Susanna Martinez rubbed her eyes as she waited for the kettle to boil. It had been a very long day, teaching as normal, then after school conducting interviews with all the parents in her class. Luckily there was just one left, then she could at last go home and have a glass of wine.
The kettle clicked off as it boiled, and Susanna poured the hot water into her cup. She stirred it, added milk, and started walking back to her classroom from the staff room. The school was quiet, most of the teachers having left long ago. The cleaner was in the corridor and she said hello to him as she passed. Once back in her classroom she sat at her desk, took a sip of the hot drink she'd prepared, and checked her notes to be ready for the last meeting.
The pupil was Olivier Sanchez – he was 7 years old, as were all the children in her class, and was quite a troublesome child, being constantly naughty and disruptive. It was always difficult talking to parents about this as they nearly always thought their beloved offspring could do no wrong. She hoped Olivier's parents were going to be more reasonable.
There was a knock on the door, and she called "Come in" and stood up to greet them. The door opened, and Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez walked into the room. He was tall, maybe in his late fifties, and had a full beard that was going grey as was the hair on his head. His wife was much younger, probably mid twenties, and extremely attractive – long blonde hair, perfect figure and very sophisticated clothes – although Susanna thought her skirt was a bit too short for a meeting with her son's teacher.
Or perhaps her step-son – although it was probably mathematically possible, for some reason Susanna thought it unlikely that she was Olivier's mother. They introduced themselves to each other, shook hands and sat down.
"So how is Olivier getting on?" asked Mr. Sanchez.
"Well, he's getting on OK, but he is quite disruptive in class," Susanna explained.
"Disruptive? In what way?"
Susanna looked at him. He was staring at her, and although he was smiling his eyes were cold and cruel. He seemed to be challenging her in some way. She didn't know why, but his look sent a chill down her back.
"Ummmm, well…." she started to say, finding it difficult to concentrate. Somehow the list of transgressions she had in her head seemed trivial and hardly worth mentioning.
"Come on Miss Martinez, you said he was disruptive, what does he do? You must know. Although you seem to be having trouble recalling what, so it can't be that important."
"No, it is," Susanna replied, although she was feeling flustered. He had taken control of the situation; she didn't understand why she was feeling so intimidated. Like a schoolchild rather than a teacher. "It's just, he, well…"
"Come on Miss Martinez, spit it out," he said in an impatient way. "What do I have to do to make you tell me?"
Susanna looked at Mrs. Sanchez who was watching her with a fixed grin on her face. Her legs were crossed, most of her thighs exposed by the short dress, and Mr. Sanchez's hand was resting on her leg, very high up, almost under her hemline. Disgusting, thought Susanna, what do they think they're doing?
She looked back at Mr. Sanchez, trying to collect her thoughts. This was ridiculous. Why was she feeing so flustered? His last words floated through her head – what do I have to do to make you tell me. Make you tell me. MAKE YOU TELL ME.
Oh my God. It was him. She suddenly realized why she found him so intimidating. It was him. After all these years. She felt faint. The blood drained from her face.
Mr. Sanchez stood up, followed by his wife. "I don't know what's wrong with you, Miss Martinez, but perhaps we should come back when you're feeling better. Goodbye." He strode towards the door, followed by his wife whose high heels clicked across the wooden floor.
Susanna continued to stare at the door after it had closed behind them. Her mind raced. Was it really him? It can't be. It must be impossible. She quickly gathered her things together and left the classroom, rushing down the corridor to the outside door. As she opened it, she saw them on the other side of the car park. It was deserted, with just her car on one side and the Sanchez's on the other. Mrs Sanchez was leaning back against the car, her husband in front of her. They were kissing, full open mouthed kissing, and he had his right hand between her legs. Her skirt was rucked up, and Susanna could see her white panties – his fingers had pushed them to the side and were obviously buried in her vagina.
Susanna stood and watched them with her mouth open. She couldn't believe they could behave so obscenely in full public view in the car park of a school. She watched for a few minutes, mesmerized. Eventually they broke apart, Mrs Sanchez pulled her panties back into place and smoothed her skirt down, they got into the car and drove off. Susanna crossed quickly to her own car and drove home.
Pouring her second glass of wine, Susanna sat in her front room and tried to process what had happened. Was Mr. Sanchez really Captain Alvarez? The man who had raped and tortured her all those years ago? What were the chances of him turning up at her school, the father of one of her pupils? She took a big swig from the wine glass. She had put it all behind her, it had been difficult, but now she was free – at least she had been – the appearance of Captain Alvarez brought it all back.
It was eleven years ago. Susanna had been working at a law firm. It was a black time for the country, a vicious dictatorship ruled and disappearances and killings were commonplace. Susanna had been arrested under pretence of her being a spy, and for nearly a month was held incommunicado and subjected to the most hideous tortures. She was raped countless times. Her sister was also arrested and they had been tortured together. And Captain Alvarez had been the man in charge of it all.
She realized she was crying. She got a tissue and wiped her tears. God knows what would have happened to her in the end, but she was rescued following a coup which overthrew the dictatorship and returned democracy. All prisoners were released. She and her sister spent months recovering, both physically and mentally. When she was ready to go back to work, she soon realized she couldn't carry on working at the law firm. During one of the torture sessions Alvarez had taunted her saying how the men in her law practice were constantly trying to look up her skirt, and how they would have loved to torture her and force her to suck their cocks. Although she knew that was just part of his abuse, she couldn't look at them in the same way and resigned.
In fact, practicing law had seemed such a pointless thing. She decided to retrain as a primary school teacher and had been working in her current position for four years. Although the money was much worse, she was a lot happier.
She'd never married. She'd had plenty of offers - although she was now 39 she was still a stunning woman. She'd dated a few men, but after being gang raped countless times she just couldn't bring herself to let a man touch her so they never lasted long. Her sister had left the country and refused to talk to her. She blamed Susanna for all the things that had been done to her, which was completely unfair, but Susanna understood. Lying naked in a basement, screaming while laughing men sent electricity surging through your genitals, tended to warp your view of the world.
Following the coup there had been a big witch-hunt to track down the people responsible. Susanna had testified, which had been a nightmare experience – standing in a packed court room while the barristers had asked her questions like "Did they push the electrode up your vagina?" "Did they sodomize you?" "Were you forced to swallow their semen?" "Were the cigarettes used to burn your nipples?" It had seemed like the most humiliating experience of her life, almost as bad as the actual experience – but of course nothing could match that. Her sister had refused to testify, and that had been part of the problems between them. She wanted to pretend it had never happened, but Susanna wanted justice.
Many people were imprisoned for life, and although she tried to find out there was no mention of Alvarez. It seemed he wasn't one of those tried. She hoped that it was a false name and maybe he'd been tried under his real name. But now he was back. Maybe.
She needed to find out if it really was him, and report him to the police. She decided to try and get his address from the school.
Susanna tossed and turned in her bed.
"As you refused to tell us how your sister was involved, we thought we'd ask her ourselves. I must say it's been very entertaining having two Miss Martinez's in our care. She's not as pretty as you, but she's not bad, and she sounds a lot like you when she begs. It would be easy to confuse the two of you. But her cunt is much tighter. At least it was when she arrived here."
"If you don't tell us about the CIA your slut of a sister is going to suffer for it. Is that what you want? Do you want to see her having her cunt fried because of you? Or maybe we'll soak her pubic hair in lighter fluid and set it alight? Would you like that? I think we'll get the dogs to fuck her next time, she seemed to like it too much when we all fucked her. I think she must spend all day at that hospital on her back, letting every patient fuck her stupid. I don't know why she bothered training to be a doctor, she could just have spread her legs. Maybe that is how she qualified?"
"I want you to go over there and stick your face between her legs, and lap at her cunt like it's the best thing you've ever done."
"Either you lick her cunt or I'm going to shove the thick end of a baseball bat so far up her it will come out of her mouth. Which is it going to be?"
"I want to see your tongue slurping that clit. If I think you're not doing it properly then this bat will be going up her cunt first and then her arse. And then you'll feel it as well. So get licking."
"We're going to play a game, which I think you will be familiar with. Suck my cock, and until you make me come your lovely sister will be having her cunt zapped. So the quicker you do it the better for her."
Susanna woke with a scream. She was bathed in sweat. Every detail had seemed like it was happening all over again. She rushed to the toilet and was violently sick. Slumped on the floor next to the toilet, she looked down at her breasts. Even after all this time there were faint marks from the cigarettes and the canes that had been used on them over and over again. She started sobbing uncontrollably – that bastard had to pay.
The following day she went to the school office. She was friends with the girl who worked there, and that helped when she asked for the contact details of the Sanchez's. She wasn't really supposed to have access to this information, but she told a story about Olivier leaving his phone at school and she wanted to return it. Once in her car, she drove to the address. It was a large house in an expensive area. She parked outside and sat watching for a while, not really sure what she was doing there or what she was intending to do. Nobody came or left.
Eventually she drove home. She spent the night googling Sanchez to see what she could find out. He seemed to be an accountant for a big corporation but there was very little information. She couldn't find a Facebook profile or any other social media information.
That night she had more nightmares. She dreamt of Alvarez holding her head by the hair, watching her face as she screamed and begged for mercy as his men tortured her. And then his face as he was on top of her, thrusting into her, calling her whore and slut and bitch until he exploded inside her.
She didn't do anything for the next couple of days. But then she had to go to his house again. This time his car was in the driveway, the same one his wife had been leaning against while he thrust his fingers inside her. Checking her hair in the mirror before getting out of her car (pathetic – why did it matter? - but for some reason it seemed important) she walked over to his house and rang the bell. Her heart thumped in her chest – she felt like a teenager calling round to see a date. The door was opened by Mrs. Sanchez. She was wearing shorts and a blouse that was unbuttoned so that her breasts were almost visible.
"Oh, hello," she said. "What are you doing here?"
Susanna swallowed. "Hello Mrs. Sanchez. Is your husband in?"
Before she could answer a man's voice called out "Who is it darling?" and he appeared at the door.
"Miss Martinez. What a surprise. What can we do for you?"
Your cunt is tight, bitch.
It was definitely Alvarez. He was older, of course, but now she could see it was him. His voice was the same.
"Um, can I talk to you in private?" Susanna asked.
"Is it about Olivier?"
"Not exactly." She didn't elaborate.
"OK, come this way." He opened the door, and led the way to an office. Susanna glanced at Mrs Sanchez as she walked by, who was watching her without a smile. She wondered what she was thinking. If it had been her she would have been concerned that a woman wanted to talk to her husband without her, but she didn't say anything.
Once in the office Sanchez (Alvarez) closed the door. Susanna felt a pang of fear as she was in a closed room with him.
"What's this about?" he asked, clearly irritated rather than worried.
Susanna swallowed. "What were you doing 11 years ago?"
He frowned. "What's it got to do with you?"
She decided to come right out with it. "Is your name Alvarez?"
"You know it's not. My name is Sanchez."
What color panties are you wearing?
"I recognize you. Don't you remember me?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about. We only met the other day at my son's school."
Take off your clothes.
"You were in the army. I was arrested. You tortured and raped me." It sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud.
"I think you'd better go. You're clearly deranged."
Do you have anything to say, Miss Martinez, or do we tickle your pretty little cunt with a nice electric shock?
He moved to the door and opened it. She wasn't sure what to do but followed him out of the room. He opened the front door and said "Please leave now."
Mrs Sanchez was still standing in the hall. As Susanna walked past her she said "Your husband raped and tortured me."
"GET OUT!" yelled Sanchez, and grabbed her by the arm propelling her towards the door.
The only people who care about you, Miss Martinez, are us. And we only care about causing you more pain than you ever imagined existed.
"I'm going to the police," she yelled as she walked down the steps of the house.
"I wouldn't do that if you know what's good for you," Sanchez shouted after her.
She didn't do anything for a couple of days. She was sure it was Alvarez, but what would happen if she told someone – would they believe her? Would they think she was mad? Perhaps she should discuss it with someone to see what they think – but who? There wasn't anyone she was friendly enough with, and she certainly didn't want to explain to anyone what she had suffered.
Eventually she decided she had to go to the police. At the station she was introduced to a detective, who took her to a small room. She told him everything. He made lots of notes, and asked her lots of questions. She could feel herself getting flushed as she told him about her rape and torture, although she didn't give many details and he didn't ask for any. He seemed to be very concerned, and was sensitive to her feelings. Finally it was over, and he told her he would make some enquiries and be in touch in the next couple of days.
Sitting in her front room the following evening she went over everything that had happened. She was sure she had done the right thing. She poured another glass of wine – she was drinking too much at the moment.
She was woken from her sleep. It took her a while to work out what was going on. She'd obviously fallen asleep in the chair in her front room. She was a bit groggy, and then she heard her doorbell ring. That must have been what had woken her up. The television was on, some kind of nature documentary. She picked up her phone and checked the clock – it was 8.30 so not too late. She went to the door, fluffing her hair to make it more presentable. She could see a figure through the frosted glass, and opened it.
She didn't see the fist that smashed into her face. It was a powerful blow that sent her flying back into the hallway, landing heavily on her back. Pain radiated from her jaw, and she saw stars.
The man who had hit her stepped into the hallway, followed by his companion who kicked the door shut behind him. The first man reached down and grabbed her hair. He dragged her through the doorway into the front room. Susanna was beginning to come to her senses and rolled onto her front then got to her knees. The second man who had just come through the doorway kicked her hard in the stomach and she went down to the floor again, retching.
With practiced ease they manhandled her upright so she was on her knees, and duct tape was wrapped round her mouth gagging her. Her arms were pulled behind her back and a zip tie was fastened around her wrists holding them tight.
Now that she was securely tied and gagged, the first man held her hair in one hand to stop her squirming away and pushed some stray strands away from her face. Susanna stared at him with wide eyes, her cheeks bulging round the tight tape gagging her, breathing deeply through her nose.
He whistled. "Wow, you are one hot looking whore." He ran his hand along her cheek, then down to her shoulder and continued until he was cupping her breast. He squeezed it roughly, making Susanna gasp.
She was absolutely terrified. Being tied and gagged and pawed by a man she didn't know brought all the horror of her previous experiences back. She tried to pull away but it was impossible. His hand slid down her stomach and under the waistband of her jeans. She screamed into her gag as his fingers snaked into her panties, between her legs, parting her lips and pushing inside her.
"I can't wait to fuck you. I'm going to do you in every hole."
"Oi," shouted the second man. "Cut that out, we need to get going."
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll be seeing you later." He licked the side of her face, his saliva leaving a wet trail.
The two men grabbed her and pulled her roughly to her feet. On the television a lion was chasing and attacking a helpless antelope. She knew how it felt. They dragged her through the house to the back door, then out into the garden. Susanna tried to resist but they were far too strong. She tried to scream for help but the gag meant nothing came out. It was dark and she knew the chances of one of her neighbors seeing her was remote. They went through the back gate and she was bundled into the boot of a car that was parked in the garage compound behind her house.
The boot lid was slammed shut, and she heard the men get into the car and close the doors before the engine started and the car sped off. It was pitch black in the boot. Her legs weren't tied and she tried to kick at the side of the boot but there wasn't enough room to straighten her legs so she couldn't get much force. Her hands were useless, tied behind her back, and there was no way anybody would hear her screaming from outside the car. Eventually she tired herself out and just lay still, crying.
She tried to think through what was happening. What did these men want? It was obvious they were going to rape her, but who were they? Why her?
She lost all sense of time. The car stopped frequently at what she presumed were traffic lights or junctions. Whenever it stopped she tried kicking the sides of the boot again in the vain hope somebody would hear. Eventually it stopped and the engine was switched off. The boot lid opened and she screwed her eyes up as light flooded in, blinding her. They grabbed her and yanked her roughly out. As before she tried to resist but it was hopeless. They took her into what seemed to be a large deserted warehouse. She was led across the room to the middle, where a chain hung from the ceiling. This was hooked over the zip tie securing her wrists behind her back, and then hoisted up.
Her arms were pulled up behind her. The strain on her shoulders increased as she was raised up into a strappado position. They continued raising the chain until her heels were lifted slightly off the ground. Her arms were pointing almost straight up, her body bent forward at the waist. The pain was intense.
The first man lifted her head by the chin. "I'm looking forward to seeing you later, gorgeous," and he kissed her on the tip of her nose. Both men left the warehouse.
She had no idea how long she hung there, but she did know that with every second that passed she was in more pain. Her shoulders were bent painfully up, and pain was radiating down her back and sides. She could ease the pain in her shoulders slightly by rising up on her toes, but it wasn't long before her arches and calves started cramping. She stayed as long as she could, legs trembling, before she had to relax and new bolts of agony shot through her shoulders. Eventually the pain in her shoulders became too much and she was back on her toes again, and so the cycle repeated.
The position of her arms made it difficult to draw in breaths, compounded by the tape holding her mouth closed so she had to breathe through her nose. The pulled up position of her arms meant her body was almost parallel with the floor, the sweat pouring from her face and dripping off her nose. She sobbed quietly to herself, the pain getting worse and worse, every tiny movement agony.
Eventually she heard a noise, a door opening, and then footsteps walking across the floor. More than one person. Her heart was beating faster, fear welling up in her stomach, but she was in so much pain almost anything seemed preferable. The footsteps got closer and then stopped near her. She couldn't raise her head to see who it was as it sent too much pain through her shoulders, but someone grabbed her sopping hair and forced her head up . She screamed into the gag with the pain, and then saw Alvarez and the Inspector from the police station smiling at her. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.
"So, Miss Martinez, we meet once again. I expect by now you're regretting going to the police and not taking my advice."
Her hair was released, and then a clanking noise filled the room as the chain came down. The relief as her arms were lowered was immense. She could now stand on the floor properly. The chain was stopped while her arms were still held high behind her back, but she was no longer hanging by them. The tape covering her mouth was grabbed and ripped off, causing her to cry out. Her mouth was dry, she could hardly move her jaws.
"You were right, Miss Martinez, as you probably realize now – I am Captain Alvarez." He pulled a chair forward and sat on it so he could look at her. The Inspector was standing beside him.
"Why aren't you in prison, you bastard," said Susanna. Despite her fear, she was overcome with anger that he was free.
"You must think I'm stupid. Obviously I took precautions to make sure I was OK once things inevitably came to an end. Lots of the politicians went to prison – their egos made them weak, they started to believe their own propaganda and thought they were untouchable. And if it makes you feel any better most of the men who fucked you are in prison as well."
"Does your wife know what a sick fuck you are?"
"My wife is a money grabbing bitch. She's a good fuck, and puts up with the fact that my tastes in sex are a bit, shall we say, rougher than the average man so long as she has access to my bank account. She has no idea about my past, and was obviously a bit upset by your accusations, but a few more diamonds eased her worries."
Alvarez stood up and walked towards her. "You've been a really stupid bitch, Miss Martinez. I had no idea who you were when I came to your school. Even your name meant nothing to me. If you'd kept your mouth shut you would have only had to see me once a year at most, maybe not even that. But you had to come to my house and threaten all I have. And even though I warned you not to, you had to go to the police. Luckily the Inspector and I go a long way back – your complaint has not been recorded, he contacted me instead. So now you're here."
"This isn't the old days. You won't get away with this."
"I wouldn't worry your pretty little head about that, Miss Martinez. What you need to do is tell me who else you've told about me."
Susanna stared at him. Was there any point telling him she'd told someone else? Or should she tell him the truth that nobody else knew. She decided making him think somebody else knew might give her some time.
"I've told lots of people," she answered.
"I'm not telling you that."
Alvarez smiled. "Well, Miss Martinez, it seems we may have turned back time. I want some information and I need to persuade you to tell me."
He picked up a case that was lying on the floor – he must have brought it with him – and placed it on a table that was standing nearby. Opening it, he pulled out two long wires and walked towards Susanna. One was red and one was black, and each wire ended in a saw toothed clip. The horrible realization dawned.
"No, please, don't do this. I didn't tell anyone. Please don't. You don't need to. Nobody else knows. I was lying."
The Inspector stepped forward and ripped open her blouse. Susanna tried to move away. She was held by her arms so was unable to move very far. She tried to kick out but it was impossible to get any kind of power. The two men took in the arousing view of her almost hanging by her arms, her breasts cupped in the lacy white bra she was wearing. The Inspector grabbed her bra and wrenched it free of her breasts. Susanna was slightly bent over by the position of her arms, so her breasts hung down towards the floor. They were still firm despite her age. The Inspector grasped each nipple and roughly squeezed and pulled, feeling them harden under his touch. Eventually he released them, grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. With his other arm he held her round the waist to hold her still. Alvarez moved directly in front of her, still holding the clips. He looked at her breasts, her nipples hard, and noticed the faint scars that he himself had inflicted.
"Please don't, please don't!" Susanna repeated over and over. He said nothing, and closed a clamp over each nipple. Susanna screamed as the jaws bit into the sensitive flesh.
"This brings back such memories, doesn't it Miss Martinez? I expect you can remember what electric shocks to your tits feel like, and I'm sure you know that these clips will eventually be on your cunt if you don't tell me what I want to know. So who did you tell?"
"I didn't tell anyone, please believe me, you don't have to do this, please!"
"I don't believe you," said Alvarez, and he walked back to the box on the table. The Inspector let her go, and then Alvarez pressed the button.
Susanna screamed as the electricity tore into her breasts. She had thought she'd remembered every detail of the abuse she had suffered 11 years ago. But she was wrong. The passing of time had dulled her recollection of how much pain electricity through the nipples caused. It hurt more than she could possibly imagine.
It was only on for a few seconds before Alvarez released the button. She was left gasping and panting, her nipples tingling. Almost immediately it was on again, this time much more powerful. Her muscles tensed and she could no longer support herself on her legs, hanging by her arms which sent pain shooting down them. Her nipples and breasts felt like they were being heated from the inside.
The current stopped and Susanna hung by her arms for a while before she could regain her feet. Her breasts were throbbing. Tears were tricking down her cheeks. "Please," she whispered.
Alvarez spoke. "I obviously don't have access to such sophisticated equipment these days, but I think this does quite well. You might be interested to know my wife has had these clips on her nipples, but you've already experienced a level of current far greater than she ever has. And there's still a long way to go. So who else have you told about my real identity?"
"Nobody, please, I haven't told anyone."
"What about your boyfriend?"
"I don't have one."
"Really? You surprise me Miss Martinez. A bitch as attractive as you and nobody fucking her? I guess maybe we spoiled you – once you've had so many cocks up your cunt one man is never going to keep you satisfied."
Susanna looked at him through tear-filled eyes, then screamed and jerked as once more the current poured into her nipples. He held the button for nearly ten seconds before she was released from hell, and she hung helplessly by her arms again, the pain in her shoulders almost as bad as the electricity through her breasts. Drool ran from her mouth.
"Please," she whimpered. "Please no more, please." The memories from all those years ago came flooding back, the horror of being abused over and over again, no end in sight.
"Who else have you told?"
"Nobody, please believe me, I didn't tell anyone."
"You expect me to believe you went to the police but hadn't mentioned it to a single person? Come on Miss Martinez, do you think I'm completely stupid?"
"It's true, please…." Her voice turned into a scream as the current was on again. Every muscle tensed, it was much stronger than before, she could feel the metal clips on her nipples heating up burning the sensitive flesh of her nipples as well as the electricity flowing through them and making her breasts feel like they were going to explode.
When it was over she could hardly talk but she was desperate to do anything to make it stop. "Yes I told people, please I told people."
"Which people did you tell, Miss Martinez?"
"I don't know, people at school, other people, please stop."
"I think you're playing me for a fool, Miss Martinez. You're just telling me any rubbish to stop the pain."
"What do you want me to say?" sobbed Susanna, openly crying now. "Please, just tell me, I'll say anything, don't hurt me anymore, please!"
"I want the truth, Miss Martinez."
"I've told you I didn't tell anyone." Her whole body was shaking with sobs. "Please."
"I don't believe you," said Alvarez, and before she could say anything else the current was on again, even stronger than before although that had seemed impossible. She could smell burning flesh as she thrashed around almost dislocating her shoulders, her mouth wide open screaming in pain, the electricity sizzling through her nipples and spreading through the sensitive flesh of her breasts.
When it was turned off she was barely conscious. Alvarez unclipped the wires from her nipples which she barely noticed. The chain was lowered until she was lying on the concrete floor. The Inspector cut the zip-tie that was holding her arms behind her back, releasing the chain. Susanna lay on the ground as he fetched a bucket of water which he emptied over her head. It was freezing cold and brought her back to consciousness, choking as she had inhaled a large amount.
She could still barely move as her arms were so stiff and sore from being held painfully behind her back for so long. The Inspector grabbed her hair and pulled her to her knees. Alvarez stood in front of her and took his cock out.
"Open your mouth, cunt," he said.
Susanna was already broken. She knew from her experiences 11 years ago there was no point resisting. They would be able to make her do anything. There was no point making things any harder than they needed to be. She opened her mouth and Alvarez placed the tip of his cock inside, then slowly moved it forward. The thought went through her mind that this was the first cock she'd touched for 11 years – and possibly it was the last one she'd touched then. She was ready for him to thrust into her throat, as she knew all the men that had raped her had always wanted to do that. But she wasn't ready for him to release a stream of piss. She pulled back slightly, but the Inspector was still holding her hair.
"Don't you fucking pull away, you whore. Swallow it all, cunt," said Alvarez, and she tried to gulp down as much as she could of the warm liquid although lots of it spilled out of her mouth and ran down her body and across her breasts, the acrid urine making her nipples sting even more that they already were.
When he was finished he stepped back and put his cock back into his trousers. The Inspector moved in front of her, his cock already out, and thrust into her mouth.
"I better not feel any teeth, bitch," he said, and he did thrust straight into her throat. Susanna gagged, and concentrated on keeping her mouth wide open. She didn't want to risk making them even angrier by accidentally hurting them with her teeth. He was holding her hair, forcing her head backwards and forwards so his cock slid in and out of her throat. She was gagging, spit dripping from her mouth, but did nothing to try and stop him. How many men had forced her to do this? Maybe hundreds.
It didn't take him long to come, and he held her tight, her nose pressed against his stomach as he spurted into her throat. Eventually he released her and pulled from her mouth. She coughed, and semen drooled from her mouth down her chin.
"Stand up, cunt," said Alvarez, and Susanna got slowly to her feet. The two men observed her closely. She was standing with her arms by her sides. Her black hair was plastered against her head from the water that had been thrown over her. Her blouse and bra hung torn from her shoulders. She made no attempt to cover her breasts which were exposed, glistening with water and urine, the nipples hard and swollen, slightly scorched. She was still wearing her jeans and shoes.
"Who have you told about me?" Alvarez asked.
She shook her head. "Nobody, please it's the truth I haven't told anybody." She was crying, a large tear running from her red rimmed eyes.
"Take off your clothes, Miss Martinez."
"Please, no. You don't have to do this. I won't tell anyone, I'll pretend I never met you. Please."
"I won't ask you again, cunt. Take off your clothes."
Susanna knew there was no choice. Alvarez and the Inspector could easily force her which would almost certainly just mean more pain. She was terrified, but there was nothing she could do. Sobbing, she pulled the torn remains of her blouse down her arms and dropped it onto the floor, followed by her bra. The two men were watching her intently as she bent down and pulled her shoes off. Standing up straight again she reached to the clasp on her jeans, undid it, then pulled the zipper down with a rasping noise. Her pale blue panties came into view as she pushed the tight jeans down her legs. The material clung to her skin. Once she stepped out of them she stood up straight and stared at the two men.
They were smiling in a threatening way. She was almost completely exposed, just the tiny blue panties the final piece of clothing. Slowly she grasped the waistband, and eased them down her legs until they were pooled around her feet. Her dark, trimmed pubic hair showed as a contrast against her paler skin.
"Who else have you told about my real identity Miss Martinez?"
"Please, for God's sake I haven't told anyone, please stop this!"
"You know I'll find out the truth eventually."
"No, no, no please I'm begging you, don't do this, nobody knows, I didn't tell anyone, please don't!"
They grabbed an arm each and led her across the room to a metal chair. She tried to struggle and pull away but they were far too strong. The seat was missing so it just consisted of the metal tubes making up the frame. They pushed Susanna into it, quickly and efficiently fastening her with zip ties – her ankles pulled back and attached to the rear struts so she was forced to sit with legs apart, and her arms pulled over the back rest and secured low down.
The Inspector picked up a bar that was lying on the ground. It was about 2 feet in length, made of iron with ridges along its length. It was rusty and stained with something dark colored. He tapped it against the front strut of the chair between her spread thighs. A loud clanging sound echoed round the vast warehouse, the reverberations of the blow rippling through the chair frame.
Susanna stared at it with horror filled wide eyes. It would undoubtedly cause a lot of damage if it was smashed against a leg or rib, but she knew something even more horrible was intended. Her fears were realized as the Inspector knelt down, and reached between her wide spread thighs. Her sex was gaping open and he stroked his fingers slowly along the slit from her anus across the mouth of her vagina to her clitoris and back.
"Oh God, please don't, please, I didn't tell anyone, I swear, please don't!"
Neither of the men spoke. The Inspector held her labia apart with the fingers of his right hand and placed the end of the iron bar at the entrance to her vagina. Susanna pulled against the zipties holding her but they refused to budge.
"Please," she sobbed, staring pleadingly at Alvarez. "Please don't do this."
"Who else have you told?"
"NOBODY!" she screamed. "I haven't told anyone, please you must believe me I'm begging you!"
The Inspector pushed the tip of the bar inside her. It was too long to fit between her body and the floor so he had to hold it at an angle of about 45 degrees. As he pushed it deeper the end pressed into the back wall of her vagina and scraped the delicate flesh. The pain was excruciating and Susanna screamed as it forced its way inside. It was thick enough to stretch her significantly, more than a dick would have, and the ridges tore at her insides. The Inspector had to grasp it with both hands to force it as deep as he could.
Once the end was pressed hard against her cervix he gave one last shove so the bottom end was wedged against the floor holding it firmly in place. A trickle of blood ran down the side of the bar.
Susanna's screams had reduced to gasps and sobs. Alvarez grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so she was forced to look at him. Her face was covered in sweat.
"I'm losing patience with you, cunt. Tell me who else you've told about me."
"What do you want me to say?"' sobbed Susanna. "Just tell me, I'll say anything, please take it out it hurts so much, please!"
"I want the truth. Who else have you told?"
"I've told you, nobody, plleeease……"
The Inspector had brought the case with the electric shock machine over, and was clipping one of the wires to the bar impaling her. He used his fingers to spread her vulva apart so that the second clip could close firmly over her clitoris. Susanna jerked as the vicious teeth sank into the nerve rich flesh.
"Oh God, please, please don't, tell me what you want, please don't do this to me!"
The Inspector twisted the dial and Susanna's body jerked as the current flowed. She screamed, an inhuman sound, every muscle tensed, head thrown back, hair flying, mouth open. When the current was turned off her muscles relaxed. The tension had raised her a couple of inches above the hard penetrating bar and as they relaxed she slammed down again, the blunt end smashing agonizingly into her cervix.
Her head slumped forward, her mouth open, drool dripping onto her breasts and legs. She saw the Inspector reach for the box. "Please," she managed to whimper before the electricity speared through her vagina and clitoris again, once more forcing her muscles to contract, her vagina clamping painfully around the rough metal bar inside her. She rose up, toes and fingers curling, mouth wide as she screamed in unbearable agony, breasts thrust upwards, nipples hard. Liquid fire spread through her groin, her insides feeling like they were melting.
Alvarez took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. Susanna's hair was draped towards the floor, the ends whipping around, sweat dripping off the tips.
The Inspector cut the power, and she slumped down, the end of the bar almost penetrating her cervix as her weight forced it deeper up her vagina. Blood was trickling in a constant stream down the bar.
"How that was that, cunt?' laughed the Inspector. "Is it reaching your G-spot?"
Alvarez grasped her hair and pulled her head back. Puffing on his cigarette until it was glowing red he touched it to the tip of her right nipple. Susanna yelled, but the pain was nothing compared to the electricity – even with it turned off her insides were throbbing.
"Who else did you tell, Miss Martinez?"
"Nobody, please stop, please stop, what do you want from me? Oh God, please no more, please have mercy, I'm begging you!"
"You remember how it was, don't you, Miss Martinez? It goes on forever. No end until you tell me everything. You can't hold out. You will tell me. Who else knows about me?"
Susanna couldn't even talk intelligently – she just babbled and begged for mercy. She remembered everything from eleven years ago. The desperation. The pain. The rapes.
The Inspector turned the current on, and once more the electricity speared into her genitals. She could smell her flesh burning. Why had she been so stupid? She could have just ignored Alvarez's return – a man as depraved and sadistic as him was obviously not someone to mess with.
It was almost three hours later when Alvarez decided she'd had enough. The electricity had poured through her genitals so often the metal pole thrust deep inside her and the clamp biting through her clitoris had become red hot adding to her suffering. The end of the bar had stretched her cervix open and was now embedded in her womb. The ridges and sharp edges on the bar had torn and lacerated her vaginal walls, and there was a significant pool of blood on the floor under her chair. Her breasts were dotted with livid burns from Alvarez's cigarette that he'd used on them between the shocks, the nipples swollen and red.
Susanna was barely conscious, although Alvarez had made sure she never had the mercy of passing out. Snot and drool dribbled from her mouth and nose, her eyes were red from crying, her whole body glistening with sweat, her long black hair plastered to her head and across her shoulders.
The Inspector took a pair of clippers from his pocket and used them to cut through the zip ties that were binding her to the chair. He grasped her hair and pulled her up, the electric clamps on her clitoris and the metal rod tearing free, and dropped her onto the floor. Susanna lay motionless as he fetched a bucket of freezing water and emptied it over her head. She gasped as the shock of the cold brought her round and she rolled on to her back screaming as the iron bar still buried deep inside her dragged across the floor.
She reached between her legs and grasped the bar, trying to pull it out but the pain made her scream again and stop. The Inspector laughed.
"The whore's trying to get it further up her cunt. You're a filthy slut, aren't you? Let me help you."
He kicked the end of the bar and Susanna screamed again as it was forced harder into her womb, the ridges scraping across her sensitive vaginal walls. He stepped forward and slammed his foot onto her pubis, grinding his heel so that her clitoris was crushed against the hard metal inside her. He stamped three more times, Susanna screaming constantly, trying to grasp his ankle and stop him.
Alvarez lit a cigarette as he watched the Inspector abuse her. He took a long drag, and blew the smoke out. "Get the bitch on her knees," he instructed.
The Inspector grasped the end of the bar, which was still very warm to the touch, and wrenched it out of her vagina. Susanna screamed even louder, and blood splattered over the insides of her thighs as it was pulled free. She curled into a ball, hands between her legs, sobbing, as the Inspector dropped the bar with a clang onto the concrete floor. He grabbed her hair, and pulled her to her knees, holding her upright.
Alvarez walked in front of her. Susanna watched, her vision blurred by tears, as he undid his trousers and took his cock out. It was hard and oozing pre-cum.
"OK, Miss Martinez, you know what to do. And this better be the best blowjob I've ever had or you're straight back in the chair with the metal bar up your cunt and we won't be finished with you for days. Do you understand?"
Susanna just stared at him. The Inspector let go of her hair and whacked her round the back of the head. "Answer when you're spoken to, cunt," he spat.
Susanna stared at his cock. There was nothing she could do. The only alternative was to have them put her back in the chair and send the electricity blasting into her insides.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Louder," said the Inspector.
"YES!" she said, trying to be as defiant as she could.
"Good," said Alvarez. "Get on with it."
She leant forward, parted her lips, and took the head of his cock in. Alvarez smiled. He groaned as her mouth closed around him and he felt the warm wet softness. Her tongue flicked around the tip as she bobbed her head backwards and forwards. It wasn't the best blowjob he'd ever had, but he was so worked up after watching her beg and plead and scream it was heaven. He placed his finger against his stomach.
"I want your nose touching here, Miss Martinez."
Susanna closed her eyes. She knew he wanted to deep throat her, as men always did, especially the type of men that enjoyed raping and torturing helpless women. She knew she had no choice, he would just force her, or put her back in the chair. So she pushed forward, feeling the tip press against the back of her throat making her gag. It took her a couple of go's, but eventually she managed to get it into her throat and her nose touched his hairy stomach. It was repulsive, and every instinct told her to bite down, but she knew it would be pointless and that she'd just be back in the chair with current flowing through her genitals.
Alvarez savored the feeling. He grabbed her hair and held her face against his body, his cock lodged in her throat preventing her from breathing. He could feel her muscles spasming as she desperately tried to get air into her lungs. She put her hands against his thighs and tried to push herself back but he was much stronger. Eventually he dragged her head back by the hair and she gasped through her open mouth, bile spilling down her chin.
Using her hair to control the movement of her head he slowly pulled her towards him so his cock slid back into her throat. Once more her nose was pressed to his stomach and she couldn't breathe. He repeated the process again and again, sometimes stabbing at the back of her mouth so she made glugging noises, other times sliding all the way down her throat. Susanna tried to use her tongue, in a desperate attempt to make him come as quickly as possible.
Eventually he started speeding up. "That's good, Miss Martinez, I'm going to come in your throat," he gasped as he held her tight and with a groan his cock pumped semen into her mouth. She had no choice but to swallow. He released her, and Susanna leant forward coughing up sperm and bile which ran down her chin onto the floor. She only had a moment's respite before the Inspector grabbed her hair and yanked her head back before plunging straight down her throat.
Where Alvarez had controlled himself and made the forced blow job last as long as possible, and therefore as unpleasant as possible, the Inspector just hammered away until he very quickly came. He pulled out of her mouth and shot spurt after spurt over her face and hair. He released her and Susanna slumped to the floor, warm sperm sliding down her cheeks.
The two men did their trousers up, and Susanna heard footsteps approaching.
"Get up, whore," said the Inspector, grabbing her hair and pulling her to her knees again. Susanna knelt miserably, sperm still tricking down her face and dripping onto her breasts.
"Hello again, gorgeous," said a familiar voice, and Susanna looked up to see the two men who had kidnapped and assaulted her standing in front of her. She was beyond reacting, every bit of her aching. "I told you I'd be seeing you again."
Without warning one of them lifted his leg and slammed the sole of his shoe into her chest between her breasts sending her flying backwards onto her back. Stepping forward he kicked at her ankles as he started to undo his trousers. "‘Spread your fucking legs, whore."
Susanna slowly parted her legs. There was no point resisting. His trousers dropped to his ankles. "Fuck, her cunt looks pretty messed up," he said to the other two men. Alvarez was smoking a cigarette and didn't reply. "Don't worry about it, at least she's still warm," said the Inspector.
He dropped to his knees between her thighs, and lifted her legs onto his shoulders. Susanna started crying. "Please don't," she begged. She knew he was going to penetrate her very deeply, and that it was going to be very painful.
He smiled cruelly, and entered her with one thrust. The pain was unbearable and she screamed loudly. His dick smashed into her damaged cervix and she screamed even louder. He started thrusting violently.
"Oh yes, you feel good, I've been really looking forward to this." Susanna's legs were pressed against her shoulders, her back scraping against the concrete floor. Every thrust hit her cervix sending pain stabbing through her abdomen. He grasped her throat with one hand, cutting off her air as he spat in her face.
"Your cunt's tight. You filthy whore, this is what you deserve, you piece of shit." He released her throat and slapped her face hard, then squeezed and twisted her breasts as his thrusts got faster and faster.
"Oh, yes, you cunt, you bitch, yes that's good you piece of shit whore, oh fuck….." and then he spurted deep inside her. Eventually his thrusts slowed, and he spat in her face again before pulling out. Her legs fell to the floor, and she lay sobbing as she felt fluid oozing from inside her. He stood up, and pulled his trousers up his legs.
"Next time I'm going up your arse, whore."
The second kidnapper took his place between her legs and also raped her. It wasn't as painful as the first time but was still awful. He came quickly.
The Inspector and first kidnapper grabbed an arm each and pulled her to her feet. They dragged her over to the chair that Alvarez had been sitting in earlier and dropped her into it. Susanna sat miserably, tears trickling down her cheeks. She wiped some sperm that was running down her chin. She could feel it drying on her breasts, and she was very wet between her legs – she realized what a pathetic situation it was as she was hoping it was just sperm and not blood.
Alvarez walked over to her. "So, Miss Martinez, are you sure you've told me the truth? Have you told anyone else about me?"
Susanna's head shot up and she stared wildly at him. She could feel the metal rod being forced up her vagina, the electricity tearing into her insides. "Please no more, yes I've told you the truth, I didn't tell anyone else about you, please believe me I'm begging you don't hurt me anymore I didn't tell anyone." She was starting to hyperventilate with fear.
"OK, Miss Martinez, I believe you. I'm sorry we can't spend more time together. We had such good times in the past, didn't we?"
Susanna couldn't think of anything to say in reply. He was talking like he was an ex-boyfriend rather than a madman who had raped and tortured her to the edge of madness. He reached out and stroked her hair gently. She flinched but didn't pull away.
"Please let me go," she said. He smiled. On the other side of the room a door opened, and a man walked over to them. He saluted Alvarez. "Hello, Captain."
Alvarez saluted back. "Hello Corporal."
The Corporal looked at Susanna. She was hunched over in the seat, trying to hide her nakedness although it was pointless. Somehow she felt she had to do it.
"I don't suppose you remember Corporal Mendoza, do you"' said Alvarez. Susanna looked at him but had no idea who he was.
The Corporal smiled at her. "What sort of whore doesn't remember a man who's been balls deep in her numerous times?" So he was probably one of the many animals who had abused her with Alvarez 11 years ago.
"I'm sure she'll still put out for you. Don't worry, Miss Martinez. The Corporal definitely remembers you, don't you?" said Alvarez.
"Yes, I certainly do," he replied. He bent down and grabbed her hair, forcing her head back. With his other hand he grasped her left breast and squeezed and twisted it until she screamed.
"I remember you very well. I remember you and lots of other whores giving evidence that put me in jail for a long time. I lost everything. My family, my job, my freedom. I spent 8 years locked in a small cell for 20 hours a day. And do you know how I managed to get through that?" He leaned close to her so she could feel his warm breath in her ear, and whispered. "‘I thought about all the things I'd done to you. All the times I'd raped you, and stuck an electric prod up your cunt, and beat you with canes, and hung you from the ceiling, and burned your tits. And I thought about doing them to you again when we next met."
He released her and stood up. "And now here we are, cunt. I'm going to take you far away, to a place nobody will think to look for you. I'm going to make you scream – a lot. I'm going to make you beg me to fuck you. And I'm going to ask you all about those other whores that testified against me – where I can find them. And you're going to tell me. I think that might involve a lot more screaming."
Susanna stared at him, unable to fully take in the implications of what he was saying.
"Get her ready to travel," the Corporal ordered. She watched in horror as the Inspector and Kidnapper walked towards her. "No, you can't do this, somebody will miss me. Please just let me go. I swear I won't tell anyone. Please!"
"Don't you want to fuck her first?" asked Alvarez.
The Corporal shook his head. "No, I can wait until she's begging me. I've waited a long time, so a bit longer won't hurt."
The Inspector pulled her to her feet, and her wrists were forced behind her back and secured with zip-ties. Another one was passed around her elbows and pulled tight until they were touching. The pain in her shoulders made her cry out.
"Please, I'm begging you, please don't, please let me go I swear I won't tell anyone!"
Her hair was grabbed and her head pulled roughly backwards. The pain made her open her mouth to yell and the Inspector stuffed a foul tasting cloth in. It was large, and it took him some time to force all of it in, her cheeks bulging around it. Tape was then wrapped tightly around her head ensuring it was held securely in place. She was dragged across the room to a metal box that was sitting with its lid open.
The two men lifted her easily and dropped her into the box so she was lying on her back, her arms trapped painfully beneath her. The box was just long enough to fit her body in, so the top of her head was pressed against one end and her buttocks against the other. Her legs were pointing straight up, and each man grabbed one and forced them back until her knees were pressed to her shoulders and her legs were bent so her feet were pressed against her upper thighs. More zip-ties were used to fasten her ankles to hooks on the side walls of the box. When they were finished she was lying in an incredibly uncomfortable position. Her arms were already hurting as all her weight was on them, and having her legs folded up and held tightly against her chest made breathing difficult, especially with her mouth gagged so tightly.
The men gathered round, all five of them, and Susanna watched in horror as they opened their flies, took their cocks out, and started pissing into the box. The urine splashed over her face and hair, and soaked her body. She tried to turn her head away but they laughed as they followed her face with the streams so that she couldn't breathe as the warm acrid liquid filled her nose. When the last one had finally stopped she could tell she was lying in a shallow layer of warm piss.
They put their cocks away, and Alvarez leant over the box and spoke to her. "Goodbye Miss Martinez. I'm going back to my comfy life, and I think I'll fuck my gorgeous wife while I think about you screaming and begging with that iron pipe up your cunt. Your life from now on is going to be nothing but suffering – I'm sorry I won't be able to join in but I have a reputation to preserve." He finished by spitting in her face.
The Corporal appeared holding a small box."‘OK, cunt, you're going on a journey to your new home. It's going to be a long journey so I've brought you some friends to keep you company." He took the lid off the box and tipped it up. About a dozen large black cockroaches dropped onto her body. Susanna screamed into the gag and tried to move but was held tight. She could feel the tickling of their feet as they scurried around in panic.
The Corporal was grinning evilly. "I think they like warm dark places to hide. And your cunt looks very inviting." As if on cue she felt two of them crawl through her pubic hair. The lid of the box closed leaving her in total darkness. The box was lifted and carried, causing the urine in the bottom to slosh around. The cockroaches went mad trying to avoid drowning, clinging to her hair and running over her face. The smell in the box was already putrid and over the next few hours Susanna would add her own excretions to the foul liquid. It was a very unpleasant journey.
Susanna was suspended from the ceiling. She was tied in a spread eagle position, shaped like an X, her arms spread out and secured to chains hanging from the roof, her legs also spread and secured to rings in the floor. Her mouth was stuffed with a cloth secured with tape, the same way she'd been gagged during the journey in the hellish box. The room was freezing cold, the breath from her nose visible as it condensed. Her nipples were hard, each one squeezed painfully by a clamp that had been tightened brutally. She'd been hanging like this for nearly two hours and her whole body was in pain – her arms, shoulders, the muscles of her chest. Every breath hurt, sending stabbing pain around her ribs.
After the hell of the box – the cockroaches had liked warm dark places and the horror of them wriggling around inside her vagina had almost driven her mad - they'd dragged her into this building. She had no idea where she was, the journey had taken a long time but she had no way of measuring it. She could be in a completely different country. And then she was hung in her current position.
The door opened and five men came in, including Mendoza. He walked up to her, the others stood around watching her. "Hello, whore. I hope you're comfortable." The men laughed. He walked around so he was behind her, and draped one arm over her shoulder. The other arm wrapped round her waist, and then he climbed onto her back. At first Susanna couldn't work out what he was doing. He hooked his legs over her spread thighs and hugged her tightly. The pain as she was forced to support his almost 18 stone weight with her arms was unbearable. She felt like her arms were being pulled from the shoulders, her wrists and elbows torn apart.
The men standing around laughed at the image – the two of them appeared to be some kind of grotesque insect with four legs and arms. The Corporal's mouth was close to her ear, his breath warm against it. He reached down with his left hand and played with her nipples, the movement sending stabbing pains through the crushed flesh as he squeezed the clamps. His other hand snaked down her stomach and through her pubic hair. His fingers slid between her legs, parting her labia, stroking gently backwards and forwards, pushing into her vagina.
"So now, cunt, we're going to find out about all those other whores who testified against me. You're going to tell me all about them, where they live, how to find them, every little detail."
Susanna could barely think with the pain stabbing through her arms. She was sure her shoulders were being dislocated. She didn't know anything about the other women, there was nothing she could tell him. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and Mendoza licked at them, his tongue warm and wet against her cheek. He pushed his tongue into ear, leaving a trail of saliva, while his fingers wriggled deeper inside her. He was talking just above a whisper.
"I know you're going to say you don't know, but don't you worry your pretty head about that. I'm going to help you remember. You'll be surprised how much you can remember with the right encouragement."
To emphasize his point he bounced up and down, the weight pulling against her arms making her scream into the gag.
"So let's get started," he whispered, pulling his fingers from vagina and rubbing them across her nose. She could smell herself. It was disgusting and made her heave.
The Corporal showed her another photograph. A blonde woman, attractive of course. Every picture he'd shown her had featured an attractive woman. There were cuttings from newspapers and prints of video grabs from news programs. Susanna recognized most of them as they had participated in the trial of the monsters who had abused her all those years ago. Some of them were victims, but some of them were lawyers who had represented the victims, or reporters who had been filming for documentaries or news reports.
Susanna was lying on a bench. Her arms were fastened to the sides of the bench, and her legs were spread and similarly attached. A leather strap crossed her chest, above her breasts, preventing her from sitting up.
Mendoza tapped her on the nose with the picture. "This is Julia Kristenson. She's Swedish. I'm particularly interested in her as she made a very damning documentary about me. She interviewed my wife. Where can I find her?"
"I don't know her. I didn't even meet her then. Please you must believe me. I don't know any of these people."
"Don't keep lying to me, cunt. If you tell me where she is it will be her in your place. I'm sure you'd like that wouldn't you?"
Susanna would like nothing more, but although she recognized the women in the pictures she'd barely spoken to any of them at the time and certainly had no idea where any of them were now. If she had she would have gladly told him to end her suffering.
The Corporal sighed. "Again," he said to the men standing around her.
The man wearing rubber gloves stepped forward. He covered her face with the wet towel he was holding and pressed his hands down so they were on the bench either side of her head. The towel was drawn tightly across her face so that the outline of her nose and lips could be seen. A second man stepped forward and started pouring a jug of water slowly onto the towel, moving the stream up and down so it covered both her nose and mouth. Susanna thrashed against her bonds but they held tight. She tried to turn her head away from the cold water but the towel was held so tightly against her face it was impossible to move. Water filled her nose and mouth as she tried to draw in enough air to breathe.
And then the electrodes between her legs came alive. One inserted deep in her vagina and one on her clitoris. It bit ruthlessly into the sensitive flesh anyway but when the electricity started the pain was beyond endurance. She howled into the towel as the current flowed around her genitals, every nerve burning, every muscle clenching, pain stabbing up into her abdomen as if her vagina was being torn open by serrated knives. She couldn't get any air to breathe as the electricity continued to tear at her most sensitive areas. When she was about to pass out the towel was torn away and she could at last get some precious breaths, but the current was still fizzing away making her scream desperately. She could smell her flesh burning. Her world was an unendurable hell of suffering.
The current stopped and Susanna lay on the bench choking and sobbing, her whole body twitching with the after effects. Her fingers clawed helplessly at the bench. Her hair was soaking, her nipples hard and her skin shone with a covering of sweat. The electrodes attached to her genitals felt red hot.
"Please no more' she begged pathetically. "I'll do anything you want, anything, please don't hurt me anymore I'm begging you."
The Corporal held up the same picture of Julia Kristensen. "I want this whore in here. I want her screaming as we tear her cunt apart."
He held up another picture he'd shown Susanna earlier. The woman featured was a brunette wearing a smart business suit. She couldn't remember the name Mendoza had used, but she did remember that the woman was a lawyer.
"And this cunt is going to beg for mercy as I shove every disgusting thing I can find so far up her pussy she's going to taste them. Where can I find her?"
"I don't know her. I've never even spoken to her. Please you must believe me."
"You expect me to believe that you never spoke to a lawyer representing you? Of course you fucking did, you lying cunt," he yelled.
"No, no, I just gave evidence when I was asked. It was nothing to do with me. Please believe me. I don't know any of these people."
The Corporal nodded. "No, no, no, please"' begged Susanna as the man with the rubber gloves moved forward. She thrashed and pulled against the bonds securing her to the bench, but nothing moved. Her head whipped desperately from side to side, but it was futile and nothing could stop the wet towel being pressed tightly against her face. The water was poured and she spluttered and coughed as it filled her nose and mouth, and then her hips were thrust upwards as the electricity poured through the electrodes sending indescribable pain through her vagina and clitoris. Every muscle was tensed and stretched as she screamed into the sodden towel.
When it was over she slumped into the table, coughing and spitting water as she gasped for breath. Her whole groin area felt like it was on fire, her vagina clenching uncontrollably with the after effects of the electricity.
One of the men approached her and lashed a thin wooden cane across her breasts. She screamed in pain, water flying from her mouth as she yelled. "Oh God pleas,"' she begged but the only response was the cane slashing into her breasts again, tearing at her nipples. "Let me die," she prayed as the man with the rubber gloves approached once more. The cane continued to lacerate her breasts from nipple to nipple as the cold water soaked the towel and she gasped for air. The electricity was on again and Susanna couldn't believe that her suffering could actually get worse.
She wasn't sure if she had actually passed out, but she became aware of one of the men slapping her face. She coughed and water spewed from her mouth. She was still strapped to the bench, her groin on fire, her breasts throbbing from the multiple cane strokes nipples bleeding where it had torn into them. As full consciousness returned and the realization that she was still secured for further torture she started to cry.
The Corporal grasped her chin and turned her head to face him. Her hair was dripping water, eyes red from crying. He held the picture of Julia Kristensen up.
"Now, you lying whore, let's talk about this cunt again. Where can I find her?"
"NOOOOOOOO…" Susanna screamed as the man with the rubber gloves and the towel moved towards her.
Susanna was slumped in a chair. Every part of her body was aching. She felt sperm trickling down her cheek and was too tired to do anything about it. Her hair was matted with sperm. She'd been kept on the table for hours – it could have been days, she had no idea. She only knew that the pain was unbearable and she screamed and begged and pleaded as they repeatedly water-boarded her, fried her genitals with electricity, beat her with a cane and stubbed cigarettes out all over her body. Mendoza kept showing her the pictures of the women he was interested in, yelling obscenities at her, refusing to believe she didn't know anything about them.
She'd told them everything she knew of course, although that was nothing. She'd tried to recall anything she might have heard, or seen, and even tried to make things up, anything at all to try and end the pain. Mendoza was never satisfied, and just continued her torture trying to force every bit of information from her. Sometimes they would just ask her about her sex life, making her say every perverted thing they could think up, which of course she eagerly did for the luxury of a moment's respite. Susanna realized there were few more humiliating experiences than being forced to describe how she lost her virginity while half a dozen laughing men jeered and mocked her, making her writhe and scream and beg as they sent wave after wave of agonizing, burning electricity into "her filthy whore's cunt."
Once they'd had enough fun torturing her she was released from the bench and Corporal Mendoza had lived up to his promise and made her beg him to fuck her. She'd done it willingly of course, anything to avoid being put back onto the bench. For the next few hours she'd crawled from man to man begging to fuck and suck each of them. Extensive use of a cattle prod made sure she was convincing. Each of them had made her perform like a whore – French kissing them like she would a boyfriend, doing all the work, taking their cocks down her throat, begging them to come on her face, sucking them until they were hard again then putting their cocks into her vagina and talking dirty to them until they came again. Of course they wanted to sodomize her as well. She wasn't sure how many men there were, maybe six or seven, but they each used her so many times it could have been hundreds. They slapped her, kicked her, pissed on her, made her shove things up her vagina.
Eventually she was dumped into the chair and left. She was so exhausted she could hardly move. Her vagina was constantly trickling blood and it dripped slowly from the chair onto the concrete floor. Mendoza pulled up a chair and set in front of her.
"Look at me, whore" he said. She didn't respond.
He leaned forward and grabbed her hair, shaking her head violently. "FUCKING LOOK AT ME, YOU CUNT!" he screamed into her face. Susanna did respond this time, staring wildly at him, even more tears spilling from her eyes. She didn't know how she could still cry.
Mendoza sat back. He held up the picture of Julia Kristenson. Just that act sent panic racing through her body. Julia was smiling at the camera, perfectly dressed, makeup subtle but attractive. She had long blonde hair that was blowing in the breeze.
"You are one very brave lady, Susanna. Not many people would have lasted this long. Most cunts would have sold their own daughters by now. I admire you."
Susanna shook her head. "No, no, I'm not brave, please, I just don't know anything, I don't know her, I'd give her to you if I did, really, please, please no more, please."
"I don't understand why you're still protecting her." Mendoza was talking quietly and in a very ordinary way, like he was discussing a job interview. "You will tell me eventually. At some point you will have had enough of all the pain and abuse and you'll tell me everything. You know we can keep this up for a very long time."
"‘Pleeeeease," pleaded Susanna. "Please no more, I really don't know anything."
"You're very convincing, Susanna. But you don't fool me. You're going to tell me everything. And this cunt is going to be here and I'm going to make you watch while I do things to her you can't even imagine in your worst nightmares."
He sat back and two of the men came forward. Susanna shrank back in her chair. "No, no, no," she kept repeating. They grabbed an arm each and dragged her across the room. She tried to resist but it was impossible. They ended up in front of an object that appeared to be a random collection of metal bars welded together. But as they fastened her to it, it became clear the bars were not arranged randomly but positioned to hold a woman in a very particular position. Once they were finished, she was hanging from one of the bars that passed behind her back with her arms hooked over it so all her weight was supported by the underarms. Her hands had then been pulled forward so her elbows were bent at 90 degrees and her forearms were pointing out in front of her. Her legs were spread wide apart, so they almost made a 180 degree angle, and hooked over bars that pointed up to the ceiling. Her knees were bent at 90 degrees over more bars, so her lower legs were pointing to the floor, ankles secured to lower bars.
Leather straps secured her tightly so movement was impossible. All the bars were triangular in shape, so at every point of contact they dug painfully into her flesh, particularly her underarms which were supporting most of her weight. Susanna reflected on what sort of men would take the time to construct such an awful device, designed to hold a woman in the most humiliating position possible, legs spread so wide that her genitals gaped open.
The man wearing the rubber gloves approached her, but this time he wasn't carrying a wet towel but a large glass jar filled with a red paste. Standing in front of her, he scooped a dollop of the paste onto his fingers, and started spreading it over her gaping genitals. He worked methodically, sliding his fingers backwards and forwards through her slit, often returning to the jar to scoop up more paste, making sure every bit from her clitoris to her anus was thoroughly coated. He pushed his fingers deep into her vagina and rectum, working as much of the paste inside her body as he could.
It wasn't long before Susanna started to feel the burning. "That will get your whore's cunt nice and hot," he smiled at her. The whole area between her legs was already swollen and painful from the many rapes and other abuses she'd been subjected to. The paste found every little scratch and scrape and soon Susanna was jerking on the bars, begging them to stop it as her crotch exploded into white hot pain.
Mendoza grabbed her sweat soaked hair and once again started showing her the pictures of the women. Sweat was pouring down her face and body, and she screamed and begged and pleaded as Mendoza just kept holding up picture after picture in front of her face.
Once the burning of the paste started to ease, they began using the needles. About two inches long, each one was dipped into the burning paste first – as if they needed to make it any more painful. They started with her breasts, maybe thirty in each one, especially concentrated around her nipples. Many were used in the nipples themselves, pushed straight down into the sensitive tips, or piercing them from side to side. Later they would use the cane on her breasts to drive them even deeper and cause untold agony as the sharp tips were moved around inside the delicate flesh.
Many needles were hammered under her once perfectly manicured finger and toenails. And of course they used them extensively between her obscenely spread legs. In the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, her pussy lips, her clitoris, the puckered ring of her anus. A large speculum was thrust up her vagina and opened to its maximum width, tearing her insides as it did so. Blood dripped from her spread vulva as numerous needles were inserted inside her, piercing her G-spot, the fleshy walls of her vagina, her cervix. A small blowtorch was use to heat the needles so the metal turned red and her flesh sizzled from the inside. A rubber hose was used to beat her between the thighs driving the agonizing points of the needles even deeper.
Susanna screamed and begged, promising anything to end the pain, any dirty thing they wanted, knowing it was pointless as they could just take whatever they wanted anyway. But she had to try and do something to end the pain and she couldn't do it by answering any of the questions Mendoza kept shouting at her.
Mendoza puffed on a cigarette and blew the smoke out. The man he was sitting with, one of the original kidnappers, was also smoking. Across the room Susanna Martinez was on her knees, hands tied behind her back, jeering men standing around her as one of them thrust his cock brutally into her throat. She was retching with every stroke, drool and spit dripping from her chin.
"How does that taste, cunt?" the man gasped. "Can you taste your own shit? Clean your filth off my cock, you whore."
Mendoza shrugged. "I don't know, I reckon we could get a couple of months out of her if we're careful and give her plenty of recovery time."
Mendoza snorted. "She doesn't know anything. I doubt she did talk to any of them even at the time."
Mendoza smiled at him. "It's one thing to hear a woman screaming in pain, but there's nothing like the sensation of torturing a woman who thinks she might be able to end it by telling you something. The hope that this gives makes her suffering so such more pleasurable."
"Intellectually, of course. But when she's got an electrode in her cunt causing her more pain than she ever imagined existed, other things take over from the intellect. Pain, desperation, it makes her want to believe in anything that might make it stop. It's the look in her eyes that's so exciting – the only thing she wants in the world is to make you happy so you'll end her suffering."
Mendoza took another drag on his cigarette. "I don't expect anyone who wasn't around in the good old days would truly appreciate the feeling of power. You could have any woman you wanted, you just had to make up something and she would be brought in for questioning. And then she would beg and plead as you did anything you wanted to her."
They sat quietly for a while. Across the room Susanna was bent over a table as she was sodomized.
Mendoza shrugged. "I know how a man who will be interested in her. His clients aren't too fussy about the state of the cunts, but they will be very keen on Miss Martinez. She's quite a catch."
They descended into silence again as Mendoza finished his cigarette. He dropped it to the ground and trod it under his foot. "Feeling horny?" he asked. The man nodded. "Of course," he replied.
They both stood up and Mendoza called to the men across the room. "Bring the cunt over here."
One of them grabbed Susanna by the hair and pulled her off the table. With her arms still tied behind her back she was unable to break her fall and landed painfully on her side. She screamed as he dragged her across the room by her hair, her already aching body scraping across the rough concrete. When they reached Mendoza she was pulled to her knees in front of him.
Mendoza examined her. Her whole body was covered in scrapes, cuts, burns, cane marks, but her face was hardly touched – just a few scrapes. Her hair was wet and matted. Drying sperm decorated her cheeks and forehead. Sperm and blood trickled from her vagina and dripped to the floor between her knees. She was a stunningly beautiful woman.
"My colleague here is looking for a bit of comfort. You're going to give him the best blowjob he's ever had, the sort you'd give your boyfriend to show him how much you love him. I know you're going to make it really good because you know what will happen to you if you don't. Right, Susanna?"
She stared at him. One of the men slapped her hard. "Answer when you're spoken to, cunt."
Susanna swallowed. She knew there was absolutely no point resisting or refusing. They would just make her do whatever they wanted anyway after hurting her even more.
"I would really love to suck your dick. Please get it out. I'll make it really good for you."
The man laughed and took his cock out of his trousers. Susanna opened her mouth and took it in. He groaned, her mouth was warm and wet.
"That's it, whore, use your tongue. Look at me."
She looked up at him. He was grinning obscenely. "Keep your fucking eyes open, cunt. I want to see the love in them."
Susanna did everything she could to make him cum as quickly as possible and get it over with. With her hands tied behind her back she could only use her mouth. She licked and bobbed her head, retching as he pushed further into her throat, drool spilling down her chin and onto her breasts, all the time looking up at him with her eyes wide open.
It didn't take long. The warmth of her mouth, the flicking of her tongue, the tightness of her throat, her gorgeous eyes staring up at him, he was soon groaning and spurting into her mouth. Susanna swallowed as she knew she was expected to. The men standing around were laughing and jeering at her. "I guess you'll be getting married soon," joked one. "No way, who'd want to marry a slut that's had so many cocks up her?" replied the man who had just emptied his balls into her throat.
Mendoza moved to stand in front of her. His hands were behind his back.
"So, whore, rest time is over. It's back to work." He brought his left hand forward – it was holding the picture of Julia Kristenson.
"Are you going to tell me where I can find this Swedish cunt? Or are you going to enjoy a visit to the dentist?" He moved his right arm forward.
Susanna started shaking and crying as she looked at the small drill he was holding in his right hand.