Making Yasmin Talk

Making Yasmin Talk – Part Two

Yasmin Hamad has been betrayed and arrested on suspicion of passing information to her lover, an official at the US Embassy. Her young cousin, Meena Fahad, has been arrested with her. Meena is first caned then raped by Colonel Mehmet Behadri’s sadistic guards. Yasmin is forced to watch Meena being tortured…and now it is her turn.

The basement room was hot and humid, the heavy moist air rank with the smell of bodies and the sharp ozone tang of electricity. Despite the whirring fans, the powerful spotlights focused on the middle of the rough concrete floor only added to the heat. The metal chair frame stood alone in the lights, the floor beneath still damp from where they had been working on the other woman the afternoon before. The only difference was that the chair was now fixed in position with clamps and four bolts screwed through them into fittings set into the concrete.

Yasmin Hamad was brought in, still whimpering and crying after watching those men using the cattle prod and the cane on Meena in that other room. Colonel Behadri was waiting and with him, half-hidden in the dimness, was another officer, also dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. There was something in his expression and intent stare that made Yasmin shudder even though she had no way of knowing that Lieutenant Modi was the Colonel’s favoured interrogator, a man whose sexual pleasure was the torture of women, especially young, attractive girls.

The guards pushed her into the middle of the room next to the chair frame. ‘Take your dress off now,’ Colonel Behadri said, almost casually, ‘and your bra, you won’t be needing them.’

Yasmin stared at him in horror. Even though she’d just seen how they were ill-treating Meena, she had stupidly thought that they would ask her questions, questions she could answer so the would just let her go and not…

‘No…no I won’t…I saw…saw what they were doing to Meena…you can’t!

I don’t want too. I won’t... I won’t get undressed...I won’t…you can’t make me!’

‘Stupidity, of course we can! Either you undress now…or the two men who brought you here will hurt you severely then strip you by force…it’s something they enjoy doing. I really wouldn’t upset them if I were you.’ He paused, ‘so will you do as you’re told or…’

Colonel Behadri and the Lieutenant smiled in satisfaction watching the young woman fumbling to undo the buttons. He walked across the lighted area and sat down on a comfortable office chair, tilting it back on two legs and taking his ease. Standing behind the trembling figure of the young secretary but also hidden in the shadows, the two guards watched with cruel anticipation as the pleasurable preliminaries to another young woman’s torture continued.   

Moments later Yasmin’s dress and bra lay discarded on the stained concrete floor… only her black silk thong remained. She immediately curled her arms across her body, vainly trying to shield herself from the hot gaze of the men. Yasmin was suddenly even more aware of the way the slim man was watching her, … and the look of cruel anticipation on his face as she undressed in front of the four men. 

‘Hold her up now…’ the Colonel grinned. ‘It’s just routine, Miss Hamad, Lieutenant Modi is going to check you’re not concealing anything before we begin.’ Enjoying the familiar game, Omar, the muscular sergeant who was another other regular member of the Colonel’s interrogation team with the other guard, immediately grabbed Yasmin’s wrists, twisting her arms so she was forced up onto her toes. The lieutenant put his notebook down and walked slowly round the desk to stand in front of the young secretary.

He took his time, enjoying her fear as he touched her. His fingertips traced across the curves of her breasts…and he smiled as the tips roused and stiffened at his touch. He traced down her flanks and along the thin waist cord pulled high on the curve of the young secretary’s hips. With the man so close, Yasmin could see the hot, cruel pleasure in his eyes and smell the musk of cologne, cigarettes and sexual arousal as he touched her body.

His fingertips slid across the girl’s coppery, sweat-soaked skin, moving lower and lower with each touch making Yasmin’s stomach muscles flutter and shiver. She gasped aloud when his fingertips touched the thin band, shuddering and biting her lip when his fingertips traced lower to stroke across the taut pouch of silk between her thighs so very gently. He smiled as he touched the betraying wetness, rubbed her fingers together and smiled. He lifted one finger to her mouth and rubbed the coating of slippery juices across her lips.

‘A hot little slut, Colonel, wet already.’ His fingers returned to cup the taut wet fabric then pressing the swollen labia together. He smiled.  ‘Tell me, Yasmin, who do you like fucking best… is it men or women?’ He smiled at the young woman’s sudden blush of shame and gently squeezed the lips of her cunt together. He slid his right hand across her bottom and up into the cleft, easing the thin cord of the silk thong from between Yasmin’s buttocks.

Suddenly, Yasmin lifted onto tiptoe then bucked hard, her body arcing forwards as the Lieutenant’s forefinger slid deeper broaching the tender rosette of her anus.

‘Aaah, n-n-noooo don’t, p-please don’t tou…Aaaaaah!’

The reflex thrust of the girl’s hips pushed her against the fingers cupping her cunt lips. The Lieutenant squeezed gently, moving fingers and thumb to work the swollen outer lips to and fro against each other; wet flesh sliding on wet flesh until the girl moaned and bucked with unwanted pleasure. At the same time his right forefinger probed the girl’s anus.

‘Oh God, oh please, p-p-p-please don’t…’

The Colonel leaned back in his chair and watched his Lieutenant’s expert fingering of the girl’s cunt and anus for a few more minutes. Cries of ‘d-don’t’ were giving way to more urgent, pleading sounds and hisses of ‘pleeeeese’. He chuckled. ‘He’s good, isn’t he, Yasmin… mind you, we already know how much you enjoy fucking foreigners… especially rich Americans. American spies called… Robert Masters… I believe?’

He watched for a few more moments. ‘Lieutenant, I don’t think Miss Hamad needs those any more.’ He nodded at the girl’s groin and the lieutenant grinned. He ran his fingertips under the waist string and peeled the wet silk away, pulling the young secretary’s thong down until it slipped to the floor and revealing the naked triangle of Yasmin’s sex.

‘How clever of you to be so well prepared…’ the Lieutenant’s voice was cruel with mockery as he studied the neatly trimmed patch of black hair on the young woman’s mound and the deep, in-rolling slit between the bare shaved lips of her engorged labia. The evidence of her arousal was clear. Her cunt lips and inner thighs were wet and shiny with her juices and the plump outer lips were swollen and parted so that they could all see the pink inner folds and the vee of flesh guarding the paler bead of her clitoris. ‘Such intimate grooming makes things so much more accessible I find.’

The lieutenant reached up and cupped the young woman’s cunt lips again. This time the was no fabric, however flimsy, in the way so his fingertips could tease and stroke the protruding inner lips and the sensitive edges of her cunt slit unimpeded. In a few minutes his skilful masturbation had Yasmin shivering and panting with arousal and her building orgasm. This time there was only a moan of need when he eased his other hand back between her buttocks to slide his forefinger back into the shuddering young secretary’s anus.

The Colonel grinned, watching the nineteen-year-old girl’s increasingly wanton sexual movements as the lieutenant continued fondling her anus and cunt with tormenting skill. A few minutes later his smile widened even more when, despite the protests, he noticed she was shuffling her feet and edging her knees apart as she responded to the expert masturbation. He’d seen Lieutenant Modi do this so many times to the younger, prettier ones they arrested…but he always got a particular thrill of watching him bring a girl or young woman so to cumming, coaxing and stimulating her to that unwanted, humiliating climax in front of a group of grinning men.

Yasmin’s denials and protests became increasingly incoherent, the tone and her movements more urgent and pleading as the slow, clever masturbation made the nineteen-year-old wetter and more aroused. Yasmin knew the man was going to make her cum and there was nothing she could do to stop it…even worse, she was now so aroused that she didn’t want him to stop. No, all she wanted was that final stimulation, that extra touch that would allow her to reach the orgasm she wanted so badly. 

That was what he had been waiting for. With Yasmin gasping and panting on the brink of cumming, the lieutenant laughed and took his hand away. ‘Oh no, no, Miss Hamad, not yet, you’ve got things to tell us first.’

‘Aaaah…p-p-pleeese!’

Colonel Behadri clicked his fingers. ’Quite right… it’s time for Miss Hamad to tell us all about those American businessmen… and the messages she delivers to them…put her on the chair!’

Yasmin Hamad shuddered and wailed in frustration. The frustration quickly turned into a swearing, wrenching attempt to get free as she fought and struggled to break the grip of the two guards. She clawed at their fingers, twisting and turning until one of them suddenly jerked her off balance. Together they pushed her backwards until she was forced to straddle the metal chair frame.

Sergeant Omar reached across and casually pinched her right nipple in a vicelike grip while the other stood heavily on her left foot. The shock of the twin assaults threw her off balance, allowing them to press her down onto the bare metal, her thighs splayed wide over the sides; her feet tucked backwards.

Through her tears the young secretary saw the lieutenant walking over from a small table, half hidden in the shadows that held what looked like some kind of electrical equipment and a clutter of other things. Things Yasmin had noticed when she was brought in but had tried so hard not to think about.  A bundle of leather straps dangled from his right hand. Seeing Yasmin’s panic-stricken expression, he licked lips once again and smiled gently…

‘No, don’t, don’t touch me you bastards. You can’t do this; I don’t know anything, please, please… aaaah!’

Yasmin gasped and yelled when one of the men pulled her foot even further behind her, lifting her ankle and holding it there while the Lieutenant used a nylon cable tie to secure it it high up against the junction of the seat and the back leg of the chair. Moments later Yasmin’s other foot was secured in the same way. With her legs doubled back, she could feel the tubular side rails biting across her splayed thighs as she tried to hold herself in position on the frame.

Without warning, the Sergeant clamped his forearm across her throat, holding her still and helpless. Yasmin tried to scream as her wrists were cinched together with another tie then again as a second strap was tightened round her upper arms. Tightening that one cinched her elbows together, straining her shoulders back and thrusting her breasts forwards…presenting them for her torturer’s attention.

Without any warning the two of them bent her upper body forwards, someone wrenched her arms upwards, then down over this time over the top rail of the chair. Her bound arms were pulled down hard and her wrists cinched tightly against the crossbar where the seat rail joined the frame. The bar digging into the tender skin of her upper arms forced her to arch her torso backwards even though it meant that her breasts were thrust out even more prominently.

With the young secretary’s arms and ankles secured the man let her go. Yasmin panted and gasped for breath, her chest heaving with her efforts to draw breath. Now the two of them, took their time positioning and tightening the other straps, making sure that her thighs were splayed as wide apart as possible. She tried to fight of course, trying her hardest to struggle. But since she was effectively only able to arch her back, flex her fingers and toes and move her head there was nothing she could do stop them.

Within a few minutes of the Colonel’s quiet command, Yasmin Hamad, an unimportant nineteen year old secretary in an obscure government department, was helpless, naked and strapped down into a torture chair… the same chair that woman who had betrayed her had occupied less than forty-eight hours before…   

The Colonel took his time studying the young woman’s obscenely displayed figure while he lit another cigarette. He smiled and nodded to Lieutenant Modi. ‘Very good, Lieutenant, she’s all yours.’

The Lieutenant walked to the chair, leaned over Yasmin and lazily twined the fingers of his left hand in her long black hair. Deliberately and slowly he pulled her head backwards until she was staring up into the blinding spotlights. ‘Now… this is the point where you tell me all about your American… and what you were giving him…apart from a good fuck that is.’

He didn’t finish but cupped the firm globe of her right breast with his other hand. ‘Pretty, and sensitive too, aren’t they…’ he murmured, his thumb gently stroking the long hard stub of her nipple. He smiled as the young secretary bucked and shivered at his caress. ‘You’ll be amazed just how sensitive this little peak can be… if you are stubborn.’

She pleaded with him, her voice frantic with terror. ‘I don’t know what you want, really I don’t. Robert is American, a businessman… He’s no spy… just a friend, nothing more… Please, stop this, please…’

The Lieutenant sighed sarcastically. ‘Wrong answer Yasmin, completely wrong…’ He looked down then without warning pinched and twisted her right nipple in a single vicious movement. Yasmin arched backwards with a shrill scream of agony. ‘She’s bucking up too much, I want another strap across under her tits.’ The lieutenant released his hold on her breast but continued to study the young woman as the sergeant fastened another, wider strap just beneath her breasts and round the back of the chair under her arms.

‘Yasmin gave a strangled gasp as the big sergeant pulled the buckles so tight that her flesh bulged over the edges of the supple leather band. This time when he twisted her other nipple she could only strain up against the strap a little way. ‘Better, don’t want you wriggling too much, after all remember what they were doing to poor little Meena? The thing they used to tickle her while we were watching, you remember how she screamed?’

Yasmin remembered only too well.

She’d been dragged out of the cell and along a dimly lit corridor. The one in the chair watching her had been waiting outside a door. Even though she had no idea who he was she knew he was in charge. She heard one of the men call him ‘Colonel’ as they held her in front of him. She remembered how neat and clean he looked; crisp white shirt open at the neck, black trousers with a sharp crease and expensive looking shoes. She saw the glint of gold from his watch. But what made her really scared was his expression. He looked at her with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes as he studied her body. It was a cruel smile of sadistic anticipation as he opened the door. ‘There’s something I want you to see, Miss Hamad…Yasmin,’ he’d said.

Yasmin remembered being pushed into the room and hearing a horrible gasping bubbling noise coming from the figure in front of her. There were men in the room but all she could stare at was the naked girl who was sitting astride a metal frame with her body bent forwards. She was bent forwards because her arms were strapped together behind her back and hoisted painfully up towards the ceiling by a rope. One of the men walked over and said something like, ‘she’s ready for you, Sir,’ then lifted up the girl’s head by her hair

‘NO…OH NO! PLEEESE…NOOOOOOOO! MEENA! You can’t, pleeese! PLEESE STOP IT!’

Yasmin had screamed when she realised the girl was Meena. She was making the bubbling noise because there was a plastic ring holding her jaws and mouth wide open – a ring held in place by tight straps so all she could do was drool and make wet gobbling noises.

The Colonel let her look at her cousin and continue her pleading for a bit longer then held up his hand. Yasmin stopped knowing that to disobey would only make things worse…for both of them. ‘Your cousin has been most helpful…she’s explained all about your American friend and been entertaining my men. Now, before we ask you to give us the rest of that story, she’s going to help us show you what happens to people who decide not to co-operate...’ He looked at the short black stick-like object in the guard’s hand and shook his head. ‘No, no, not yet…let’s keep things simple for Miss Hamad…start with the cane…another twenty strokes will do.’

The guards had forced Yasmin round to the side of the metal frame and she gasped in horror. Meena had been whipped or caned so hard that her bottom and thighs were a mass of thin purple-red lines. Some of the marks crossed others. Yasmin could see little smeared dots of blood against Meena’s olive skin.

The men had grinned and laughed at the Colonel’s order. The guard picked up a thin, pale yellow rod and flicked it up and down so it whirred in the air. Yasmin shuddered. She had only been disciplined with a cane once or twice but she still remembered how much it had hurt. They had tortured poor Meena so much already and now they were going to cane her again and she couldn’t do anything to stop them.

Meena had wrenched and wriggled madly as she saw the man holding the cane, her head shaking from side making drools of saliva flick onto her cheeks and breasts. Yasmin remembered trying to reach forwards to comfort her but being dragged back by the guards.

She remembered the horrible wet ‘swick’ sound each time the cane hit the taut curves of Meena’s buttocks…and how Meena jolted and arched forwards, muscles shivering, with each stroke. Yasmin had screamed in protest.

‘NO…NOOOO...PLEEESE…DON’T! PLEEEESE STOP…PLEEES!’

She remembered thinking that Meena, in her agony, looked like a jockey riding on the frame, her body surging back and forwards, legs straining and jerking, head tilted back and her back arched with her breasts bouncing and jiggling wildly. She’d watched them give her ten awful strokes then the Colonel had held up his hand. At first she’d though he’d listened to her protests…but he’d moved very close and whispered in her ear. ‘Watch carefully Miss Hamad…there are other, more unpleasant ways to use a cane to discipline young ladies.’ Then he’d just looked across at the guard and said, quite casually, ‘another ten…in the cunt this time.’

Yasmin wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. Someone had brought a low box and put it on the left of the frame. The guard had climbed on it then turned so he was looking at Meena’s bottom. Before Yasmin realised what he was doing he steadied himself using his left hand to hold Meena’s upraised arms then brought the cane whirring down between her spread buttocks. For a moment Meena didn’t react at all…then she arched back and a wild hooting cry of agony filled the small room.

The colonel had frowned and walked round to stand behind Meena. The guard changed position slightly. This time the sound of the impact was different, like a piece of wet material being slapped against a rock and Meena’s slobbering screams became even wilder and more agonised.

He’d crooked his finger and Yasmin had been pushed round behind the frame. From there she’d been able to see how much the bars splayed Meena’s thighs apart. Not just that but, because her cousin was bent forwards, Yasmin could see the split bulge of her cunt and the tight rosette of her anus were completely exposed. She tried to look away when the third stroke snapped across the exposed outer lips of Meena’s cunt. The guard had twisted her head back and held her hair so she was forced to watch every horrible moment of her cousin’s cruel torture.

The next two strokes actually cut right up between the labia. Yasmin saw the fine spray of wetness as the pale rod snapped against the moist inner lips and Meena’s swollen clitoris. Her scream was a cry of pure agony.

Meena fainted at the eighth stroke. The Colonel had waited for a few moments then flicked his fingers and held out his hand. One of the guards handed him the black sticklike rod. ‘Now Miss Hamad, this is a cattle prod.’ He’d showed her the two rounded terminals protruding from one end and pressed the switch. She remembered the fizzing crackle as a fat blue-white spark danced between the brass stubs, and the odd, sharp electrical smell. He took his thumb off the switch and walked over to Meena’s slumped figure. ‘Let me show you how it works.’

He had stroked the end of the prod across Meena’s sweat-slick skin. Yasmin had somehow known what he was going to do but she just stared at the wet swollen lips of Meena’s cunt as the Colonel delicately positioned the rod so one brass terminal touched the rim of her slit on either side. ‘Time to wake your cousin up from her nap…’

‘Zzzzzzzzt’

‘HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!’

Meena’s eyes bulged wide open and she surged upright, all her muscles rigid and shivering with the effect of the current. It was only on for five seconds but when he lifted his thumb from the switch, Meena slumped forward, her breath coming in huge gulps as though she just run a race. The Colonel smiled and moved the rod very gently until Meena’s clitoris was between the blunt terminals. ‘Watch and learn, Miss Hamad…watch and learn…’

‘Zzzzzzzt!’

Meena snapped back in another arch of agony, muscles locked in spasm as the current seared her clit. He’d smiled at her again when he moved the prod up until the brass terminals touched her anus. This time Meena’s squeal of agony had been even louder. She had been forced to stand their watching as he’d used the cattle prod on her anus and clitoris ten more times before Meena fainted again.

That was when he’d ordered the guards to take Yasmin to this room.

In the room Colonel Behadri relaxed while he puffed contentedly on his cigarette. He knew that the young secretary had been remembering what they had done to her cousin, realising that it was now her turn. She stared across at him and then sideways with sheer horror at the short black rod the lieutenant was holding in his right hand. The cattle prod looked just like the other one, except that the end with the brass prongs was red, not black. The lieutenant held it towards her and pressed the button on the handle. She tried vainly to twist away, staring at the fizzing spark arcing between the electrodes. ‘Oh yes, Miss Hamad, this comes next.’

Putting the prod down, he took the tip of Yasmin’s left breast between forefinger and thumb and rolled it gently while watching the nipple rouse and stiffen. Satisfied with the results of his ministrations, he brought her right nipple to the same jutting hardness then reached over to the small table, picked up a tube and squeezed a clear gel onto his fingers. He gripped the young secretary’s now swollen teats, rubbing his slippery fingertips round the stubs. He chuckled as she continued to pant and shiver, staring down at the glistening peaks of her breasts and trying to ignore the betrayal of her own body.

The Lieutenant picked up the cattle prod and waited for the Colonel’s brief nod.  ‘So, Miss Hamad let’s begin,’ he said softly and touched her shoulder with the copper prongs, ‘just a taste.’

‘Zzzzzzt!’

‘Ha-aaaah!’

‘Hurts, doesn’t it. But some places are so much more sensitive,’ he smiled and traced the prongs around the edge of her aureole and then moved the end of the rod until the hard peak of her right nipple was between the blunt copper studs. ‘Tell me about Mr Masters,’ he said…and pressed the button on the handle very briefly.

‘NAAAAAAAARRRRRRGHHH!’

Yasmin Hamad slammed back, her body curving in a quivering arch as her muscles went in spasm with the shock. Her scream echoed round the room then turned into a series of sobbing gasps as he took the prod away. ‘It’s so easy really, just a little touch…’ He moved his hand and touched the rod to her left breast, one prong resting on the darker circle of her aureole the other just touching the very tip of her nipple and pressed the switch again.

‘GAAAAARRRH…G-G-GAAAAH!’

The guards moved closer, watching intently as the lieutenant used the cattle prod with sadistic skill. He shocked her ten more times, five contacts to each breast. Each time he paused and tormented her by touching the rod to her skin in different places, her abdomen, her underarms and her inner thighs.

He continued smiling each time she jerked and shuddered, anticipating the shock that didn't come…that time. Then taking his sadistic pleasure he waited until she was trembling and whimpering with terror before touching the peak of her breast again…making quite sure she could see that one of the brass electrodes was just grazing the swollen tip of her nipple. And then….

‘AAAAARRH! NAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGH!’

‘Tell me…’

‘ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHH! Nooooooo, ah, the pain, p-please, no, it hurts, p-p-p-leeeeeease…!’

‘Who gave you the messages?

‘ZZZZZZT!’

NAAAAARRRRRRGH!’

‘What did Robert Masters give you in return…?’

‘ZZZZZZT!’

NAAAAARRRRRRGH!’

The lieutenant waited, letting the shuddering, heaving breaths calm a little before repeating the question. Yasmin continued to shake her head, her eyes screwed tightly shut, as she tried to ride the pain blazing in her breasts. The lieutenant smiled at the sergeant, making an unmistakable rubbing gesture with thumb and forefinger as he did so.

He smiled in return, moved behind the chair then leaned over the pinioned young secretary and gripped each swollen nipple between forefinger and thumb, rolling the scorched peaks slowly from side to side. Suddenly he pinched his fingers and thumbs together then twisted his wrists. Yasmin’s eyes popped open and she arched up in agony… She stared down at the man’s thick, callused fingers digging into the tips of her breasts… then her head titled upwards and a single piercing scream echoed from the thick walls of the underground room… a scream that went on and on as her torturer continued to squeeze and twist the swollen peaks… very slowly.

Finally, at a nod from the lieutenant, he let go so the soft globes bounced and jiggled with the nineteen year old’s sobbing breaths. Yasmin stared down at the throbbing tips of her breasts. In her ear, the lieutenant’s voice was soft and without pity. ‘Still trying to be brave, Miss Hamad…’

The girl’s eyes widened in disbelief and outrage as he lifted the prod and slid it over the oiled flesh until the erect nipple of her left breast was again between the copper electrodes.  

‘Oh please don’t, please you can’t hurt me again… I’ve told you… I DON’T KNOW ANYTHIN…YYYAAAAAAARGH!’

‘Zzzzzzzzzzzzt!’

The final few words disintegrated into a scream of agony

Lieutenant Modi carefully positioned the prod so Yasmin’s right nipple was between the brass electrodes and pressed the switch again…

‘Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!’

‘YEEEEEEAAARRRRGGGHHH! No-no-no-no, ah, no, please, please, PLEEEESSSSSEEE! NOOOOOOOO!’

Yasmin Hamad fainted.

‘No stamina at all these girls…’ The Colonel said dismissively as the lieutenant yanked the young secretary’s head back by the hair. Lieutenant Modi studied her tear-stained face more closely. ‘You’re hiding something, Miss Hamad… I know it.’ He looked at the guards. ‘Wake the bitch up.’ Moments later Yasmin was spluttering and coughing as a bucket of cold water slammed into her face. Lieutenant Modi waited until she had finished gasping and choking. ‘Very well, Miss Hamad, since you want to be difficult let us try something else.’

Yasmin Hamad shook the water from her face and looked up at the hard, pitiless faces of the Lieutenant, Colonel and the guards. ‘G-g-go f-f-fuck yourself, you bastards…t-told you… n-n-nothing to say…’

The Lieutenant smiled and gripped the young secretary’s chin with one hand. He squeezed so her lips pouted out then shook her head gently from side to side. ‘So stupid,’ he said softly, ‘you and that other slut have only had a little tickle so far…you’ve no idea of all the truly unpleasant things we can do to young ladies who won’t co-operate.’ Letting her chin go he straightened up and looked down at the way she was strapped to the chair frame. ‘The bitch wants to do things the hard way. Get her legs spread…I want her wide open…then we’ll see how much she likes having her cunt tickled.’

Yasmin screamed as she saw the gleam of a knife blade, only to gasp with short-lived relief when the guard only used it to cut away the ties cinching her ankles to the chair seat. But there was no freedom. Even as she tried to flex her knees, ropes were tied to her ankles before being fed through rings set into the concrete wall high up on either side of the room.

Lieutenant Modi knew exactly what she was thinking. That was why he waited until he was sure that both guards were ready, holding the ropes taut but not tight, before of bending over the shivering secretary to unbuckle the thigh straps.

Yasmin Hamad though she had a chance…just a little one…when they undid those straps. But she was wrong. Before she could even bring her thighs together both guards leaned all their weight on the ropes and her legs were wrenched wide apart. She struggled as much as she could, trying to resist but they kept pulling, grinning broadly as they strained her slim, toned legs upwards and outwards to either side and forcing Yasmin into an obscene splits.

Colonel Behadri just sat and watched impassively while the stretching tension in her legs lifted the young secretary’s bottom from the chair frame so her cunt and anus were obscenely exposed by the relentless pull of the ropes. Lieutenant Modi watched her struggles, waiting until the tension in the ropes was enough to hold her securely for the torture to come. At his nodded signal the guards tied the ropes securely leaving Yasmin pinioned by her legs and the wide belly-strap holding her against the chair frame. With the tension in her body, her hips canted up and her upper body arched back, she was completely exposed to the cruel attentions of her tormentors.

She stared defiantly into the dimness beyond the lights as the sadistically grinning sergeant moved the small table she’d noticed earlier. As well as a jumble of wires there was a square metal box on the top. He dragged a chair across then sat down. His white teeth gleamed in the dimness as he adjusted some sort of controls on the box. She couldn’t see what he was doing but she could see there were two red wires plugged into the box. They looped down onto the floor then up where they were coiled loosely on the tabletop.

Yasmin suddenly noticed there was a third connection to the box, a thicker black cable that curved down to a squat, black shape on the floor. There was a sharp click and a glowing red ‘on’ light appeared on it. A soft, low humming filled the silence.

She understood. It was some kind of electrical control box and the wires were…

‘Aaaaaah, no, no, God no… no you can’t no, nooooooo!

Yasmin screamed, panicking, as she understood what they were about to do to her. She screamed again when the Lieutenant picked up the coiled wires. The toothed copper clips attached to the ends made a metallic clicking as they dangled from his hand.

‘Now do you understand, Miss Hamad…’ the Colonel said softly as she lolled forwards, mouth working as she fought to recover her senses. ‘Still nothing more to tell me yet… no words?’ He paused, watching the defiant spark in her eyes.

She gabbled in terror. ‘P-p-please, n-no more… see you must believe me now… I don’t know about any messages.’ She shook her head, trying in vain to toss the wet strands of hair away from her eyes. She continued pleading; her voice breaking with pain and desperation while the Lieutenant gently stroked the hair away from her sweat-soaked cheeks.

‘Oh dear… I’m afraid I don’t believe you…. So, can you guess where I’m going to put these little copper crabs…?’ He waited until the frantic gabble of protest subsided. The Lieutenant stroked the girl’s shoulders then reached down between the widely parted thighs to fondle the soft, wet lips of her cunt. She screamed as his fingers touched her clitoris. ‘Strange isn’t it, how the places that give most pleasure also allows me to inflict the most pain…’

Yasmin threw herself to and fro so hard that the straps creaked and smears of blood appeared at her ankles and under her breasts where the bellyband had rubbed her flesh raw. Silence fell, a silence only interrupted by the background hum of the transformer and the broken, ragged panting of the young woman strapped to the chair. After a minute or so the Lieutenant took his hand away then pushed her head down between her breasts so she was staring at the fork of he body. He rocked her head from side to side, ‘So much for your pleasure, now you’ll give me the answers I want. Look down…’ he waited but Yasmin screwed her eyes shut. He slapped her so her head rocked to the side. ‘DO WHAT I TELL YOU!’

He waited as she opened her eyes and stared down at the split bulge of her cunt. ‘Good, now watch carefully…’ Yasmin Hamad stared; eyes wide with horror, as her torturer took one of the wires then carefully parted her slippery labia with forefinger and thumb and brought the thin snout of the copper clip closer and closer. He pressed the ends of the clip so it opened and Yasmin was able to see see the sharp, triangular teeth lining the jaws.

‘NAAARGH!’

A single stifled cry escaped from between her clenched teeth as he moved the fleshy hood gently aside with one fingertip to expose the swollen stub of her clitoris… then let the toothed edges close on the protruding stem.

‘N-n-nooooooo, p-please, no… ARRRGGGHHH!’ 

The men waited until Yasmin’s writhing spasms had calmed a little. The Lieutenant straightened up, wiped his fingers and up the object that was connecting to the other wire. He ignored the girl’s harsh, panting gasps. ‘This comes next, Miss Hamad… all the way up inside, he paused, ‘front or back?’ The wire went into the handgrip of a pencil thin, curved rod that tapered down to a rounded tip no thicker than a knitting needle. The rod and the handgrip were covered in black insulation…apart from the last half-inch and the rounded tip. Lieutenant Modi brought it closer, enjoying the girl’s frozen expression as he rubbed the exposed copper tip of the electric probe with gel. 

‘Let’s see if this is as good as your American stud shall we…’ Yasmin bucked violently against the straps holding her so horribly open as she felt the slippery tip nuzzling her anus. The lieutenant twisted the handle very gently, pressing up so the slim rod slipped into the young woman’s rectum.

‘Oh, p-p-p-pleeeese…n-n-not T-THERE! N-N-NUH... GAAAH!’

The Lieutenant, knowing that the most intense shocks would come when he rubbed the bare tip of the electrode against the sensitive inner walls of the girl’s rectum, continued the slow deliberate impalement of the young secretary, sliding the thin shaft deeper inside.

He nodded to the sergeant, holding up three fingers in silent signal. There was a click. The soft buzzing from the control box was suddenly louder and the young secretary’s arching spasm even more intense than when she had been shocked with the cattle prod. He gently rocked the probe, moving the curved tip deep inside so the current seared up and down the nerve-rich tissues, listening for the spot where her screams were loudest. The flesh turned white around the ankle straps as the big muscles in her thighs tensed like iron. Yasmin Hamad flung her head back, the tendons of her neck standing out like cords, her mouth wide in a mad grimace of agony.

‘Neeeeeeeaaaarrrrrrgggggggghhhhh!’

The guard seated at the table kept the current flowing as he carefully worked the electrode to and fro inside the demented young woman. Judging each movement by the volume of her screams, she kept Yasmin at the peak of pain for nearly two agonising minutes. Finally he pulled the probe free and let her collapse back against her bonds. For a few moments there was only the noise of her rapid gasping breath. Then she looked at the Lieutenant, her hair plastered against her forehead, her eyes staring in desperate appeal

‘P-Pleeese…i-i-it’s T-Tia, it’s not me, it’s T-T-Tia….’ Her voice broke into gasps and sobbing cries as she flopped forwards in her bonds. The guard lifted his thumb away from the button and looked across at Lieutenant Modi.

‘What, what was that? Tell me, Yasmin… you know you want me to stop all this… who’s this?’ The Lieutenant leaned close to the shivering, panting girl anxious to catch any further words. ‘No? Just another little touch then.’ His hand moved the probe so the copper tip was just inside the tight rosette of the young secretary’s anus, looked across at the guard and nodded. Yasmin arched back in agony and her screams suddenly rose in pitch as he gave the probe a slow, careful twist. The current was cut and she slumped down, bubbling and whimpering, chest heaving with the strain and agony of the electricity searing her clitoris and anus. This time she was desperate to talk.

‘Iiiiiiiihhh! No, no, please… Oh God, no more. It’s my c-c-c-cousin, T-Tia Safiq… she works in the army radio centre. W-w-w-we share d-dates. S-she likes Americans. Sometimes she asks me to give her friends t-things. That’s all I do, honestly…’

‘Your cousin’s address?’ The lieutenant slid the probe a little deeper.

Yasmin, too busy with the throbbing agony of the electric shocks, didn’t reply for a moment and the guard’s thumb moved in the darkness. The transformer buzzed louder and the young secretary squealed as her body jerked and shuddered in another arching curve of agony.

‘ARRRRRRRGGGGH!!  NO! NO! P-p-please… M-m-m-m-Market Square, n-n-n-north side number 218   it’s the top fla…’

Yasmin’s head fell forwards as shame, agony and exhaustion combined and she slumped unconscious. Colonel Behadri studied the limp body for a moment, noting the deep circles under her eyes and the marks on her lips where she had bitten herself. There was a groan from Yasmin when the lieutenant slid the probe out of her rectum. But she jerked awake with another shriek of pain when he unclipped the copper jaws from her clitoris.

Her head lolled as she panted and gasped, stupidly imagining that her ordeal was over. Her eyes opened wide in terror when the lieutenant stroked her cheek and moved a strand of hair that was plastered against her sweat-soaked skin. His smile was cruel.

‘So foolish,’ he said quite softly. ‘I told you it was pointless to pretend you had nothing to tell me. All this discomfort.’ She shuddered as he traced one finger down across the curve of her left breast, ‘for a pretty girl like you…’ He cupped her breast and rolled his thumb across the swollen teat. She bucked and gasped as he touched the raw place where the cattle prod had scorched her nipple. ‘Sore now…but in a little while…’ she shuddered again and moaned as he stroked her thigh and then, very delicately ran one finger along the wet, sticky rim of her cunt slit. ‘There’ll be no marks at all…no proof of anything.’

‘I-I-I’ve t-t-told you everything…pleeese! You’ve got what you wanted…let me go…PLEEESE!’

Tears trickled down her cheeks and she gasped and twisted against the straps and ropes holding her legs spread apart as he continue to tease his fingers around the rim of her cunt then down until his forefinger touched the swollen, pouting ring of her anus.

‘Ah, but that’s what you say, Miss Hamad,’ His finger moved again, making her squirm as he stroked the wet inner folds. ‘But think of my position.’ One fingertip grazed the hot, swollen bulb of her clit and she arched and bucked.

‘G-G-GAAAH!’

‘You see I have to be sure you’re telling me and the Colonel the truth…and not just making up names so we will stop hurting you…’

Yasmin twisted and arched again, cutting across the lieutenant’s comments with another frantic appeal to the colonel standing on the edge of the lighted area. ‘NOOOOO! Oh God! Please Colonel you must believe me…please I’ve told you what you want to know…PLEEEES! You can’t hurt me again…PLEASE, YOU CAN’T!’

The Lieutenant took his finger off her anus for a moment and flicked a glance at the Colonel. ‘Of course I can, Miss Hamad…yes, I think we need to be really sure.’ His fingertip pressed against the tight rosette of her anus. ‘The clip here this time I think…’ Yasmin craned to stare down in total shock and horror between her splayed thighs. He traced his fingertip up the wet slit again and stroked the pale nub of her clitoris very gently. ‘Then a touch of my little probe here and we’ll see what more you have to tell us.’

‘NO! NO! NAAAAAH! P-P-PLEEEESE…I DON’T KNOW ANY MORE!’

Her voice cracked, breath coming in gasping terrified pant as she saw the lieutenant lean forward holding the crocodile clip open with his left hand. The clip touched Yasmin’s anus. He pushed gently and one jaw slid inside despite her efforts to clench tight. Then he relaxed his grip…and the other jaw clamped tight pinching the sensitive rim of her anal ring.

‘ARRRGH…HAH…NAH! TAKE IT OFF! N-N-N-P-PLEEESE…H-H-HURTS! AAARRR...’

‘Try four this time,’ the Colonel murmured to the lieutenant. He nodded at the sergeant holding by the control box. There was a click and the soft humming buzz from the machine got louder. He crouched between Yasmin’s spread legs and delicately touched the copper tip of the other electrode to the stem of the young woman’s clitoris.

Yasmin Hamad’s body arched up, muscles shivering tight in spasm and straining against the straps and ties holding her in position on the chair. For a few seconds there was no sound at all…then her wild scream echoed round the hot, stinking room.

‘GAAAARRRRRAAAGGGGGH!’

Lieutenant Modi moved his hand, stroking the rounded tip under the hood then to and fro very gently across the exposed bulb of Yasmin’s clitoris for a full fifteen seconds before lifting it away.  Yasmin slumped down, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth where she’d bitten her tongue, her breath rasping and wheezing as she fought for air.

He waited for her breathing to quieten then touched the young secretary’s cunt delicately with the copper tip again. This time he concentrated on the soft folds of Yasmin’s inner lips. He listened to the intensity of young woman’s screaming responses as the current seared through her cunt. He ran the tip along the rim then delicately probed the keyhole at the top Yasmin’s cunt slit before lifting the curved rod away once more allowing the young secretary to collapse, shuddering and shaking at the agony she was being forced to endure.

At a nod from Colonel Behadri he leaned closer and stroked the copper electrode across the swollen bulb of the young woman’s clitoris again.

‘TIA!...IT’S T-TIA! PLEEEESE! Tuh-TUH Toooo wun ate…TOOWUNATE! M-M-MA-MA- MARKET! NAAAAAARGH!’

Colonel Behadri snapped his fingers and Yasmin collapsed in her bonds as the current was cut. ‘I think she’s trying to say Tia and 218 Market Square again. Perhaps she was telling the truth after all.’ Colonel Behadri lit another cheroot and looked across at one of the guards. ‘Phone the squad room. Tell Lieutenant Tariq he has an arrest to make… it seems there is yet another young lady who can help us with our enquiries.’

He looked at the semiconscious figure strapped to the chair frame. ‘That’s good work, Lieutenant.’ He looked across at the guards. ‘Put this one in a cell in case we need to talk to her again.’

He paused and smiled, ‘Lieutenant…I want you find out if her cousin has anything else to tell us. She’s all ready just up the corridor. They’ve got her straddling a frame and she’d already had her clitoris caned so it’s nice and swollen. Take a break first and let the men fuck her again.’ He looked at the crocodile clip gripping Yasmin’s swollen anus. ‘I suggest you use the same on her cousin…one on her anus and then you can have fun practicing on her clitoris with that probe you like so much .’

Cortez     

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