Sexpionage 7 – Tea Time of the Soul by Sfor

A literotic sexstories: Sexpionage 7 – Tea Time of the Soul by Sfor ,
Believing that she can reveal important intelligence, key to their ongoing operations, the Terrorist Group know as ‘A Suffusion of Yellow’ continues to interrogate stunning SVR Agent, Ekaterina Novikova, aka Yulia Jelic, with an ever increasing brutality …
Tea Time of the Soul – Sexpionage 7Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

“So, this is it,” Yulia thought, as soon as her brain began functioning again.

She remembered having been injected with some sort of drug, and now, she had surely been administered an energiser to wake her up.

The last words she recalled was the promise made by Valdez to ‘move the interrogation up a gear’. Did she remember him saying the name Manuel?

A quick assessment revealed that she was tied to a metal chair or frame, her elbows secured close together at her back with black cable fastenings. The same kind of ties secured her arms over a bar that formed the backrest, and her knees to the chair legs. They were extremely tight and biting into her skin … compounding the soreness of her ass form the severe beating they had given to her (see A Suffusion of Yellow Day 5).

She was still wearing her torn nightdress, but apart from that she was naked.

Yulia tried the bonds, but the only action she could manage was a very short forward movement of the hips together with a small rotation of her shoulders.

“Oh God, please help me …” Panic was beginning to consume her and the SVR Agent realised now that they were going to torture her, and tried frantically to recall her training … but her mind was swimming with everything and nothing, and it was very difficult to think straight.

“Think, think!” she muttered in an attempt to focus her thoughts.

There was a chill in the room, but she was already sweating, her exposed skin glistening in the dark. As her eyes became used to the gloom, Yulia could see the shapes of dim lights and seemingly an electrical device, like a medical defibrillator.

“Fuck …” she whispered to no one but herself.

During her training at the Academy, no one had expressed any concern about death, accepting it as a distinct possibility, but being faced with it, like she now was then her feelings were decidedly different.

She could do nothing but wait.

A Back Room at the Club Kim, Enrique Mac Iver 187, Santiago, Republic of Chile

“It’s confirmed, they have taken her.” The man entered the dimly lit room and sat down at a small table. He looked at Enrique and sighed.

He was wearing baggy trousers and an oversize jacket, he looked dishevelled. At the other side of the table, Enrique was also in shirt-sleeves, with a loose tied tie and rolled sleeves.

“You shouldn’t have let her go alone, without any support,” he said.

“For fuck’s sake Enrique, I didn’t have any one available, you know that, you make the orders,” he retorted.

Enrique didn’t look happy, but the words spoken to him were the truth. He looked ponderous, deep in thought until finally he spoke. “Then you should have gone yourself to watch over her apartment.”

It was an unfair accusation, and both men knew it. Who would have coordinated operations then? But the first man didn’t answer. He too felt guilty.

“By now, they could have been working on her for hours.”

“Yes,” Enrique answered. His monosyllabic response it was not indifference, but a simple reflection of the inevitability of the situation. “She will tell them everything, possibly or maybe she will not. We just do not know. Does she have her pill?”

“No, I found it at the side of her bed.”

“Then she is entirely at the mercy of these bastards.”

Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

Several bright lights were suddenly switched on, and Yulia was momentarily dazed. She could barely make anything out as three men came into the room and to take station at different places. One of them positioned a stool to sit directly in front of her.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” Yulia said in Spanish.

The guy in front of her, didn’t answer, but stared at her whilst rubbing his hands over his nose.

But, having decided that she had nothing to lose, Yulia made attack her first line of defence.

“Answer me! What do you want? Money? My family is not rich … we are just ordinary people from Belarus”. The man raised his hand, palm flat towards her to indicate that she should be silent.

“Ekaterina Novikova. Citizen of Russia huh?” A slight pause. “… but, through your Mother, Belarusian also? Middle class upbringing, you were educated at the Hinkson Christian Academy where you learned to speak fluent English before being recruited by the SVR at the age of Seventeen. You use the name Yulia Jelic when on assignment.”

Yulia girl tried to look surprised, but it was clear that her cover had been blown wide apart.

“Well, that’s mostly true. Except for the name and the SVR part, which is ridiculous.” She also switched to near perfect unaccented English.

The man looked unimpressed.

“Do you know who I am and who I work for Ekaterina?”

“I do not know who this girl you mention is. My name is Yulia Jelic and I am just a dancer.”

The man smiled. “My name is Manuel Contreras Junior. My Father was Manuel Contreras, the Head of General Pinochet’s Secret Police. I work for a Revolutionary Group called A Suffusion of Yellow, called such because every time we strike, we do so groups of four or more events in order to steep the Government in confusion. You might have heard of us … and you might also be aware of the fact that I oversee the interrogations of our detractors very much in the style of my father.” Contreras finished his statement with a malicious grin.

These words terrified Yulia, not just because of what he was saying, but the fact that he was telling her everything about himself and his organisation, which meant that they had no intention of ever letting her go.

“When your cover is blown, it is blown”. The words from Colonel Tretykov flew into her mind. Her cover was blown sky high!

“So, Ekaterina, you can go on pretending you are an innocent, middle-class, part Russian, part Belarusian bohemian, dancer, but we both know what this is about, and why you are here.” He Paused, before continuing.

“You were asking questions of Valdez when you were with him in his home, that no dancer would ever ask, and your response when he fed you certain words was not the way an innocent girl would act. The cameras in his apartment caught you searching through his jacket pockets. You are going to tell us what you were looking for.”

Yulia felt lost. She swallowed hard, before mumbling, “I have no idea of what you are talking about.”

But she knew what was coming. Strangely, she did not feel fear, or anxiety, but a kind of sadness. It was as if she was already dead. Except, she was far from being that lucky.

Contreras moved away.

Another man took his place.

“She’s all yours Emilio.”

Reaching out Emilio carefully took the strap on the right of Yulia’s nightdress and slid it down over her shoulder. Her right breast was exposed, nipple hardened, their intentions becoming ever more clear.

“Are we shooting a porn movie guys?” Yulia found the wit to joke in defiance, and Manuel couldn’t repress a smile.

Brave young girl. If only she could recognise when she is lost, he thought.

Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

“Strip her, Emilio, and take her to the ‘chair’.” Contreras was still calling the shots.

Emilio grinned and quickly pulled the nightdress off Yulia’s shoulders. His action was rough, ripping the garment apart to leave her naked in an instant. Before Yulia knew what was happening, she had been released and led over to what looked nothing like a normal chair.

Two steel planks a couple of feet long set on legs … a sparse metal frame constituted the back. Yulia’s eyes widened as she saw the true nature of the device revealed.

Emilio then spun her around and down onto the bars and quickly secured the girl at thigh and knee with leather straps.

“Arms in front … NOW!” he barked.

When she complied, her wrists were overlaid and bound together. Embarrassed at being humiliated in this way before this man and his compardres, she, nonetheless, held her head high. Yulia was very aware that her position now left her prominent breasts exposed.

The Agent’s apprehension increased when Emilio tied cords about her overlaid arms at the elbows and passed the ends up and through a steel ring set into the ceiling above her head.

Manuel stood directly in front of her, so she couldn’t help but see the prominent bulge in his pants … her eyes grew wide, a development he noted with pleasure.

“Now Ekaterina,” Emilio said to her, using what he believed to be her true name, “… we know that you are part of the Russian undercover network here in Santiago, and you are engaged in an attempt to undermine our activities, correct?”

There was a pause during which a silent Yulia looked towards the ground.

“Even so,” he continued, “… we are prepared to be lenient with you. All you have to do is tell me the name of the man who is leading your activity, also where he is based, and I will free you, let you get dressed, and see that you are safely escorted out of our country. Come now, why suffer further disagreeable treatment? It’s so easy. Just a name and a location.” He smiled a gentle smile at her.

“My name is Yulia Jelic and I am a dancer,” she repeated.

Emilio nodded. “Okay have it your way little girl, but be aware that when I said ‘a little bit of discomfort, you really have no idea. Very well, let’s get started, shall we? Valdez, please pass me the strap, the perforated one, and the lash.”

Emilio received the implements that he had demanded. “Thank you. Now then take the rope, if you please and hoist her up!”

The cruel team of men pulled on the cord jerking Yulia’s arms up high. A motion which raised her ass from the cold, steel surface and exposed her bare breasts to receive full attention. Reaching out to sample her provocative curves, the Activist filled his hands with firm, resilient flesh, the skin trembling under his touch.

Yulia grimaced, fighting back a whimper.

Emilio, the leather strap gripped in his fist, stepped back to admire his subject.

He gave the evil lash a few violent sweeps through the air in front of the bound girls terrified face.

Experienced in these matters, he would begin on her stomach building up to the breasts, so that he could savour her agony. Unlike the thin leather whips that could rip the flesh, this implement with the wider surface would impart a bitter sting without breaking the fragile skin. There were several small holes drilled through the savage length, and so not only would it fly faster through the air, increasing the impact of every blow, the gaps would cause small painful blood blisters to rise up on Yulia’s nubile body.

He drew back his arm and took aim.

“SWISH … THWACK!” The first stroke flew in a horizontal arc to burst across Yulia’s belly, just catching her around the ribs.

“UHHNNN,” she grunted. This was another of his ploys; to let her feel the incredible sting the lash could deliver, so that she could imagine how much it would hurt when he struck a place even more sensitive.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

Two more punished her stomach and then Emilio looked to move higher. With a pause he leaned in to assess the damage thus far. Several reddening welts crossed her flesh and he could just see the first tiny red circles rising in the middle of each one.

He usually spent more time on the anticipation of his lashes, but the girl’s bare breasts were just too inviting to delay any longer.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

The harsh lash found Yulia’s breasts for the first time, full across the upper slope.

“NNNGHHHHHH!” Yulia grunted at the bitter raw pain.

Emilio settled into a slow rhythm, 20 seconds between strokes to allow the beautiful girl time to fully appreciate the pain of each one.

Upon receiving every lash, the full breast would flatten, then tremble on her chest, and each individual stroke was rewarded with a delicious grunt of pain from the hapless Agent.

By the time fifteen lashes had sought out the sensitive curves on Yulia’s ripe body, the diabolical beating had flushed her exposed breasts to a brightening scarlet from her collarbone to the upper edges of her exposed areolae.

“Higher now, please.” Emilio issued his command.

Hands obediently hauled on the ropes and Yulia arms were drawn further upwards. As her arms lifted, the exposed breasts rose higher on her torso, keeping most of their perfectly firm shape, but now better exposing their delicate nipples and tender under curves to the pitiless strap. Already her nude torso was sheened with a film of perspiration from the arduous experience.

Emilio wasted no time once she was in her new position, balance precariously on the steel planks.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

A crisp slash to the undersides that lifted her firm curves and set them to shake wildly on her chest, then as soon as they had settled, a vicious horizontal crack that found her hardened nipples, full on, for the first time, cruelly flattening the rigid teats. There was no hesitation on his part, no build-up for anticipation, just a savage attack while Yulia remained alert enough to fully respond to the burning sensation of the whip striking her presented nipples.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“Aiiiiiiiiii, please, stop … ohhhhhhhh stop, I beg you!”

The cry of suffering slipped uncontrollably from her throat, nothing had prepared her for the hideous stinging agony of this new attack upon her nipples.

“A little bit of discomfort, Ekaterina? I told you that you had no idea, didn’t I? And we have only just begun Miss Novikova.”

He thrust his hips forward to highlight his developing erection, “As you can see, I find this kind of interrogation quite enjoyable. Now are you going to answer my questions and tell me what I want to know?”

Tears ran from Yulia’s wide eyes as the raw pain enveloped her, but, with a little evident difficulty, she was still able to muster her courage.

“My name is Yulia Jelic, I am a dancer,” she managed to respond between gasps.

Although he didn’t show it, Emilio was happy with the Agent’s resolve. She had no way of knowing that it only added to his delight. He had participated in many duels between lash and will and ultimately the lash always won.

Always.

This way she would last longer. He was always disgusted by the ones who broke after just a few minutes of suffering, screaming and wailing, then quickly sagging in their bonds. He inevitably got his full measure of pain out of them, of course, reviving them over and over with ice water, smelling salts, even injections to reawaken them for the continuation of the torment.

Eventually, their loud inchoate screams and frenzied contortions became sufficiently arousing to satisfy his lusts, especially after four or five revivals. The rare ones like this girl were treats to be enjoyed.

“As you wish, Chica.”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“AAAAAAHHHHH! NGHHHHH!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Emilio reverted to a slow rhythm, allowing the optimum gap between each lash, delivering some to the thin flesh of her underarms. While not as painful as the breasts, the bitter sting added considerably to her agony.

Five more strokes …

Ten more … the savage lash caressed Yulia’s shuddering bared chest mercilessly. Both breasts were flushed a bright scarlet and now adorned with a plethora of rising red blisters.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

Five more rapid strokes savaged her body before her resolve finally cracked.

“HEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHH! AAAAAHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHH! N-NO MORE, NO MORE! OH, GOD STOP! NO MORE! I … I don’t know any names, but there is a place … it’s a nightclub … called … called The Golden Cat … I think … I’ve never been there you have to believe me …”

Emilio dropped the strap.

“There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it? Had you only been this reasonable at the beginning you would have spared yourself all that pain. Now you can rest Chica. Catch your breath, it’s all over now. Lower her arms a little please.”

Emilio stepped up close to Yulia, his rigid phallus now pushing hard against the confines of his pants. The ropes lowered the young Agent’s arms, but only to the level of her face. Still exposed, her beaten breasts heaved with every desperate gulp of air.

He placed one hand on her nearest shoulder while the other settled gently over her right breast. Even this light contact drew a fresh gasp of pain from her, as the monstrous Activist trembled in response to the pangs of erotic pleasure emanating through his hard shaft at the touch.

The once silken skin of her chest was now an angry red, welted surface and flush with heat. His fingertips caressed her, relishing the fiery warmth and the feel of the raised blisters scattered over the surface.

Even this light fondling was difficult for Yulia to endure. He released the swollen flesh and turned to his colleagues. “Bring her a glass of water please, and then we will check out her revelations.”

Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

With Manuel gone to check out the information that Yulia had given to him, she was left alone with Emilio and Valdez. Her composure was shattered, the Agent had, despite lying about the detail, effectively admitted that she was what they were accusing her of being. But all that was in her mind was to buy Enrique and his contacts another 24 hours to move elsewhere. They would know she couldn’t hold our forever. Yulia believed that just a little longer and they would be safe …

“Please,” she pleaded, “I’ve done what you wanted. You’ve made me a traitor to my country. I told you what you wanted to know. Please! You can untie me! Please, let me go! You promised! I’ve told you what you wanted to know, now let me go!”

“Yes, you told us what we wanted to know and I know I promised to stop if you did. There’s only one little problem, however. You see, right now we don’t actually believe you, and so until Manuel returns, you will remain secured. Valdez, bring her a drink.”

******

It was maybe an hour later when Manuel returned, and he was smiling.

“Oh, my sweet little Chica, you lied to us and now you are in big trouble. There is a club called the Golden Cat here in Santiago, but it is not the place where the bastards you work with hang out, is it?” He leaned in close enough for her to smell the whisky on his breath. “The Golden Cat belongs to the Lanzas, the Mafia, and so there is no way the Russians ‘own’ it.”

Manuel stood back from where his captive sat and grinned. “So little pussy, I’m afraid that your suffering isn’t over, after all. In fact, it has only just begun. Emilio, I’ll take over with the rod now please.”

Yulia’s beautiful eyes only stared at the cold, calculated terrorist in numb panic while he spoke. Her fevered mind just couldn’t accept his words. This monster was going to continue the torture of her poor aching body and any hope of mercy was futile considering the rampant erection twitching up from his groin.

Contreras now held up his new instrument, a three-foot long black rod, a quarter of an inch across.

“Yes, Miss Novikova, I have ***********ed something different for the next part of your ordeal. See, it’s just a long slim bar of steel encased in thin rubber. The steel keeps it relatively stiff while the rubber helps make it just a little supple, excellent for accurate aiming. And the effect is just beautiful! Its kisses will provide those exposed curves of yours with an even more intolerable agony. It has the added benefit of not tearing your flesh unless I really want it to and though we will ultimately destroy you, I intend to make you suffer for much longer. So, relax, my pretty pussy. I won’t torture you to death today. No, your naked body has me enchanted and you simply respond too well to our attentions to squander this opportunity so soon.”

His tone was filled with menace and Yulia was struck dumb. But his de***********ive instruction was not over …

“Valdez, go get the candle and a long needle. Use your imagination down between her thighs. We should liven her up a little more.”

Yulia was struck dumb with fear.

This inhuman ghoul spoke about the deliberate and protracted torment of her naked body as if he was discussing the weather and in seconds it would begin again! And not only back to her poor helpless, still throbbing breasts, but now they were going to burn her, or pierce her or …”

What was strange was that Manuel had not questioned her again. That scared her even more as it meant that there was nothing she could do or say to stop this from happening …”

Yulia’s thoughts were interrupted suddenly as the rubber coated steel rod came whistling across to strike both of her helpless breasts no more than fraction above her hard, exposed nipples!

“HISSSSSSSSSSSSS CRACK!” The sound struck fear into the bound girl, and …

“Fuckkkkkk!” It hurt so much!

“HISSSSSSSSSSSSS CRACK!” He struck again.

“HAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH! FUCKKKKKKKKKKK! OH, GOD, GOD PLEASE DON’T HIT ME ANY MORE! MY BREASTS, OH DEAR GOD THEY HURT! THEY HURT SO MUCH!”

Goddamn the monster! He was right about the pain. Instead of transferring its energy across a wider strip, it seemed to strike harder and left a more bitter, narrow sting.

Manuel soon found a rhythm, long seconds between strokes to let Yulia feel the full pain of each. Two, three, four … every hissing swing drew fresh wails from the hapless girl.

Then vulnerable Agent felt a new sensation between her legs and suddenly her sensitive labia, exposed through the bottomless chair frame, were lanced by searing fire. With all her attention focused on her chest, she had forgotten about Valdez positioned to her side.

He had taken a three-inch needle, held it to the candle flame until it glowed red, lifted it to Yulia’s unprotected labial lips, clearly visible between the steel planks, and then stabbed it quickly in and out of the succulent flesh time after time!

Yulia lunged against her bonds, but the leather at upper thighs and knees held her firm and her shriek rose in volume and pitch.

“Aiiiiiiiiiiiiii, no, no, nooooooooo!”

“Hah, did you enjoy that Chica? Hard for you to know what hurts more, huh? It doesn’t matter to me. I enjoy torturing a girl’s breasts and pussy in equal measure.”

He proceeded to administer six more fast strokes of the steel and rubber rod, while Valdez lanced her tender pussy over and over, until she was out of her mind … almost.

Then Manuel Contreras held out his hand – a temporary cessation. “Okay Emilio, haul those arms up again. I want to get at the undersides again.”

Yulia groaned, she was way beyond coherent speech.

The terrorist leader gripped her jaws in his large hand, and squeezed her cheeks. “So, are you ready to tell me anything more Ekaterina Novikova?”

Summoning up her last reserves of strength she replied, “Fuck you!”

Contreras laughed.

Valdez pulled on the ropes and Yulia’s arms rose up over her head once again, drawing her breasts higher on her torso to expose the sensitive under curves and nipples once again … perfect for the rod.

He focused and took aim.

“HISSSSSSSSSSSSS CRACK!”

A vicious uppercut lifted both mounds of flesh and set them dancing wildly on her rib cage. He immediately followed with a finely judged horizontal stroke to perfectly bisect them right at the edge of the areola.

“HISSSSSSSSSSSSS CRACK!”

“NNNNGHHHHHHH!”

Again, the cruel rod carved at her body. Stroke followed stroke, every one relentlessly punishing Yulia’s breasts. As the rod smacked hard against the red blisters, they burst releasing a fine mist of bloody liquid into the air and slender rivulets of blood to run down her flesh, and drip from her nipples.

Valdez pierced her labia again and by now the pliant folds had taken half a dozen searing punctures from the glowing needle, every tiny hole quickly swelling with fierce irritation, pushing her threshold for suffering beyond any limit of endurance.

She wished she could die, but her mind and body would not even grant her a much desired loss of consciousness …

Yulia knew that her ordeal was far from over!

Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

“Release the ropes, lower her.”

When she felt her bottom cheeks touch down onto the thin steel surfaces that formed her ‘seat’, Yulia relaxed just a little. But as her wrists were unfastened, she soon realised that any respite would be temporary. Her arms were pulled over the back of the chair-frame, and straps were put round her wrists attaching them to a bar low down on the structure. Further bindings tied around her ankles secured Yulia’s naked, abused body to the back of the frame. With her ass now ‘hanging’ in the open seat space between the steel strips, all of Yulia’s weight was on her shoulders and the backs of her knees, with her punctured and bleeding labia exposed for all to see.

Since her arrest Yulia had been given very little water or food, and she was now hungry and dehydrated. She had slept very little, and was so tired that even in uncomfortable positions like this she felt like sleeping. She was close to the point of not caring about anything, except an end to her suffering.

Manuel Contreras was sitting opposite her in another chair. He, of course, was well fed and relaxed, and was not about to make life any easier for his stimulating captive.

He studied her carefully.

Compared to the smart young woman who had been brought to him twenty-four hours ago, she looked very different. Her hair was matted and messy … no longer glossy or styled. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying and lack of sleep, and there were patches of blood adorning her cut and welted flesh where the torture had perforated or broken her skin.

In fact, Yulia’s whole body was now covered with evidence of her suffering. Small, round, scarlet and black blisters from the paddle and strap were dotted over her breasts and stomach. Her nipples were dark and swollen, and covered with angry red marks. To Manuel though, she looked more beautiful than ever.

“So, Miss Novikova, let’s see how co-operative you can really be for us. Tell us the truth about your contacts and the places that they operate from.”

Yulia knew that the 24 hours she had been trying to give them was almost up. Surely Enrique had taken his operation elsewhere by now. But she resolved to hold out for as long as she could …

Yulia groaned. “Please, I really don’t know anything about any contacts, I said what I did the last time only because I was in so much pain. I would have said anything. Please. Let me go.”

“My dear, your only hope of release is to tell us everything.” Contreras spoke calmly as he delighted in her continued refusal to co-operate.

“I DON”T KNOW ANYTHING!” The wretched girl screamed at her captor.

Seeing the barely discernible nod from Manuel, Valdez moved forward. He was holding an electric prod which he pressed against Yulia’s stomach, and then activated. She screamed and arched upwards away from the frame, her body contorting grotesquely as the current flowed through the tender flesh. He held it in place for five seconds, before removing it. Yulia slumped back down, gasping and breathing heavily.

“Please …” she whimpered.

How much more of this could she stand? Surely, soon she would simply give up and allow herself to slip away, wouldn’t she? It would be a release, anything was better than being a plaything for these madmen.

“Ekaterina you will have realised by now that you cannot lie to us. You are an enemy of our State and will be treated as such until you have told us everything.”

Valdez moved the prod to her right nipple, pulled the lever and once gain Yulia screamed in agony, writhing and jerking, arcing up and away from the chair frame.

“Tell us about your mission, Agent Novikova.”

Without waiting for a reply, Valdez crouched in front of her. He reached between her wide spread thighs, and she felt him parting her tortured labia.

“Please, please, no … no more,” she whimpered.

She knew it was useless, but what else could she do but beg?

She felt the cold prod press against her vulva, and then it slid slowly in between her pliant, pierced lips and into her dry pussy, painfully penetrating her.

Yulia moaned as it moved upwards, and then screamed as Valdez thrust it into her as hard as he could. But, without actually activating the shocking current, he pulled it out, until just the tip remained inside, and then plunged it back inside her again.

“Aiiiiiiiiii, noooooooooooo!”

He repeated the action several times, making sure the harsh metal scraped along the sensitive walls of her pussy.

When he was sure the metal contacts had wormed their insidious way far enough inside her body, he pulled the lever.

The pain was indescribable.

Although she had suffered electric shocks before, this was the first time any electrode had been inserted fully inside her body. The pain exploded up from her insides,

“OH MY GOD! NOOOOOOOOOO!” she screamed, and thrashed around, then screamed some more. She prayed for anything to happen that would end it, anything at all.

“Just tell us what we want to know.”

Yulia closed her eyes and was on the verge of speaking when the activation button was pressed again.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

When it stopped, she slumped, mouth open, gasping for air, thick saliva oozing down her chin, snot running from her nose. She sobbed and cried, tears pouring from her eyes. She couldn’t even speak simply to beg.

And then it came again. This time it seemed even worse. It seemed to last a lifetime, her vaginal muscles stretched and contorted as the current seared through her. A welcome blackness began to envelop her, and she thought, please God, let me die.

But of course, Manuel and his men were far too experienced to let that happen. When they revived her, with cold water and slaps to the face, the prod was still deeply embedded in between her thighs. Despite fighting stoically to hold the tears back, Agent Novikova began to sob.

Contreras grabbed a fistful of her hair, now soaking wet, and pulled Yulia’s head back, stretching her neck. Perspiration coated her body, her eyes full of fear.

He spoke quietly.

“I see you are still being very brave, Miss Novikova. I admire that. Our work would be so much less rewarding if you gave in quickly. You must have been well trained by the SVR to withstand this treatment.”

“Please” sobbed Yulia “I don’t know anything about the SVR. Please believe me”.

“But that’s just it, Ekaterina, I’m afraid that I don’t.”

Manuel released her hair, and she saw Valdez’s fingers twitch on the activation button of the prod.

“No, please” she yelled, and then screamed again as the button was pressed and the pain exploded into her womb, emanating outwards from there.

When the current had ended, Manuel spoke again. “We’re waiting, Miss Novikova. If you tell us we will let you rest, and give you food and water. Wouldn’t you like that? Wouldn’t it be nice to not be in pain?”

Before she could say anything, the current was running wild once more, rampant inside her writhing body, possessing her, dominating her, raping her …

“AIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK!” Yulia howled and screamed.

“Tell us about your contacts” asked Manuel again.

“Please, please no more” she whimpered.

“Then tell us what we want to know. If not, it will continue forever. More and more pain and suffering, and we will keep you alive. It will never end.”

Yulia sobbed. She wanted it to end so much. But she couldn’t give in, not quite, not yet … she had to be certain Enrique was clear.”

“Please … stop … I am just a dancer … and my name is Yulia Jelic.”

******

Manuel and his colleagues continued to torture Yulia with the prod for another hour. By the time the electrodes were pulled away from her body, her insides felt as if they had been torn apart. She had already vomited the meagre contents of her stomach over her own naked flesh, before she sensed a welcoming blackness descend.

Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

Manuel allowed the girl to wallow in her own darkness for a little while before releasing her from the frame to fall in a heap on the floor.

“Clean her,” he ordered. And so, it was under the full force of a cold water jet spray that Yulia was brought back to a conscious state.

Eventually Contreras ended it. “Put her on the post.”

Valdez and Emilio moved to pull the Agent up from the floor, but before that action could be completed, Manuel Contreras, having quickly pondered his orders, spoke again.

“Before you do that, any man that wants her can have her.”

The leader of these terrorists smiled to himself as he submitted Yulia to suffer at the hands of his men, and it wasn’t just Valdez and Emilio, there were many men in the Villa Grimaldi.

******

After taking a short while to refresh himself and enjoy a little food, Contreras walked back along the corridor and into the room at the end. Flicking the switch on the wall the previously dark cell was bathed in light. Although he knew exactly what he was going to see, Contreras couldn’t suppress a smile.

In the centre of the room, hanging from a horizontal metal post was the still naked Ekaterina Novikova.

“How beautiful you look Miss Novikova.”

The post was a simple, but painful, device. Her wrists had been tied together, and then she had been forced to draw her knees up to her chest, and pass her arms over her legs, one on each side. A metal post was then passed under her knees, and over her arms, before being lifted up and placed in two vertical supports.

This left Yulia hanging upside down with all of her weight on the backs of her knees. Her hair trailed towards the floor. The hanging position had not been too unpleasant to start with, but gradually became unbearable the longer she was left suspended in this manner.

Now her knees were screaming out for relief!

Of course, Contreras wasn’t satisfied with just the post. He wanted Yulia to be more miserable than she could possibly imagine, and so a few extras had been added. The rope used to bind her wrists had been soaked in brine first, so as it dried out it shrank, inhibiting the blood supply to her hands. They were now numb and purple, and she couldn’t feel them at all.

Similarly sodden cords had also been tied tightly around her breasts. These had also shrunk as they dried, and now the firm curves bulged obscenely away from her body, the dark purple skin, blood pulsing into her nipples with every beat of her heart.

A catheter had been pushed into her urethra, through which a large quantity of ice-cold water, mixed with an extra strength alcohol infused mouth wash was being passed. Her bladder was stretched to its limit, and the mixture was creating an agonising and intense burning sensation.

Two long metal rods, coated with hot stimulating lubricant had been inserted deep into her body, one into her pussy and the other was penetrating her anal passage.

Yulia was barely lucid, but conscious she was, and she watched as Contreras walked towards her. She knew his arrival only meant more pain, and salty tears began to fall even before he spoke. The last time she had seen him was when she was strapped to the chair-frame, with an electric prod buried deep inside her vagina. She knew now that this was not really about interrogation. He simply loved causing her pain, and she expected this time to be no different.

Contreras had said any man that wanted her could have her. And they had done just that. Yulia was raped and sodomized by a gang of men, maybe ten, maybe more … she didn’t know. It had gone on for hours. Each man took her more than once, and as well as the rape she had been forced, with a gun pointed at her head, to perform oral sex time after time … white hued seed running in thick, hot jets down her throat and into her stomach.

Eventually they had brought her to this room and placed her on the post.

Contreras pulled over a chair, and sat down so that he was close to her head. He grasped Yulia’s hair, and leaned in close to her ear so he could talk almost in a whisper. His mouth was so close to her that she could feel his warm breath.

“Don’t you want it to end, Miss Novikova? You’ve suffered so much? Just think of what it would be like to be free again, free to do whatever you want, free of all this pain and abuse. Wouldn’t you like that?” Contreras stroked her swollen stomach, the smooth skin stretched to the maximum under his touch. Yulia squirmed and whimpered … her stomach hurt, and the burning sensation gave her a desperate need to piss …

“Please, no more,” was all she could say.

“It’s up to you, Miss Novikova. Tell me about your mission with the SVR and it will all end. Why don’t you tell me? Do you want this to continue?”

“Please, I’m nothing to do with the SVR, I’m not a spy, please, I can’t take anymore.”

“But you can stand much more, Miss Novikova. More than you can possibly imagine. You can stand it forever … or should I say that you will be forced to stand it forever. Only you can end this suffering by telling me, now, what I want to know.”

“Please, I would … already … have told … you, but I’m innocent … you must … believe me”

Yulia was now crying openly, tears running down her forehead into her hair.

“Miss Novikova, you’ve only been here a day. We have weeks, months ahead of us. You will suffer every day until you co-operate. This is now your life. Nothing but pain and misery forever. And so far, you have only experienced mild tortures – there are many more things that can be done to you without actually killing you.”

Contreras paused to let his words sink in.

“You are alone here. Nobody cares about you. No one is coming to save you … ever …”

“Please, please” sobbed Yulia “Please, I don’t know anything, please.”

“The only people who care about you, Miss Novikova, are us. And we only care about causing you more pain than you ever imagined existed.”

Yulia sobbed, but said nothing. Manuel Contreras got up, and retrieved some wires from a bench. He walked back to Yulia, dragging the wires across the floor, and attached them to the metal rods that were protruding from her vagina and anus.

Yulia was sure she was going to be given electric shocks again, and went wild, bucking and writhing and screaming as far as her bondage would allow …”

“No, please.”

Contreras ignored her, and flicked a switch on the wires. Yulia squeezed her eyes shut and tensed, but nothing happened. She gasped in relief. Maybe there was something wrong? She opened her eyes, and looked at Contreras. He was smiling at her, and didn’t seem to be concerned. What was going on?

And then, very gradually she realized with horror that the metal rods were getting warm. They weren’t electrodes at all, but heating elements.

“Oh my God, no, please” shrieked Yulia as she realized the full horror of what was about to be done to her. “Please, please, no.”

The rods were getting warmer, and Yulia was beginning to sweat … perspiration running over her body to drip onto the floor.

“Please” she screamed “Please, turn it off.”

The rods were now very warm, almost too much to bear, but still they continued to heat up.

“So, Miss Novikova, how long do you think it will be before you tell me everything?”

As Contreras smiled, Yulia screamed, and the catheter tube fell away as a stream of urine burst forth, gushing from her prostrate body.

Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile

Yulia had no idea how long she slept, but a blinding light and a terrorist holding her down awakened her.

One whispered to the other, “Stuff this rag in her mouth. We can’t let Manuel find out that we fucked this whore without him giving his permission.” While one held down her arms, the other spread her legs. Yulia struggled and pulled as hard as she could but these were strong men; one of them had arms bigger than her legs. She knew it was hopeless but she had to resist. They were dirty, smelly and about to violate her like a predator destroying a helpless animal.

The first one pulled down his pants to reveal a dirty, disgusting hard-on. He looked like he hadn’t bathed for days! He entered her like a dog in heat, thrusting repeatedly and violently against her helpless body. Every thrust was agony in her dry, over used pussy. This wasn’t sex, there was no foreplay, no tenderness, only pain and humiliation.

He pounded into her, his thrusts punishing as he grunted his way towards release. The pounding grew faster and more painful as he snorted louder and louder. After about twenty minutes of this torment he came, shooting his seed into her tortured pussy. She had barely recovered when terrorist number two put her through the same agony. Yulia had lost the will or strength to resist; she was almost numb, a helpless victim. She didn’t even remember his climax, only the noises he made as he violated her.

She barely heard the third man instruct his compardres to “Turn her over, you guys have messed up that fucking hole beyond repair”. They all laughed as Yulia was forcibly flipped onto her stomach.

This one was big … very big. As she was rolled over Yulia felt him parting her cheeks and push into her anus. As he sat down on her legs the small framed girl cried out as his weight almost crushed her.

Then he entered her ass in a single, agonising thrust. It felt as if she had been ripped in two; it literally felt like she was being skewered, yet he was only a little over half way in! He began to put his weight into it.

“Nooooooo! GETTTTT OFFFFF MEEEEEE!” It felt like she was being flattened, the pain was shooting up her spine into the base of her skull. Yulia was screaming, she was going to die like this …

Finally, having sodomised the Russian Agent, he climaxed into her bleeding anus just as she passed out.

Yulia did not know how long she was unconscious for. Manuel knew that she needed rest or she would die under the stress of what was being done to her. He also knew about his men’s clandestine appetites …

When her eyes began to flicker open, Yulia rolled over, horrified at what she saw. Her inner thighs and swollen pussy were a mass of smeared blood and sperm … she could not see her ass but the constant ache told her that entrance to her body was also in bad repair.

Her lungs hurt and every other breath was painful. The punishment she had taking had been severely debilitating. Two members of A Suffusion of Yellow entered the room.

“It looks like the whore’s been masturbating.” They laughed. “… Get up whore, time for your exercise.”

They dragged her limp body into a room with chains hanging from the ceiling and a manhole in the middle of the floor. One of the men grabbed a hose, saying, “Time to clean up the dirty cunt.” He hosed her down quickly, cleaning the blood and sperm away from her body, and then added “Hold out your wrists, bitch.”

Yulia was handcuffed and one of the ceiling chains was attached to her cuffs. A pulley yanked up the chain taking the SVR Agent with it.

“Pl … Please, don’t … no … more …” but her, breathless, quiet please were notional and to no avail as a small chain was secure around her ankles the long end of which was left to loop around the floor.

She was hoisted up until her toes could no longer get purchase … a dull ache permeated through her shoulders.

As Yulia surveyed the room with the manhole cover positioned underneath the point from where she hung, a metal container was attached via a rope to her ankles chains before being dropped down into the hole.

“Urgghhhh!” She grunted as the extra pull strained her already worn out muscles.

The Russian Agent realised there was more to this than just a beating. As she hung suspended Contreras himself considered raping her, she looked so erotic, so utterly helpless. Her stomach was taut, her lean legs still displayed the dancer’s definition, and her stretched breasts, while flattened against her chest, retained their magnificent form. There was nothing Manuel liked better than an overextended, naked woman … he was going to enjoy this very, very much.

But first he wanted to make Yulia aware of what she was really up against.

Taking a five-pound weight he threw it into the container.

“Fuckkkkk!” The suspended girl groaned, grimacing as her body stretched just a little more.

“After every ten lashes more weights will be added to the container. You can stop this at any time by telling us what it is we want to know …”

Yulia’s mind was ablaze with confusion. Could she hold out? Would it matter if she told them everything? Had Enrique relocated already?

Contreras ***********ed a multi-thonged whip and stood behind her. He was going to lash her himself.

She could feel the air rushing as the leather approached her back, and then Yulia heard the crack as her back exploded!

She shook, her shoulders throbbed, and she gasped for breath. Everywhere hurt as the poor girl gulped in as much air as she could, before the wind was taken from her once again.

The second lash tore into her and curled around to catch her left nipple … it felt as if the abused teat was being torn from her body!

“Aiiiiiiiiii fuckkkkkkkkk stopppppppp! For God’s sake … have … mer … mercy!”

She screamed and strained, writhing and squirming. Her back was on fire; they were surely tearing the skin away from her a stroke at a time. By the time ‘ten’ was called out, Yulia had ceased to struggle. The will to fight having being overpowered by total exhaustion.

Contreras held a ten-pound weight before her and took great delight in depositing it in to the container.

Yulia grunted as a blazing pain jarred her shoulders; pulling the joints little by little from their sockets. She threw up, but unable to vomit she was left with an agonising fit of coughing. The terrorist grabbed her hair, shaking her head. He was yelling, “Whore, who are your contacts? TELL ME NOW, YOU FUCKING CUNT!”

Then she heard the whistling of the whip. Her beating was about to continue. She knew this was the end. Stretched beyond reason, the whip tearing the skin off of her back, there was no way she could survive.

Then her bladder gave way. Every breath was agony, every movement was misery. Feeling the warm urine trickle down her legs in front of these leering bastards only added to her humiliation.

“The cunt can’t control her bladder.”

The torture was appalling, but Yulia survived, losing consciousness once, only to be revived by a bucket of ice water …

At the end, when the container was hauled up, seventy-five pounds worth of weights fell out onto the cold. stone floor …

She had told them nothing more.

Finally unfettered, the hapless Agent didn’t have the strength to stand; she was a limp, weak mass of pain. It seemed that no place in her body was free from hurt. The abuse, the whipping, the shocks, the rapes … from her throbbing shoulders and battered rib cage, to the ends of her feet and her delicately sensitive back and ass, her body felt like one large, violated, open raw wound.

They dragged Yulia to her cell and threw her unceremoniously onto the dirty mattress. She lay where she fell, unable to move, and wept herself into a fitful sleep, waking frequently as bouts of violent convulsions overwhelmed her.

Yulia had lost all track of time, and so had no idea whether it was morning, noon or night when Contreras walked into the room.

He was alone.

His intentions were only too obvious as he disrobed to reveal a thick, long erection. Moving to Yulia he grabbed her by the hair … “Suck my cock, whore, and don’t even think about biting. If you do, I’ll personally see to it that you die slowly in the most horrific manner imaginable!”

But inside Yulia knew that she was going to die anyway and so she might as well go out with an act of defiance. He twisted her hair in her hands; it felt like he was going to tear her scalp off. But she readied her teeth to bite hard …

For the first time since this whole nightmare Yulia felt she was in control. She had Manuel’s dick in her mouth and she was going to make him pay even if she died in the act.

This bastard would remember forever that he picked the wrong girl to mess with.

Yulia waited until she felt the base of his balls against her open mouth, then she clamped down hard. She was tired, almost exhausted, but her jaw wasn’t. She wrapped her arms around Manuel’s legs so tightly he almost lost balance … he was flailing his arms, screaming trying to pull out, but Yulia was determined not to let go until she had chewed his cock off, or someone had killed her.

Neither of them heard the door blast open.

Contreras was startled when a several rounds from an SVT-40 tore through his chest. Yulia felt him go limp as he collapsed to the ground, his partially severed dick hanging out of his unbuckled pants, thick black-red blood flowing from the wound.

Yulia looked up to see Enrique standing over the dead terrorist’s body.

She collapsed into an unconscious heap.

Covered only by a blanket, and with and overriding sense of emergency, she was carried outside to a waiting car and driven at speed to a trusted-hospital.

For a time, close to four months, Yulia moved through a variety of hospitals and care facilities, each one offering her a level of care that suited her rehabilitative state. Although scars remained, her wounds and body were restored, more or less, but her spirit would take longer. Would it ever heal? Would Ekaterina ever be able to reconcile what happened to her in the torture cells of those Chilean terrorists? She could not, would not, go anywhere without security, and her nights were plagued with nightmares …

But the truth was that she had won. When the going got tough, Agent Ekaterina Novikova got going!

She would be back!

FIN