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MIDDLE EASTERN INTERNMENT OF INTERROGATION AND TORTURE
PART THREE
THE CHOICE
Chapter One
The acrid odor’s stifling as her head reflexively twists back and forth. Swollen eyes squinting open, the room’s blurry through the crusted tears. The overwhelming pain renewed, the harsh dose of reality sits in as she finds herself still bound and stretched. Seeing the unfocused silhouette of the Captain of the guard stepping back, the broken capsule in his hand, she surreally hears her own mumbling voice, unintelligible, unrecognizable. Again closing her eyes, slowly shaking her head back and forth as she struggles to regain consciousness, she realizes it’s not just a nightmare but stark reality.
“So… You’re back with us… You hear me?... I know you do... Nod or be hoisted by those bulging bags!”
Staring toward his demanding voice, toward him, eyes slowly focusing, she can barely nod her head between the taut ropes stretching her ballooning breasts above eye level. Sensing hands across her aching flesh, the weights being elevated, the ropes slackening, her mind barely discerns what’s happening. Breasts dropping, the ropes burning as they’re unwrapped, tugged from deep inside her tit swollen flesh covering them, the new pain sears through her chest as the blood flows, pulses through her discolored mounds as they’re gruffly manipulated, each heartbeat like a spear being driven deeper and deeper into her.
“Huuummmpphhh!” A rasping breath, squinting her eyes as her head jerks back, she feels the last bindings rip at her bruised titflesh, from between her thighs as the hemp strands are tugged painfully away. Bruised breasts bouncing, swaying, her chin slumps across her breastbone as she stares toward the discolored imprints, the remnants of several tight loops of the harsh ropes causing her to tiptoe for so long.
Gripped by either shoulder, shoved, led along between a couple guards following the Captain, she stumbles to keep up, leg cramps, her pubic area sore, chaffed while she struggles to maintain her balance as she’s led back into the dank dungeon. Still bordering on coherency, led with her head down into the corridor of the convicted woman in chains, she slumps under the flickering torch in its iron holder high on the wall, stumbles into an open cell, falls flat against the straw stuffed makeshift mattress against a dank shadowed wall. The door shutting behind her, for the first time cupping, massaging her aching breasts, she hoists herself up, leans back against the rough stones, crosses her legs on the scattering straw.
The flickering light fluttering into the still open portal of the dark wooden cell door, getting somewhat settled, trying to control her aches, leaning back in her isolated quiet the grunts, moans of a woman filter through. Closing her eyes, stretching her arms, legs outward, trying to breathe without causing herself even more pain, she listens to the moans seeming to become louder, the frequent whimpering, the occasional squeals. Curling back even further, pressing her backside against the flat harsh wall, feeling the fresh tears tracing down her cheeks, dripping across her aching breasts, still cupping, gently rubbing her aching titflesh as she arches her shoulders forward to alleviate the throbbing aches, the woman’s unsettling whimpering moans continue, and continue from outside the door.
Squinting, unable to block out, to stop listening to the anguished sobs inaudible pleadings outside her cell, blinking, glancing toward the flickering light, shuffling on the straw mattress, still holding her aching breasts in her cupped fingers, she curls forward, slides her hands up across her ears. Frightened, confused, slowly rocking back and forth, thoughts of being in the dingy, damp cell, what she’s already been put through, she again glances toward the light, the sound of the tortured soul on the other side of the door. Louder sobs, occasional grunts, again and again her eyes drawn toward the corridor, her heart pounds a little harder, her chest throbbing, not just from the physical pain as again she finds herself starring toward the open portal, the horrendous, unending sounds.
Glancing around in the darkness, leaning forward, awkwardly kneeling, staggering to her feet, drawn toward the door, one step, another unstable step, finally within arms reach, reaching out, fingers on the bottom of the open slit, tiptoeing, the sounds louder, even more painstakingly pitiful, glancing out into the corridor, toward the flickering torch, toward the sounds off to the side, the portal slams shut. Jerking back her pinched fingers, total darkness. The tortured moans fading behind the sealed door, she stumbles back, tripping, falling on the harsh damp stone floor, her own grunts, muffled screams blanking out all other sounds. Crawling on hands and knees, scuffing across the floor toward the corner, toward the musty smell of the loosely packed straw piled into the makeshift mattress, she mumbles incoherently, ignores the flesh chaffing across her knees, her palms.
Curling herself into a semi-fetal ball, pressing against the wall, she closes her eyes, crosses her arms across her chest, tugs her raw knees up into her trembling midsection. Rocking herself back and forth, exhausted, bewildered, she slips off into an agonizing twilight, to certain nightmares.
Chapter Two
The door rattling, swinging open, she blinks, squints toward the daylight. The shadow stepping toward her, still laying on her side, rubbing her eyes with one hand while rising, supporting herself with her elbow, she focuses on the form approaching.
“Get up… Examination time.”
Painfully straightening, her knees folded in front of her, sitting upright she struggles to relate to the voice, a female voice, firm but also obviously female if not so feminine.
“I said up… Stand up now and remain perfectly silent!... And be still… I’m Doctor Krinski.”
The voice much firmer, the tone ominous, she obeys, shuffles, twists, struggles but stands upright while crossing her arms weakly in front of her chest, both breasts still swollen, aching to the touch, the nipples sensitive, tender as she glances up, sees the crisp, white nursing uniform in front of her.
“Now… Shoulders back… Chest out… Interlock your fingers behind your back, your hands resting across the small of your back… Now!”
Hesitantly obeying, breasts jaunting outward, jiggling, swaying as she searches to interlock her quivering hands behind her, she glances toward the woman’s face. Not Mid Eastern, yet not European, inhaling, holding her breath as the Doctor’s fingers reaches out, cups a breast, she remains silent to the dull pain.
“Time to examine you… To decide how much… How intense your interrogation may be… So I can report to the Sheik personally.”
Their eyes momentarily locking, the dark eyes of the Doctor’s appear intense, piercing. Glancing away, feeling the Doctor’s fingers melding her sore titflesh, whimpering to the touch, she nibbles across her lower lip, the mention of the Sheik barely registering.
“Push these out… I want them to separate… To stand upright for me to examine… Do it... Do it now!”
Arching slowly back, shoulders bowing as ordered, sensing the second hand cupping her other breast, tugging it outwards, fingers tweaking, twisting at her sore nipples, a low moan, another nibble across her lip while she clenches her fists, presses her fingernails into her palms behind her back, her bruised breasts again throb.
“Yes… Huh huh… Yes.” Almost whispering, cupping one breast, the other, tugging at each thickening nipple one at a time, the Doctor continues in her hushed, professional voice. “Yes… The bruising seems normal… The purplish imprints of the ropes… The nipple’s swollen… Yes… Huh huh… The remnants of a minor lashing… I see… And… And let’s see… Yes… Look’s like you’ve had an engagement with the voltage box… Yes… Yes, I’m certain.”
Listening, glancing down toward her bare breasts in the Doctor’s hands, the fingers melding, squeezing, stretching, she shuffles to keep her balance, softly moans.
“Let’s see the nipples now.” The voice still routine, the Doctor’s fingernails slip firmer across each nub, pinches and tugs. “Now… How’s this feel?”
“Huuumph!”
“And this?”
“Ahhhhh”
Twisting, stretching the nipples in opposite directions, giving both breasts a firm flip up and down, back and forth, causing them to bounce, jiggle in her grasps, the Doctor glances back and forth from one quivering breast to the other. “Very good… Healthy… Full.” Slipping her hands away, a teasing flick of her thumb across a jiggling nipple, she smiles. “Yes… They’ll be able to stand a great deal of stress… Carry quite a bit of weight… Now, let’s check between those legs… Okay, turn and bend over with your hands behind your head now.”
Still anxiously obedient, unlocking her fingertips from behind her back, slowly raising her arms, gripping the back of her neck, she shuffles around, leans forward.
“Head lower… I want that ass to stick up here.”
Bending further, head down, breasts swaying, smacking together, she automatically spreads her feet wider apart for balance. Blinking, staring toward the stone floor, seeing the outlines of the Doctor’s legs behind her from between her thighs, she inhales, holds her breath as she senses fingers flattening across her butt cheeks.
“Hold still… Don’t move.”
“Huumph!” Feeling a fingertip pressing across her rectum, the fingernail scraping, pushing inward, reflexively jerking, breasts again smacking together, struggling not to cry out she inhales another deep breath, grunts. Bowing her head further, clenching her fists, feeling the finger probe deeper, twist, curl, forcing her to tiptoe, she squints her eyes shut, struggles to remain flatfooted.
“Firm rectum… The sphincter muscles really grip tight… That’s good… Very good!”
The finger sliding slowly in and out, first one, then two knuckles deep, the other hand flattened across a rounded mound of her buttocks, she feels her aching breasts swaying back and forth, her hips quivering as she gnaws across her lower lip, maintains her humiliating position.
“Now… That other orifice… Let’s get a good look in it, too… See how much it’ll stretch for us… Don’t resist… Stay just as you are… Keep that butt up here for me… Don’t move.”
The voice still matter of fact, the finger still probing her rectum as the other hand slides down across her buttocks, slips between her thighs, again squinting, holding her breath, she feels a couple fingers separating the puffy folds of her labium, a thumb probing across her clit, flicking, brushing back and forth a couple times before plunging inward.
“Aaaaggghhhh!” Unable to suppress her squeal, the finger rimming her butt, a thumb plunging into her vagina, she rocks back and forth on her heels held somewhat steady by her stretching orifices, the finger, thumb pressing together inside her.
“Turn… Stand… Hands down at your sides… Obviously shoulders back.” Her fingers sliding out, the Doctor steps back a step.
Slowly straightening, turning, facing the Doctor, slipping her hands downward as ordered, she stares down toward the floor, remains silent as her naked body noticeably slumps.
“Now… You’ve been examined.” The Doctor directs. “You’re capable of being interrogated… To be assisted into confessing… To face your sentence of at least three years here of harsh punishment and intense rehabilitation… It’ll be up to you just how long it will take.” Glancing toward the cell door, a nod of her head, she continues. “Soon you’ll be out there like the others being interrogated… Or…”
Almost numb, glancing up into the doctor’s eyes, she mumbles. “Wha… What… Or what?”
“Confess… To me.” The Doctor states, again matter of fact as she steps forward, glances down at the bare breasts jaunting out toward her, gently cups them. “Then I can negotiate your punishment with the Sheik; get him to allow a brief… But to be truthful… A harsh punishment undoubtedly.” Melding, manipulating the bruised mounds, tweaking the nipples, smiling to herself as she bounces one, the other breast up and down in the palms of her hands, she continues. “Possibly no more then a month of punishments… Painful, even excruciating… But under my supervision.”
Releasing the discolored breasts, turning, stepping toward the cell door, she adds. “Another day in here alone… Listen to the sounds outside this door… That can be you out there starting tomorrow if you don’t allow me to help.” The cell door swinging open, shutting behind her, she glances in through the portal, adds. “Think about it… Meditate without the use of those ropes… I’ll be back tomorrow… You can give me your answer then… Me or the Captain and his guards.”
End Part Three
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