The Log

The prisoner arrived in the jungle encampment at dusk. A young American woman, she was scratched and bleeding from the forced march along the forest paths, her clothing torn and patched with the dark shadows of moisture from her sweat-soaked body.

Carol Masters, junior intelligence officer with the US aid team, a natural blonde and just twenty-three years old, tried to control her growing panic as she looked at the cruel grinning faces crowding round them. Like all the foreigners in the region… she had heard the horror stories of General Lumumba's cruelty; dark, whispered tales of the awful things that happened to those who fell into his hands. But, until today's interrupted journey, the security precautions at the camp had kept them safe… and off-guard!

The helicopter trip back to the main airstrip should have been routine. It was for the first ten minutes… until rebel gunfire had brought them smashing into the forest below. Carol, the only survivor and miraculously unhurt, had stumbled away from the wreck seconds before it exploded. Unfortunately for her, the rebels were also there within minutes… They captured her without difficulty… and found the security badge and photo i.d. pass she'd forgotten to hide. Worse, the locked intelligence briefcase she was taking back to headquarters was still chained to her wrist …as the rebels quickly discovered.

Carol hunched her shoulders in a futile attempt to avoid the pinching, probing fingers of the soldiers; fingers that deliberately sought out her buttocks and the boldly out-thrust curves of her breasts so that she danced and jerked at the pain of each fresh assault. There was nothing else she could do… with her wrists tied tightly behind her back; it took all her time to keep her balance.

Silence fell as they reached the open clearing in front of the largest hut. General Lumumba, one of the main leaders of the rebel forces, lolled on a low platform covered with a collection of animal skins. Carol's first impression was of size, the animal bulk of the man. Relaxing out of uniform he was wearing nothing but a white linen breechcloth wrapped around his loins, armbands of decorated gold and a lion skin thrown across one shoulder; his jet-black skin gleamed and shone with oil.

Two naked women sprawled beside him. Their hands were moving over his body caressing the oiled skin. Carol Masters caught her breath and looked away, flushing red as she suddenly realised that one of them was gently stroking the shaft of the general's thick, up curving penis, openly masturbating her master in front of everyone. The General leaned forwards on the dais, one hand brushing the women aside as the blonde American was pushed to her knees in front of him.

'General, she was in the helicopter.' Her i.d. tags and the briefcase were handed over. 'Intelligence… probably CIA or the military… the briefcase documents will be most useful…

'No, no please it's not true. I'm only a secretary, an office worker… I'm not a spy…'

The thick lips parted and Lumumba laughed, looking round at the guards behind him. 'Any chance they will think she's still alive?' He grinned evilly as the patrol leader shook his head. The necessary steps had been taken; with the fuel tanks exploding there was almost nothing left for them to find.

The General ran his eyes down the young woman's bedraggled khaki fatigues. 'Strip her… let us all discover what a CIA spy looks like underneath…' Eager hands reached for her body. Her shirt was ripped open and her shorts dragged down to her ankles leaving Carol in nothing but a white cotton bra and brief, high-cut panties. Both garments were almost transparent with sweat, the darker pink circles of her aureoles and the smooth, shaven bulge of her mound showing all too clearly against the thin, clinging fabric.

A blade winked in the low sun and, in the sudden silence there was the soft 'snick' of material being cut. Eager fingers tugged the lacy cups free of her body so that the high curves of Carol's breasts with their pink, upturned nipples were finally revealed. Amid the general growl of approval Lumumba licked his thick lips and the woman reached across to continue her slow deliberate caresses along the length of his massive cock.

The knifepoint traced down Carol's tanned, golden skin until it slipped under the narrow waistband of her panties. As the man carefully sliced through the waistband on each side, Lumumba said something to the woman stroking his penis. She grinned and immediately snaked forward to Carol on her knees. Her oily hands darted up to grab the ends of the material still caught between Carol's thighs. Seeing the smooth, shaven skin of the blonde's mound she called out something in her own language, fingers cupping Carol's labia to show off the naked pouting lips and deep in-rolling slit of her cunt.

Grinning up at the shivering young woman in anticipation, and enjoying the enthusiastic noises of encouragement from the men around, she began pulling the gusset of the ruined panties to and fro, very gently working the cotton into a thin cord that slipped easily along the naked cleft of Carol's body. The men roared with laughter as the young blonde tried to stand on tiptoe to avoid the sudden stimulation of the wet fabric against the sensitive lips of her labia and across the openings of her body.

Carol's sudden gasp of shock as the cord slipped up between the lips of her cunt brought a fresh burst of coarse laughter from the watchers. With the cord where she wanted it, the woman deliberately slowed the gentle sawing movement of her hands, but now started using the full length of the wet cord with each stroke so that Carol was arched up against the grip of her guards. After a few minutes, and with Carol now twisting and gasping at the slightest movement of the cord, the woman stopped and ran her fingers along the thin strand of material. Grinning even more broadly, she held up three glistening fingers, showing the General and the watchers just how wet her victim was becoming.

Carol realised there was going to be no respite as the lolling figure grinned and nodded at the woman, making an unmistakable rocking motion with his hands as he did so. The woman lifted the cord again and the slow relentless masturbation continued. Carol bit her lip, the breath hissing in her nose as she tried to ignore the maddening friction of the wet panties against her body. The woman, eyes fixed on Carol's increasing arousal, was working with a diabolical skill, moving her hands up and down in time with the gentle dragging movement so that her captive's vagina and anus were constantly being rubbed and fretted by the wet cloth.

'Oh p-please, please stop, ooooh, oh noooooo, p-pleeeassse! Ah… oh yes, Oh YES! ' Hearing the sudden change in the young American's pleas, the woman lifted her front hand close to Carol's body forcing the cord right up into the slit of her cunt.

'Ah, Aaaah, God, no, no, please n-n-not there, please Ah, ah AH! No please don't –make me c-come, please I don't want t…. AH… AH, AHH! AAAAHHH!'

Listening to Carol's screams of rising excitement, the woman's tongue peeped between her lips in concentration as she stroked the makeshift cord very delicately to and fro across the nub of Carol's clitoris.

Carol's screams suddenly became even louder, her hips bucking back and forth frantically as the slow fretting torment caressed that most sensitive spot quite unbearably. Now she could see and hear that she had the young blonde riding unstoppably towards her first orgasm, the woman slowed the delicate movement of her hands even more, tantalising and tormenting Carol so that the blonde pleaded for her to take her over the edge.

'Oh God, oh please, go on, harder, please, please, PLEEEESSSSEEEE! '

The men roared their approval as their white captive shuddered and wailed at the woman's hands. At long last she relented, working the cord to and fro in a blur of movement that brought Carol screaming to her orgasm; making the young blonde come so hard that she almost broke free of the guard's grip as she squealed and shuddered in the ecstasy of the moment.

'Now I will show you how we like to fuck Americans…' The rumbling, sneering voice of General Lumumba didn't make any sense to Carol as she tried to bring her heaving breaths under some sort of control. There was the relief of feeling the tormenting cord of her wrecked panties slipping from between her labia but then the shock of strong hands gripping her legs and lifting her off the ground. She screamed wildly in fear and sudden understanding, feeling her thighs being dragged apart as the massive bulk of the Chief's body loomed over her.

The woman's hands made her writhe once more as they parted the still wildly sensitive lips of her cunt, then Carol felt the hard, insistent probing of the Chief's glans stretching the opening of her vagina.

'Noooooo, no I can't, no don't… it's too big Oh God, stop, p-p-p-please stop. Arrrggghhh!'

The thick purple crest sank further, forcing a series of high-pitched shrieks from the splayed woman as the Chief worked his hips gently to and fro. He grinned in delight as he watched the erotic contrast of the black spear of his penis slowly disappearing between the soft pink and gold flesh folds of the young blonde's cunt; enjoying the way the glistening lips folded and bulged round the oily black column as it slid to and fro.

General Lumumba paused then jerked his hips hard. The young blonde squealed manically, arcing back against the harsh grip of the guards holding her open for their General's pleasure. They all knew that she'd just felt the final popping jolt as the flanged rim of his glans was suddenly forced through the overstretched ring of muscle guarding her vagina.

Fully gloved by the warm, tight wetness of the American woman's cunt, the general began to thrust harder and harder. Both he and the surrounding guards laughed in delight as the writhing blonde squealed and screamed at the pain and depth of his entry. Laughter that turned to coarse shouts of encouragement as they saw and heard the American beginning to respond to the slow; deep fucking their boss was giving her.

Still aroused and stimulated by the woman's earlier masturbation, Carol had no defence to the slow, deep fucking. Despite all her protests and the screams of pain, she felt her traitorous body responding, her hips involuntarily starting to surge up and down in time with the deep strokes of the General's penis as she began to ride towards her second climax.

Now it was her turn to try and force the pace, bucking and thrusting against the thick fleshy rod that was filling her so wonderfully.

'Oh, yes, yes, go on, yes, yes, go on, yes, Yess, YEESSS!'

That uncontrolled babble of sounds, and the blonde's sudden wild jerking movements, brought cheers from the men as they watched their General making the white American bitch cry out in excitement. Carol Masters was almost delirious with pleasure as the general kept the rhythm going. Her cries became more and more desperate as he increased the speed and depth of his thrusts. She was caught in a whirl of agony and ecstasy as he finally jerked and yelled. Carol felt the warm spurting flood of his release deep inside her body.

Dragging his softening manhood from her body, the rebel leader raised his arms, shouting to his men in triumph. The guards, chanting and yelling in response and knowing that the show was over for the night, simply let the young blonde fall to the ground in a sobbing, shivering heap.

'Secure her … my friend Colonel Mutabe will want to talk to her in the morning…' The crowd murmured in approval, Colonel Mutabe was feared throughout the rebel army for his methods of extracting information. Truly, the American bitch was going to suffer…

The General turned away and the naked, sobbing figure of Carol Masters was dragged upright and pushed over to a small, heavily barred hut. The rope round her elbows was cut and she was thrown inside. She crashed to the beaten earth floor, curling up and trying to soothe both the throbbing bruises in her arms and the deeper ache in her groin. The planked door thudded to behind her leaving her alone in the hot, foetid darkness.

With daylight, the door was swung open and two of the guards who'd held her legs open for the rape last night swaggered in and dragged her to her feet. 'Colonel wants you now. You better have plenty good answers for him or else…' Both cackled with laughter as they used a length of thin rope to tie her wrists in front of her, enjoying her terrors as she tried not to think of the tortures to come.

They continued to torment Carol with crude comments as they pulled her across the compound like some animal on a lead, staggering and trotting to keep up, and scarlet with embarrassment as other soldiers joined in the teasing comments. Stumbling over the rough ground to the largest of the huts there was nothing she could do to stop her breasts bouncing and jiggling wildly, providing another humiliating show for the soldiers lounging and grinning at the entrance.

Inside there were rough log benches round the walls but the central area was clear. Looking totally out of place a group of steel-framed office chairs and a battered metal desk stood against the far wall. Behind the desk, Carol could see a detailed military map of the area pinned to the planked wall. One man, middle-aged, slim and very fit, clad in camouflage trousers and a jacket with a Colonel's insignia on it, was sitting behind the desk leafing through the papers spread across the top. A couple of other guards leaned against the wall next to the map. The man at the desk finished reading, looked up, and studied the young blonde American with an expression of cruel anticipation.

One of the guards flipped her wrist rope over a roof beam. The man jerked his thumb upwards and, without warning, the rope was hauled taut. The guard continued pulling until Carol's arms were at full stretch and she was forced up onto the balls of her feet, scrabbling to keep her balance on the uneven dirt floor.

The rebel colonel walked across to Carol. She gasped in shock as he reached up and stroked her pink nipples very gently, smiling as they stiffened and rose under the caress. 'I am Colonel Mutabe… like you my business is intelligence. The General is very pleased with the information you so kindly supplied in that briefcase.' He smiled without warmth, 'however, the documents omit the security codes and the radio keys. … The General has asked me to get them from you… So, to save yourself considerable discomfort, those codes are…?'

Carol twisted and jerked on the rope until his fingers suddenly tightened on her nipples. 'Arrrggghhh… You bastards, you'll pay for this! Just wait till they find the wreck and realise I'm missing… They'll smash you... ARRRGGHH…!'

Carol's words stopped with another scream as the Colonel tightened his grip and twisted the jutting pink tips viciously. 'So rude, typical American manners…listen to me… listen! We… added …another body to the wreck yesterday with your i.d. tags and rings and, oh yes, the briefcase. After a suitably hot fire skin colour doesn't matter.' He smiled grimly, 'after all… ashes are ashes. Your friends solemnly collected the bits this morning. My information is that the case is closed… such an unfortunate accident. So you see there will be no rescue… now, the codes?'

Carol screamed and flailed at the end of the rope, hysterical with terror and despair. The Colonel watched with interest as the slim tanned figure of the young American woman twisted and writhed before him. His penis thrust against the fabric of his trousers, his erection growing at the thought of how much more violently she would be screaming and wriggling when they started working properly on that delightfully curved body.

The Colonel looked at Carol's twitching limbs. 'Before you decide to go on be stubborn… let me show you what we do to people who forget things… You remember the woman who masturbated you so prettily for us all last night…?' He smiled as a deep red flush of embarrassment spread up the young blonde's body. 'Well, later, she was stupid enough to lose her temper with the General… something I suspect she now regrets most bitterly….'

The colonel smiled, 'I'll show you what I mean… bring her out to the Log… but hold onto the bitch, she still has to tell us what we want!' Carol felt the rope coming loose as the Colonel walked off towards another opening at the far end of the hut.

The Log lay to one side of the open circle of beaten earth, carefully placed at an angle so that all could see. Hewn with much labour from the trunk of one of the jungle giants that had been felled in a storm, it was so thick no man could encircle it with his arms. But it had been cut so short so that it was now barely more than a tall man's height in length.

On one side, a single metal stake jutted out of the packed earth about four feet away from the log's centre. On the other, two heavy, wrought iron staples had been hammered into the log itself, one at either end, and both set low down so that the metal hoops almost touched the ground.

The woman who'd masturbated Carol with the cord of her panties was in her mid-twenties with a full ripe figure; now it was her who was writhing continuously, muscles flexing and working beneath the polished black skin while her upturned buttocks clenched and wobbled unceasingly. Carol could see pinpoints of blood and a hatching of fresh weals across each glistening globe. It was obvious that the woman had been savagely whipped or caned very recently.

Quite naked with her body wet and gleaming with sweat, she had been thrown face down over the log. Her legs were stretched wide, each of her ankles lashed to one of the iron staples, spreading her obscenely so that wrinkled eye of her anus and the plump, heavy labia were held open and unprotected. A thick leather strap attached to the top of the log was buckled tightly across the small of her back, preventing any small luxury of movement no matter what they did to her.

A coarse rope was lashed round her wrists and tied to the single stake on the far side of the log. The tension in the rope pulled her body forwards, holding her arms at full stretch so the heavy globes of her breasts dangled downwards, their tender undersides pressing into the rough bark of the log.

But even the woman's agonising bondage was not the worst of it. Carol finally understood the horror of the woman's plight when the guards pushed her right up to the log and she got her first sight of the young girl. Carol's immediate thought was ' God she's young, she can't be more than sixteen!' The girl, well developed despite her age, was wearing only a minimal black thong and a cut off black tee shirt, as she knelt on the hard packed earth between the inverted V of the woman's carefully splayed thighs.

At first, the young American couldn't understand what she was seeing; couldn't make out why the girl's arm seemed to be hidden. Then, with a half-stifled cry of shock, she understood. The girl's whole hand and forearm were buried deep inside the woman's body!

Intent on her work, the girl was moving her arm in and out very slowly, like some monstrous phallus. Each time her wet, shiny hand slid up inside… the woman twisted and turned against the ropes and straps, responding to each sensation of the slow, fist fucking torment she was being forced to endure.

The girl looked up, saw the naked, tanned figure of a white woman shivering with fear in the grip of the guards and grinned at her with cruel, eager eyes. Holding Carol's horrified gaze, her slim fingers fondled and teased the woman's swollen labia, enjoying the expression of shock on the blonde's face, as she finally understood what was happening.

Licking her lips, the girl closed her fingers into a blunt, slippery arrowhead. Working slowly so Carol could see every movement, she thrust her hand back into the woman's vagina, forcing the juice-glazed lips apart as they closed round her slim forearm. Carol watched mesmerised by girl's knowing smile as her arm muscles moved and flexed in a deliberate corkscrew motion, working her fingers deeper and deeper.

From the other side of the log there was a rising, babbling wail from the pinioned woman, a desperate mixture of anguish and arousal at the lingering, expert torment she was being forced to endure. From the sounds, Anna realised that the girl was now flexing and working her fingers deep inside the woman's body, forcing her to experience a mixture of pain and pleasure as she teased and fondled the mouth of her cervix; swirling and scraping her nails over the sensitive places deep inside her body.

The girl grinned at the American again 'She nearly finished this time, she going to come again…number six times now… ' The girl giggled, 'General say make her come ten times before she learn her lesson. I think she want me to stop now! Maybe your turn very soon, Lucy will make you squeal real good … Maybe you come many times for me before the Colonel has his fun.' She suddenly began pumping her arm in and out in a blur of movement. 'Yes, yes, you come now, bitch! You come now for Lucy again! Come on, nearly there, yes, yes come on, I fuck you good yes, yes… So… you want me tickle your clit too?'

The girl's other hand darted up between the woman's cream-soaked thighs and the cries immediately became more frantic and demented. Carol knew, from the sudden babbling noises, and the uncontrollable bucking of her hips, that Lucy's forefinger was wriggling against the swollen bulb of the woman's clitoris.

The girl giggled aloud, enjoying the audience and the woman's antics as she forced her to another unwilling orgasm. Held by the harsh grip of the guards, Carol Masters was forced to watch as the naked, sweating woman squealed frantically, bucking her hips so hard that the thick leather across her back creaked and groaned with the strain. The fronts of her thighs slapped wetly against the curve of the log as she was made to climax yet again.

Finally, she came with a series of hooting shrieks, her full breasts bouncing and scraping up and down uncontrollably against the log as she was engulfed by the overwhelming ecstasy of her orgasm. Carol saw there were harsh red marks and bloodstains on the woman's ankles and wrists; red raw weals showing where she had pulled and chafed the skin against her bonds in her desperate attempts to get free.

At last, the girl let her relax, sitting back on her heels as one of the watching men stepped forwards. There was a hissing swish and the wet 'thwack' of something hitting flesh. The woman screamed wildly, bucking and flopping like a mad thing against the log. Carol gasped in horror as she saw the four-foot long bamboo rod in the man's right hand. His arm swung down and the cane whirred through the air again before slicing across the upturned globes of the woman's bottom with another wet 'thwack!'

'A hundred strokes, ten each time she comes… and all she did was swear at the General.' The Colonel's voice whispered in Carol's ear. 'Think of how much more important those codes are…' As he spoke the strokes continued to provide a horrible screaming counterpoint to his words. With the tenth stroke the woman slumped down, her legs and buttocks quivering as though she had been given an electric shock

This time the girl waited for almost a minute for the woman to begin to recover and her frenzied breathing to calm a little. She began by running her fingertips over the fresh weals, the teasing, delicate touch bringing new screaming convulsions from the woman. She leaned forwards and Carol saw her pink, pointed tongue flickering into the deep groove of the woman's body.

'AAAAAAHHHHH!'

The woman's head arched back, eyes bulging with pain and forced arousal as the girl's tongue darted round the crinkled bud of her anus. After a few moments, Lucy leaned over the woman's back, hands reaching down to tweak and fondle the thick black nipples. 'Time for you to come again… this time I use a brush on your clit… you like that yes…?' She continued to fondle the rubbery tips for a few moments as the woman writhed and sobbed in agony beneath the weight of her torturer's slim body.

Getting no clear response, Lucy lifted herself clear, the front of her shirt now soaked with the woman's sweat so that Carol could see the hard, sharp peaks of the girl's breasts through the clinging fabric of her tee shirt. 'Oh god, Lucy's getting herself off by torturing her… she thought, ' her tits are like spikes.' Reaching into a little plastic box, Lucy picked up something red with a white end. As she moved to kneel between the woman's thighs once more Carol realised that she was holding an ordinary toothbrush.

Carol shuddered, crossing her legs at the thought of those bristles beings worked and scraped across her own clitoris; especially by another woman who would know exactly how to drag the most exquisite mixture of unbearable feelings from her helpless victim. Even as she twisted against the guard's grip she realised with shame that the scene before her was making her wet; she was being turned on by the thought of this unknown woman's sexual torture… She tried to ignore the growing feeling of excitement as she gazed at the girl, Lucy, as she began to stroke the bristles to and fro over the wet, swollen lips of her victim's labia…

The unspoken, guilty thought churned in her mind. 'It'll be my turn next… Oh God what will I do if she touches me…'

'Iiiiieeeeeeeeh!' The woman screamed; a high desperate squeal of anguish as she felt the first scraping contact against a place already so tender and sensitive from the girl's earlier attentions. 'No, no, no Lucy, no, no, Yeeeeiiiiiiiiiiii!'

Lucy giggled at the sounds from the other side of the log, tracing the bristles up and down the soft cleft between the woman's labia. She used her finger and thumb to part the heavy outer lips and started to brush the nylon bristles to and fro across the inner lips, concentrating on the little fleshy hood at the top of her cleft. 'Going to come number seven time for Lucy now… yes? You feel it there ok?'

The brush swirled and dipped as she spoke. Carol panted with sudden arousal as she saw the muscles in the woman's thighs fluttering rapidly, the hips surging to and fro as the sharp, stabbing bristles flicked and flayed the hot, wet nub of the woman's clit.

'ARRRRGGGGGHHHHH! NOOOOoooooooo!'

With her victim surging helplessly under the agonising pleasure of the little brush, Lucy licked the forefinger of her other hand and slowly started pushing it against the rosette of the woman's anus. Carol watched, her feelings of guilty excitement mixed with the knowledge that, unless she did what the colonel wanted, she would be the next one tied to the log… The girl's finger sank right up to the hilt before she started pumping it in and out. The woman's squeals took on an added note of pain and desperation as she felt the girl's finger twirling and probing deep in her rectum.

'Ah… ah… ah… ah… ah! Ah! AH! AH! AAAAH! '

She was lost. Lucy turned and licked her lips, staring at Carol. Her hands still moved continually, bringing the woman so expertly and cruelly to her seventh climax in a row. This time the jerking spasms were wilder and longer as pain and exhaustion overcame the sudden ecstasy of yet another forced orgasm.

Once again she knelt back, pulling her wet and glistening finger free of the woman's anus with a casual indifference as she nodded her head to the man with the bamboo cane.

'A moment…' Colonel Mutabe held up one finger as he walked round to lift the woman's head by grabbing a handful of wet, tangled hair. 'Enough, get rid of her… and these layabouts.' He flicked his fingers towards the group of rebel soldiers who had been watching the woman's punishment. 'It's time our guest became acquainted with our little toy…'

Carol Masters shivered as the limp form was dragged away. Without warning a fist thumped in the middle of her back. 'Oh God, no, no you can't… not me!' Carol struggled uselessly as the guards forced her against the warm wet patch that the native woman had occupied only moments before. Eager hands gripped her ankles and the young American gasped at the stretching agony in her tendons as the men spread her legs wide to touch the iron staples. Thin rawhide strips bit into her skin as they lashed her down securely.

In tying her legs they had let go of the rope. Carol propped herself up on the curve of the log, trying not to look at Lucy's eager, grinning face as she was prepared for torture. Carol was still trying to keep control of her rising terror when the colonel's voice brought new agony.

'Hands behind her I think. I may want to tickle her tits if she proves obstinate. Carol jerked as the waist strap slapped across the small of her back. She smelt the hot musk of male excitement as the man who'd used the cane earlier pulled the strap tight, clamping her belly against the log. 'I hope you keep yourself fit?' The colonel's voice was cold and precise. 'My men will now tie your arms behind you at the elbow. It will leave you free to wriggle if you wish but you will have the frustration of being totally unable to prevent us playing with all this delightful flesh…'

Carol only had seconds to understand what he meant. The guards untied the rope on her wrists and her support was abruptly removed as they twisted her wrists behind her. Her shoulders creaked as a single thin strap was cinched tight just above her elbow joints. Then, the hands were gone and Carol Masters was left braced over the log, her torso hanging in space, her full breasts just brushing the coarse bark.

Colonel Mutabe deliberately pinched the young blondes nipple, pressing so that the flesh whitened under the pressure.

'Oh Christ! Ah, ah please, no, p-p-please, Aaaahhh! '

He watched Carol Masters' upper body bending and twisting, her head tossing from side to side as she glared back at him with pain-filled eyes; the damp, blonde strands flailing across her face.

'Password? Radio code?' The colonel said quietly. There was a quick smile of enjoyment as he saw the young blonde shake her head, mouth clamped shut defiantly. 'Oh what a pity, I'm afraid you've made a bad choice my dear, even if Lucy and Sergeant Emola here don't think so. But then they both enjoy hurting people… especially delightfully shaped young women such as yourself. Changed your mind, Miss Masters? Or do we try pain… rather than the pleasure you enjoyed last night?

'Y-you can go f-fuck your self, colonel,' Carol managed to say between heaving breaths. The colonel's face darkened and he rapped out some commands in the local patois. Carol caught the word gegene but didn't understand what had been said. A few moments later the sergeant reappeared carrying a canvas-covered box with terminals on the top. Suddenly, Carol screamed, as she understood only too well when she saw the thin red wires and the alligator clips attached to them.

'Start with her tits, let's see if a taste of electricity can improve her memory.' The sergeant quickly attached two of the red wires to brass terminals on the box. Lucy picked up the toothed clips and dangled them in front of Carol's terrified eyes. Her fingers fondled the hanging globes once again, stroking and teasing Carol's pink nipples, despite the blonde's frantic body movements, until they were jutting out hard and stiff.

'This'll bite your tits good girlie,' Lucy giggled as she pressed one of the clips to open the toothed jaws. Holding the soft weight of Carol's right breast cradled in one hand, she ran the sharp edge of the clip along the full curve until the jaws were either side of the rigid, pink stub. Then she let go.

'Ah, God, p-please ah, aaaaaah!' Carol wriggled frantically making the heavy globes scrape and thud against the top of the log. Lucy just smiled more broadly, capturing the other breast and letting her cupping fingers flicker over the very tip before the teeth of the second clip bit down hard into the sensitive stub. 'Ah, ah, Aaaaaah!' Carol moaned in anguish, not only at the pain of the steel teeth clamped to her breasts, but in anticipation of what was to come. Her wild flailing movements were useless; the two steel clips remained firmly gripped to the peak of each breast

'Last chance to change you mind,' the colonel said quietly as the sergeant knelt by the machine. 'Let me assure you that this little toy is completely effective. The pain will be unbearable and it will go on and on. Once I ask the sergeant her to start… only your complete co-operation will make him stop. And don't forget… you are positioned over the log so that those other delightfully sensitive places on your body are easily available. He paused, 'I like to vary the approach…it stops the scorching getting too severe…'

Carol Masters hung her head, her sweat darkened blonde hair falling forward to conceal her face. It's odd, the colonel thought, they all do that before the torture starts, almost as though they want to look at the clips…' He made a circling motion with one finger. There was a soft whirring noise as the sergeant turned the little handle quite slowly.

For a few seconds there was silence, broken only by the whine of the magneto. Then the young American woman arched back, thrusting her breasts out so the toothed metal electrodes bobbled and jiggled on the peak of each breast. Her mouth opened wide and an animal scream broke the moist, heavy silence of the jungle.

'YYYYEEEEEEAAAAAGGGGHHH!'

A minute or so later the sergeant stopped and she flopped forwards against her bonds. 'The password?' the soft voice enquired.

Another inhuman squeal broke the silence as the sergeant wound the handle a little faster. Carol Masters had never felt pain like it. A fizzing agony burning through her nipples that robbed her of all control or resistance. She wanted to tell him, wanted to do anything to stop what they were doing to her but she just didn't know the codes.

Whirr … scream… whirr ... scream… whirr … scream…

'I DON'T KNOW!'

The last scream was one of pure agony as for the fifth time she was thrown back in a muscle wrenching spasm by the current surging though her nipples.

'Such a pity I don't believe you…' the colonel, completely unmoved by the American's agony, looked at his two assistants. 'Better switch, one on the clitoris…the other up inside. Lets see if that's more effective. Lucy… use a bulb inside, better contact…'

Another thudding agony as Lucy removed the clips; each nipple now marked with angry red patches and so swollen that the skin of each peak was taut and glossy with the pressure. The colonel smiled to himself as he noticed how she jerked back in pain as the scorched and tender tips grazed the rough bark of the log. Of course, when they clipped her up again she would feel it so much more…

'Noooooo, no, oh God, no, please I've told you, please, please…'

Despite her strutted position, Carol was desperately trying to turn her head to watch the sergeant and Lucy carrying the field telephone box round to the back of the log. She screamed again as she felt Lucy's knowing fingers fondling the lips of her cunt. There was a sudden coldness and then a tantalising, slippery feeling as Lucy used some kind of gel on her labia.

'Ah, aaaaaah, oh, oh please, n-no, no n-n-not t-t-t-there…' Carol gasped as Lucy gently caressed the little nub of her clitoris, making it swell and rise; bringing sweet unwanted sensations to the tortured woman.

The slow masturbation continued, Carol panting as Lucy's other hand worked at her vagina, probing and slithering into the moist opening to bring the young blonde to a peak of arousal despite the burning ache in her breasts. Carol's senses were in turmoil; one the one hand Lucy was working her close to coming, on the other she knew exactly why they wanted her wet and aroused. Carol was jerked back to the awful reality of her plight as she felt one of the horrible metal clips nuzzling at her clitoris. She screamed in agony as the metal jaws closed on the wildly sensitive stub.

There was no second clip; instead there was the unexpected touch of something cold and metallic that Lucy had attached to the wire as a replacement. The new electrode, the bulb the colonel had suggested, was shaped like a plum on a finger-thick stalk. At the base there was short insulated handgrip and a plastic collar to stop it being inserted too far. Lucy slowly worked it into the young American's vagina, enjoying the gasps and panting breaths as Carol tried to accommodate the size of the bulb. There was a sudden extra loud gasp from the pinioned woman as the head of the electrode popped fully inside her vagina.

The colonel dragged Carol's head up by the hair. 'You know what comes next…' One hand just scratched the very tip of Carol's right nipple bringing another anguished squeal from her. 'If you thought the pain in your breasts was unbearable, think again. Unless you tell me what I want you are about to enter a hell you never even dreamed about in your worst nightmares.' Colonel Mutabe caressed Carol Master's flushed cheek as he looked into the American's pain-wracked eyes. 'So silly… we will just go on and on.' He smiled as he saw the continuing defiance in her gaze. 'Sergeant… if you're ready…'

' YYYYEEEEEAAAARRRGGGHHH!'

The animal squeal ripped across the jungle clearing, so piercingly loud that birds rocketed out of the trees in panic. Carol Masters' body was flung back against her bonds in a bone-wrenching arch, her fingers scrabbling uselessly at the cheeks of her buttocks. Posed like some demonic figurehead, the young American's eyes popping wide with the jolting shock, her mouth held open in a scream of pure agony as the magneto whirred. It was as though lightning fizzed and crackled in her cunt, searing her clitoris and sending burning agony through the delicate tissues deep inside her vagina.

The sergeant stopped winding and the young American crashed forwards onto the log, her breath whooping and gasping in her throat. A pause, another signal from the colonel and the awful cycle continued. The rising whine of the magneto, the odd moment of silence and then another arching spasm and another animal scream from the strapped and tied body stretched wide against the log.

'Stop.' Colonel Mutabe's soft command was almost inaudible against Carol Masters gabbling squeals but the upraised finger served as well. The sergeant let the handle wind to a halt and the gasping shuddering figure slumped forwards once more, head hanging limply over the torture log.

'P-p-purple mountain, PURPLE MOUNTAIN! T-that was the c-c-ode…' Carol screamed out as the colonel lifted her head. 'Please believe me, oh God, please… but it's no g-good to you, it will have changed immediately they heard of the c-crash…'

'So, all that for such a little thing… somehow I don't think we've got it all yet.' He smiled, evil enjoyment crinkling his eyes as he waited for the reaction to his words… 'Lucy, let us try the probe in her bottom this time… I wouldn't want our American friend to miss out on any part of this new experience…'

'YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I've told you what you want …' Carols voice broke and she bit her lip in pain as Lucy worked the metal bulb out of the agonisingly tender tissues of her cunt. Then she felt the curved dome of the electrode pressing against her anus… ' Oh God, oh no, please no, no you can't, pleas, I've told you what you want, please don't, no you can't… ARRRRHHHH!'

Colonel Mutabe enjoyed the way the American's mouth opened wide in an O of pain and astonishment as Lucy slowly worked the bulbous head of the electrode through the tight ring of her anus, deep into the delicate tube of her rectum. Just as he had promised, the woman's scrabbling fingers were only inches away from the torture wires that hung down from the cleft of her body and curled across the beaten earth to the battered brass terminals on the field telephone box. Only inches, but there was nothing Carol Masters could do to stop the agony beginning once more.

'Steadily this time Sergeant… Lucy can play with the bulb…let her feel it all the way up.' The three of them shared a knowing look as they all heard the sudden frenzied panting of the blonde on the log. Then the sergeant moved his hand and, seconds later, Carol Masters' shrill song of agony rang out once more.

Lucy, keeping well clear of Carol's spasming body, reached over to clasp the insulated handgrip of the electrode buried up to the plastic collar in the blonde's anus. Listening carefully to the tone and pitch of the American's screams she moved the bulb-shaped device in and out, turning and twisting it so that every fold and crevice was scored and raked by the fizzing agony of the electric current. Even when the sergeant stopped cranking the handle and Carol had crashed forwards over the log again, she continued to play with the impaling shaft, her face alight with the thrill of bringing her victim to such a peak of agony.

After fifteen minutes, as the magneto whirred into silence once more, Colonel Mutabe lifted the matted hair and looked into the puffy slits of Carol's eyes. 'I tol yu-you the code, d-don't know nothing, tol you, pleeeease…' she croaked, her voice broken and hoarse with screaming… 'P-please, n-no more, please…'

Colonel Mutabe saw the truth in the broken, sweat-drenched figure strapped before him. 'Unclip her. Sergeant, take the code word we do have to the General. Tell him Colonel Mutabe believes the woman knows little else of value…' He waited, hearing the little gasps of outrage as the electrode was pulled out and the devilish little clip on her clitoris finally released. 'So, there you are my dear…was all that really necessary for such a small secret?' He smiled again, looking over Carol's back into the hot eager eyes of his pretty sixteen-year-old torturer.

'Now, before we finish… you remember what Lucy was doing to the woman earlier…?' Despite her agony Carol Masters managed to lift her upper body clear of the log, craning her head round. Her eyes widened in shock and dawning horror as she saw the girl smiling at her, hand glistening with oil and the fingers closed into a blunt arrowhead. Carol waited until she felt the first soft touch parting her labia… then she opened her mouth and started screaming all over again…

Cortez

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