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MIDDLE EASTERN INTERNMENT OF INTERROGATION AND TORTURE
Part Four
Chapter One
Curled across the floor, the scattered straw, again the sounds from outside the cell door filter through the portal. Listening, covering her ears, thinking of the Doctor, her demands, she stares toward the door, the dim light from outside in the corridor. Exhausted both physically and mentally, yet afraid to drift off to sleep, she slowly rocks, presses back against the stone wall, closes her drooping eyes, presses her palms tighter across her ears to the echoing cries.
An agitated night, different bits and pieces of endless dreams, nightmares, she awakens to the clanking of the locks, the swinging open of the cell door. The light glaring through, the silhouette of the person entering, she squints her eyes, glances toward the approaching Doctor.
“Up!” Her voice firm, authoritative, she steps forward in her brilliant white uniform. “Up on your feet… Face me.”
Blinking, kneeling, standing with a hand flattening against the wall, she straightens, arches her shoulders, lets her hands brush down across her thighs. Eyes aching, blurred and swollen, staring down toward the dark stone floor, she tries to comprehend, to rationalize what she’s being subjected too.
“You’re going to confess to me today in my facility… Or your interrogations will begin out in the chambers with them… And you know persuasive their methods can be.”
Again the voice firm, the threat implausible, either choice is unimaginable as she closes her eyes, slowly shakes her head back and forth, the words sticking in her throat even as she mumbles practically incoherently. “Con… Confess to you… Or… Or be interrogated by… By them… The guards?”
“Yes… Today… Either me or them.” The voice assertive, the Doctor steps forward within arms reach. “You’ll be occupying one of those stools with the other sluts later on… Or be on my table for the rest of the day… Yes indeed!”
Feeling the hands on her shoulders, glancing up toward the Doctor, she senses the pressure of the fingertips, her shoulders bowing back. Obediently not resisting, breasts thrusting outward, she feels the fingers sliding downward, across the outer bulges of her breasts, cupping, pressing the mounds together, the areolas, nipples rubbing between the Doctor’s hands closing inward.
“You’ll be coming with me now… Remain quiet and follow with hands behind your head.”
A curling fingertip, a thumbnail clamping across the bud of a nipple, the Doctor turns, leads toward the door. Awkwardly following, tiptoeing as her breasts’ hoisted upwards, stretched, she’s led into the corridor, past the guard sitting at his table, the numerous doors previously passed the other day. Hobbling along barefooted, her breast stretching, jerking between the clenching fingernails, her eyes focus on the floor in front of her as they pass other guards. Suppressing moans as she’s led into another hallway, she’s turned toward an entrance, the door unlocked, shoved open in front of her.
“My office… See there?… That’s a gynecologist table… You’ve certainly seen them before, haven’t you… Now go climb on it… Get in position with feet in stirrups, hands above your head and grip those handles.”
The area bright behind the shutting door, basically an all white and stainless steel background, it’s obviously a typical modern examination room with the table dominating the center of the floor. The surgical lamps above, she hesitantly steps toward the table, turns and positions herself on her back with legs spread, feet in the stirrups one foot at a time. Raising her arms above her head, feeling herself arching above the padded cushion behind the small of her back, she grips the handles, lays spread-eagled under the lights flickering on.
“Now for a more thorough exam… But first something to help keep you stationary for me… A kinda’ body cast……..”
Watching her stepping toward the table with a pair of long slender surgical rods in hand as she speaks, feeling her taping one down each side of her ribcage from armpits to thighs, she suppresses a weak moan as the Doctor reaches in the stainless steel bowl beneath the flat surface, unrolls a soaked gauze wrap, starts wrapping. Beginning with her spread legs in the stirrups, first the left foot, then calf, on up past the knee, across the thigh, the roll unwinds to its end. Another full spool, the right foot up to the top of the thigh, that roll depleted, the third rolls’ used on the left arm from the hand down to the shoulder, the forth roll completely encasing the right arm.
“How’s that feel?... Feel the warmth as it hardens… Forms?” The Doctor asks as she dips another couple rolls through the glistening pan. “Now… Just about finished… Let’s get you tightened up here.”
Watching through her welling eyes beneath the glaring lights, feeling the dampness, the warmth encasing her extremities, she feels the soaking gauze being applied across her stomach starting just below her bellybutton, soaking her pubic mound, leaving off just above her spreading slit. Her hips maneuvered above the cushion, the wetted gauze pressed behind the small of her back as she’s arched upwards, her still bared breasts jiggle as another wraps’ wound around her shoulders, across her sternum, circling her throat to just below her chin.
“There… Just about how I want you... Naked in the right spots… Almost done… Now close your eyes.”
The voice matter of fact, the wrappings already becoming a brilliant white, she glances down across her outthrust bare breasts rising above her arched chest before squinting. Feeling the Doctor’s fingers slipping a couple cotton swabs across her blinking eyes, wrapping yet another strand of damp gauge across her forehead, the bridge of her nose, around the back of her head leaving her in virtual darkness, she feels helpless, vulnerable, terrified.
Feeling her exposed breasts being patted a couple times, the palm of a hand across her bare pubic area, she hears the Doctor’s stern voice. “Yes… Everything’s still exposed just like I want it… Now, let’s give the cast a few minutes or so to cure before we get started… I’ll be back in a few minutes… Just relax while I get prepared.”
Chapter Two
The plaster of paris coated wraps curing into a hardened cast, her body stiff, immobile, she waits, and waits. Spread-eagled face up in her aching position, anticipating, listening for the faintest of sounds in her darkened confinement, she senses the initial touches across her hollowing stomach gliding upwards, tracing the outline of her protruding ribcage as her body reflexively twitches. Her bare flesh tingling, quivering beneath the roving hands gently circling, the tips of the fingers teasingly flicking back and forth across her sternum, tracing in opposite directions across her bare flesh, away from one another climbing upwards across the inner slopes of her outthrust breasts, she holds back a moan. The slightest of whisks back and forth across her hardening nipples, sensing the nubs responding, again her body uncontrollably twitches in the cast to the caressing touches.
A firm tweak of a nipple, another firm tweak of the other followed by a gentle tug and twist of both nubs simultaneously, she again arches her shoulders as much as possible above the table, awkwardly follows the maneuvering of the clenching fingertips raising, stretching away from one another above her. Another suppressed moan with a slightly harsher stretching apart of her pressured nipples, again she attempts to arch upwards, again lies back with a shallow groan as the fingertips slip away release the thickening nubs, begin gliding down the center of her bare chest, across her sternum, sloping down across the outline of her ribcage into the quivering cavity of her hollowing stomach. Clenching her fingers into tightening fists, her toes curling as she stares into the darkness, she senses her heartbeat’s rhythm in her chest escalating, the uncertainty of what’s next as she senses the fingernails glide down across the partial cast circling her waist above her pubic mound, flick across her exposed vaginal area, tweaking, spreading the puffy folds of her labia gently apart between her straining thighs.
Sensing a flicking brush across her protruding clit, another, yet another back and forth, lightly, teasingly, she feels her thighs reflexively quivering, raising against the cast, pressing upwards to accept the caressing fingertips. Another stifled moan, the touches gently, caressingly manipulating the responding nub, even with the trepidation, the anguish of her predicament she feels the stirring deep inside, the involuntary responses of her knotting stomach, quivering hips.
“Look at that tight little slit responding to my touch… You’re actually enjoying yourself for the moment, aren’t you?... I see you like your pussy stroked, don’t you?” The voice just as caressing as the physical treatment, the fingers glide across her swelling nub, sliding inside the moist gapping slit quivering between the freshly dried castings circling her vaginal area. “I think I’m going to get you to cum already if I’m not too careful… You want to cum, don’t you?... I can see it… The way you’re humping back, there… Yes.” More careful strokes, a steady rhythm being followed with fingers melding beneath her arched pubic area; the manipulations become a titillating masturbation of flexing, probing feminine fingers.
“Huuuhhh… Ahhhhhh… Ahhhhhh!” Moans, mostly stifled as she nibbles across a lip, the hands still probing, tweaking, masturbating her stiff form, she uncontrollably responds to the feminine fingers curling, teasingly stroking, pushing her closer to an inevitable climax as she feels the juices forming between her twitching thighs, the fingers burrowing inward, stretching at her moist orifice.
“Agggggghhhhhh!” Feeling a crisp pinch, a firm tug upwards across her engorged clit as the fingers slip away, her fists clench as she arches upwards, presses against the firm moldings of the plaster of paris confining her. “Ohhhhhh!”
“Don’t want to get you off already… Now do we?” The voice firmer, closer to her ear, she feels her clit suddenly released, a nipple reached, tweaked and massaged as she senses the fingers leave from between her thighs, slips across her naked breasts. “You should see how thick these nipples are getting… You’re really getting raunchier by the minute… Push these titties up here for me to play with some more!”
Obeying, feeling fingers resting across her responding nipples, spreading, melding, the hardened nubs, she pushes upwards as she arches toward the touch, the similar sensations spreading through her chest as her breasts are massaged, manipulated through the flexing fingers. Relaxing back, she blinks, and blinks again into the darkness covering her squinting eyes as she hears the soft voice whispering near her ear. “Enjoy this… Because when you cum… I’m piercing your tits… Then your clit… For the chain’s ‘O’ rings you’re going to be wearing.”
END PART FOUR
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