Bring Out the GIMP (Girls in Merciless Peril)


By Osouk

With artwork by Quoom

The room was hot and stuffy. There was a strong smell of sweat and urine. Four men were standing around, sleeves rolled up, seemingly unconcerned about the heat or smell. The only sound was a girl sobbing. The reason she was sobbing was easy to see. She was hanging upside down, from a bar passed below her knees, her wrists tied to her ankles. The cords round her wrists were so tight her hands had gone blue, and she could no longer feel them. Her naked body was glistening with sweat, her long dark hair hanging down and brushing the floor.

She was a university student, 21 years old. She had been arrested with a group of other students handing out anti Government leaflets. This was not an uncommon occurrence, and usually those arrested were sufficiently scared by a night in the cells to stop them doing it again. Unfortunately for her she had been earning a bit of extra money by carrying out tasks assigned to her by a member of the revolution. These were very menial tasks, and she was doing it purely for the money rather than any political sympathies.

Once the police had realised this, they were determined to find out everything she knew. In the 48 hours since her arrest, she had been given no food, very little water, and not allowed to sleep. She had been suspended in this agonising position for the last three hours. Every muscle in her body screamed for relief, and her knees, which supported all her weight, felt as if red hot needles were being thrust into them. Any movement was agony.

But although her cramped position was causing her more pain then she had ever experienced, it was nothing compared to the pain she felt when the electric prod was pressed against her genitals, which it had been repeatedly over the last three hours.

The man holding the probe leant forward and pressed the tip to the puckered hole of her anus. The girl jerked and screamed as the current tore into her.

When he withdrew the probe she begged, "Please God, no more, please, please."

The senior officer, Sergeant Gonzalez, spoke. "God has abandoned you, whore. You just have us. So you better tell us everything."

"I've told you everything, please you must believe me, don't hurt me anymore."

The probe touched the swollen mouth of her vagina, and as she bucked and screamed he pushed it deep into her and held it there for long seconds before removing it. She drew in gasping breaths, difficult in her confined upside down position.

"Tell me again," said Gonzalez.

"I'm meeting her in the café by the central park, she’s French and called Sophie, please you must believe me."

"What’s her last name?"

"I don't know, please it’s the truth, I just have to meet her and hand over the package."

"So how will you recognise her?"

"She’s got dark hair, and will be wearing a blue dress and carrying a black bag. I have to ask her name, and if she says it’s Sophie and she’s from Paris, I hand it over. Please stop, please, I've told you everything."

The probe was pressed to her clitoris, and every muscle in her body spasmed in response to the electricity. The scream she made sounded barely human, and urine spurted from her due to the violent contractions.

When it stopped she was babbling, "Please stop, please no more, please I can't stand it, please."

"Where do you get the package from?"

"In a trash bin in the central park. I collect it half an hour before and go straight to the café. Please, that’s everything, please stop…." Her voice trailed off into heaving sobs, but turned to inhuman shrieks again as the probe once more touched her hyper sensitive clitoris.

"Oh God, please no more……'

"You better be telling me the truth," said Gonzalez. He spoke to one of the others. "Give her to the men, but make sure they don't hurt her too much. I might want to question her again."

He left the room.

"Come in," called Colonel Alvarez in reply to the knock on his door. The door opened, and Sergeant Gonzalez entered. He walked over to the desk, dropped a file onto it, and sat down.

"What’s this?" asked Alvarez, picking up the file and opening it. There were a number of bits of paper in it, but at the top was an A4 sized photograph. It was obviously a surveillance photograph, as it was not very good quality. It showed a young woman, very attractive with long dark hair. She was walking along a pavement, and was looking towards the camera.

She was dressed in blue jeans and a white blouse, and her hair was blowing in the breeze. Alvarez turned the photograph over to read what was on the other side, but he knew exactly who it was.

“Name: Sophie Duvall. DOB: 19th July 1977. Age: 31. Nationality: French. Occupation: Journalist.”

Sophie Duvall had been writing a lot of articles criticising the Government, accusing it of corruption and human rights abuses. These had been published in a number of international magazines and newspapers, and had been causing a lot of embarrassment. Some of the foreign Governments they dealt with were not happy having these reports made public, as it made them look bad. Although they were happy to deal with corrupt regimes, they didn't want it to be public knowledge.

If Sophie Duvall had been a National, she would have been dealt with by now. But as she was French it made it much more difficult. For one thing, she frequently left the country so keeping tabs on her movements was difficult. For another, arresting a French citizen would cause a lot of problems with the international community. So she had been able to get away with these reports for some time.

"I think we might have a way of getting hold of her," said Gonzalez.

Alvarez was interested. He put the file down on the desk. "Really? How?"

"We arrested some students who were handing out leaflets," continued Gonzalez. "Nothing significant. However, during questioning one of them told us she was due to meet a Frenchwoman called Sophie in a café tomorrow at three o'clock to hand over a package."

"And you think that’s Sophie Duvall?" asked Alvarez.

"Our student doesn't know her full name. But there can't be many Frenchwomen called Sophie who would pick up a package from someone they don't know in a café."

"Are you sure she’s telling the truth?"

"She’s been begging for mercy. She’s very keen that we believe everything she tells us, and has repeated the same story many times. I don't think she’s capable of lying to us now." Gonzalez smiled.

Alvarez smiled as well. He knew exactly what Gonzalez was talking about. "So why do you think the meeting will still go ahead? Surely someone will know we've arrested her?"

"Possibly, but it’s worth a go. She was due to go to the central park and collect a package from a trash can only half an hour before she was to meet the Frenchwoman in the café. So if she doesn't show to pick up the package, I think there’s a good chance the message won't get through in time to stop the meeting. We stake out the café and arrest Sophie Duvall."

Alvarez thought about this. It seemed to make sense. "OK, so the meeting goes ahead, but we can't just arrest a French citizen. There would be all sorts of trouble."

Gonzalez smiled. "I've got an idea about that as well. We dress our men all in black, with balaclavas. They kidnap everyone in the café. Sophie Duvall is brought here, but all the others are taken to one of our safe locations outside the city. We send ransom notes to their families, claiming to be terrorists and demanding ridiculous sums of money. The Government is outraged and will do everything in its power to help free these innocent victims of terrorism, particularly as there is a French national involved."

"The ransoms can't be paid, so the victims disappear including the French journalist. We look good in the international media, and Sophie Duvall can spend as much time with us as we want. I'm sure she has a lot of interesting information to tell us."

Alvarez thought carefully about the plan. There were obviously risks, but it could work. He opened the file again and looked at the picture of Sophie Duvall. She was certainly very beautiful. He'd first heard her name when they'd arrested a local journalist. After five days of rape and torture she'd been screaming like a baby, and told them everything she knew, including Sophie’s name. Others had been arrested following this and also named her. The thought of having her in one of the interrogation rooms downstairs, screaming and begging, was appealing. She would regret writing those articles, and give them a lot of names that could be neutralised.

He closed the file and handed it to Gonzalez. "OK, make the arrangements."

Gonzalez took the file and went to the door. As he opened it, he looked back. "I want to hear the French whore screaming."

Alvarez smiled. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for everyone."

Captain Alvarez was sitting in his car. It was parked across the road from the café. The windows were blacked out so that anyone passing could not see in. He had a pair of binoculars and a radio was sitting on the passenger seat next to him.

He picked up the radio and spoke into it. "Confirm when everyone is in place."

He looked through the binoculars. The café had some tables and chairs outside on the pavement, with a few people sitting at them with drinks. He looked up and down the street but could see nothing of interest.

The radio crackled and two separate people confirmed they were ready. Alvarez spoke into again. "When I give the command, go as quickly as possible."

He continued to look through the binoculars, and as the clock in the car clicked over to three, he saw Sophie Duvall. She was walking along the pavement on the same side as the café, towards Alvarez’s position. She was even more beautiful in real life, shoulder length black hair bobbing in the breeze as she walked. Her figure was perfect. She was wearing a pale blue dress which stopped just above her knees. On her feet were black high-heeled sandals. Over her shoulder was a black bag, and she had dark sunglasses on.

She was obviously nervous as she was constantly looking around her. She walked up to the café, and then sat down at one of the empty tables. Alvarez continued to watch as a pretty waitress came out and spoke to Sophie. The waitress was young, maybe nineteen, and was wearing a short black skirt with a pink crop top that exposed her flat, toned stomach.

As the waitress went back into the café, Alvarez picked up the radio and spoke into it. "Go!"

He looked back at the café, and within fifteen seconds 2 plain white vans raced down the road and screeched to a halt outside the café. Sophie Duvall looked up, but by the time she realised what was happening the doors had burst open and twenty men dressed all in black and wearing balaclavas leapt out of the back.

Sophie stood up and tried to run, but three of the men grabbed her, pulled her arms behind her back and handcuffed them. Her sunglasses were knocked off as they put a black hood over her head and tied it round her neck. She was struggling and kicking, but the men easily dragged her over to one of the vans, pushed her inside, then got in themselves and the van drove off.

Meanwhile the rest of the men were rounding up the other customers in the café. They were all handcuffed and hooded as Sophie had been, then taken to the other van. The cute young waitress was brought out, her head already covered with a black hood. As she was pushed into the back of the van, her skirt rode up to expose her pink panties. Alvarez wondered if she was still a virgin – she certainly wouldn't be by tonight. He was sure she was in for a very unpleasant time.

He put the binoculars down, and started the car. The whole operation had gone very smoothly. Now he had to get back and start Sophie Duvall’s interrogation. He knew she would be very co-operative – everybody was eventually.

Captain Alvarez and Sergeant Gonzalez walked into the interrogation room. There were several rooms, and each was slightly different. This one was not too large, with a desk and chair at one end, a cabinet against one wall, and a sink in the corner. It was brightly lit by powerful lights on the ceiling, and there were a number of large lights that were portable and could be moved around. There was no window.

But the thing that dominated the room was the large metal frame, bolted securely to the floor to make sure it couldn't be moved. This was positioned in front of the desk. At the moment, it was occupied by Sophie Duvall.

In fact, it wasn't possible to be sure that was who it was, as she still had the hood over her head, but as she still had her clothes on, Alvarez recognised the pale blue dress. She was spreadeagled in the frame, each wrist attached by straps to the top corners and each ankle attached to the bottom corners. The straps had been adjusted so that her feet were a couple of inches off the ground, and she was hanging by her arms.

Alvarez knew she had been here for three hours, and that by now her arms and shoulders would be very painful. She had been secured in the frame as soon as she had arrived here. This was to give her time to think about what was about to happen, and to make sure that she was already in some pain before her interrogation started.

He walked to the desk and put down the folder he was carrying, then he walked over to the frame, undid the cords holding the hood around her neck, and pulled it off her head. Sophie closed her eyes tightly against the bright lights. It had been hot in the hood, and her silky black hair was now plastered to her head with sweat. Some of it hung down in strands over her face.

It took almost a minute before she was able to open her eyes, and Alvarez waited until she was looking at him before he spoke.

"Welcome Miss Duvall. I'm Captain Alvarez of the Special Security Bureau, and this is Sergeant Gonzalez."

Sophie felt her blood run cold – the SSB. She knew exactly who they were, and had spoken to many people who had suffered in their torture cellars. But she was sure she was safe as she was a French citizen. This was just to scare her. Gonzalez sat down at the desk.

"How dare you treat me like this," she said. "I'm a French citizen, I demand to see the French ambassador."

Alvarez opened the folder he had put on the desk, and took out a piece of paper. "This is a statement issued by my Government an hour ago," he said. Then he read from the paper.

“The Government regrets to announce that this afternoon, at approximately fifteen hundred hours, terrorists raided a café in the capital and kidnapped all the customers. Among those people was the French journalist, Sophie Duvall. Ransom notes have been received for all those kidnapped. The French Government has stated that it will not deal with terrorists. Obviously we will do all we can to try and locate these people, and will co-operate with the French Government fully until this matter is resolved.”

He looked at Sophie. "It seems the French Government won't be coming to see you Miss Duvall."

"You bastards, you won't get away with this!" screamed Sophie.

Alvarez looked at Gonzales and smiled. "She thinks we won't get away with this." Gonzales smiled back. "The bitch is dead meat," he said.

Alvarez put the paper down, and picked up a magazine that was also in the folder. He held it up so Sophie could see the cover – it was an American glossy magazine that Sophie had had an article published in a few months ago.

Alvarez opened it, and read out the title of the article that Sophie had written – “Human rights abuses against Women”. "There’s quite a flattering picture of you in it," he said, and turned the magazine round so she could see the picture. She remembered it being taken, sitting in the editors office in New York. She was smiling, her hair slightly shorter than it was now. She looked happy, as she had been, and it was in stark contrast to her current position.

"Let me read something from your article," said Alvarez.

“Some of the tortures being reported are: needles driven under finger and toenails; breasts and genitals burned with lighted cigarettes; objects shoved up vaginas; relentless beating with wooden rods; forced ingestion of water, or other foul liquids, to bring a person close to drowning; electric shocks applied to the most sensitive parts of the body, especially the mouth, nipples, vagina and anus; and gang rape, including the use of dogs.”

"That really doesn't paint a very nice picture of us, does it?"

Sophie’s heart was racing. She was very scared, and couldn't think of anything to say or do. Alvarez put the magazine down, and walked towards Sophie. He looked deep into her eyes, and then up and down her body. Sophie gathered what saliva she could in her mouth and spat at him. Alvarez just smiled, and wiped it off his cheek.

"I imagine your arms are a bit uncomfortable by now. You've been here, what, about three hours? Well I can tell you now that you've got about another twelve to go before you'll be coming down. Think how much it’s going to be hurting by then?"

Sophie groaned. She couldn't imagine how much it would hurt by then, as it was already agony.

Alvarez spoke again. "You're going to tell me everything. Names, places, dates, everyone who’s helped you write these scandalous articles."

"Go to hell, I'll never tell you anything!" spat Sophie.

Alvarez smiled. "Very brave, and I'm sure you mean it. But you will tell me, everyone does. Let me explain what’s going to happen."

He reached out and undid the top button on Sophie’s dress. She tried to struggle but it was impossible to move in her strained position. "Get your hands off me!" she shouted.

Alvarez ignored her, and continued to slowly unbutton her dress while talking to her.

"I might ask you a question, such as what colour toothbrush do you use. You might think this is insignificant, so you'll just answer – let’s say blue for the sake of argument."

The third button was now undone.

"But I won't just take your first answer. I'm going to torture you and ask you again. So you'll repeat blue. And then I'll torture you some more. And so on."

The dress was now unbuttoned low enough to reveal her breasts, still cupped in her white bra.

"This might go on for a week. You'll be begging and pleading with me to believe that your toothbrush is blue, but I'll still be causing you more pain than you can imagine and telling you that until you tell the truth it will continue."

Sophie’s flat stomach was now exposed.

"The only thing you'll care about is convincing me that your toothbrush is blue. It will consume your world. You will do anything, anything at all, to make me believe you so that the pain will stop."

Her panties were now on display, brief and white, with a little lace around the waistband, stretched taught across her hips due to the spread of her legs.

"And eventually I will believe you, because I'll know you're not capable of lying to me under such severe pain. And you will be so relieved you'll cry with gratitude."

Alvarez undid the last button on her dress, and pushed the two sides back so they dangled down behind her legs completely exposing her front. He went to the desk and got a pair of scissors out of a drawer, then came back to stand in front of Sophie. He slid the blades under the right strap of her bra on her shoulder and cut it, then repeated it with the left strap. Finally he slid the blades between the cups, and cut.

Reaching out with his other hand, he grasped the bra and pulled it free. Her breasts were exposed, and were obviously a nice shape and size although they were flattened by her stretched position. Her nipples were dark, and quite large, standing erect with fear.

"So then I might let you rest for a day or so, just so you can get your strength back. And then you will be dragged into an interrogation room again, and you will be screaming and struggling and begging because you know what is going to happen."

He slid the scissors under the thin waistband of her panties where it crossed her right hip. He cut it, and moved the scissors to the other side.

"And I'll ask you what type of soap you use. And you'll scream out the answer, and beg and plead and try to convince me that it’s the truth. But you already know what’s going to happen. More torture, maybe another week, until I believe you."

He cut the panties again, and pulled them away from her body through her legs. Her pubic hair was jet black, and trimmed into a neat triangle, not shaved as was so often the case these days.

"Do you still think you'll never tell me anything? And we can keep you for as long as we want, so your future will be nothing but pain and suffering. The only point to your life will be to convince me that you're telling me the truth so I won't torture you any more."

Alvarez leant back against the desk, and studied her. Her body was now covered in a sheen of sweat, and it was obvious from her raised breathing rate that she was in pain from her strained position. Her toes, still clad in her black shoes, pointed to the ground as if she was trying to reach out and touch it.

He turned to Gonzalez. "What do you think of the bitch?" Gonzalez smiled, and looked her up and down. "Very nice. I'm looking forward to having her screaming while I fuck her."

"I expect you're wondering how we knew you were going to be at the café," Alvarez continued. ’Well, we arrested the girl who was going to meet you. She wasn't very co-operative at first, but eventually she was only too pleased to help us."

"You bastards!" spat Sophie.

Gonzalez spoke again. "She was crying like a baby by the end. These college girls are certainly good at sucking cock, though. She was only too happy to do that rather than have the cattle prod up her cunt."

Alvarez smiled. "But what happened to her was a luxury holiday compared to what you're going to suffer."

Alvarez walked over to her, and grabbing a handful of her hair, jerked her head back. Sophie opened her mouth to gasp at the pain in her scalp, and immediately her panties were thrust in, pushed to the back so she was almost gagging. Alvarez released her hair, and carefully folded her bra up before also thrusting that into her mouth. She tried to spit them out, but the material was pressed against her tongue, holding it down, and she couldn't move it.

He went to the desk and took a thin rope from the drawer, which he passed over her head and fastened tightly so that it held the cloth in her mouth. The rough rope pulled painfully at the corners of her mouth, and now she had to breathe through her nose.

Alvarez went back to the desk, and took a packet of cigarettes from the drawer. He took one out, lit it with a lighter, and returned to stand in front of Sophie. He blew smoke into her face and she blinked her eyes at the irritation. Holding the cigarette in one hand, he reached out with the other and started to stroke her left nipple. He squeezed it gently, pulled at it, rubbed at it, and felt it harden under his touch.

Sophie tried to move away from his touch, but was held firm. Her eyes widened in fear and he felt her breath quicken even more as she looked from his face, to the cigarette and back.

"‘We're going to start easily," he said. "‘I'm going to show you the merest hint of what lies in store for you."’ Her nipple was now very hard, standing out from her breast. He continued to stroke it gently, as Sophie felt sweat trickle down her face. He put the cigarette to his mouth and sucked until the tip glowed red, then looking directly at Sophie’s pleading eyes, moved it to her breast and touched it to the tip of her nipple.

There was a quick hiss as the sweat on her nipple evaporated under the heat, and then Sophie stiffened against her bonds and let out a whining noise from behind her gag. He made sure he ground the cigarette firmly into her nipple, but pulled it away before it was extinguished.

Sucking on it again to make it red hot, Sophie shook her head in panic as she watched him move it forward and touch the same nipple again.

"I've got some nice Cuban cigars, which are so much better for this. They burn really hot, and can be held in place for much longer before they go out."

He again warmed it up, then placed it back onto the same nipple.

"You'll be very used to these burns by the time we've finished with you, all over your breasts, stomach, armpits, insides of your thighs, between your legs. Such an easy thing to administer."

Sophie was gasping, making mewling noises. She watched in horror and he moved his free hand to her right breast and began to tease the nipple erect.

"Of course the great thing about women’s breasts is that anything you can do to one you can repeat with the other."

Five minutes later Sophie was sobbing with both her nipples burned. Alvarez dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out. He went to the cupboard by the wall, and came back holding a long thin cane. Standing just to the side of her, he raised it above his head and brought it whipping down across her breasts.

The pain would have been great anyway, but Alvarez’s aim was perfect and it landed directly across her burned and sensitive nipples. Sophie arched in her bonds and made a surprisingly load screech from behind her gag. The pain was unbelievable, it felt as if someone had thrust her breasts into molten lead. Alvarez waited until her breathing was more normal, before lashing her breasts again.

Six times in total the cane landed, and by the time Alvarez stopped her breasts were covered in bright red welts. Her nipples were red and swollen. He stood in front of her and slid the cane between her legs, rubbing it back and forth so that it parted her labia and the ridges scraped across her clitoris.

"You'll be feeling the cane down here quite a lot. Can you imagine how much that hurts? I don't think you can. We'll suspend you from the ceiling by your ankles, legs spread wide, and then give you stroke after stroke until you are so sore that a feather will make you scream, but then you realise we've only just started. I think you'll be begging quite a lot by then, but it won't mean anything to us."

Sophie’s breasts rose and fell as she gasped for breath through her nose. Tears trickled from the corner of her eyes, and she tried to speak, to say something, anything, but it was impossible through the gag of her underwear.

Alvarez had returned to the desk, and this time came backing holding a long thin needle and a cigarette lighter. He lit the lighter, and held the needle in its flame.

"So what are you thinking now, Miss Duvall?" he asked, not looking at her but concentrating on moving the needle back and forwards in the flame. "Do you think you won't be telling me everything I want? Maybe you already want to?"

Once the needle was fully heated up, he clicked the lighter off, and crouched down. Sophie strained to see what he was doing, as he took hold of her left foot, still wearing her high heeled sandals and firmly grasped her little toe. She struggled and pulled but his grip was tight, and then he slowly pushed the hot needle under the nail. She screamed into the gag as it slid deeper, the pain unbearable, feeling as if her whole foot was on fire. He continued to push until the almost the whole needle had been inserted.

Sophie was gasping and mewling as he stood up, and flicked the lighter on again to heat a second needle. "Of course, women only have 2 breasts, but they have ten toes and ten fingers." He smiled at her as he ran the needle through the flame.

Sophie shook her head in horror, her gaze drawn to the heating needle.

Alvarez continued. "There’s plenty of room under each nail for a number of needles, and then we can just pull the nails out. That is very painful, and we know how to make each nail last a long time before it finally pops free. But let’s save that for another day."

With that, he extinguished the lighter, grasped her left breast and slowly pushed the needle through her already hyper-sensitive nipple. The pain was beyond belief and Sophie struggled against her bonds, screaming, sweat flying from her soaking hair as she shook her head desperately.

"Just think what it’s like," Gonzalez said. "Being strapped down with those lovely legs spread apart while we insert needle after needle into your gaping cunt – especially your very sensitive clit."

Alvarez sat back against his desk. He watched as Sophie sobbed, her head hanging forward. After a minute or so, he got up and went over to the sink. He picked up a hose that was connected to the tap, and moved back to where Sophie was hanging. Standing behind her, he grasped her hair and pulled her head back violently so her neck was strained as she was forced to look up at the ceiling.

Raising the hose so that it was positioned above her, he pulled the lever so that water gushed out over her upturned face. The water was forced up her nose, and as she couldn't breathe through her mouth anyway because of the gag she was soon spluttering. He had the hose turned on for only five seconds but it was plenty of time to make her feel she was drowning. He released her hair and her head shot forward, water spurting from her nose as she coughed and spluttered trying to take in enough air. He left her for about a minute to recover, before he wrenched her head back by the hair again and repeated the process.

This time when he released her he took the hose back to the sink and replaced it, before once more sitting against his desk to study her. She was still gasping and choking. Her hair was now completely soaked, and water was running down her body and dripping to the floor. Her blue dress, which was still across her shoulders and pushed behind her, now clung to her back. The red stripes across her breasts stood out prominently, and her nipples were rock hard with the effect of the cold water, both with burns and one with the needle pierced through it.

Her choking had subsided, and he spoke to her. "It’s much more effective holding your head under water, I think the feeling of drowning over and over is very unpleasant. You'll be able to tell me exactly how unpleasant over the following weeks. Sometimes people's hearts stop, but we've become very good at reviving them so that we can carry on again. There are also some interesting tanks full of piss, shit and puke which are even better. I think you'll like those a lot."

"You'll be drinking my piss all the time," added Gonzalez. "And you better not spill a drop or you'll really be sorry."

Sophie tried to say something, but she could barely move her mouth. Not that she could have said anything anyway through the gag. The rope had now cut quite badly into the corners of her mouth, and each movement was painful as it scratched across the sensitive flesh. But that was minor compared to all of the other things.

Alvarez walked towards her, and grabbed her hair so he could force her to look at him. He stared into her beautiful green eyes, now wide and full of fear. He could already see the begging in them.

"So do you think you're going to answer my questions now? You've only been here a short time. You have weeks more to go. What do you think? Can you resist? Or are you going to tell me the names of everyone you know?"

He watched as tears trickled from the corners of her eyes. He smiled. He was sure she would break soon. But it wouldn't save her. She had caused them so much trouble that she was going to pay a heavy price. Long weeks of rape, humiliation and torture.

He went to the cupboard and came back holding a police truncheon. He held it up for Sophie to see. Her eyes widened even further, and she shook her head. Her breasts rose and fell as she breathed heavily and it was obvious she was crying, snot dribbling from her nose. Alvarez smiled.

"I wonder what the biggest thing you've had up your cunt is?" Sophie screamed into her gag, as Alvarez moved the truncheon between her legs. She pulled desperately at her bonds but nothing could prevent the inevitable. Alvarez carefully parted her labia, and positioned the truncheon at the entrance of her vagina.

Sophie screamed "No!" over and over as loud as she could into her gag, as he slowly eased the end upwards. She could feel her vagina stretch around the large intruder, the pain was immense, and then suddenly Alvarez thrust hard upwards.

Sophie let out the largest scream she'd made so far, as every muscle tensed. The truncheon ripped into her vagina, the sensitive flesh stretching and tearing as it was forced upwards. She screamed and yelled as Alvarez continued to ram it into her until the end thudded painfully against her cervix.

Gonzales was laughing. "Give it to the bitch," he spat.

Alvarez pulled it almost completely out, and then thrust it in again. This time there was less resistance and it slammed into her cervix more easily. He repeated this three times before pulling it out and holding it up for Sophie to see. It was smeared in blood, and although she couldn't tell, blood was dripping from between her legs onto the floor. The pain was so great she could barely focus, but when she saw her blood on the truncheon she started screaming and jerking again. Pain was still radiating up from between her legs.

"I bet that’s loosened you up a bit," Alvarez smiled. "You'll like it when it goes up your ass even more. Soon you'll be looking back on this moment with fondness as you realise just how small this truncheon actually is."

Alvarez moved back to his desk, and placed the truncheon on it. He picked up the magazine that contained the article that Sophie had written and stood in front of her. "Let’s review shall we?" he said.

When Sophie didn't look at him, he reached out and twisted the needle in her nipple. She shrieked and her eyes flew open. "Look at me bitch," he screamed, and her green eyes widened in fear and stared at him.

"So," he said looking at the magazine. "Let’s see."

He read from the magazine. "Needles driven through finger and toenails – we've tried that one. Breasts and genitals burned with cigarettes – done that as well. Objects shoved up vaginas – only one object but it’s a start. Relentless beating with wooden rods – hardly relentless, but those stripes look nice on your tits. Forced ingestion of water – the merest taste. Electric shocks applied to the most sensitive parts of the body – we'll get to that in a moment. And finally gang rape."

He put the magazine down, and moved close to Sophie’s face. Once again he grabbed her hair to hold her face close to his. She could feel his breath on her cheek, as he whispered into her ear.

"You probably think rape isn't too bad – like being fucked by your boyfriend but a bit rougher. But believe me, it’s not. You'll be raped by so many men you won't be able to count them. And they'll use every hole you have, over and over, and make you do the most disgusting things. Sometimes they'll just force you to do them, sometimes they'll hurt you until you beg to do them. Everything you can think of, and lots you can't, will be done to you again and again. And no matter how bad it is, it can always get worse."

"I'm looking forward to fucking you," Gonzalez said. Alvarez twisted her hair to force her to look at him. "You're going to beg to suck my cock and swallow. And then you'll thank me nicely before the next man gets a go at you. And our dogs need looking after too – I'm sure they'll like spunking into a French whore’s mouth."

Sophie was trembling and shaking, large tears running down her cheeks. The hopelessness of her situation was horrific. She was the prisoner of monsters whose only aim was to humiliate and abuse her.

Alvarez released her hair, and went to the cupboard again. When he came back he was carrying what looked like a stick. He held it up and yet again Sophie felt the pull on her hair as he grabbed it so he could force her to look at it. Her scalp was burning with the constant hair pulling she was enduring.

"Do you know what this is? It’s a cattle prod. It’s used to get cows to move, and is therefore designed for large animals with very thick skin. When used on pretty girls with soft skin, it causes the most intense pain. Consequently it’s become very popular with torturers the world over."

He held it higher so Sophie could clearly see the metal tips at the end. As he pressed the button a blue spark jumped between them, causing her to recoil. His grip on her hair tugged on her scalp, and he laughed. He was whispering into her ear again.

"And pretty girls have such sensitive places to use this on. I'm sure you can imagine. Places you really wouldn't want electricity zapping through."

Sophie’s crying was more desperate, she was making mewling noises through her gag trying to plead and beg with him. "Please don't, please don't!" He went to the sink and came back holding the hose. The ice cold water sprayed out and she could barely breathe from the shock. He moved it up and down soaking every inch of her body. When he turned it off water was dripping onto the floor. Her hair was now completely plastered to her head, strands across her face. She was openly sobbing, shaking her head pleadingly.

Alvarez held the prod up, and once again pressed the button so the spark jumped between the electrodes. "The water makes you nice and conductive," he smirked, then pressed the points of the prod to her navel and shocked her.

Sophie launched up against her bonds, feeling like she'd been kicked in the stomach. The prod only touched her for a couple of seconds, but it was beyond anything she could imagine. He shocked her again, and already her stomach muscles were aching with the convulsions they'd gone into. He touched it to her left armpit, then her right, then her lips. Her face felt like it had exploded, stars burst before her eyes and when he pulled it away she could barely breathe.

He waited while she calmed down, her breathing gradually becoming slower. He shook her head by her hair to make her open her eyes and look at him. "You thought you could come here and cause all this trouble and get away with it, you French whore?"

The prod touched her right nipple and she screamed into the gag as she felt the worst pain she had ever known. It was a thousand times worse than the cigarette that had burned her nipples. "Write those articles that give us such problems, and then scurry back home where we couldn't touch you."

Her left nipple now, and then the inside of her thigh. "Well, you're mine now, and you're going to suffer more than you can possibly imagine, you slut." He pressed the prod up between her legs. She could feel the cold metal tips nestling between her labia. He was looking straight into her beautiful green eyes, tear filled and begging, as he gently moved the prod until her clitoris was between the two electrodes.

"Just a little taste of what electricity can do," he whispered before he pressed the button. Sophie’s head jerked back, her black hair flying as every muscle in her body tensed. The electricity coursed through her clitoris, the most delicate part of her body, and she jerked rigid in her bonds. The noise she made was not recognisable as human. He held his finger on the button for fifteen seconds before sparing her the agony. She slumped in her bonds, snot poring from her nose, nipples rock hard as she gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head.

Alvarez waited patiently, slowly rubbing the prod through her labia, until the tip of it slipped into her vagina. Sophie’s eyes opened at the feel of the invasion, and she tried to pull away but it was useless. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried , but Alvarez slowly pushed the prod deeper until it was pressed firmly against her cervix.

"The prod is actually not that painful," he said. ’The really painful shocks come from being properly wired up. You can't imagine how terrifying it is to be strapped to a bench, legs spread wide apart while we get you ready. Clips on your nipples, your labia, your clitoris, and probes inserted deep into your urethra, anus and vagina. And then the electricity is applied, and you'll think you're going to die. In fact you'll wish you could die. And there will be nothing you can do to stop it."

He pressed the button and for thirty seconds Sophie was held in hell. When it ended, her vaginal muscles were clamped tight around the prod. She tried to beg and plead again, but there was nothing she could do. The feeling of helplessness was unbearable.

"But you won't die. You're going to pray for death so many times over the coming weeks, I hope you believe in God." Again the switch was pressed, and again Sophie’s world exploded in clenching muscles and convulsing nerves. She was already broken, she would tell this man anything he wanted, she would do anything he asked, if only he would stop this pain.

This time when the current was switched off, he pulled the prod from inside her and rubbed it across her face and lips. It was slick with her juices and blood, and left trails across her face. She could feel something running down the inside of her thighs. Her breasts rose and fell as she gasped for air.

He put the prod down, and sat on the desk facing her. "So, I think we've covered everything in your article now. I'm sure you're pleased to know your journalistic skills were so good, and that it was all so accurate. I'm sure you're also pleased to know that everyone that helped you write that article, all those traitors who talked to you, are soon going to be here experiencing it first hand as well. Because you're going to tell me exactly who they are. And once we have them here, you're going to watch me destroy each one as they give me more and more names."

Sophie was sobbing in despair. Alvarez sat down, and Gonzalez got up and stood in front of her. He reached between her legs with his left hand, and gently stroked her labia before pushing 2 fingers into her vagina. She winced as he stroked her clitoris, and felt it harden despite the pain she was in. Smiling, and looking into her wide open tear filled eyes, he raised his right hand which was holding a pair of pliers. Sophie screamed into her gag as he placed the jaws around her erect nipple and said, "Now it’s my turn."


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