 |
|||
|
|
CHAPTER 6
Suzzanne Gets Slap Happy
As he opened the door the General could here soft whimpering and he smiled to himself knowing full well that Miss Midsummer’s torment was the source of the sound. He could see her as he entered, her head pulled back by the straps, her eyes closed, she was still grinding her pelvis as her buttocks tensed and relaxed rhythmically. She had been tied for about three hours and it showed her skin shiny with sweat, strands of hair stuck to her forehead. He knelt before her and tapped her forehead with his forefinger. Her eyes snapped open and he could see the anger and loathing as she focused on her tormentor. “Major, I think she has had enough of this, lets see how she likes the Power Rack, that should iron out and creases and he grinned. Suzzanne started to struggle but her movement was quickly curtailed by the increase in pain in her nipples. She had a good idea what a “Power Rack” was and the thought chilled her to the bone.
“I don’t think you’ll have time for that gentlemen” said a mid-atlantic accent. In her fogged mind Suzzanne though she vaguely recognised the voice and tried to see the newcomer but to no avail.
“I’m sorry to end your fun, and it does look like fun! but I’ve come to collect my purchase”. Her mind was swimming but she did recall the officer had said something about a buyer and clearly she was the “purchase”.
“Mr Goldhill” replied the General “yes she’s all yours but be careful she packs a punch” he said turning to the newcomer.
“Jeez!” said Goldhill looking at the General’s battered face “Did she do that to you?”
“Indeed, so keep her tethered”.
“No worries” said Goldhill “We’ve got a long journey so she’s going to sleep for a while”. She heard him open a bag and there was the sound of packets being torn open, then she was aware of a figure beside her but she could not twist to see who it was , only a shiny black brogue and neat grey suit trouser was visible to her. “Hold her” said the accent and she was grasped firmly her shoulders pushed down, a hand gripped her under the throat and she felt the sharp prick of a needle into her neck, she mewed and tried to move but their grip was too strong. She felt a cloud descending over her consciousness and then darkness.
Suzzanne’s mouth was dry and her head ached, she tried to lick her lips but her mouth was like sawdust. Rolling over she found herself on the floor of a small bare holding cell. She was the only thing in the room! Trying to sit up she found her wrists pinned behind her, looking down her ankles were fastened with some sort of padded zip tie around each ankle, one threaded through the other like crude handcuffs. From the movement she had in her wrists she presumed they where fastened the same way and she tugged but although she could twist her wrists the loops were too small to allow her to wriggle her hands free. They must have used them to transport her, secure enough to hold her but not tight enough to cut off circulation. Still naked she struggled to her feet and shuffled across to the metal door. Twisting round she tried the handle, locked, no surprise there. She looked up at the small high window and although it was dirty she could see it was bright daylight outside, that said she had no idea how long she had been out, where she was in the world or who was holding her!
She looked herself up and down, apart from some faint pink weals marking the path of the harness she appeared unharmed although her pussy and beyond felt a little sensitive! As she shuffled back to the corner and sat down leaning back against the cell wall she noticed a small plastic pipe protruding from the wall and on closer inspection she found it was a larger version of the nozzle of a hamster drinking bottle. Gingerly she pressed her tongue against the ball and was rewarded with water. She waited a moment to see if anything happened, it tasted O.K. she thought. She waited for what she thought was about 10 minutes, time for anything in the water to reveal its self but nothing happened. Leaning in again she began to supp from the nozzle slaking her thirst and soaking her parched mouth. She lay back and rolled onto her side, the floor was hard ,there was nothing else to lie on but she wriggled and twisted until she was reasonably comfortable then let he mind try to fathom some means of escape, well she though she had to try.
A key rattled in the lock and the door swung outwards and she pulled herself upright to see a figure she recognised enter the room. She didn’t know him well but he was an American Intelligence Officer who had attended several briefings she had been at. “Tyler!!” she blurted out “What? Who?”
“Agent Midsummer you’re awake and unharmed by the journey I see “
Immediately Suzzanne recognised the voice, the voice she had heard back in the Generals’ residence. Her expression changed from one of surprise to distain, “You, your Goldhill!! “
“Yes” he drawled “that’s the name I use here, Paul Tyler is my cover at the agency”.
Her levels of concern and anxiety were rising by the second “What do you mean cover,” her mind was racing, she had so many questions “You’re Paul Tyler, Deputy Station Chief in London, you’re supposed to be on our side” she bemoaned.
“Ah well espionage is not always that simple, sometimes it comes down to belief, sometimes economics, mostly often a bit of both”.
“And what drives you?”
“Mainly economics I’m afraid, that agency don’t pay that well!”
“And what have I got to do with this?” she queried.
“As I said economics, you’re valuable, well the information you hold is” he said examining his finger nails.
“Information!” she laughed “I’ve got no information, I’ve spent the last god knows how many days being tortured or fucked or both and not once has anybody asked me for information!”
He paused then replied, “Of course you have information, you are an M.I.7 operative, you may not think so but organisations will pay well for any information that can puts a chink in the big boys armour. They will pay well for what I can get out of you and when I’m finished I’ll sell you on to someone else who has a use for you.”
“I’ll not tell you anything freely, you know that”.
“Yes I know” he replied “but nevertheless I will get the information out of you, you are good value for money really, M.I.7 thinks you stole that data chip and have gone into hiding and they are looking for you in Europe. Nobody knows where you went or where you are now so I’ve got plenty of time.
“Fuck you” she spat “I’m giving you nothing you traitor”.
“Then Miss Midsummer you may find your stay here very uncomfortable”.
He gestured through the door and two guards filled the room and moved menacingly on Suzzanne. The naked agent shuffled back into the corner of the room trying to make herself as small as possible but the guards grabbed her arms and unceremoniously hauled her to her feet and out of the cell and across the corridor into a bigger cell. In the centre of the room stood a vertical articulated examination table with padded steel restraints at each corner. The table was mounted on a square steel pedestal which was bolted to the floor and around the sides of the pedestal where movable panels. Suzzanne was slammed against the upright surface by the guards and pinned there by their bulk whilst one of them cut the ties around her wrists before they simultaneous pulled her wrists around and upwards and fastened them into the restraints. “Ouch” she cried as her arms which and been behind her for so long were twisted and pulled. As they released their grip on her wrists she realised her feet were not on the floor and she was suspended. The guards turned their attention to her legs and cutting the ties away forced her legs into the lower restraints before stepping away. Suzzanne wriggled as her breasts, tummy and thighs pressed against the cold metal surface stimulating her nipples to peak, the wrist and ankle restraints gave her considerable freedom of movement, the guards watched appreciatively as her curvy buttocks jiggled about. Goldhill moved to a control box which hung from the ceiling like those used to control warehouse cranes and pressed several buttons with his thumb. The table whirred into life and Suzzanne felt it bending at her hips pulling her with it as it moved. The table slowly changed position until Suzzanne was bent at right angles from her hips, her torso now laying flat on the horizontal top of the table. She tugged at the restraints, they allowed her wrists to twist and her arms and legs were not under any tension but she was firmly bound to the table. Goldhill gestured for the guards to leave and then walked around the captive woman admiring the arch of her back curving down to the spread of her hips and curvaceous buttocks and firm slightly spread thighs. Suzzanne twisted around watching him over her shoulder, “Like what you see?” she purred.
“Yes indeed” he replied “but I’m not falling for your guile like that horny old General, I’ve got bigger fish to fry and I’ll not be distracted by pussy!, Still” and he ran his hand down over her buttock and between her thighs gently stroking her bare plump pussy before moving his hand up and using his fingers to spread her cheeks. She gritted her teeth expecting to feel a probing finger but he just circled a finger tip several times around her puckered ring before removing his hands. “mmmmmm” he murmured softly, “maybe later”.
“Now” he said “I want information from you, nothing classified because you won’t have that, general stuff, organisational structure, department heads, safe houses, phone numbers, dead drops, the sort of thing a field operative knows”.
“Go to hell “she replied.
“I thought that would be your response which is why I have had you brought here to give you some gentle persuasion and a chance to rethink.” He pressed a button on the control and she heard more whirring but the table remained still. Then moving into her field of vision she saw two articulated arms extending from either side of the table. Made of tubular shiny metal but with thin steel cables running between the joints it was clear they worked by some pulley system. As the arms rose up they positioned themselves on either side of her hips and to her horror she noted the end of each arm carried a flexible white perforated plastic paddle about a foot long. “Any thoughts before we begin Agent Midsummer?” he said smugly. She said nothing but turned her head away trying to prepare herself for what was about to happen.
She watched the distal joint of the arm begin to rotate backwards bringing the paddle with it tensioning a spring attached to the paddle. When it was almost parallel with the arm the paddle was released and the spring tension caused the paddle to flick back with a swishing sound. She flinched, this time the paddle had just swished through thin air but next time she knew it would be making contact with her exposed buttocks. Goldhill made a few minor adjustments remotely to the paddle arms and Suzzanne watched as smoothly and precisely they manoeuvred above her exposed bottom this time the paddles moving slowly , softly making contact with her skin as he set up their aim. Then the intensity of the whirring increased and she watched the paddles move swiftly into the “firing” position and stop. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut and tensed waiting for the impact but nothing happened. After a few seconds she opened one eye, Goldhill was standing holding the control , head cocked to one side looking at her smiling “Want to rethink?” he said,
“Get on with” she growled.
SWISH! THWAK! The first paddle made stinging contact, her buttock jiggled and then tensed almost simultaneously, SWISH, THWAK…… the second paddle struck home, SWISH THWAK……… , SWISH THWAK…………., the paddles began slapping in a slow steady rhythm and she started squirming in the bonds her eyes squeezed tight her teeth bared, after a minute of bombardment her buttocks were already pink and burning. The paddles did not strike in the same place each time but moved slightly each stroke slightly overlapping the previous one moving precisely across the whole curve of each buttock. After a further minute Goldhill stopped the machine, Suzzanne lay there panting her bottom displaying a bright red band over each globe. “Anything you want to tell me Agent Midsummer?” he enquired patronisingly. “Fuck you!” she hissed through bared teeth and he flicked the switch, SWISH THWAK, SWISH THWAK. SWISH THWAK, SWISH THWAK SWISH THWAK , the machine recommenced its torment. She twisted and fought with each stinging blow, her breathing panting and irregular. Her buttocks burned with an intensity she did not know existed, the pain made her want to cry out with each blow but she fought to hold it in. Goldhill watched intently, she was strong he thought. As he watched her twisting and writhing her buttocks jiggling bright red globes he wanted to hear her cry or scream. “I’m going to leave you now” he said “to think about your situation, you know what I want and you know how to make this stop.” She glared back at him but said nothing, but inside she was struggling not to plead with him to stop the spanking, and then the door closed and he was gone and she was alone. SWISH THWAK, SWISH THWAK!
Closing the door behind him he turned and placed his eye to the Judas hole. She was twisting and squirming on the table as the paddles rhythmically spanked her glowing buttocks. After a few more strokes he heard her first cry followed by another and another a split second after each strike and he felt a stirring in his groin. Her cries faded as he turned and walked away.
Inside the cell Suzzanne’s resolve not to cry had quickly crumbled, her bottom was burning now the searing pain intensified by each stroke.
Goldhill finished his coffee and considered his options. He would break her and get the information. He had a client who would pay handsomely for the low level knowledge she held. It wasn’t always about top drawer classified information, just basic insider knowledge could allow an enemy to infiltrate your system and cause havoc. He looked at his watch, fifteen minutes, she must have had enough by now; “The Spanker” had worked very effectively on that Mossad agent when other methods had failed and she had been a very tough nut. He wondered what had become of her; the Iranian Secret Police had been very keen to take her off his hands.
Hearing the cell door open Suzzanne bit down on her lip to stifle her cries as Goldhill crossed the room and stood in front of her. The paddles continued their rhythm as he turned her face towards him, her eyes were puffy from crying and tears streaked her cheeks. “Had enough?“ he said, she nodded silently. “Want to tell me anything?” she did not respond but held his gaze with her tearful eyes. He stared back, ten seconds, twenty, thirty, the silence broken only by the rhythmic SWISH THWAK!, he was impressed at her resilience, perhaps he had underestimated her.
“OUCH! yes you bastard make it stop OUCH ! OUCH! she suddenly yelled her resistance crumbling. He laughed and flicked the switch and the beating stopped. Slumping in her bonds she lowered her head to the table, it was wet with her tears. Walking behind her he saw that her buttocks were almost glowing bright pink and holding his hand a few millimetres above the skin he felt the heat radiating, “You could fry an egg on those” he laughed. He knew she had suffered no permanent damage but the level of discomfort was immense. “I know you are still going to refuse to tell me anything” he said “but you will have to eventually, this is just an example of what you can expect if you don’t comply and it will get worse. Now I’m going to have the guards put you back in your cell and you can think about it. He called out and the two guards reappeared. Freeing her arms they quickly pulled them behind her and fastened them with handcuffs, then releasing her ankles they lifted her from the table, her legs sagged and they took her weight under her arms as they carried her back across the corridor. She thought about resisting but she had no fight, the torture had almost broken her. The guards laid her facedown in the centre of the cell and left, Goldhill stood in the doorway. “Seriously Suzzanne, think about it, the methods will only get worse, you”,
“Fuck off you patronising bastard, you think I don’t know what’s in store for me once you have got what you want, I’d rather die now than give you what you want so go to hell” and she turned her face away. He stood for a moment then she heard the door close and the key rattle in the lock. She lay still, her buttocks still burned fiercely but at least she was off that table. She couldn’t imagine what methods he would use next, clearly they would not be conventional, she knew how to resist drugs, sensory overload and sleep deprivation, but spanking!!
|
|
|