Filthy habit. The truth was I wasn't that bothered about smoking, but at times when there was nothing to do but sit around, it was useful to have something to do with my hands. Not that I didn't have anything to do. There was plenty of paperwork that I should be completing, but I wasn't in any mood to get on with it.

I took another drag on the cigarette and reflected on my rather unusual position. It was 6 months since the coup had overthrown the democratically elected Government. Bunch of corrupt tossers. They'd been bleeding the country dry, and introducing lots of liberal namby-pamby laws restricting the freedoms of honest hard working people. The final straw came when they passed huge cuts in the military's budget. It was decided to oust them by force and restore some pride to this country.

I was in a senior position in the army, and I quickly realized there was a need to seek out and neutralize any opponents of our newly formed regime. I was put in charge of an intelligence department that had carte blanche to do anything necessary to protect our position. The secret police I suppose you might call us. So we started rounding up people we suspected were plotting against the new Government. Amazing how many of them there were! Once we had one, of course, we had to persuade him to tell us all about his comrades.

I say him. Of course there were men, but I was only interested in the women. Good looking women. My position gave me a fairly unique position to indulge some of my more, shall we say, unacceptable interests. Most people, if they had seen and done the things I have, would be worried about arrest and imprisonment. But not only did I not have to worry, I was actually being paid by the Government to do it. It was my job. Things couldn't be much better.

I'm sure most men would love to be in this position. Not that they'd admit it, of course. It wasn't socially acceptable, and I certainly didn't go around boasting about my job. But I knew it was the natural order of things for men to dominate women, and that in the current society women had completely taken that away. But not from me.

I flicked through the files on my desk that detailed the people currently being interrogated in the basement of this building. Normally I would have been doing this on a daily basis, but I had been away at some meetings in a far flung part of the country so was way behind. Any men were immediately discarded. A quick look at the pictures and any pig women were also discarded. This left me with four folders, which I spent a bit more time reading.

The first was Julia Ortiz. She was a very attractive blonde, judging by the picture. I read the rest of her details - 24 years old, a flight attendant for the national airline, arrested while boarding her plane in possession of a DVD made by someone in the country documenting human rights abuses. I checked her arrest date - 3 days ago. I was sure she would be feeling very sorry for herself by now. I decided I would definitely visit her.

Next, Isabella Conseula, dark haired, 28 years old, a reporter. She had been arrested yesterday after being named by Julia Ortiz as the person who had given her the DVD. So the whore flight attendant had been broken - not surprising, everyone talks eventually. There's no way a woman can stand the things that happen to her here. Once we're sure they've screamed out every name and every bit of information they possess, the more attractive women will just be used as fuck toys until someone better comes along. I knew the sort of woman Isabella was going to be - stuck up, and full of herself, thinking she was better than everyone else. I hated bitches like that. I would love to see her begging for mercy. Definitely another one to visit.

Gabriella Hernandez, 19 years old, student, arrested 2 days ago. She was certainly very pretty, long brown hair, and a lovely smile showing perfect white teeth. I was sure she wasn't smiling now. But I decided not to bother seeing her. These students were just immature girls, not the more interesting mature women I liked. Arrested while on some kind of student march, or distributing leaflets, they were brought here just to instill some fear into the population and discourage any anti Government activities. They didn't have any information of any value, so they usually had wires taped to their tits and pussies, given a few electric shocks, raped and sent on their way. Of course if there wasn't anyone better, then a student was preferable to nothing.

No, I preferred women who were confident and sure of themselves. Women who would slowly be broken until they were begging, pleading wrecks, selling out everything and everyone just to end the pain. Those were the ones I would make a particular point of going to see.

Women like Maria Sanchez. She was in the last folder. 31, so nicely mature. As well as being a stunning looking brunette, she was intelligent and well educated, a professor at the University, and it was so much more enjoyable to put an uppity bitch like that in her place. The students were really too pathetic, and quickly became boring. She hadn't been arrested at some stupid student demo. She'd been arrested during a raid on a house in the early hours of this morning, and a hidden cache of guns and explosives had been found. She was living with a boyfriend who was not there at the time of her arrest. She must have a lot of valuable information about rebel members that she and her boyfriend knew. And she would tell us everything eventually.

I wrote down the names of the three women I wanted to visit on a piece of paper, stubbed out my cigarette, and left my office. I was near the top of the building, and it was a fairly long ride down in the elevator to reach the basement. I had to swipe my pass and enter a code - the elevator only gave access to the lower levels to authorized staff. There weren't many that fell into that category. It stopped at several floors, and various people got in and out. On the fourth floor a very attractive blonde got in. She stood in front of me, holding a folder of papers. Her skirt was short, her legs long and tanned. I could see the outline of her brief panties as her skirt was taut across her buttocks. I used the time until she got out fantasizing about her being taken to the basement, that tight skirt ripped off, and listening to her screaming and begging as she was raped and tortured without mercy.

On the ground floor I had to confirm that only allowed people were present in the elevator before it would continue down to the basement.

The doors slid open to reveal a long corridor, brightly lit with strip lights, running into the distance with a number of doors leading off either side. There was a desk with a soldier sitting behind it, and as I stepped out of the elevator he stood to attention and saluted.

"At ease," I said, and he relaxed. I handed him the piece of paper with the names of the women written on it. "What rooms are they in?" I asked.

He took the paper, and typed something into a computer sitting on the desk. He did a bit more typing before picking up a pen and writing on the paper. He handed it back to me, and I saw he had written the room numbers next to the names.

"A very good selection there, sir," he smiled at me. I smiled back. I was sure he'd had his dick in every hole of every woman on the list.

"Yes Sergeant. It should be an enjoyable afternoon."

"I can recommend the stewardess whore. She's a real screamer, very pretty when she's begging, and very tight."

"Thank you, Sergeant. Perhaps I'll visit her first." I looked at the number next to her name. Room 3.

As I walked down the corridor I reflected on the men who worked down here in the dungeon. Many were like me, greatly enjoying their privileged position. Others were happy to do their duty but didn't seem to be particularly interested in the sexual aspects of the job. Some were more interested in men. But there were no women working here. Despite what you may have read in various fantasies, I had never met any women who were interested in doing this kind of work.

At the door to room 3 I paused and checked the name on the sheet. Julia Ortiz. A glorified waitress ordering people to turn their mobile phones off before take-off. Let's see how high and mighty she is now. I opened the door and walked in. The men in the room looked towards me, and then stood to attention and saluted. There were only two of them.

"At ease," I said. The room was large, as they all were in the basement, and round the edges were cupboards, chairs and a desk. But the thing that grabbed my attention was in the middle of the room, illuminated by powerful spotlights. A girl was hanging from a bar in a classic parrot's perch position - wrists tied in front of her shins, legs bent, with the bar running behind her knees and in front of her elbows. She was upside down, her long blonde hair draped down towards the ground. I walked forward to get a better look at her.

She turned her red-rimmed eyes towards me and immediately started babbling. I don't know if she recognized from my uniform that I was a senior officer, or whether I was simply someone different to beg to.

"Please, help me, make them stop, please there's been a mistake, please, I can't stand any more, please make them stop..." She carried on like this for a while until it was obvious I wasn't going to do anything, when she started sobbing and whimpering. The Sergeant had been right, she did have a very pretty begging voice. I smiled, remembering the blonde whore in the elevator.

I walked slowly round her to take in every aspect of her predicament. Despite the cramped position she was held in, it was obvious she had a fantastic body. Her stomach was flat and toned, her legs long and shapely, breasts a nice size and shape although they were squashed between her chest and thighs. Her face was also perfectly proportioned, bright blue eyes made all the more attractive by the redness and tears from long hours of crying. Her beautiful blonde hair was wet and matted as it hung towards the ground, but I could still tell it was nicely cut and shaped. Her whole body glistened with sweat.

Her butttocks, backs of her thighs and soles of her feet were covered in marks from a severe caning. Many of them were oozing blood. There were countless cigarette burns all over her body, but especially on her breasts and between her legs. Her labia had been pulled open and held in place by needles driven into her thighs so her vagina was gaping widely, the most sensitive flesh exposed to whatever torments my men wished to inflict. Various liquids were oozing from it and dripping to the floor. Her vulva was an angry red colour and swollen - she had obviously taken a lot of abuse in this most private area. I knew she would have been raped and sodomized countless times since her arrest.

The man standing nearest her was holding an electric prod. I spoke to him.

"What's happening?"

"She's been pretty pathetic, broke quickly and has told us everything she knows, which wasn't much really, apart from the name of the journalist cunt who gave her the DVD. Apparently they know each other from the gym and she asked her to take it and hand it to someone who was going to meet her at the airport. She's not involved in anything really significant."

"You're sure she's told you everything?"

"Yes. We're just going over her stories again to cross reference, but so far everything's checked out. She hasn't got the guts to hold out - she's a sniveling wreck now."

"How long has she been like this?" I asked, motioning to the bar she was hanging from.

"About 3 hours." I smiled. That was a long time to be in the parrot's perch position. I knew every muscle would be cramping and spasming, and her knees would feel like they were being cut open after supporting her weight for so long.

I walked round to her head, pulled up a chair, and sat down. I grabbed her hair and forced her to look at me. "Listen carefully, Julia."

Her hair was soft but soaking wet. There was dried semen on her cheeks and forehead. She was still wearing very discrete diamond earrings. Her eyes were wide with fear, and full of pain and misery. I looked closely into them. "Listen carefully," I repeated.

"Please help me, please make them stop, please no more….."

I slapped her face, not too hard, just enough to get her attention. It worked, she stopped babbling and looked at me, fresh tears trickling from her eyes. I noticed a spot of blood at the corner of her mouth where she had bitten her lip.

"Have you told my men everything you know?"

"Yes, yes, everything, please you must believe me, I don't know anything else."

"And you've given the names of all the traitors that you know?"

"Yes, everyone, please, please no more."

I let go of her hair and her head dropped back. She continued to plead. "Shock her," I said to the soldier standing near her feet.

She went wild. "NO! NO! Please God, no more please, have mercy, I've told you everything!"

The soldier got a bucket of water that was standing against the wall and threw it over her crotch. He placed the cold points of the prod against her vagina and pushed it roughly inside her. She continued to beg until he pressed the button.

Her body jerked wildly against her bonds, hair whipping around spraying sweat, muscles tensed, the metal bar she was hanging from creaking with the strain. An inhuman screeching came from her wide open mouth. He held the button for several seconds, and when he released it she slumped against the ropes gasping and moaning. He slid the prod out of her agonized vagina, and positioned the points to either side of her swollen clitoris before pressing the button again.

More shrieking and jerking. Her mouth was wide open as she screamed and the temptation to thrust my rock hard cock into it was almost irresistible. Her perfect white teeth had dark patches on them - I knew these were from a session with the dentist. She would have been strapped in a specially modified dentist's chair, with attachments to hold her legs spread wide so she was available to be used whenever necessary. Her head would have been held steady with a strap, and a medical gag would have held her mouth wide open so the dentist could work on her teeth with a drill. Once he'd made a nice hole, a wire could be pushed into the hyper-sensitive nerve inside the tooth and then heated until it was red hot, or connected to an electrode to blast electricity into her gums. This could go on for hours, and I'd enjoyed the screams of many women while they'd undergone this treatment.

Tempting as it was I didn't want to spunk down her throat yet as there were two more women to visit and it would have ruined the fun. I motioned for him to stop and he released the button. Her breaths were coming in great gasps, snot was bubbling out of her nose and saliva was running down her face. I waited until she had calmed down a bit before once again grabbing her hair and forcing her to look at me.

"Shall we do that again?" I asked.

She dissolved into floods of tears, sniffing and choking as she kept repeating "Please don't, please don't, please don't."

"Have you told us everything?"

"I swear I have, everything, what do you want me to say? I'll do anything, say anything, but please make them stop, please don't hurt me anymore, I'm begging you, please have mercy."

I released her hair and stood up as her body was racked with choking sobs.

"You're right, she's completely broken, she'd probably give up her mother now."

"She already has," said one of the soldiers, and we laughed together.

"You can do what you want with her." As I left the room she was begging and pleading as they forced the prod into her anus.

It was a short walk down to room 5 where Isabella Consuela, the journalist, was being held. I was interested to see what was happening to her as she had been betrayed by the bitch flight attendant. I knew my men would have told her exactly why she was here. The room was similar to the last one, and all the soldiers stopped and saluted as I walked in. There were four of them.

"Carry on, I'm just going to observe," and I sat in a chair against the wall. Two of the men were leaning against the wall smoking, the other two were in the middle of the room dealing with Isabella. She was in a very unpleasant position.

She was straddling an iron bar that was supported at each end on legs. It was screwed to the floor to prevent any movement. The bar was shaped like a triangle, and was hollow. The bottom side of the triangle was parallel with the floor, so the other two sides formed a ridge at the top. This ridge was lined with teeth, about an inch long, and quite sharp. The bar was buried in Isabella's crotch - that's the only way to describe it. It looked like it was literally going to slice her in two. Her labia had been arranged either side so that her whole weight was resting on the area between her legs. Her ankles were attached to a long bar that ran underneath the frame, holding her legs wide apart. A large weight had been attached to this bar to further pull her crotch down onto the vicious teeth. Her toes were some way off the ground, although they were futilely pointed down trying to find anything that would relieve the pressure.

Her arms were tied tightly behind her back, ropes buried in her flesh holding her elbows and wrists together. A hook was attached to the ropes round her wrists, which had then been winched towards the ceiling pulling her arms up in a light strappado. This forced her body to lean slightly forward - I knew this would mean her sensitive clitoris would be pressed harshly into the hard ridges.

Her nipples had been pierced with several needles - 3 from side to side and one pushed directly into the tip. Wire had been looped over these needles, and attached to a small pulley that was mounted at the front of the horse. This had been tightened so that her nipples and breasts were stretched out in front of her. She couldn't lean any further forward to ease the pressure due to the rope holding her arms behind her. It must have been agony having this pressure exerted through the needles that penetrated her sensitive nipples. Drops of blood dotted the floor underneath them. Other needles had also been thrust through the breasts themselves, and knowing my men I was sure they'd probably been red hot when it had been done.

Her hair was tied into a ponytail, and then attached by a rope to her bound elbows forcing her to hold her head up. A large ball gag was holding her mouth open. This had a hole in the middle of it to which was attached a clear plastic tube. The other end of the tube ended in a funnel which was hanging from the ceiling, slightly above her head, so that anything poured into it would go straight into her mouth.

Having taken in her position, I spent some time studying her. She was obviously exceptionally beautiful, although her perfect features were somewhat distorted by the large gag, and also the pain she was currently in. Her hazel eyes were wide with fear and agony. Her body was long and lean, stomach perfectly toned, breasts not too big but nicely shaped, even though they were currently stretched agonizingly from the needles piercing her nipples. Her dark pubic hair was neatly trimmed, her legs perfectly muscled, twitching from the pressure exerted on them by the weight hanging from the spreader bar. It wasn't surprising she knew the stewardess whore from the gym, both of them must have spent a long time working out.

I looked closer at her crotch, the metal bar so brutally embedded in it. Blood was trickling down the sides, I wondered how much damage was being done to that very sensitive area. When she was next gang raped, which was just a matter of time, I knew it would have her screaming in agony. Which would greatly increase the enjoyment of the men doing it.

Her body was covered in bruises, cuts, welts, burns and other marks that highlighted how she had been abused since her arrest yesterday. I knew that nothing in her worst nightmares could have prepared her for this.

In the corner of the room on a table sat a liquidizer. This was used to prepare the liquid that would be poured into the funnel, and hence into the cunt's mouth. The most disgusting things imaginable would be put into this, and the soldiers would make sure she saw everything - forcing her to look while they pissed, shitted, spat and spunked into the jug, also adding other things that might have been collected - dog shit, spunk from dogs and horses, fiery hot peppers, insects, anything that could be turned into a liquid. And then they would slowly pour it into the funnel and watch as she was forced to swallow everything.

Of course she had to be watched carefully - inevitably she would vomit, and with her mouth gagged there was a real chance of choking. So at the first sign the gag would be removed so she could spew all over herself, before it was replaced and the funnel topped up again. If her vomit could be caught in the jug, it would be added to the mixture, along with anything else that came out of her body - her own blood, piss, shit and snot. I could tell from the puke streaking her breasts that this had already happened to her.

One of the soldiers approached her with a plastic box. He took the lid off and showed her the contents - a mass of writhing maggots.

"Time for a quick snack,"' he smiled at her. She mumbled through the gag, trying to pull away, but I could tell the pain from moving was too great. A couple of extra drops of blood fell from her pierced and stretched nipples. He lifted the box to the funnel and tipped it in. Countless maggots rushed down the tube into her spread open mouth. She went wild but there was nothing she could do. I couldn't imagine what it must be like to have a mouthful of wriggling maggots, and the only thing you can do is swallow them.

The soldier leant close to her ear and whispered. "Maybe we should cut your nipples, clit and labia off and feed you those. Would you like that? Slowly eating yourself alive?"

More maggots were tipped into the funnel. Her eyes widened in horror as her mouth was now full. She coughed and I could see her throat move as she was forced to eat them. "Better swallow more quickly cunt," whispered the soldier to her. "You don't want to choke to death on maggots."

One of the other soldiers picked up a long heating element from the table, the type that would be used in an immersion heater. It was about two feet long. He slid it into the open end of the triangular bar she was sitting astride, and pushed it in until it was fully enclosed. The plug was on the end of a long lead, and he put this into a socket on the wall and switched it on. I smiled, knowing the element would heat the bar that was so firmly embedded in her crotch. To further increase her torment another weight was added to the bar holding her legs wide apart, and I could almost see the iron bar cut further into her most sensitive flesh as the extra weight pulled her down.

Her body was glistening with sweat. I stood up and walked over to her. "Take the gag out," I ordered. One of the soldiers undid the gag and pulled it free of her mouth. Maggots fell from her lips, then she coughed and a bit of thin vomit spilt out over her breasts.

"Clean her up," I said, and one of the soldiers threw a bucket of cold water over her, rinsing the scum from her body.

"Listen carefully to me, Isabella, or the gag goes back in and I leave you here. The only thing I want to hear from you is answers to my questions, nothing else."

"Please…."

"It seems you're a bit of a dumb bitch, shall I leave you?"

"NO, please, I'm listening!" she whimpered.

"You're here because that whore flight attendant gave you up. She told us you gave her the DVD to take out of the country. If it's any consolation, she's no more comfortable than you at the moment. What we want are the names of every person who has helped you - anybody at all. Do you understand?"

"Yes, please, I'll tell you, please let me down, it hurts so much."

I slapped her face, and grabbed her chin to force her to look at me. Her eyes were red from crying, fresh tears running down her cheeks. "Listen you stupid cunt, you're not getting off this until you tell us everything. Until we're sure you have nothing more to confess. So the best thing you can do is tell us the truth. Does your editor know about this?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

"That's better. And other reporters on your paper knew as well?"

"Yes. Please, it's getting hot."

I put my hand onto the bar that was so firmly wedged between her legs. It was indeed getting hotter, not too bad at the moment but I knew that the effect of the heat on her sensitive and damaged genitals would be much more intense. There was the odd click as the metal heated and expanded.

"So you're going to give us the names of everyone who helped you make this DVD?"

"Yes, yes, anything, tell me what you want, please, it hurts so much, please stop, please help me!"

I released her chin, and turned to one of the soldiers. "Put her gag back in."

"NO!" she screamed. "NO, PLEASE, I'LL TELL YOU ANYTHING, PLEASE, PL..." Her yelling turned to incoherent gasps as the gag was replaced in her mouth and tightened behind her head. Her eyes were wide with fear, staring at me, begging and pleading. I smiled.

"I'll be back in a few hours, Isabella. When I ask you for the names of the people who helped you, you better convince me that you're telling me everything or you'll be here for even longer. Do you understand?" I knew she did. I could tell from her eyes she was broken, but I wanted to make absolutely sure.

As I left the room the soldiers were connecting electrodes to the needles piercing her nipples. Small wisps of steam were starting to rise from the serrated bar embedded in her crotch where her sweat and mucous had dripped onto it. Isabella Consuela was ruing the day she thought being an investigative reporter was a good job for a woman.

Next on my list was Maria Sanchez. I walked along the corridor to room 9. As soon as I opened the soundproofed door I was greeted by the sound of a woman screaming. The kind of desperate screaming that a woman driven beyond the point of endurance makes. The kind that makes my dick instantly hard. I closed the door and moved to the center of the room. The soldiers all turned and saluted. The screams died down to a pitiful sobbing and moaning. "At ease," I said and they returned to what they were doing.

Maria Sanchez was hanging from the ceiling by her ankles, legs spread obscenely wide apart. Her wrists were tied behind her back, and her elbows had also been cinched tight, so tight they were touching, pulling her shoulders painfully back and thrusting her breasts forward.

A hook hanging from the ceiling had been attached to the rope around her wrists and pulled upwards, in a kind of upside down strappado. This bowed her body up, so her breasts were pointing to the floor, the strain on her legs, back and shoulders intense. I knew the position would be unbearable, her muscles would be screaming for relief, cramps tearing at every part of her.

They'd obviously given her a lot of attention between her legs, beating her with canes until her labial lips were swollen and her inner thighs were striped with livid marks. But the most striking thing was the handle of the pear protruding from her vagina. The pear was shaped just as its name suggested, narrow at the top and swelling out at the base. It was wide enough to resist being inserted into a woman's vagina, and I knew it would have caused Maria some pain, but would probably not have been a problem if she'd been excited and wet. Of course her genitals were red and swollen from the agonizing cane strokes, so the insertion would have made her scream. The end of the pear had six sharp points, and my men would have made sure these were piercing her cervix by pulling the pear out and ramming it back in several times to ensure it was as deep as possible.

I was amazed that the pear dated from so long ago. Even then men were devising cruel ways of torturing a woman's most sensitive bits. It wasn't just a new phenomenon that had started with the internet. Such a simple idea, but so cruel. I had no idea where the pear had come from. Maybe it was genuinely old, and had torn open the cunts of thousands of women. I liked the idea of generations of women screaming and begging as it was extended. But it was more likely some enterprising person had made it recently.

The pear had already been extended, although not fully. I could see the outline of the wings pushing against her stomach. The lips of her pussy were gaping, but I knew the real stretching and tearing would be happening inside her vagina. The points at the end of the expanding petals, pierced into her cervix, would be pulling the mouth of her womb open. The pain it caused was unbearable.

I spoke to one of the soldiers. "How's it going?"

"She's one tough bitch. Screamed a lot but said nothing, and not begged once. I think she must know lots though, or she wouldn't be holding out so well. We've found she has a sister, we're trying to pick her up now. That might loosen her tongue."

I nodded, grabbed a chair and pulled it over to where Maria was hanging. I sat down and grasped a handful of her hair forcing her to look at me. Her hair was long, black and silky smooth. Her face was beautiful, every feature perfectly proportioned and arranged. Her dark eyes were full of hatred and defiance, but also pain, and most importantly, fear. I smiled at her. I reached out with my right hand and gently stroked her hair, and down the softness of her cheek, wet with her tears. I ran my thumb along her luscious red lips, like a lover would.

"Listen carefully to me, Maria. We need to know everything you know. This will continue until you tell us everything. Nothing but pain, humiliation, degradation."

I nodded to one of the soldiers. He knew without me telling him what was needed, and went to a table at the side of the room, coming back with a hammer. He struck the handle of the pear protruding from between her legs driving it deeper. He didn't need to hit it hard. Maria jerked and screamed as the damaged insides of her genitals were pushed beyond endurance. The spikes were driven further into her distended cervix, her vagina stretched around the obscene width of the pear.

I kept my hold on her hair, forcing her to look at me. After the scream she was sobbing, her breath coming in heaving rasps. Her teeth were clenched from the pain. Fresh tears trickled down her cheeks.

"Are you going to tell us?"

"Fuck you," she spat out between clenched teeth.

I smiled broadly at her. "I can see the fear in your eyes. You know you're going to talk eventually, don't you? Everyone does. It just depends how long. What do you think, Maria? How long can you really stand this? You know this is just a start. We have days, weeks, to carry on. You can't do anything to stop us except tell us what we want to know."

I spoke to the soldiers. "This cunt is going to break. She's being strong now, but I can see into her soul. Connect some electrodes to the pear, and heat up some needles to put through her tits."

I felt Maria jerk against the hold I had on her hair. I looked back at her. "You're probably already ruined as a woman, but we're going to make sure you are permanently damaged. You'll never be able to fuck again. And we're on our way to get your sister."

"No!" she said, again pulling against my grip.

I smiled. "Yes, Maria. You're going to watch while we tear her apart in front of you. Everything you feel she'll feel. Hundreds of men will fuck all her holes. All because of you. But you can save her if you talk."

"You bastards!" she screamed.

The soldiers indicated they were ready. Two clips had been attached to the metal handle of the pear, wires trailing across the floor to a box. I nodded and the switch was clicked, followed by Maria screaming and jerking as the current blasted into her damaged vagina. I moved my chair back, and sat and watched for the next thirty minutes as my men worked on her - opening the pear even wider. Giving her numerous electric shocks into that most sensitive area. Driving red hot needles into her breasts, nipples, thighs, armpits, clitoris, anus and labia. Beating her with canes all over her body.

Her screams grew more desperate, and she was beginning to beg, but still refused to talk. I knew she would, though, especially when we had her sister. After watching these three gorgeous women being tortured it was time for a bit of fun for me. I didn't want to interrupt what was happening to Maria, although I would visit her later and enjoy her body. And her sister as well, if she was attractive enough. I decided I would go back and visit the cunt flight attendant.

I left the room and walked back to room 3. Julia was no longer hanging from the parrot's perch, but was secured to the rape table. The soldiers must have decided they needed a bit a bit of release as well as me. Very convenient. The rape table was used for the purpose its name suggested - it's a short table, just the length of the average female torso, so when a girl is lying on it her ass hangs over one end and her head the other. There are stirrups that her legs are secured to, keeping her thighs spread wide apart and both her holes perfectly available. Her arms were tied to the legs of the table.

I noticed she was now wearing black open toed high heeled shoes. I smiled, knowing my men had put her sexy shoes back on her to make her look more attractive. They often made the women dress just so they could enjoy tearing their clothes off again. I thought about all the flight attendants I had seen wearing shoes like these as you walk onto the plane, only to change them for ugly flat heeled ones for walking up and down the aisle. Bitches.

One of the soldiers was between her legs thrusting into her. He was grabbing her breasts and squeezing them tightly. Her head hung backwards over the table, a dental spreader gag in her mouth holding it open. Her long blonde hair was hanging down towards the floor. The men stopped to salute me, but I waved them on. There were four of them standing around the sides of the room watching the rape take place. I waited until the man fucking her finished, emptying himself inside her body.

I walked up to her. She looked up at me, sobbing and drooling from the gag. She must have been raped more times than she could count by now. I grasped two handfuls of her hair, on each side of her head, and held her head steady so she had to look at me. She didn't attempt to say anything, just continued sniveling.

"OK Julia, it's time for the main course. I don't want any of that chicken or fish shit you serve on your flights, what I want is whore stewardess mouth, and that's exactly what you're going to give me. I want to feel your tongue working my cock as it goes all the way down your throat."

I let go of her hair with one hand and undid my zip. My rock hard cock sprang out, and holding her hair in both hands again I slid it into her mouth. I groaned as the warmth and wetness enveloped me. I slid backwards and forwards slowly. With the gag keeping her mouth wide open there was nothing she could do to stop me.

"Come on, whore, get that tongue working," and she did make a pathetic effort to do so. After a few strokes, I thrust forward hard and felt her throat open to take me all the way in. Unlike the men you read about in porn, my cock isn't enormous, just average, but rammed down the throat of some bitch it is plenty big enough. She gasped and choked and I could feel her trying to pull away but my grip on her hair was far too tight. I pulled out and she choked some more, drool running down her upside down face and into her hair. I thrust forward again, and the sensation was delicious.

As I raped her throat I thought about my girlfriend giving me head. She didn't do anything like this, and wouldn't let me come in her mouth. In fact we hadn't been getting along that well recently. We were already together when the coup happened, and she had no idea what my role was. All she did was nag and moan about everything, and she wasn't that great a fuck to make up for the hassle. Although she was smoking hot.

There was more choking and slobbering from Julia. "That's it whore, take my cock," I groaned as I slid into her throat again. This is what my girlfriend should be doing. Maybe a session down here would make the bitch a bit more amenable. The more I thought about it the more my cock hardened.

"Make this cunt scream," I said to one of the soldiers. He walked over to us with a toilet brush, a ring of stiff plastic bristles around the end of it. He positioned it at the entrance of her vagina, then rammed it inside her. She screamed around my cock, her tongue lashing against the head of my dick. "That's it you piece of shit whore, take my cock into your fucking throat."

He was thrusting and twisting the brush as I rammed harder and harder into her mouth, still holding her hair. Her red painted toes were curling inside her sexy shoes in a very erotic way. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to see my girlfriend down here, screaming and begging as an electric prod was rammed up her cunt, making her promise anything I wanted, making her take every one of the soldiers cum down her throat before she crawled to me on her hands and knees and begged to take mine.

Her nose was slamming into my ball sack as I used her mouth like a cunt and brutally fucked her face. The soldier was pulling the brush almost completely out of her body before ramming it back up her vagina again. The bristles were red with blood, I knew it was causing her unbearable pain as it destroyed her insides. She was screaming and choking and slobbering and gagging. Her throat was massaging my cock wonderfully, and I felt the familiar tightening in my balls.

"Swallow it all you whore, don't you spill a drop," and I exploded into her throat, pumping load after load into her. The next time I was on a flight watching one of those flight attendant babes doing the emergency demonstration I'd think about this bitch and wonder if they'd known her.

Eventually I finished and pulled out of her mouth. Her face was covered in all sorts of goo. I used her hair to wipe my cock clean before doing my trousers up.

I walked over to the door and told the man nearest to carry on with what they were doing. She'd be sucking and fucking a lot more men before the day was over. I left the room and walked down the corridor. In the elevator up to the floor where my office was another hot looking woman got in. I stood behind her and sniffed her perfume. My mind wondered to thoughts of my girlfriend begging and pleading for mercy as the electricity tore through her vagina. I would have my men pick her up from her fancy lawyer's office. My cock was already getting hard again.