Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
A couple of interesting vids. Thanks for posting, guys.
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
Bastinado has never been a favorite torture for me - but if you’ve never had it done to you, trust me it’s sheer agony. Very effective.
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
Sweet girl, lovely hogtie. Working on those sensitive feet would be quite fun, and no doubt put some tears on those pretty cheeks.
Great post.
Great post.

Slave Rule #1- No matter how bad the pain is, it can always get worse
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
They will talk.....
soon enough.......
soon enough.......
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
Navyrotor: Most definitely! 50 strokes from a flexible bamboo cane and 50 from a stiff leather tawse
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
They had recruited sweet Monica from the University, where she was a sophomore student; an American, studying abroad. She was a perfect candidate to go undercover for the government… Colombian descent, a political science major, and idealistic about the situation in the country - wanting to end the terror of the junta regime. Most importantly, the militants would never suspect someone so young, innocent and pretty to have the courage to spy on them. Unfortunately for Monica, her youth also meant an un-seasoned carelessness; and after just two days spying on them a simple check of her cell phone revealed a text that should never have been sent.
Her abduction had begun with a severe beating in front of the Colonel in his office; then she was dragged to the basement of the downtown office building, and gang raped repeatedly while they filmed her ordeal. Cuffed and hooded, Monica was then driven the four hours deep into the jungle, rock music blaring in the steel enclosure of the panel truck the entire time.
Now, chained to the cold wall and floor, the shivering and weeping co-ed tried to shift her weight to relieve the pain in her knees. The Colonel, having taken an immediate interest in his captive American stood before her in his uniform. Slowly undressing, he laid out her options: “Monica, my sweet… tell us who you were recruited by and you can avoid most of what is coming your way.”.
Sad, powder-blue eyes reluctantly looked up at her captor and caught his sadistic, lustful gaze. As she tried to plead with him in Spanish, he could barely make out her sputtering words through the steel plug that filled her tender mouth. He knew full well that she knew virtually nothing about who recruited her; which made the interrogation he was about to conduct that much more delicious. She would reveal the agency of course, and the timing of her recruitment, even describe their appearances… she would talk hurriedly about anything she knew to stop the horror… but she could trade nothing of value for her protection.
“What’s that, chica? I can’t quite make it out,” the Colonel said with delight. As he removed his gunbelt and tunic, and slowly unzipped his trousers, Monica shuffled on the steel plates at her knees, shook her head furiously and pleaded desperately for mercy. None was coming her way, as she saw him take a shock prod in one hand and his stiffening cock in the other. The young college student was about to get a dose of political science instruction that was far more real than anything her classroom had to offer. There was no reasoned theory and circumspection here… just the cold, harsh reality of one side having lost to the other… and a hot, nubile young girl about to experience the true horrors of the Colombian junta’s sadism.
As the first thrust of the baton entered her side, Monica’s body jerked against the chains. She shrieked and a flow of bubbling saliva joined a river of tears on her cheeks as the Colonel rubbed his pulsating cock against the delicious hot mixture.
Her abduction had begun with a severe beating in front of the Colonel in his office; then she was dragged to the basement of the downtown office building, and gang raped repeatedly while they filmed her ordeal. Cuffed and hooded, Monica was then driven the four hours deep into the jungle, rock music blaring in the steel enclosure of the panel truck the entire time.
Now, chained to the cold wall and floor, the shivering and weeping co-ed tried to shift her weight to relieve the pain in her knees. The Colonel, having taken an immediate interest in his captive American stood before her in his uniform. Slowly undressing, he laid out her options: “Monica, my sweet… tell us who you were recruited by and you can avoid most of what is coming your way.”.
Sad, powder-blue eyes reluctantly looked up at her captor and caught his sadistic, lustful gaze. As she tried to plead with him in Spanish, he could barely make out her sputtering words through the steel plug that filled her tender mouth. He knew full well that she knew virtually nothing about who recruited her; which made the interrogation he was about to conduct that much more delicious. She would reveal the agency of course, and the timing of her recruitment, even describe their appearances… she would talk hurriedly about anything she knew to stop the horror… but she could trade nothing of value for her protection.
“What’s that, chica? I can’t quite make it out,” the Colonel said with delight. As he removed his gunbelt and tunic, and slowly unzipped his trousers, Monica shuffled on the steel plates at her knees, shook her head furiously and pleaded desperately for mercy. None was coming her way, as she saw him take a shock prod in one hand and his stiffening cock in the other. The young college student was about to get a dose of political science instruction that was far more real than anything her classroom had to offer. There was no reasoned theory and circumspection here… just the cold, harsh reality of one side having lost to the other… and a hot, nubile young girl about to experience the true horrors of the Colombian junta’s sadism.
As the first thrust of the baton entered her side, Monica’s body jerked against the chains. She shrieked and a flow of bubbling saliva joined a river of tears on her cheeks as the Colonel rubbed his pulsating cock against the delicious hot mixture.
Re: Women political prisoners tortured by Junta Dictatorships
This is really well done: allmost like real.
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