The girl shook her head, her short, dark hair flicking to and fro across her face so that strands stuck uncomfortably to her sweating skin. She didn’t try and move them away because she couldn’t; the white nylon tie on her wrists ensured that her arms remained securely behind her back.
The interrogator watched her. He smiled as he saw the way she bit her lip, flicking glances round the room, trying to peer into the darkness beyond the blazing spot lamps. His smile broadened as he noticed how she avoided looking at the oddly angled wooden bars next to her.
‘Welcome, Leila, we’ve been expecting you.’ The girl started violently as his soft, quiet voice reached her from the darkness. ‘I suppose your friends have told you stories about what we do to young girls here… especially those who get involved in spying.’ The unseen voice paused, ‘I’m afraid to say that most of them are quite true… as you are about to find out…’
The girl shook her head frantically, bare feet scuffling on the painted concrete floor, her tears leaving wet streaks down her red cotton dress. ‘I d-d-d-didn’t do anyt-t-t-thing. Please, please don’t hurt me, please…’
‘It’s too late to be sorry now…. It’s time for you to meet Halima, my assistant…’ a soft pause then a sinister chuckle from the darkness, ‘she provides that… feminine touch… to our work.’ Leila whirled round as an Arab woman dressed in close fitting white tee shirt and short, black skirt walked out of the darkness. She smiled as she stroked Leila’s shoulder, fingertips just tracing the soft swell of the girl’s breast beneath the red dress. Leila shuddered as she saw the hot, eager cruelty in the woman’s eyes.
‘What are you going to do to me? I promise I will be good, next time, I promise, please, please!’ Leila was almost gabbling as she strained forwards, leaning towards the voice from the darkness. The woman held her arms, pulling her back gently to stand, biting at her lower lip, in the centre of the room.
‘Ah, promises, promises… well, you are about to find out that I always keep my promises. I said you would find out what we do to spies, and so you shall.’ He let the silence and the awful expectation grow. ‘Halima, the wrist tie if you please. Our young friend is going to need her hands….’ Swiftly, the woman cut the nylon strap. Leila gasped in relief, as she was able to bring her arms forwards, rubbing her wrists and wincing at the sudden throb of returning circulation.
‘Now, Leila, in a moment we will want you up on those bars behind you.’ Leila twisted to look at the two stained, wooden bars facing the lights. Mounted on thick posts and forming a flat open ‘V’, at the front the two posts were set almost a metre apart. From there the bars angled in sharply to the two rear posts, set so close there was barely a hand span between them. Each bar was only about eighteen inches long, and the young student trembled uncontrollably as she took in the ominous dark staining of the wood, the soft, leather straps, and the way the thick uprights were bolted to the floor with iron brackets. The Arab woman smiled at the horrified expression on the girl’s face and gently turned her round, deliberately forcing her to face into the blinding lights once more.
The Interrogator’s soft, calm voice continued. ‘But first it’s time for you to get undressed… completely, if you please.’ Leila clutched at her body, holding the fabric of her red cotton dress closely as she shook her head.
‘No, please, don’t make me, I’ve promised I’ll do whatever you want.’
‘I know you will,’ came a sinister chuckle from behind the lights. ’And what I want you to do now, is for you to follow my orders, my dear and get undressed. Now, will you remove your clothes all by yourself, or must I order the guards to do it for you?’ Leila looked round desperately, but knew she had no choice. Slowly, she undid her belt and then the long line of buttons down the front of her dress. Finally, she slipped the garment off her shoulders and stood, clutching it against her naked breasts.
Silence fell for a few moments; the Interrogator and Halima both enjoying the sight of the nineteen-year-old girl’s shapely, tanned body now revealed to them. Leila’s large breasts were firm enough to allow her to dispense with the support of a bra and her only remaining clothing was a minute, white thong cupping the plump mound of her sex, the waistband riding high across smooth curve of her hips.
In the glare of the lights, the Interrogator was able to see that there was a faint patch of darker shadow on the taut white silk. Whatever she might be saying, Leila’s own body was betraying her with the moisture of unwilling arousal.
‘I said everything, my dear… we need you to be completely naked,’ came the soft, insistent voice from the shadows. Leila started wildly as the woman reached across, taking the dress from her unresisting hands.
‘Now!’ came the order, like the soft lash of a whip. Leila brought her hands reluctantly across, hooking her fingers under the thin waistband and peeling the damp silken triangle away from her sex and down her slim legs until she could step out of the minute scrap of cloth. Like many women in hot countries, she had shaved her body hair completely and the hidden watchers could see the firm bulge of her mound and the full lips of her cunt as she stepped away from the tiny scrap of fabric. ‘Thank you… now, Halima, if you please…’

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