She Was Sexually Tortured Until She Confessed Where Her Murdering Boyfriend Was Hiding


The young woman heaved and tested her bindings on the bed. She was completely naked. Her breasts were flat against the bed covers and her bare bottom was raised to prominence. The girl’s arms stretched between her kneeling legs and were fixed in leather cuffs attached to a spreader bar binding her ankles next to them. As a result the crease between her buttocks was forced to open exposing the vulnerable dark puckered hole for penetration. It also provided a tantalising glimpse of her ripe vulva. She wore a blindfold over her eyes and quietly she whimpered.

The bed was the only object in the small room. A solitary tall man in an immaculate dark grey designer suit stood in the shadows of the dimly lit space stood over her. In his hand he held a curled leather bullwhip ready to extract the information he needed from the imprisoned woman in the cell. It was time to begin her interrogation.

Dylan Blake rested his large manicured male palm on the girl’s bottom and stroked it almost lovingly. He peered in to her small anal hole trying to judge its size for the object he was to insert. The girl had proved difficult to interrogate stubbornly refusing to tell him of her boyfriend’s whereabouts and where he planned to kill the Government Minister. An environmental activist who was prepared to kill rather than achieve his objectives in a peaceful manner and the luck of the devil in avoiding the authorities, Dylan believed the only way to find Jonas was through his girlfriend and he’d picked her up that afternoon.

She’d proved a handful and resisted arrest. He’d tackled her to the floor of the kitchen after she’d thrown several pots and pans at him and dragged her hands behind her back. That was when she turned and bit his wrist. Grimacing with blood staining his white cuff he decided to show her he meant business. Pulling her up off the floor with one hand holding her wrists together behind her back and the other tugging her long dark ponytail, he had raised her from the kitchen floor and slammed her front ways against the wall. Making sure her pretty face didn’t smack the wall he pulled harder on the ponytail until her head stretched uncomfortably back.

“Where is he?” Dylan demanded pulling her hair hard.

“I am not telling you anything?” she screamed at him.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, you will by the time I am finished with you.”

He glanced down at the blood seeping from his wound staining his cuff with a frown. The shirt was ruined.

The girl was wearing a short dress and as he thought of his ruined shirt and the throbbing pain coming from his wrist he ached to spank her backside. The quick flash of her white thong as he slammed her against the wall again exposing her partially bare bottom was too inviting not to smack. To calm her he let go of her hair and lifted the cotton strappy white summer dress to her waist and bunched it there. She squealed and fought but his lean athletic frame was far too strong for her to fight. With lightening speed he moved his fingers down inside the top of her thong, just above the covered crease between her buttocks and in one motion pulled it down over her bottom.

Two juicy plump pale globes bounced free from the restraining hold the thong had placed around it. Admiring their pertness, the spy pulled the thong down over her thighs snapping the delicate straps at the side until the flimsy material came away in his hands. He tossed it to the floor and cupped the side of her rump.

“Open your legs,” he commanded squeezing it painfully tight.

When she refused he bent his head to examine her pouting vagina. Slipping his deft fingers between her thighs he found the small bud protruding her labia and squeezed it. She gasped and a tell tale trickle of moisture sluiced his fingers making him grin. So the suspect liked to be firmly handled. He raised his hand and softly curved it before spanking her pussy hard to encourage her to move, careful to catch the tip of the clit.

The girl yelped and he repeated the action and his order.

“Open your legs, now.”

The second whip of his palm across her vulva, a little harder this time induced her to spread her legs.

“Move away from the wall and bend over.”

Now her legs were open it was difficult for her to move and it would keep her restrained. With his help she managed to move away from the wall but she refused to bend over and he was forced to slap her pussy one more time. She obeyed quickly and when he removed his hand he could see it was damp with arousal.

Holding her hands behind her back, Dylan decided she was ready for the first part of her interrogation, a spanking.

“I don’t like being bitten, Gemma. Nor do I like getting blood on my shirt. You deserve to be taken to task for it,” he told her with humour.

“You are going to spank me like a child,” she retorted.

“Yes. I am.”

“What? Ow.”

He delivered the first slap to the right buttock enjoying the way it jumped and quivered with the force he used. He struck the left just a touch harder making her howl before picking up the pace.

“Where is Jonas?” Dylan demanded above the sound of her flesh being smacked echoing around the small room.

He stood over her curved form strongly spanking her bare bottom, each blow reddening her buttocks until they burned and stung with an artful swing of his hand. Each strike lifted her blushed bottom in to the air with increasing force when she refused to answer him.

“We will find him. If you tell me now I can save his life. Do you want him to die, Gemma? I thought you loved him.”

Another slap rained down upon her, this time on the tender backs of her thighs. Dylan had noticed she had been biting her lip to steel herself but now she opened her mouth and let out a loud sob. The tears she had been defiantly holding back spilled from her eyes to run in a torrent down her cheeks.

“I won’t tell you,” she shouted.

Dylan whipped his hand neatly across the back of one thigh making her howl like a baby.

“But you know where he is. That’s a start.”

“He is going to kill that man and stop the animal experimentation. People will listen then.”

“Tell me where he is.”

Dylan glanced down at her red thighs and bottom. She wasn’t giving anything up yet and it appeared she needed further persuasion of a more firm kind. If he continued to spank her he wouldn’t be able to apply any other method to interrogate her with. He wasn’t a cruel man, only when he needed to be.

The spy gave his prisoner one more slap across her bottom and ended her spanking. For his own curiosity, he moved his hand across her sex and to his satisfaction found her soaking wet. Despite her cries of pain the woman was deeply aroused by her punishment. He could use this to his advantage.

Laying his palm on her flesh he rubbed one mound to soothe the burning.

“I am going to take you in and we are going to discuss this further,” he told her. “You will tell me. It is just a matter of time.”

He ignored her cursing and lowered her arms keeping hold of one. Quickly he dipped his tall frame and lifted her neatly over his shoulder preventing her from her fist making contact with his face.

The spy had carried his prisoner to the car half naked. The act designed to weaken her will. Neighbors looked out of their windows and up from their gardening shocked to see her fiery red bottom on public display. He was satisfied when she began to whimper with her embarrassment.

Depositing her in the back of the car he leaned over her and took hold of the dress at the front to brutally tear and rip it from her body. To his surprise the girl barely protested and as he stripped her naked she let out a pleasured gasp.

The man sitting in the driver’s seat grinned and turned around to admire Blake’s handiwork sweeping his eyes over the prisoners voluptuous naked breasts as Dylan undid the catch of the girl’s bra and pulled it down her arms allowing them to bob free from their confinement.

“Did she talk?” the man asked him.

“No but she will.”

“I love watching you work,” he grinned again.

“Spread your legs, Gemma,” Dylan ordered giving her large breasts a couple of expert slaps to encourage her obedience. She took a breath and arched her body forward to meet the third quick strike to her left breast apparently eager for more chastisement. Dylan smiled to himself. He had her just were he wanted. Aroused and pliant. He would manipulate this to his advantage in the interrogation. As if to prolong the punishment she kept her legs closed prompting another slap. Dylan watched her breast flush with the strike and wobble deliciously from side to side.

“That girl needs a pussy whipping,” the driver encouraged. “She will learn to be obedient at the centre. Lets go.”

Dylan decided to oblige his colleague. Quickly he cupped Gemma’s sex and squeezed it hard and then pushed the lips together tightly. He did it once more making her moan as the pink fleshy wet mounds rubbed against each other. Involuntarily she opened her legs taken with the pleasure, unable to help herself. The moment she spread her legs Dylan raised his hand and whipped her sex with his palm four times hard. The girl never closed her legs again.

His hand was wet with her creamy juice when he moved it away to place her hands behind her back and the seatbelt between her blushed breasts. He’d sat in the back of the car as it drove through the London traffic watching the way she rubbed her wet pussy across the black leather dampening it to ease the ache dwelling in her sex. Her labial lips were heavy and swollen and her nipples were taut with their erectness. His fingers twitched to stroke her damp vulva, play a little but he remained still and cold until the car dipped down the ramp to the underground building in Interdefense’s London office. Loosening her seatbelt he’d pulled her back over his shoulder and carried her in to the building and straight to one of the interrogation cells where he’d arranged her in the spreader bar.

It was his first intention to take the bullwhip to her bottom after she’d still refused to answer his questions but now he believed a stronger method was needed. Convinced of the correct size of plug he would need to use to fit in her exposed anus, he put down the whip and covered his hands in a pair of latex gloves before coating his middle finger in lubricant. Time to get her stretched.

Dylan plied open her buttocks a little more so that the girl felt uncomfortable and then holding the cheeks painfully spread, he circled his wet finger around her hole. The girl cried. The hole appeared tight and virginal.

“Please, what are you doing?” she panted with anxiety.

“A quick examination of your anus. Has a man ever taken you here?”

“No. I’ve never . . .”

“Then this will be a new experience for you. If you don’t want me to proceed tell me where Jonas is?”

His English voice was formal and perfect in its delivery of the threat and more than adequately sinister.


Dylan didn’t ask her anymore. He circled the dark puckered entrance thickly sluicing it with lubricant. Then he began to ease his middle finger in to the tight hole. The girl gasped but said nothing. He felt her frame tighten and rubbed his latex hand over one globe as though to soothe and eased his finger in deeper forcing the cavern walls of her anus to stretch and accommodate his invasion. Again she whimpered but said nothing allowing him to go further. He wasn’t quite at the hilt but with a sudden sharp wet thrust he embedded his finger making her body jolt on the bar. The cry she gave was of surprise but was also tinged with a renewed arousal.

Dylan simply held his finger there for a moment allowing her to get used to his dominance guiding her in to surrender but the girl was stubborn and remained silent. With a tinge of cruelty he began to thrust his finger in and out of her body forcing the channel to stretch and widen to accommodate the enema tubing and the plug he would insert to force her to hold the warm water he pumped in to her stomach.

“Ok, Gemma, you leave me no choice.”

Dylan removed his finger quickly brushing her sex to check if she had dampened further and found he was correct. She was a natural submissive and was obviously used to a firm hand from Jonas. He needed to push her boundaries. Anal penetration was the best way to start and he was doubtful she had experienced the dual pleasure pain of an enema. It could be her undoing.

He turned to the large mirror in the room knowing his colleagues were behind it viewing the whole interrogation.

“Prepare an enema,” he instructed removing his gloves with a snapping motion.

Gemma cried.

“No, please.”

Dylan leaned over her and softly cupped his hand over her sex from behind. Once more he squeezed it and caressed the small bud, kneading it between his fingers, tugging it back and forth until her cries turned in to moans.

“Have you ever had an enema before, Gemma?” he asked gently.


“Well, I insert a tube in to your bottom. The warm water flows along the tube in to your anus and through to your stomach. Your abdomen will swell with water until you feel as though you are carrying a child full term. Then the pain will start. Some women are deeply aroused by the pain when they are made to hold the water inside their body for a while. Others beg for release. I like to plug the anus to force the person to retain the fluid. I wonder how long I can force you to endure the discomfort. Perhaps I will until you tell me of Jonas’s whereabouts,” he told her in a dark whisper.

He only heard small cries of fear in between the moans as he continued to caress her pussy teasing her by circling the entrance of her channel but never penetrating it with his finger.

“Please don’t.”

“Tell me where he is.”

“I can’t. I can’t betray him.”

“Yes you can. He is a murderer. You aren’t. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in jail for helping him?”


“Then tell me where he is,” Dylan persisted keeping a tight rein on his impatience.

“I can’t,” she suddenly sobbed.

“Then you will take the enema,” he said glancing up at a man bringing the prepared enema in to the room and a stand to hold the bag. “When your stomach is cramping you will want to tell me.”

Dylan put on a fresh pair of latex gloves and coated his fingers in the lubricant once more along with the end of the tube. The girl sobbed as he prepared it. Taking the tube from the assistant he stretched open the small anal hole and began feeding the tube in to her bottom. She moaned and tried to rear bucking her bottom backwards in an attempt to expel the tube making Dylan increase the speed with which he used to push it inside her. Holding her down with one hand to keep her in place, the spy turned the valve on the tube to allow the water to flow from the soft plastic holder resembling a small hot water bottle hooked on a stand like a drip.

The water coursed fast along the tube up inside her anus in to the girl’s stomach to flood her colon and begin the cleansing process. She gasped feeling the warm water begin to fill her insides. Dylan loved giving enemas to a submissive woman. It was the ultimate way to dominate her. He slipped his hands between her legs and up to her stomach intoxicated by the way her it was swelling and enlarging in to his palm. She was completely in his power. He lightly caressed the surface.

“Good girl, take it all,” he cooed.

Eventually he determined she had taken sufficient water and turned off the valve. His assistant had gloved his hands and handed him a steel butt plug lathed in lubricant. It was large and would pull open the small entrance causing Gemma to experience a new sense of discomfort and to feel unbearably full. He wondered if it would bring more pleasure for her.

Dylan pressed the cool tip of the plug at Gemma’s anal entrance and circled it allowing her to anticipate the insertion. She bleated a little but still did not answer his question about Jonas. Dylan carefully penetrated her entrance with the plug and pushed it inside. She moaned and tried to rear again but he persisted watching the small hole stretch and widen to accept it. When the plug was deeply embedded he stood back and took off his gloves. Gemma was beginning to groan with pain. The cramps from the fluid had come quickly. It was time to get the information he needed.

The assistant left the room and Dylan scraped a solitary chair across the floor to the bottom end of the bed to face Gemma’s bottom. He sat down and waited.

“Those cramps are only going to increase, Gemma,” he said in a matter of a fact crisp English tone watching her move restlessly on her bindings in a futile attempt to free herself. “You will endure them until you give me the information I need.”

“I can’t betray him.”

“Why not? He doesn’t care for you, Gemma. He isn’t here trying to rescue you. He is probably in bed with one of the many women he fucks every night while you wait at home for him. We know he likes to fuck when he’s killed someone. It was the first thing he did when he murdered that girl who crossed him. He isn’t a fighter for your cause. He has form and he likes the thrill of killing. He is going to kill Paul Strand for the leader of your group for money. He is just a hired assassin. He has been fooling you that he cares about your cause.”

“You are lying.”

“You know I’m not. You’ve been fooling yourself because you love him.”

“Please I have to go to the bathroom and release this water.”

“No, you can’t. Hold it.”

“I can’t.”

“Then tell me where Jonas is?”

“Please,” she screamed.

Dylan stood and held her stomach again pressing it down to increase her discomfort. At the same time his free hand pressed down on the plug. The girl sobbed uncontrollably.

“Tell me.”

The girl moved from side to side. Dylan pressed harder as she cried out.

“He is at a flat in Tremayne street preparing to shoot the Minister when he makes his speech in the Guildhall tonight about the medical advancement of the new cancer drug.”

“What number?”

“44. Now please.”

“Not yet. You’ve been a good girl,” he said moving his hand from her stomach to her pussy to stroke her clit allowing pleasure to war with the cramp for supremacy in her mind. “You deserve a reward.”

Dylan glanced at the mirror and nodded knowing agents would have already been sent to arrest Jonas the moment the girl gave the information. He inserted his finger inside her heavily damp pussy and pulsed it in and out. Her cries turned to helpless confused moans. Now she was plugged in every orifice apart from her mouth. Feeling her begin to buck down on to his finger he curled it inside her velvet soft channel until it hit the rough back wall of her vagina and forced her orgasm to erupt. Rocking on his fingers whimpering and sobbing trapped in the pleasure pain paradox the prisoner came hard to Dylan’s satisfaction. As soon as her exhausted tortured pants ended he undid her wrists and ankles. Carefully he allowed her to sit up and called for an assistant to take her to the bathroom.

He smiled when his boss, Tina Andrews came in to the room.

“Well done,” the older woman said.

Dylan nodded with respect and walked to the sink on the other side of the room away from the mirror to wash his hands.

“I have another job for you in Venice.” Thought Catalog Logo Mark

I’m a serial tea drinker living in the leafy suburbs of London, where I work on my novels while Murder She Wrote and crazy syfy movies play in the background on TV.

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