The Courier Ch. 02

Once she was finished, the two cops lifted Maria Elena and stood her before the man in the suit. He lifted her chin and moved his face just a few centimeters in front of hers. Using a tone of suppressed rage, he spoke to her. She did not understand much of his English, but she understood very clearly the emotion in his voice:

"'No cocaína in stomach.' Those were the words you used, dishonored liar. Your own words have condemned you."

Deeply offended that she had lied to him, a public official, he was tempted to hit her across the face yet again, but resisted that urge. Instead he snapped his fingers and pointed at the hose lying on the floor. The two cops holding her arms guided her to the cuffs hanging from the ceiling for a second hosing with cold water. They paid special attention to the girl's sore bottom-hole, rubbing it with soap and massaging the opening with their fingertips before rinsing. Maria Elena sobbed with despair as she hung helplessly and the frigid spray cleaned off the last remnants of the soap.

For a second time, the two male cops dried her body with towels and fondled her. Meanwhile, the man in the suit looked over the collection of pellets now laid out on a metal hospital tray. He consulted with the doctor, who seemed satisfied they had managed to remove all of the drugs from their prisoner. A full kilo of cocaine, which had been destined for a nightclub in Hamburg, now had been taken off the street.

The two cops cuffed the prisoner's hands behind her back and led her to the doctor. The old man showed her the tray of pellets. He said nothing. He just stood in front of the young Colombian, silently holding the tray and enjoying her terrified expression. She was trembling and her bare breasts were jiggling slightly. He reached forward and gently traced one of her nipples, terrifying the poor girl even more. Good. The whole idea was to break her before she had to be turned over to a Spokesperson.

The two cops put Maria Elena back into the leg spreader, leaving her bent over, helpless, and lewdly exposed. Several cops stood around the prisoner, patting her bottom and admiring her figure, while they waited for their boss to issue another command. The inspector picked up a paddle from the table and held it up for the benefit of his subordinates and the horrified naked captive. He turned to the youngest cop in the room, a recent graduate of the National Police Academy.

"Officer Vólkchiatk!"

"Yes, Inspector!"

"Have you ever had the opportunity to use one of these? It is called a 'paddle'. It is a punishment implement used by the Americans."

"No, Inspector, I've only seen them. I've never had the chance to use one on a criminal."

"Well, Officer, we'll need to change that, now won't we? Would you like to try it on our little Colombian friend here?"

"Yes, Inspector!"

"Very well then. I am giving you the honor, Officer."

"Thank you, Inspector!"

With that the director handed the cruel-looking implement over to his subordinate, who tapped it against his palm to test how it felt.

Using a paddle was a new experience for the cop, because paddles only recently had been introduced in Danubia as an alternative to traditional leather switches. The advantage of using a paddle was that the American implement was less dangerous and required considerably less training than a police switch. As a result, paddles were beginning to show up in schools and interrogation rooms around the Danubian Republic, although it remained doubtful they ever would replace switches during formal judicial punishments.

Maria Elena gasped in horror and disbelief as the young cop showed her the paddle, then moved behind her and began teasing her with it, gently rubbing her vulnerable bottom with the implement and tapping her with the end. She desperately struggled to stand up, but the cuffs held tight and she could barely move, let alone escape.

The officer smiled coldly, tapped the paddle against her left bottom-cheek one final time, and struck hard with a cruel blow. A loud POP and an anguished cry of pain announced the beginning of what would be a long and very painful afternoon for the captured courier.

POP...POP...POP...POP...POP...

Slowly and methodically the cop struck his victim, on the left side, then on the right side, then across both agonized bottom-cheeks. Like all cops in the Danubian Republic, the young man had received formal training in administering physical discipline and had been certified to use a police switch to flog criminals. However, he had never used a paddle and was thoroughly enjoying the new experience. The loud pops and the evenly spreading reddish marks on the girl's bottom fascinated him. He had no desire to stop anytime soon. Quite to the contrary, he was hoping to prove himself to the others in the room by completely breaking any hint of resistance from the young Colombian. He was determined that by the time he was finished with her, she would be so terrified that she would be completely compliant with anything his boss told her to do.

"AIEEEEE!!!! No...no...por favor...piedad...no mas...AIEEEEEEEEE!!!!!...por-fa...por favor...tenga piedad..."

Maria Elena's anguished cries and desperate pleas in Spanish filled the room as the paddle continued to belabor her tormented backside. The only pause came when she pitched forward and started to fall, but fortunately the cop's partner was standing next to the detainee, fully anticipating that she might lose her balance. The police woman caught the prisoner before she hit the floor, but then brutally grabbed her hair and righted her. She held on tight to Maria Elena's hair while her partner struck hard with a series of particularly vicious swats.

Maria Elena continued to scream for "piedad". However from the Danubians there would be no "piedad" for a proven drug trafficker and perjurer. A woman as disgusting and dishonored as this Latin American deserved no pity whatsoever. The cop did not quit paddling Maria Elena until he was convinced that just a few more swats would break her skin. Her bottom was painfully swollen and deep red in color. He could tell that she was very weak. Were it not for his partner holding her up by viciously gripping her hair, she would have fallen onto her face a long time ago. The cop handed the paddle to one of his fellow officers and asked for one of the leather switches hanging on the wall. With the new implement he viciously struck the detainee across her shoulders and was rewarded with an ear-piercing scream. As soon as the scream died down he struck hard again. He waited for her second scream to die down, before addressing his boss in Danubian.

"Inspector, I believe she's ready. Should we release her?"

"As you see fit, Officer. If you feel she is ready, then release her and we shall see if your assessment of the prisoner's condition is accurate."

As his partner continued to pull hard on the courier's hair, the young cop unbuckled the cuffs holding Maria Elena's hands. Once again the leg spreader fell to the ground with a loud clank. The two cops grabbed the sobbing prisoner's arms and led her to the man in the suit. The female kicked the naked Colombian in the backs of the knees to force her to kneel.

Now the Danubians would have to test whether or not Maria Elena needed any further punishment. With taps of the switch the young cop directed her to kneel forward and put her elbows on the ground. Maria Elena did as she was directed and did not resist. She remained in that position, sobbing, for several long minutes before the Inspector spoke to her.

"The cocaine...who does it belong to? Who is the owner of the cocaine? What is the name...the name...the identity...of the person you planned to give it to?"

Officer Vólkchiatk touched the switch to the young woman's back, letting her know the consequences of not answering.

At that moment Maria Elena wanted only one thing in life. She wanted the whipping to stop. She wanted the pain and the humiliation to stop. It was at that point she realized that she needed to give up. Whatever her handler had threatened to do to her, and whatever her organization was capable of doing, no longer had any relevance in her life. Everything that she had wanted and hoped for prior to getting on Flight 2298 had ended, and none of it was ever going to come back. Her life, her body, and her future now belonged to the Danubians, cruel men in uniform who had proven themselves every bit as ruthless as any drug trafficker.

She let out a final sob, and gave her answer.

"Alex Mejia-Silva. Se llama Alex Mejia-Silva."

"Alex Mejia-Silva in Frankfurt, or Alex Mejia-Silva in Panama?"

"Alex Mejia en Panamá."

"What about Frankfurt? Germany? I want the name in Frankfurt."

"No conozco el hombre en Alemania, pero me dijieron que se llama 'el Flaco'. El Flaco me iba a llamar."

The Danubians recorded Maria Elena's answers, knowing that they could follow up the information once they found someone who could translate her Spanish into Danubian. The inspector knew that it was highly unlikely that a mere one-kilo courier had much information that would be of any use to the Danubian National Police, but to him that really didn't matter. What mattered was that Maria Elena was willing to do what she was told, willing to talk, and willing to give up whatever names she knew.

The inspector nodded approvingly at his subordinate. The young officer had passed his first real-life test interrogating a detainee.

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For the next half hour the Inspector questioned Maria Elena about her drug trafficking group, her initial trip from Colombia to Panama, her plans once she got to Germany, where she got her passport and forged visa, and, above all, names and addresses. He understood very little of what she was saying, but her voice was being recorded and whatever information was lacking could be supplemented once a Spanish-speaker was located. The names would be turned over to the INTERPOL, although the Inspector knew, through experience, that it was unlikely anything would happen to anyone else in Maria Elena's trafficking group. They had lost a kilo and a courier, no big deal. Maria Elena's life would be forever changed, but of course, to her trafficking group she was expendable.

Not that the Inspector or anyone else in the room had any sympathy for Maria Elena. To the Danubians, the poverty and personal situation that led her to the desperate decision to risk her life for 15,000 Euros and a fake visa were irrelevant. The fact that she had no intention of taking the cocaine to Danubia and only had landed there by accident was irrelevant. To the officials in that basement she was a drug trafficker, a liar, a perjurer, and a person who had violated the sanctity of her body by using it to smuggle cocaine. Because she was so thoroughly dishonored, she had no rights and deserved no mercy.

Throughout the interrogation Maria Elena remained on her elbows and knees, her muscles cramping and her bottom aching, her stomach still in pain from the forced vomiting and her intestines still sore from the pellets and the enema that finally forced her to expel them. Between her answers, she sobbed from despair, fright, and discomfort. However, above all she was sobbing from the utter humiliation she was experiencing, from her exposure and all the fondling she had endured.

The interrogation team let her stand up and gave her a short respite. One of the doctor's assistants handed her a glass of water, which she drank greedily. She was dehydrated, but had not realized it until she had the chance to drink. Next she was ordered to sit down and given a glass of blackberry punch, which further restored her senses and made her feel considerably better. The pallor in her skin and her sick expression faded after a few minutes. She now was ready for the next part of her ordeal. The Danubians had something far more degrading planned for her. Before she posed for her mugshots and received her criminal number, she faced a final humiliation, one that served no other purpose than to provide her tormentors with entertainment.

The Inspector nodded at the old doctor, who pointed at the gynecological chair and snapped his fingers at his two male assistants. Immediately the medical assistants grabbed Maria Elena, lifted her up, and forced her into the examination chair. Before she realized what was happening, they tightly buckled her ankles and wrists. The assistants spread the leg supports and locked them open, leaving her immobilized and thoroughly exposed.

She gasped with despair, terrified that the cops were planning to gang-rape her. The cops knew that was what she was thinking, but what they had in mind was not something as simple as rape. They wanted to further humiliate her, but were not about to dishonor their own bodies in doing so. Instead they planned to insult her in the worst way a woman could be insulted in Danubia.

The female medical assistant approached the terrified Colombian. Using a stethoscope she listened to the criminal's pounding heart and nervous breathing, then held her wrist and measured her very rapid pulse. Then she began stroking the young woman's limbs, checking the joints and making sure her bones were not broken. She began stroking the girl's skin, making sure her skin was healthy and had no injuries or lumps. From there she moved to Maria Elena's breasts, examining them for lumps or other imperfections. Maria Elena's nipples hardened slightly, and hardened even more when the medical assistant gently began stroking them with her fingertips. The assistant turned her attention to the courier's face, gently stroking her cheeks and making sure her temperature was normal.

"You pretty girl. So pretty...Hmmmm..."

Maria Elena's body began reacting to the soft touches and gentle speech of her examiner. The Danubian woman coldly observed her subject's reactions, astutely gauging what was working and what wasn't. As she gently stroked Maria Elena's neck and shoulders, again she spoke to her in a soft, comforting tone of voice.

"Nice girl...pretty girl...hmmmm...so lovely...

Maria Elena had no clue what was going on. She was relieved that for the moment she was not being beaten, she was not being questioned, and she was not being raped. None of those horrid men were touching her. Instead she was being caressed by another female who seemed to have no ill intent towards her. Involuntarily she was relaxing, her body slowly surrendering to the touches of that Danubian woman in the white doctor's smock.

The woman gently ran her fingers along Maria Elena's stomach, before returning to her breasts and shoulders.

"You poor girl...I no hurt you..."

Maria Elena gasped and began to let down her guard. The first hint of erotic excitement swept through her body. The Danubian gently began stroking the insides of her legs. She then moved close to the subject's face and with a gentle, reassuring tone of voice commented:

"I need see you...but I no hurt you. You be good girl for me? You please be good girl?"

"Yes...I be good...I..."

The Danubian woman gently stroked Maria Elena's cheek, gave her an almost sad look, and diverted her attention to the courier's very exposed vulva.

She put on a medical glove on her right hand, then with her left hand continued to stroke her subject's thighs and stomach. Expertly she touched the hapless foreigner, having figured out the vulnerabilities of the girl's body and what touches were most effective for arousing her. She lubricated her gloved hand, and gently began stroking Maria Elena's vulnerable labia. She teased and barely brushed that secret area, making her victim want to be touched all that much more. Gradually Maria Elena's awareness of her surroundings and her situation began to fade, as her attention focused more and more on the pleasurable sensations that her body was experiencing.

"You good girl? You kiss my cheek?"

Maria Elena complied, kissing the cheek of her tormentor. She now was under the other woman's control, wanting nothing more than to experience the sexual gratification that was to be her reward for pleasing that Danubian.

The male cops observing what was going on smiled at each other at the sight of their captive debasing herself so blatantly. The medical assistant was coming through for them once again. The woman's specialty was humiliating female captives by bringing them to orgasm in the interrogation room and she was an expert in what she was doing. She had tormented and debased dozens of female detainees, Danubian and foreign alike. She knew the vulnerabilities of the female body, and was skilled at determining the individual weaknesses of a woman with just a few words and gentle strokes of her fingers. Even Danubian women, who were well aware of her true intentions, found it hard to resist her touches and caresses. Foreign women, who were mostly unaware that to be sexually touched by another person of the same sex was a supreme insult in Danubian society, almost always fell victim to having a forced orgasm in the interrogation room.

Maria Elena began to get wet as the Danubian gently stroked her clitoris.

"Uuuuuy...Uy sí....Aieeee....Uy....Aí sí...o que bueno...sí...uy sí...."

The medical assistant turned on the vibrator and gently worked it into her victim. Oh it felt so good...

Maria Elena gasped and perspired as the orgasm swept over her. She ignored the click-click-click of the camera and the fact she was being watched and videotaped. It felt so good at the moment...so good...

"aieee...uy sí...sí...o más...más...por-fa...sí...uy...uy..."

Once the orgasm passed, Maria Elena quickly came to her senses. She noted the cold smiles on the faces of the men who had watched the spectacle that she had made out of herself. Then she noticed the very cruel look on the face of the woman who had just seduced her. As a gesture of contempt, the Danubian took off her medical glove and dropped it on the detainee's face.

The medical assistant smiled triumphantly at the Inspector, who bowed slightly as a gesture of respect. Once again the woman's expertise had allowed her to disgrace and humiliate a detainee. Maria Elena had been seduced by another woman, and in the mindset of the Danubians she was now completely dishonored. She looked with horror at the cameras, which obviously had recorded everything.

There was another humiliation awaiting her, but it paled in comparison with what had just been done to her by that Danubian medical assistant. She was pulled out of the gynecological chair and chained to the ceiling for a third frigid spray-bath to wash off the remnants of her orgasm. As two sets of hands worked the soap between her legs and fondled her vulva, she quietly cried. She struggled to keep her face up, because she knew that as a criminal in Danubia she had no right to hide her shame. She also knew that if she lowered her head, she could expect a vicious slap from that inspector in the suit.

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The dog handler and his partner cuffed Maria Elena and led her out of the interrogation into the basement hallway. Across from the large room was a row of small doorways. The two police officers opened the door into a small, dark, unfurnished cell. They uncuffed their prisoner, pushed her into the room, closed the door, and left her to go back to work. On their way out they picked up the dog. Maria Elena could hear the animal barking happily as the trio went back up the stairs into the main concourse. She vaguely wondered if they would catch anyone else that day, and then wondered how many couriers they had caught altogether.

Maria Elena sat in silence. The cell was cold and she curled up to try to keep warm. As she sat in the darkness, completely naked in the small dismal room, a despair and anguish unlike anything she had ever experienced swept over her. Her bottom continued to ache from the cruel paddling she had received, but what had followed tormented her soul even more. Even though she was unfamiliar with Danubian culture and spoke nothing of the country's language, she fully understood the extent to which they had humiliated her in that room.