing this paper," he pointed out, "legalizes everything so that each of you can move on. He can remarry if he wants, you’re kids will continue to have a roof over their heads and possibly a new mother, and you… will have a master."

Carla’s stomached twisted as she watched the woman nearly disintegrate with self-pity. And Harris, the bastard, wasn’t helping matters any. She wasn’t sure which of the two disgusted her more.

"Sign the papers Barbara, or suffer the consequences. See that slave behind you? The one on her fuckin’ knees?" Jabbing a finger in Carla’s direction as his temper got the better of him. "She’s been suspended from the ceiling for hours, beaten, had her pussy hair ripped out, and ass fucked by several of my men, myself included. You’ll end up just… like… her." Emphasizing each word with another jab pointed directly at her.

Biting her lower lip, Barbara looked to Carla once more then snatched up the pen Harris now offered her. She signed her life away… just like that.

Slave number two was also in her forties… forty-six to be exact. Her name was Brenda Morris, black as the ace of spades, and as wide as she was tall. She gave Captain Harris some pretty good lip on her opinion of being reclassified as a slave. Well, he considered with a certain amount of satisfaction… her opinion was pretty substantial and quite valid of course, until she discovered she had no more rights and could quite easily be suspended and whipped. When Yuri finished giving her a taste of his cane… a total of two hundred strokes that Harris had ordered himself just to get the upper hand, she was more than happy to sign the paper he handed her. He laughed out loud, how the mighty have fallen.

Then slave number three was brought before him. Like Carla, Leslie O’Connor was quite a looker. Nothing classic, mind you, but a looker nonetheless. She was tall, five feet nine if an inch, blonde, blue-eyed, and blessed with a set of tits guaranteed to give every man within a hundred mile radius a hard on the size of Mount Rushmore. Jesus Christ, they can’t be real. He rubbed his cock and again readjusted it. I’ll find out before she’s shipped to the Dragon… I guarantee that much. She’s just turned thirty years of age and her husband was out looking for greener pastures. Harris scratched his head. How much fuckin’ greener could he want? "You know the score." He stated rather than asked the woman before him.

"If you’re talking about that horse shit about being a slave, yeah, I know the score." She answered snidely. "I ain’t no slave."

Harris’ eyes narrowed. "You gonna give me trouble over signing this paper?" Shoving it to the center of his desk for her to see it.

"If it says I’m a goddamn slave I am." She retorted.

Moving quickly, Morgan and Pierce gripped both wrists and twisted them up behind her back then forced her to her knees.

Harris’ eyes sparkled with amusement at yet another slave who had more bravado than good sense. "I’m afraid I’ll have to insist on a more appropriate attitude from you Leslie and some semblance of respect."

She didn’t answer him.

"You’ll address me as sir," He ordered calmly, "and you’ll watch your mouth. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself in a much more uncomfortable position, I assure you."

She still remained silent.

Harris nodded. That’s it, a simple nod to Morgan and the guard applied more pressure to the woman’s wrist.

Again, silence.

Harris nodded again and this time Morgan applied a great deal more pressure, forcing her to bend all the way to the floor in the process.

Leslie remained silent for all of ten seconds then said, "Yes, sir."

Harris’ eyes darted with satisfaction to Carla who remained kneeling but was beginning to slump forward a little bit. "Straighten up, Carla." He ordered. "There is no rest for slaves, no allowances of comfort."

"Yes, sir." She answered in a near whisper and hating herself for doing it.

"This paper," Harris said informatively to Leslie as he dropped his feet to the floor and sat forward, "transfers everything you were awarded in the divorce, back to your ex-husband. The sooner you sign it, the sooner you’ll be processed and taken to your assigned training camp."

Leslie shook her head negatively. "I’m not signing anything."

Harris shrugged. "It’ll be easier if you do." Then pointed to Carla. "Otherwise you’ll end up like her." Allowing that to sink in as Morgan and Pierce let her turn enough to see Carla for herself.

Leslie locked eyes with Harris again. "I’m not signing anything."

"Suit yourself." He said simply and motioned to his two guards.

Carla’s stomach twisted again as Leslie was dragged backward to the bar she’d hung from all morning. In short order they had her stripped, cuffed, and hanging about a foot off the floor.

"Add a bar to her ankles and gag her." Harris instructed. "Fuckin’ women." He mumbled under his breath and walked around the front of his desk. "Fuckin’, hardheaded women." Then backed up to sit on the desk, feet spread, arms folded across his chest. "All right Carla," he said with some minor frustration in his tone, "what’s it gonna be with you? The ass fuckin’ was personal… nothing to do with whether you’ll sign your paper or not. I warn you though, if you refuse this time, the pain factor goes up. Way up."

Carla couldn’t think of anything any more painful than what she’d already been subjected to and she’d survived. It hadn’t been easy, but she had survived. If she held out… there was always the chance of escape, no matter how remote that possibility might seem at the moment. Once she gave in though… she’d be sent off to another place, equally as horrifying and probably even more difficult to get away from. She had to go with what she had now. What was that saying… a bird in the hand was worth two in the bush? What the hell did that mean exactly? And does it even apply to me? What the hell… Carla shook her head in a negative response. "I’m not signing."

Jesus fuckin’ Christ! Harris wanted to shout it from the rooftops! Again his eyes narrowed and his lips compressed. "All right," Giving the appearance of deadly calm while his insides quivered with rage at the pigheaded little fool. "Take her down to room B." he instructed Morgan and Pierce. "Leave the ropes and bar just as they are. No gag, for now. Maybe some time on the hook will adjust her thinking. And stay down there." He added. "You know where to post yourselves. And send Westerbrook and Sager back here. They’ll take over handling Leslie. Tell ‘em to bring Yuri."

"Yes, sir." And without further instruction, Carla was caught under each arm and dragged from the room, her bare feet scraping against the rough concrete floor.

Harris just couldn’t believe it. Were the gods working against him today or what? Four… women. Sometimes he was able to process anywhere from twenty to fifty women that come through his complex. Just four damn women were brought through here yesterday… and two were gonna be the biggest goddamn pains in the butt in the history of his work here. He hoped this wasn’t some kind of new trend. If it was… it was only gonna make his life harder. He shook his head in disgust. There were six due in later this afternoon and eight more tomorrow morning. He needed to get his act together.

He’d purposely made Carla remain on her knees and watch the others, mainly to cause her extra discomfort but also to make her feel inferior. He also figured it wouldn’t hurt to let her actually see the others giving in. And it was working too, he thought peevishly, until that fuckin’ Leslie decided to turn obstinate. God… what it is with these women today? Have they all got shit for brains? Do I have to spend all my time torturing them to get what they’ll eventually give me anyway? This was supposed to be easy. And it is easy, for the most part. Scratching his head. Most of the time it’s easy. Fuckin’ women.

The room Carla had been dragged to wasn’t much but what she saw sent terror through her heart. The entire room couldn’t have been more than twelve by twelve, if that, and there were no windows, just concrete walls. One of the walls sported a rectangular table that held more ropes, whips, a paddle or two, and what appeared to be additional manacles of different sizes. What bothered her though… was the hook. A large, black, wrought iron hook had been mounted in a crossbeam running the length of the room in the ceiling. It hung directly in the center of the room like something straight out of a horror movie… or a slaughterhouse. Morgan and Pierce didn’t say anything to her… just dragged her closer to the hook. Harris had said something about some time on the hook. Okay, more suspension. She expected his two goons to begin untying her hands to be retied around front but before she could even form a thought of why they hadn’t yet… she was suddenly turned between them, her face nearly shoved into Morgan’s stomach as Pierce pushed her hands up behind her and forcing her body forward. She was then lifted, her hands and wrists clearing the pointed end of the hook and set in its deep curving well so that the ropes binding her wrists held her weight. Hot, searing pain shot straight up through her arms and shoulders, causing her to cry out. Morgan checked to be sure she held before walking away… then moved away.

Carla tried to twist free but the position of her arms made it impossible. "You can’t leave me like this!" She yelled.

"Captain’s orders." He answered matter of factly.

The pain was incredible. She’d just begun to get the feeling back in her upper arms from the earlier torture. "You can’t hang me like this!" Her voice so shrill as to qualify as panicked. "It feels like my arms might break!"

Morgan shrugged. "It’s been known to happen. More likely they’ll be pulled out of the sockets." He added then walked to the door.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Carla screamed at the retreating backs of her tormentors. "No, no, God… please don’t leave me like this! Don’t leave me like this!"

Neither Morgan nor Pierce made further comment, just walked out and pulled the door closed, slid the bolt home that locked her inside and took up their posts on either side of the door. Muffled screams continued to waft through the steel barrier, but went largely unnoticed. This was nothing new to them… they knew how to ignore it.

Harris walked into his private office, grabbed a much-needed cup of coffee from the still warming pot on the Mr. Coffee and took a seat behind his desk. It had been over an hour and Leslie was still holding out on signing that fuckin’ paper so he’d ordered Westerbrook and Sager to take her down to Room C, along with Yuri, and intensify her torture. She was promising to be as obstinate as Carla Beechum but he didn’t figure on her holding out as long. He’d ordered her hands and elbows tied behind her much the same as Carla, but forced to lie on her back on the floor with her feet manacled together in a special brace that would keep her from moving them, even slightly, and hoisted up high enough so that all her weight rested on her bound arms and shoulders. Then Yuri is to beat the soles of her feet, until she breaks. A person has no idea just how sensitive the soles of the feet are. We’ll see how long she wants to hold out after a couple of hours. With that idea in mind he reached for the remote control and pointed it to the TV screen across the room. Pressing the correct button, torture room B flashed up on the screen. Carla hung from the hook he’d ordered her suspended from. The position is extremely painful and used by several agencies as a way of making an uncooperative prisoner, more cooperative. The torture was both pain induced and psychological.

He observed Carla carefully. She wouldn’t be moving around, of course, because this particular position made movement impossible. The victim’s arms are tied behind the back at both the wrists and just above the elbows causing pain that can become unbearable even by that fact alone. Add being suspended in that same position and you’ve got extreme pain. She had no choice but to face the floor as her upper body would tend to bend in that direction. Having ones arms forced up so much higher than the rest of them… made any other position impossible. He’d expected her to be screaming by now… begging to be set free as her weight pulled at the shoulder joints. "Goddamn her stubborn hide," he mumbled. Pointing the control again, he pressed the button for sound. Nothing. Moving closer to the screen for a better look he could see the sheen of sweat encasing her body. "Well, that’s something at least." Speaking aloud to himself. "She’s deliberately making me work at this, forcing my hand, damn her, making me go to extremes. She’ll break soon… she has to." He observed her a bit longer… taking note of her hands, helpless as the rope binding them draped the deep well of the hook. They looked red, from his standpoint, bordering a bluish purple and swollen, each indicating the lack of circulation. They’d be numb and useless to her, he knew. And her upper arms… the muscles were pulled taut, the skin stretched and glistening as though she’d been working out. But the pain in her shoulders would be constant and very much alive no matter how long she remained hanging there. If the pain wasn’t already excruciating, it will be. Her legs, spread wide and unmoving and still tied to the heavy bar, were dirty and stained from the earlier rapes. She looked a mess.

Better hope the Dragon has more patience than I remember him having. Harris shook his head at that thought, thinking the probability of such was pretty remote. He’d served under the man during Desert Storm. They guy was old world Military; a career man to a fault who’d served three tours in Nam. He’d spent years after the war debriefing POW’s that’d been viciously tortured in Hanoi. Techniques the methods the "V", as they called the North Vietnamese, used were discussed at length… their intensity, their consistency, the amount of time they kept it up, and their overall success in breaking those guys. The North Vietnamese knew just how far to go and how long to administer those techniques too. Yeah… he’d interviewed those guys religiously, studied and examined pictures and descriptions they’d provided him for countless hours… learning everything he could on the subject. Jesus, there ain’t nothing that bastard doesn’t know about torture… long, cruel, devastating torture, both physical and psychological. He looked at Carla again then shut off the monitor. "She’ll break soon."

Why don’t I pass out? Carla couldn’t help but question. She couldn’t feel her hands at all… but God, the pain in her shoulders and down her upper arms just never went away. The burning, it was as if someone was setting fire to her veins and it continued on with endless severity. Sometimes it pulsated and other times it was just one long stream of heat, and still other times, like a hot poker was being applied in various places. She needed to move no matter how slight the change but how? He hands were of no use to her. Maybe early on, if she hadn’t already spent hours trussed up like she had been, she might have been able to grip the hook and somehow helped herself, but her hands had been tied since arrive here. And her legs were just as useless… dangling limply, her feet bound to a pole and hoisted some two feet or so off the floor. She couldn’t even kick out. She groaned as another sharp pain sliced through her shoulder blades. Face it Carla… Harris has seen to it that you can’t do anything to relieve the pain, nothing. The sadistic son of a bitch doesn’t liked being bucked. He won’t let up until you do exactly as he wants… that’s the bottom line. I can’t give in… I can’t. If I give in all will be lost. I have to hold out. Please God, praying silently, just give me the strength to last as long as I can.

Frank Harris entered torture room B and eyed his subject carefully. Sweat, he noticed with some measure of satisfaction, still formed and ran down the length of Carla’s body, indicating the amount of pain she suffered. Her hair was slightly matted and damp, falling into her eyes because of the position she was hung in. "How’s it going Carla?" he asked and lifted her chin for inspection.

Silence.

He could see she was clearly conscious and that pleased him. He made a quick mental note to instruct Morgan and Pierce on what to do should she try escaping through blacking out. "I asked you a question cunt." Slapping her face lightly to get her attention. He damn sure wouldn’t accept complacency or an attempt to distance herself from the situation.

Again, silence.

He looked at the table along one wall and walked over for a little search. Moving several items around he found what he’s looking for… a plastic clothes hanger, complete with end clips. Walking back to Carla, he purposely allowed her to see it. Her eyes closed in acceptance of the punishment she knew was coming. He knew then that she wasn’t as distanced as she might have thought. Without a word, he thumped and tugged at Carla’s nipples until they were pebble hard then opened the clips and snapped them closed. The results was as he’d hoped for… A gasping moan that told him her complacency was once again a thing of the past. "Now that I have your complete attention," he said and again lifted her chin. "How’s it going?"

"Fine." Carla answered, her teeth clenched and her voice clipped.

Harris laughed out loud. "Oh I can see that." He agreed. "And make that, fine, sir."

"Fine, sir." She repeated obediently.

He laughed again. "Carla, Carla, Carla… why must you force my hand at every turn?" Releasing her chin, he casually placed his hands in his pockets and walked about the room. "Why not just avoid all this pain and suffering and give me what I want?"

"No."

"You’ll do what I want eventually." He assured her. "You must realize that by now. Why put yourself through all this?"

"No." Hating the unsteadiness of her own voice.

Harris continued walking the room as though completely unperturbed by her repeated refusals. "We’ve been at this for quite a while now." He reminded her. "First you spent all that time chained in your cell. Twenty-four hours of that must have been uncomfortable."

Silence.

"Then Yuri had his time with you. And Helga… that took almost an hour and a half you know, taking care of the cunt hair."

"Then there was you." She couldn’t help pointing out. "How long did that take?"

Harris’ eye lit in amusement. "Long enough to get my point across, I think, but not nearly as long as I’d have liked. The point I’m trying to make now though is aren’t you hungry, thirsty? And you have to be tired. You’ve been completely denied any kind of comfort. Wouldn’t you like to clean up a bit and maybe get some sleep rather than remain on that hook?"

Carla was indeed hungry and thirsty. Her mouth felt as dry as the Sahara and her stomach must think her throat’s been cut since there’s been no food. And she’d kill for a bath. She closed her eyes at the mere thought. He’s lying though; she could almost feel it in her bones. He might allow her back to her cell, but she doubted very much if a bath and a hot meal would be forth coming. "I’m not signing the paper."

Harris sighed in resignation and pinched the bridge of his nose as he propped one hip on the table behind her. "Get two of the bags of sand." He told Morgan who then exited the room briefly and returning as ordered. Without further instruction, Morgan and Pierce looped the drawstring ties of two-five pound bags of sand over either end of the pole bound to her ankles. Just like that, ten pounds of weight was added to her tortured arms.

Catching her lip between her teeth, Carla took a couple of breaths, trying to accept the added tension in silence. The pain and burning down her arms increased and a low moan escaped her before she could squash it.

"You leave me no choice but to hurt you." Harris said quietly as though full of remorse. "The boys and I have a job to do here." He continued in the same tone. "We have rules and regulations to go by and certain stipulations have to be met before you can progress to the next stage."

Carla sucked precious air into her lungs. "I won’t sign."

Harris waited a few minutes then nodded once again to Morgan who in turn left the room. When he returned… he and Pierce added another set of bags.

UHNNN! Carla groaned as her arms were stretched tighter. She gasped and struggled for composure but tears burned the backs of her eyes only to materialize and spill over her lower lashes. Biting into her lower lip she was determined to endure the added weight with dignity. When the coppery taste of blood invaded her senses, she knew just how determined she’d been.

"Give it up Carla." Harris continued talking to her as though her very best friend. "Don’t put yourself through all this, please. What’s the purpose?" he wanted to know. "Why suffer for something you’re gonna have to give in to anyway? And you’ll give in Carla." he promised. "As I said earlier, I will get your signature, eventually. How long it takes and how much pain you wish to suffer first is strictly up to you… but I will get it. Now why not just submit to me and call an end to all this?"

God… Carla wanted to do just that! She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out against him. It felt as though every tendon in her arms was being stretched and pulled beyond reason. The burning was incredible, the aching, gnawing pain like nothing she’d ever felt before in her life, and now even her breathing was being affected. She tried struggling against the pain she suffered, God knows she’d do anything to relieve it. All she could do was hang there impotently and endure.

"Go open the door to room C." Harris told Pierce. "And leave this one open too." Within minutes the sounds of screaming floated down the hall and into the room. "Hear that?" Harris asked Carla solemnly. "That’s Leslie." He said informatively. "Yuri is working her over pretty good."

Carla didn’t respond but felt sickened at the sounds.

"She’s lying flat of her back on the floor." He explained casually. "Well, actually she’s lying on her arms because they’re tied behind her back just as yours are but she’s on the floor. Her feet have been drawn together in a set of manacles, very much like these." He said and produced a pair that had been on the table beside him, bringing them for Carla to see firsthand. "They lock the ankles together, side by side see," showing her the contraption, "then this rounded steel loop acts like a vice-like brace with a very strong locking mechanism. It folds down over the top of the foot from the front of the ankle all the way to the base of the toes. And when the lock is depressed, this loop locks the foot into a painfully bowed position, exposing the sole of the foot. It’s quite effective." He commented as though lecturing at the University. "When everything is set and locked… the foot becomes completely immobile. The entire bottom of the foot is exposed and vulnerable."

Another scream rent the air followed by, "You fucking little gook motherfucker!"

Harris coughed into his closed fist and cleared his throat in an effort to hide his amusement at Leslie’s colorful ranting. "The sole of the foot is extremely sensitive. In fact, most people have no idea just how much pain can be delivered to that area." He said by way of explanation for Leslie’s outburst even though her cursing had not abated yet. "And as you’re well aware, Yuri is quite talented with that cane. He’ll deliver stroke after stroke to the bottom of each foot until she cracks. You also know how he takes his own sweet time in administering each blow… or then again, he might deliver several in a row. Depends on his mood."

Carla felt the bile rise in her throat again, threatening to erupt. Swallowing several times she managed to force it back down.

Harris bent forward and whispered near her ear so that only she could hear him. "Where as I’ve enjoyed my task in making your ordeal slow but steadily painful… I’ve embarked on the same method where Leslie is concerned, just in a little different manner. It’ll take a great deal of time for her to recuperate from her ordeal, but she will walk again, eventually." Straightening back to his full height Harris tossed the manacles back on the table and shoved his hands back down in his pockets. "The point I’m trying to make here is that your ordeal isn’t going to end any quicker than Leslie’s if you persist with this blind, unreasonably stubborn behavior. You understand me Carla?" he asked pensively. "Yours and Leslie’s suffering is not gonna come to an end until we get what we want from each of you." And as if to emphasize his statement… Leslie screamed out again as Yuri applied the cane to her feet with perfect precision.

More tears surfaced, nearly choking Carla. "I… won’t… sign."

"Have Pierce close Leslie’s door and join us again." He told Morgan calmly. "Then add ten more pounds." Which Morgan obeyed without a word.

Thirty extra pounds of weight was a lot for a woman of Carla’s stature, she quickly discovered. A low wail sounded then grew in volume as the pain in her arms and shoulders became extreme. Even her hands were feeling the effects now as the rope around them pulled tighter and tighter. She didn’t think she could handle much more… the bastard was gonna win this battle despite her best efforts to resist him. She’d never dreamed getting a divorce would have come to this. She wouldn’t have stayed with Robert… but she might have done things a little differently. Hindsight is great, she thought with grim reflection, but right now it isn’t worth a damn. And her tits… God, her nipples throbbed with every beat of her heart as her globes were pulled taut from her tortured position as well.

"Come on Carla." Harris coaxed as the woman before him panted, sweat trickling down her face and neck, the middle of her back and beneath her armpits.

"Shut up!" she snapped between the groans that were more consistent now. "No!" She screamed out on a sob.

"We can end it right here." He insisted.

She shook her head and gritted her teeth. "No!"

He nodded to Morgan again and another ten pounds was added.

ARRRGHUHHNN!!! Carla screamed out in agony, her eyes squeezing shut as she fought desperately to hold on. She shook her head as if to clear her thinking. UNNNNNUHHH!!! Groaning with every breath she managed to draw into her lungs.

"I can help you." Harris assured her. "I can stop the pain. All you have to do is submit to me Carla. That’s all you have to do and the pain will stop."

She shook her head again, her face red and bathed in sweat and tears, drool seeping out one corner of her mouth before she could swallow it down. "Please!" she screamed to no one in particular. ARRRGGGGUHHH!!!! Anger and frustration colliding with the pain.

"Give me what I want Carla." Harris prodded over her continued screams. "Agree to sigh the paper, that’s all it’ll take."

Carla felt her arms slipping little by little as all this weight threatened to pull them out of the sockets. Please pass out… please let me pass out… please. "NO! Fuck you!" She gritted out with effort. Morgan added yet another ten pounds and Carla screamed as the left shoulder popped. "My shoulder!" she wailed as the searing pain radiated throughout her body. Then the blessed darkness took her away.

A bucket of cold water hit Carla full in the face. At first she was dazed, disoriented, then a searing pain shot through her, bringing her back to reality. She screamed in agony as wracking sobs shook her helpless form.

"This isn’t the time for sleeping or rest periods." Harris informed her calmly. "We still have work to do. I can see that your left shoulder is pulled out of the socket Carla. That must be pretty painful."

"Fuck you, you bastard! Fuck you!"

"I can make the pain go away."

Another scream… the words unintelligible.

"Do as you’re told and it stops immediately."

"Just kill me and be done with it!" She screamed out, spittle and water droplets spewing from her lips.

Harris threw back his head and laughed. "We can’t make any money off of dead slaves, Carla. No," He chuckled and snapped his fingers again, striking terror in her heart. "I’m afraid dying is a lot easier though than living at the moment. It’s about to get even worse." He said matter of factly. Then Pierce rolled a small cart up in front of her that contained some type of box with wires.

"No, no, please." She said just barely audible.

Harris waited. "You ready to submit?"

"Get away from me." She pleaded then suddenly screamed, "My shoulder and arm is killing me! Do something, please!"

"Submit to me and it’s over with."

More sobs wracked Carla’s body but she steadfastly refused with a shake of the head.

Harris attached the wires to a thick metal probe resembling that of a woman’s curling iron, then inserted it deep into Carla’s pussy. "The pain will stop when you do as you’re told." He repeated. "When you’ve had enough let me know." Then carefully applied a two strips of duct tape over her cunt, keeping the probe in place. At the same time, Morgan was placing a wide leather strap between her teeth and fastening it tightly at the back of her head. "That’ll protect your teeth and tongue." Harris said as though discussing the weather. "We wouldn’t want you biting your tongue off or cracking any teeth. That wouldn’t sell well either."

Carla screamed out something unintelligible and shook her head in denial at what he was about to do to her but was ignored. After checking a few switches and wires, Harris sent a small amount of electrical current through her body. ARRRGUUNNNMMMMNNUH!!! Carla cried out, her body twitching as the current jolted her quickly then ceased.

"That really wasn’t too bad, now was it?" Harris asked of no one in particular. Then he changed to a little higher voltage, turned a dial and flipped the switch again.

Carla’s body automatically went into what appeared to be some sort of bizarre dance as she twitched and bucked helplessly, the clothes hanger still attached to her nipples, bouncing up and down erratically. The pain was excruciating as it rocketed throughout her system, holding her prisoner in its vicious grip. The torture seemed to go forever… resulting in the right shoulder being wretched from its socket as well caused by the force of her thrashing. NUNNNUUMMINN! NUNNNMMMMUNNMM!!! She squealed like an injured animal caught in a trap.

Then suddenly the current stopped.

Carla hung limply, her head pointed to the floor as sweat dripped from her body. Her cries were pitiful groans and whimpers between gasping breaths of air. She shook her head as if to clear it. Without a word, Harris flipped the switch again and another wave of current went soaring through her. AHHGGGFNUUMMN!!!! She screamed around the gag as her eyes rolled back into her head, wide and unseeing as once again her body was held in the agonizing grip of electricity. Her twitching and dancing as she dangled from the dreaded hook bringing even more agony. And as soon as the current was turned it off… she passed out again.

Harris had another bucket of water thrown on her. "NO sleeping." He demanded as she coughed and sputtered, dragging in gulps of air.

AHHGGRUUNNNIMMM!!! Was all Carla could manage.

"Had enough?"

Carla hung limply again, her head moving ever so slightly in agreement.

Harris observed her for a brief moment then hit the switch again. Carla screamed and thrashed as much as her bindings would allow, drool spilling from around her gag as her face turned nearly blue and again her eyes disappeared up inside her head. When he stopped the current this time he waited purposely to give the girl time to focus on her pain and answer him readily. He knew she was nearly delirious from the pain of both shoulders being dislocated. Add to that the devastating pain of the shock treatments and you’ve got the makings of one helluva a torture session. He grinned sadistically. Electric shock was nothing if not effective in extracting submission when it counted most. "I said… have you had enough?" he questioned again.

UN HUH! She answered and backed it up with an agreeable nod.

"Remove the gag." He ordered. "You’ll sign your paper." It wasn’t a question.

"Y… yes, sir." She breathed out weakly.

"You’re sure."

She nodded again. "Yes, s… sir. Please…" she begged in a tiny voice. "Please get me down. M… my shoulders, please. I can’t s… stand anymore."

Harris turned off the machine with a snap. "Get everything off her and get her down. Get her shoulders back in place then take her back to her cell."

"Yes, sir." The guards replied as one.

Then Harris stopped just short of the door and checked his watch. It was nearing ten o’clock. "Leave her feet hobbled."

Carla groaned, wanting to object but said nothing.

"Better yet," he amended, "remove everything… clothes hanger, the probe, but leave her on the hook until daybreak."

A keening wail followed on the heels of his order.

"A little added punishment for stubbornness." He told her quietly. "You no longer call the shots in your life MS Beechum. It’s time you learn that once and for all. At daybreak," He said once again to the two guards waiting patiently for the rest of his instructions. "Take her to her cell, see to her injuries and then get her fed and cleaned up. Have her back in front of me at 0800."

"Yes, sir." They answered in unison again.

"And Carla," he added from the open doorway. "If you should entertain the idea of changing you mind once you’ve had a chance to recoup… we’ll bring you back here and pick up where we left off. Understood?"

Carla nodded but Morgan would have none of that. He gripped her chin in a painful, vice-like grip and forced her face toward his Captain. "Answer the man."

"Yes… sir." Just barely managing to push the words past his punishing fingers.

Harris grinned in satisfaction, and then he was gone.

To Be Continued at the Camp of The Grand Dragon.

http://www.rppstories.com/members/1tales/Default.htmhttp://www.rppstories.com/members/1tales/Default.htm

RPP Stories is an archival service that relies on author submissions. If a story is found here that you believe has been posted by an author who does not have permission to post please contact Emma Soji and we will try and verify authorship, public domain status or remove the story.

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Stories involving celebrities are parodies and not meant to represent the individual in a true sense