I hear the squeaky sound of my cell door opening. I raise my head and look up and you come in through the entrance of my cell. I don’t remember how long I’ve been here since captured. I was trying to count the days, but since being moved to this cell in the basement, it has been impossible to count the days.
I was sitting on the bed, and I try to retreat towards the back of the cell, but you grab my arms roughly. Of course, there is nowhere for me to hide from you. Your uniform is intact, as usual. You have a riding crop in your hand, which is unusual…I notice.
“You should’ve talked earlier” you mumble in a low voice that nobody other than me can hear.
I’m not sure where you were taking me…..is this a sort of a torture chamber? Still in the basement. I quickly look around the room you dragged me into. Chains from the ceiling and walls, a few chairs and a desk. Dark but one bright light.
You push me into the room and I fall down on the floor.
“Ouch”, my hands and knees that hit the stone ground hurt. I look up. You are looking me down with your cold green eyes. Playing around with the riding crop in your hand. This doesn’t look good today.
“Now…you know what I want”
“Are you kidding? I have no idea what you are talking about”
The same thing that we’ve repeated for several days since you caught me.
“Well….madam…..let’s see what we’ve found” you smile, and walk towards the desk. Something is different today.
You say “radio frequency list for the next month….skeleton keys……” and start picking up them to show me, then put them on the desk again once you notice I looked at it.
“…did you go through my…!” I shout and then stop in the middle….oh shit…what did I just say….
You smile but look a bit surprised that I slipped. “my what? beneath your floorboard?” you cynically say. Few days of interrogation, almost 10 hours a day, or more? I’m not sure. Your men kept asking the same thing, that is, who my resistance members are and what our plans are. Given my title, you or your men never got physical up to yesterday but I feel that the tide has changed. You never took me to this room or came into the interrogation with a crop. Your men haven’t come into this room as well today.
Oh shit. I hope they didn’t…..? My prayer was short-lived.
“….and guns and handgrenades, fake passports” you slowly continue. You raise your head and look at me again.
Shit. They found everything. I bite my lips.
“Come now. You’ve been having it easy, so far! Tell me all you know before things become serious!” Your tone of voice changes.
“Did your men plant them in my house?” I try to be strong but I know I am trembling.
You don’t answer and you walk forward towards me. We both know that doesn’t work.
“What I want , madame, is the name of your connection with the resistance” With that, you swot my breasts with your crop. It was so quick that I couldn’t move. I feel my breasts are burning. I can feel exactly where the crop has left marks on my breasts.
“Uh Ouch……..I know nothing. Your men grabbed me in the street. Such stupid men” I repeat what I’ve been repeating for the past few days.
At least…..the interrogator is you, today. I think. You came into the interrogation several times and listened to your men interrogate me, but you never spoke a word. But why you today? If they’ve found these, they won’t let me go….
You walk around to my back and swat my ass twice. With full strength. I let out a cry. You grab the back of my hair strongly and make me look up at you. A strong light be is behind you, I can’t clearly see your face but I can imagine how your eyes are looking at me..the eyes that I so love.
“…you’ve had it easy till now but it appears to me we can skip over the tedious interrogation nonsense”
I must’ve looked puzzled. You continue, with a smile “and move on to the fun part….brutal torture”. You grab my arms which are cuffed in front of me, put the hook from the ceiling between the handcuffs, my arms jerk above my head and begin to be lifted from the floor.
I let out a scream as my weight is now pulling on my arms. My foot is hardly touching the floor.
“Ouch. urghh……it hurts” I can’t help but scream. Cuffs are scratching my wrists too as I move.
“You know nothing of pain yet”
I can hear the words but trying to balance my body with my feet which are barely touching the floor. You rip my clothes, first the blouse and then the skirt apart. I wasn’t allowed to wear undies….so I’m almost naked. “No…..” I feel ashamed, but also every move of my body hurts my wrists pulled from the ceiling.
“You are guilty, now you will pay” you touch my cheeks, so softly, the way I liked so much. It’s still the way I like… I close my eyes because I didn’t want to look at you, your eyes. You feel each of my breasts softly at first, and then slap them strongly with your crop.
“…mm……” I close my eyes and close my lips so that I won’t let my cry out.
“There is nothing you can do now whore. I will get what I need from you in the end”
“!…” I’m shocked that you called me a whore and that you strongly pulled my nipples with your hand at the same time. But you are so close to me and it’s you. I close my eyes. It’s your masculine smell that I love with some smell of your sweat. I’m getting….aroused…..not now…..please….
You probe between my legs….oh no….please…..don’t. I even forget about the pain of my breasts, my shoulder and my wrists.
“What’s this?” you sound coarse.
“Don’t touch with your dirty hands!” I scream.
“I won’t touch with my hands” you spank my clit with your riding crop. “Uhhhh” then you hit inside my thighs too. I know I’m dripping. You know me too well.
“What’s this?” you smile again. And take off your gloves, slip your finger inside me. One finger then another…..
To be continued….if I feel like it….based on the story sexts created by my Master. I used to hate sexts and role-plays for BDSM. I had nobody who can create stories that were believable and hot. lol. Now I’m hooked.