Interrogation

Strung up, naked, on what appeared to be a very crude St. Andrew's. I knew who they were, of course, and knew what they wanted. They had gotten me easily enough, so they knew me fairly well, but obviously not well enough. Not well enough to know I had a much more authentic one in the basement of my house, or that a friend and I had once joked that I would never be the "white picket fence" type, but a "white picket" St. Andrews Cross might be more my style. So, I had a feeling what might be in store for me, and wondered how long it would take them to figure out it wasn't going to work, and how much longer after that before they found my weakness, found what really WOULD work.

Not much else in the room, bare walls, a covered table, electrical cords snaking out from under a portion of the cover, plugged into an outlet on the wall, one of those gynecologist's examination chairs. That was it, no windows, two doors, I wondered where they led. I wasn't blindfolded or gagged, so they obviously didn't care if I saw them, or how much noise I made, maybe they liked the thought of listening to my screams, ha, they really didn't know me that well.

I heard them outside one of the doors, two of them, arguing, low voices, but arguing nonetheless. Not my worry, let the bad guys fight amongst themselves, I could not care less, the longer it took them to get to me, the more time my team had to find me, and I knew they would, eventually. Finally, one came into the room, tall, white blond, Aryan-type, young, must be a newbie, I thought to myself, they must be really underestimating me if they're sending in the second string first.

"Comfortable?"

"Fuck You"

SMACK!!! The back of his right hand made contact with the side of my face. Now I don't mind being slapped, sometimes I really like it. This time, it started to piss me off, but I didn't react, just looked at him. Something in my eyes must have sparked him SMACK!!! left handed this time, oh look, he's ambidextrous. Split my lip a little with that one, too, so I spit the blood at him. Mistake? No, I was interested to see just how far he could go, before he'd have to back off, turn me over to someone with a little more authority. The spit obviously pissed him off, and he began to methodically slap me, backhand, forehand, five times, ten times, I stopped counting, that familiar tingling getting started, deep in my belly. He was definitely holding back something, he could very well have slapped me unconscious, but he stopped well before that became an issue.

"Now you'll tell me what I want to know, so we don't have to go any further than this"

"I'll tell you anything your little heart desires, sweetie...

"Good"

....except where to find the pictures you want so badly."

"Fine, we didn't expect it to be easy."

He walked over to the table, and pulled the cover off of it. Implements of torture (hehehehe) were laid out, waiting, the thin rattan canes, clamps of various sizes, the singletail, a big wooden paddle, and (be still my heart) a Folsom unit (electrical play at its finest) with some interesting looking attachments, including a stainless steel speculum that I had always wanted to try, these poor guys had no clue. Maybe I should try to look afraid.

He chose the canes first, two of them, and came back to stand in front of me. Maybe he was hoping I'd just buckle and tell him what he wanted to know, but I just hung there, waiting for him. The first strike of the cane is always the best, I think, brings everything into focus immediately, and everything after that is just icing, and he had two of them, one in each hand, and he was definitely ambidextrous. He started with the outsides of my legs, calves first, both hands, then using the canes together in one hand, I think he was hoping I would flinch, or cry out, or something, but I was strapped to the cross fairly well, and couldn't really move, and I really didn't want to cry out, or they would figure out really quickly that it was orgasms, not pain, not fear, that were making me react, and I was not quite ready to have that happen yet.

But holding it all in was apparently making some impact on him, as I was beginning to sweat, and I could not help but moan, a little, and I think my little reaction egged him on, he kicked up the caning, the insides of my thighs now, my pussy, around to my ass, my back and shoulders, dam, he had a way with the canes, that's for sure. I was barely keeping it together, managing to enjoy it, but being soooooooooo quiet about it, and all I really wanted to do was scream at him...Harder, hit me harder, make me cum.

"Enough?"

"Oh, is that all there is?" I'm not usually quite so bitchy, but he had stopped at a really bad time. I could feel the welts forming on my back, and could see the purple stripes on my arms and my tits, god, makes me feel special.

He walked back over to the table, and picked up the singletail, took a few preliminary swings with it, and came back toward me, smiling.

He stood far enough from me that that first strike with the singletail just bit a nipple. He was good with this, had obviously practiced, that excited me even more, there is nothing like a singletail in the hands of someone who knows what to do with it. He continued at that distance for a few strokes, just letting the whip bite me here, bite me there, not letting me feel the full impact of it yet, if he only knew how he was teasing me, but I tried to let a little fear show in my eyes, tried to make my moans sound scared and in pain, gee I hoped I was fooling him.

"Enough yet? You don't seem to like my little friend, you're struggling." He was right, I was struggling, only he didn't realize I was struggling to get closer to each blow, wanting, needing to feel the full impact of that whip, needing to feel it ripping into my flesh.

"So, enough? Ready to talk now?"

"No, fuck you."

Anger now, in his eyes, I was being obstinate, he was used to his subjects breaking by this time. And so it began, the full onslaught of his anger, raining down on me through that whip. Shouting at me..."Tell me, now, enough games, tell me." I could feel the bloodlines beginning, on my thighs, on my back, paper cut like, stinging, I couldn't stop the orgasms, coming fast and furious now, his fury taking them for moans, screams of pain, of terror, inciting him to whip me harder, he finally had to stop himself, perhaps afraid of inflicting too much damage. Again, he was obviously not the one in charge, and too much harm might cause him some problems with the one really in charge.

Panting, both of us breathless, me from the pleasure, him from his frustration that he couldn't break me, couldn't make me beg, couldn't make me tell him what he needed to know, what he had been sent there to find out.

The door opened, and I got a shock, and my first pangs of fear began to form. It was Him, why didn't I know He was involved? Dam, the one, the only one who would know just what it would take to end this, to make me talk. He knew me better than anyone had ever known me, knew all the good places He could take me, and knew the one bad place that I refused to go. He'd only taken me there once, and brought me back before it got too bad, but I had a feeling I'd be going there again, and He would not be nearly so nice about bringing me back. Made me wonder, though, if He was the one in charge, why all this other stuff? Why give me all this pleasure, He knew how much I was enjoying it, had to know, He'd done these and so many other things to me before. Then again, He is a sadist, and He had once told me He loved me.

"Has she told you anything?"

"No" Fury in his voice, frustration showing through at his inability.

"Fine, I'll take over now, you're dismissed."

Face to face with Him, I kept quiet, and He smiled.

"I imagine you're quite ready to get down. I know you've seen the electric utensils waiting for you, let's see if you can still take them, like the good old days."

He unstrapped me from the cross, and caught me as I almost fell, the circulation coming back into my limbs, and with it the after shocks of the caning and the whipping, the blood burning in my veins, making my head swim. He took me to the chair, strapped me down, and proceeded to hook me up to the machine.

"Why?"

"Why did I let him do all this to you when I knew it wouldn't work?" He was very methodically placing the clamps on me, making sure to get them in all the right spots, the leads already attached, the pads all in place, taped down, the restraints holding me firmly in place.

"Yes, why?"

"Ego, very simply. He's always bragged about how easy it would be for him to break you, and I knew better, I wanted to see him brought down a notch or two. It worked quite well, don't you think?"

He should know ego, the bastard had an ego the size of a small country. All of this would only serve to make Him look better, once He had finished with me, and I knew He would finish me, if He had the time, He knew how, knew what it would take.

"So, You gave me all of this, all the pleasure You knew I would get from this, just to feed Your ego?"

He came up to my head, leaned over me, kissed me, smiled.

"Because I know what's going to happen when I'm done here, and I wanted you to have a little something to remember Me by."

He went back to the machine, and took the speculum in His hand, sliding it into me, cold, hard steel, the electricity was going to be inside and out, and I couldn't wait.

He turned to the controls, and began to set them, starting with a setting He knew I could easily take, every clamp, every pad, the speculum, humming with the current, my body coming alive with the power surging through me. But it wasn't enough, and He knew it, and was waiting for me to beg.

Straining against my bonds, as if somehow I could get closer to the power, refusing to give Him the pleasure of hearing the desire in my voice, hearing me plead for more. Dam Him.

"Turn it up" whispering

"What? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"Harder, turn it up." Whimpering, I hated it, hated the wanting Him so bad.

"I'm sorry, I still can't hear you."

"God Dammit, turn it up, harder.....please." Fuck, He did it, made me say please, the closest to actual begging I'd ever come, He had always been able to get me to that point, fucker.

He walked back up to my head, took my chin in His hand, looked at me so sweetly.

"You are going to have to beg this time, really beg, tell Me you want it, tell Me you want Me to give it to you. If you really want it, you are going to have to beg."

My brain tried, it really did. It said "No, fuck you, I am not going to beg you for anything, you do not own me, you do not control me anymore, you are an asshole, we have nothing between us, you cannot make me, I will not even ask nicely, fuck you NO!!"

It was my body that took over, straining against the bonds, the electricity bringing me so tantalizingly close to release, nerve endings screaming, if He would only turn it up, one more notch, just one more, that's all I needed, my body took over, and I begged.

"Please, please, let me cum, make me cum, give me that, please, just a little more, please, I'll do whatever You want, You know I will, I always have, I always will, please, just one more notch, a little more juice, please..." Disgusting display, tears even, and He knew that it was real, I had never, ever given in to Him like this before, and it made the asshole happy.

He went back to the machine, looked at me. "You're sure?"

"yes" pleading, little girl voice, I needed it, and He knew it.

He turned it up then, suddenly, two levels, higher than I'd ever taken before, shocking me, stunning me, the electricity coursing through me, flying on it, releasing me, god the pleasure, I closed my eyes, letting the waves roll over me, release, finally, beautiful flight, soaring, flying, orgasm after orgasm.

I felt His hand in my hair, knew what He wanted, it had always been this way. I turned my head, and took Him in my mouth, His taste so familiar, He fit so perfectly in my mouth, I hated Him, hated Him for knowing me so fucking well. Both hands now, buried in my hair, taking His pleasure, fucking my throat, deep, I knew He could feel some of the electricity through the piercing in my tongue, knew that got Him off, that extra little bit of control, at that moment, I didn't care, I was flying, and nothing mattered, time was nothing, there was only the pain, and the pleasure.

Once He was done, He turned off the machine, and very casually ripped off all the things attached to my various body parts. I barely noticed, still floating. The restraints removed, He helped me off the chair, and my legs promptly betrayed me, and I sank to the floor. He looked down at me, shrugged His shoulders, took me by the hair, and dragged me to the door, not the one to leave, the other door, and that's when the fear set in, and I remembered why I was here, why He had brought me here, and I knew, knew what was on the other side of that door.

He opened the door, and inside, a cage, the size the pet stores sell for the big dogs. The inside of the door, and the inside of the closet, padded, sound proofed. Inside the cage, a bucket, and a bottle of water. He knelt down next to me, I knew He could see the fear, real fear, in my eyes, could probably smell it coming from me. Sensory deprivation was something we'd played with, but in general, and the one and only time He had locked me in the closet, punishing me for something, it hadn't been for long, but it had been long enough, and He knew then that it was not a good thing, and He'd never done it again.

"You know, all it takes is for you to tell me where to find the pictures, and we'll go get them, and you and I go away together, you know you still belong to Me.."

"I won't, You know that, and I'm not afraid of Your cage anymore" big words, and inside I was shaking.

He just looked at me, like He was sorry to do what He was about to do, but I knew better, He had a raging hard-on just thinking about this, always the bastard. He took me by the hair, and shoved me into the cage in the closet, locked the cage door.

"One last chance."

"Fuck you."

And the door closed, and the key turned in the lock.

I had been learning to meditate, thought it would help me, and it did, to begin with, deep breathing, centering myself, I was ok, until the thoughts started, the not knowing what else might be in the closet with me, would anybody come get me? did anybody even know where I was? Time stopped, or flew, I had no idea, there was no time, it had ceased to exist, I only knew fear, fear of the unknown, fear of abandonment, fear of everything, too afraid to breathe, too afraid to concentrate, ready for it to be over, ready to tell Him, ready to be His again, fuck Him, He was breaking me this way, I couldn't let it happen, but the fear was overwhelming, and underneath it all, that little thrill, that sick little bit of excitement, this was not a good place, and I needed out, needed out now. Seconds, minutes, hours, I had no idea, it could have been days. No sound, the darkness more complete than anything I'd ever been in, blackness, the padded walls absorbing even the sound of my breathing. I was convinced I would never be found, that life was going on around me, and no one would ever come for me. Dam Him, fuck Him for this, I hated Him, would never forgive Him, needed Him to come for me, I would tell Him whatever, go with Him wherever, so long as He would get me out of this cage.

Broken now, in tears, I waited, helpless, He had to come, He had to save me, He was my only hope, I knew He would come for me.

The door opened. I don't know how long I had lain there, crying, hopeless, but finally someone had come, and I didn't have to be afraid anymore. It wasn't Him, they assured me He was gone, they had taken care of Him, and He wouldn't, couldn't do this to me anymore.

It took a while, but the nightmares finally stopped, and I'm whole again, and ready to work.