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Imprisonment and Execution in Modern Singapore Part III of Barb's Singapore Saga

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The denial that she flirted with the men and that the drugs were hers both were a little strange.

Now what new twist, or blind alley, have you cooked up here?

Amanda arrested? Complains? Misbehaves? Gets caned? A prisoner dies in unknown circumstances? Tried for murder? Guilty? Condemned? Surely, this is such an unbelievable story, no-one would want to read it?
 
Barbara Gets Back to Work

Empat Puluh Enam

Commandant’s Office, Changi Prison, Monday, Late Afternoon

Barbara was led, crawling on her hands and knees, into the Commandant’s Office. Mamat bin Osman was sitting at his desk, finishing his last paperwork for the day. Naturally, he did not bother to rise.
After a minute, he spoke without looking up. “You noticed that you were not hooded on the walk here, Miss Moore?”
“Yes, Thank You!” Barb replied. She had not thought of it until he raised it. She had come to hate the hood as much as any of the everyday horrors of the prison.
“Thanks and courtesy is always acceptable from a prisoner. However, I point it out not, that it was omitted as a kindness to you, but rather as I ordered it so that your face and hair would be more presentable. You, a condemned murderer matter not at all here. Except when you can be useful. Remember that.” Here he looked up at the woman, on all fours, leashed, on the office carpet, like a dog. “You may stand.”
Barbara stood. “Inspection stance.” His tone of command was softer and gentler than what the guards used when they ordered this. But it seemed even more imperative. Barbara spread her feet and raised her shift over her head with her hands, presenting her naked body for his gaze.

“Tonight, you will begin another phase of working here at Changi. A special “friend” of mine is in my study. He would like to get to know you better. You will go in there and doing anything he wants. It means a lot of money to us. If you hesitate or refuse, you will be severely punished afterward. Do you understand?”
“No, please don’t make me do this. I’m not a whore.”
With the shift over her face, Barbara did not see Mamat nod to Lim Hua-Upp, who stood just to her left with his truncheon at the ready. With no warning, he snapped it flat into her left kidney. Barbara cried out and collapsed on her knees, leaning to her side.
The Commandant waited twenty seconds while Barb groaned in pain. Then that same soft command: “Inspection Stance.” The words and tone carried a terrifying threat. Barbara struggled to her feet and assumed the position, still breathing hard to manage the deep pain in her back.
“I thought we have already explained to you the consequences of anything other than instant obedience, Miss Moore. Am I mistaken Hua-Upp? I worry that your guards may feel sorry for her. I wouldn't want you to be - what is that word the English use? Oh yes, mollycoddle. I wouldn't want you to be mollycoddling her." ”
“No, Commandant.”
“Again, whore? Will you do anything my guest wants without hesitation?”
“Yes, Sir.” She choked out between groans.
“And are you a dirty, cheap, whore, Barbara Ann Moore?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say what you are.”
“I’m a dirty, cheap, whore, Sir.” Barbara sobbed at the combination of the pain and degradation.
“Better. Lim, unshackle the bitch, and take her into the study.”
As they were leading her out of the office, the Commandant added, “By the way, there are cameras recording in there, so I will see if you do not cooperate enthusiastically. They will record every filthy thing you do, Moore. And that will make me more money.”

Cell 22, Death Row, Changi Prison, Monday 11:30 PM
Barb curled up on her mat and hugged herself for all she was worth. She couldn’t stop shivering and recalling the pain and mental degradation of the last several hours.
The Commandant’s ‘friend,’ proved to be a young Chinese man who introduced himself as An. He was well-spoken and clean and very good-looking. Barbara had hopes that this would not be too bad.
But she was very sadly mistaken. An spoke with the gentle voice of the highly-educated Chinese. But he soon showed that he was far more interested in shaming and hurting a woman, than in making love.
He hurt Barbara casually and repeatedly. Over and over, he found new parts of her body to abuse and torment and debase. He ordered her into positions and actions that revolted Moore. He was slow and methodical; he extended each insult and shame until she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. As he did so, he quietly taunted her, celebrating her pain, dragging her through an emotional mire. How he used her body seemed to be the precise opposite of sex and love. He wanted to make her cry. And he succeeded very well.
Barb was astonished that one man could get inside her head so well and twist and torture her soul as well as her body. How could he hate women enough to inflict this much cruelty? In some ways, the experience was almost as bad as the caning.
Afterward, Lim came and re-shackled her and led her back on all fours to her cell. Still bound and collared, Barb’s leash allowed her just enough slack to reach the commode.
Sobbing uncontrollably, her mind replaying the dirt she had been dragged through, Barbara took a long time to fall asleep. Several times she awoke during the night, screaming as she dreamed An was asking to use her again.

393 New Bridge Rd, Central Narcotics Bureau, Tuesday, April 2nd, 8:20 AM

Frost walked from his office to the CNB to meet his colleague from the Parliamentary Guards. It was a very short walk since the CNB occupied a different wing on the same complex as the Central Police Station.

At precisely 8:20, as agreed, Musa bin Ibrahim joined him. After a polite greeting, Musa said, “The autopsy report is in. I’ve emailed you a copy. No surprise, Jimmy Rogers died of a heart attack. The medical examiner said that dissecting his arteries was like wading in a tub of lard!”
“Good riddance! Now let’s see how much cooperation we get from his grieving peers.”

They entered the building. An interview was scheduled for 8:30 with Sergeant Xiu Ying Hoa, who was from the same division as Rogers and Jiang. He ushered them into his office with a distinct air of condescension, saw them seated, and offered coffee. Musa noted with disgust the sloppy condition of the desk, with pools of spilled coffee left uncleaned. Then Xiu Ying sat behind his desk, tented his fingers, smiled contentedly, and said, “What may I do for you, gentlemen.”

Frost took the lead, “You are aware of the rape committed by two members of the CNB, yesterday in Parliamentary Square?”
“We have heard of the unfortunate incident that occurred. It is regrettable that the young lady was injured during the legitimate questioning by our agents.”
“Injured? She was taken to hospital with serious injuries from a beating while already cuffed and restrained. She was stripped naked!”
“Please, please,” said Xiu Ying in a voice dripping with pity for the ignorance of his listener. “We need not exaggerate what happened. Remember, the Bureau also suffered a loss yesterday. Much more serious than a few minor bruises to a drug-dealing slut. We lost a valued, long-term agent. These interrogations would go so much better if the suspects were to cooperate and not make the agents’ job so difficult. However, these scum never seem to learn. And, besides, who is to say the agents stripped her. More likely, the slut bared herself to try to seduce our men.”
“They beat a small nineteen-year-old girl to a pulp, stripped her naked and raped her!”
“Again, you are making some unfounded assumptions. The whore might well have asked for a shag. For those not used to dealing with hardened, violent drug-dealers daily, the minor injuries she suffered may seem over the line, but you must understand that we are authorized to use unique methods here.”
Frost was about to blow his top all over the messy office. However, he forced himself to return to their purpose for being there.
“That is your point of view, Sergeant. Whatever your standards, we need to investigate this incident. May we please see the two agents’ desks and files?”
“I’m afraid that we do not allow outsiders (his disdain using the word outsiders dripped down and formed a large puddle on the floor) such access.” Frost, recognizing the inevitable obstruction, said nothing.

Bin Ibrahim spoke up for the first time. He pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to Xiu Ying. “Sergeant, here is a warrant issued by the Parliamentary Criminal Court, authorizing us to conduct a search as DI Frost requested,” he said. His tone expected instant cooperation. Frost shook his head. The boy had a lot to learn, it seemed. He realized he was paired with a naive idealist.
Xiu Ying glanced at the paper for an instant and then tossed it dismissively onto his desk, where it landed in some spilled coffee.
“I do not feel bound by the orders of some court.”
Frost, sighed in despair and rose to leave.
 
Barbara Gets Back to Work

Empat Puluh Enam

Commandant’s Office, Changi Prison, Monday, Late Afternoon

Barbara was led, crawling on her hands and knees, into the Commandant’s Office. Mamat bin Osman was sitting at his desk, finishing his last paperwork for the day. Naturally, he did not bother to rise.
After a minute, he spoke without looking up. “You noticed that you were not hooded on the walk here, Miss Moore?”
“Yes, Thank You!” Barb replied. She had not thought of it until he raised it. She had come to hate the hood as much as any of the everyday horrors of the prison.
“Thanks and courtesy is always acceptable from a prisoner. However, I point it out not, that it was omitted as a kindness to you, but rather as I ordered it so that your face and hair would be more presentable. You, a condemned murderer matter not at all here. Except when you can be useful. Remember that.” Here he looked up at the woman, on all fours, leashed, on the office carpet, like a dog. “You may stand.”
Barbara stood. “Inspection stance.” His tone of command was softer and gentler than what the guards used when they ordered this. But it seemed even more imperative. Barbara spread her feet and raised her shift over her head with her hands, presenting her naked body for his gaze.

“Tonight, you will begin another phase of working here at Changi. A special “friend” of mine is in my study. He would like to get to know you better. You will go in there and doing anything he wants. It means a lot of money to us. If you hesitate or refuse, you will be severely punished afterward. Do you understand?”
“No, please don’t make me do this. I’m not a whore.”
With the shift over her face, Barbara did not see Mamat nod to Lim Hua-Upp, who stood just to her left with his truncheon at the ready. With no warning, he snapped it flat into her left kidney. Barbara cried out and collapsed on her knees, leaning to her side.
The Commandant waited twenty seconds while Barb groaned in pain. Then that same soft command: “Inspection Stance.” The words and tone carried a terrifying threat. Barbara struggled to her feet and assumed the position, still breathing hard to manage the deep pain in her back.
“I thought we have already explained to you the consequences of anything other than instant obedience, Miss Moore. Am I mistaken Hua-Upp? I worry that your guards may feel sorry for her. I wouldn't want you to be - what is that word the English use? Oh yes, mollycoddle. I wouldn't want you to be mollycoddling her." ”
“No, Commandant.”
“Again, whore? Will you do anything my guest wants without hesitation?”
“Yes, Sir.” She choked out between groans.
“And are you a dirty, cheap, whore, Barbara Ann Moore?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say what you are.”
“I’m a dirty, cheap, whore, Sir.” Barbara sobbed at the combination of the pain and degradation.
“Better. Lim, unshackle the bitch, and take her into the study.”
As they were leading her out of the office, the Commandant added, “By the way, there are cameras recording in there, so I will see if you do not cooperate enthusiastically. They will record every filthy thing you do, Moore. And that will make me more money.”

Cell 22, Death Row, Changi Prison, Monday 11:30 PM
Barb curled up on her mat and hugged herself for all she was worth. She couldn’t stop shivering and recalling the pain and mental degradation of the last several hours.
The Commandant’s ‘friend,’ proved to be a young Chinese man who introduced himself as An. He was well-spoken and clean and very good-looking. Barbara had hopes that this would not be too bad.
But she was very sadly mistaken. An spoke with the gentle voice of the highly-educated Chinese. But he soon showed that he was far more interested in shaming and hurting a woman, than in making love.
He hurt Barbara casually and repeatedly. Over and over, he found new parts of her body to abuse and torment and debase. He ordered her into positions and actions that revolted Moore. He was slow and methodical; he extended each insult and shame until she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. As he did so, he quietly taunted her, celebrating her pain, dragging her through an emotional mire. How he used her body seemed to be the precise opposite of sex and love. He wanted to make her cry. And he succeeded very well.
Barb was astonished that one man could get inside her head so well and twist and torture her soul as well as her body. How could he hate women enough to inflict this much cruelty? In some ways, the experience was almost as bad as the caning.
Afterward, Lim came and re-shackled her and led her back on all fours to her cell. Still bound and collared, Barb’s leash allowed her just enough slack to reach the commode.
Sobbing uncontrollably, her mind replaying the dirt she had been dragged through, Barbara took a long time to fall asleep. Several times she awoke during the night, screaming as she dreamed An was asking to use her again.

393 New Bridge Rd, Central Narcotics Bureau, Tuesday, April 2nd, 8:20 AM

Frost walked from his office to the CNB to meet his colleague from the Parliamentary Guards. It was a very short walk since the CNB occupied a different wing on the same complex as the Central Police Station.

At precisely 8:20, as agreed, Musa bin Ibrahim joined him. After a polite greeting, Musa said, “The autopsy report is in. I’ve emailed you a copy. No surprise, Jimmy Rogers died of a heart attack. The medical examiner said that dissecting his arteries was like wading in a tub of lard!”
“Good riddance! Now let’s see how much cooperation we get from his grieving peers.”

They entered the building. An interview was scheduled for 8:30 with Sergeant Xiu Ying Hoa, who was from the same division as Rogers and Jiang. He ushered them into his office with a distinct air of condescension, saw them seated, and offered coffee. Musa noted with disgust the sloppy condition of the desk, with pools of spilled coffee left uncleaned. Then Xiu Ying sat behind his desk, tented his fingers, smiled contentedly, and said, “What may I do for you, gentlemen.”

Frost took the lead, “You are aware of the rape committed by two members of the CNB, yesterday in Parliamentary Square?”
“We have heard of the unfortunate incident that occurred. It is regrettable that the young lady was injured during the legitimate questioning by our agents.”
“Injured? She was taken to hospital with serious injuries from a beating while already cuffed and restrained. She was stripped naked!”
“Please, please,” said Xiu Ying in a voice dripping with pity for the ignorance of his listener. “We need not exaggerate what happened. Remember, the Bureau also suffered a loss yesterday. Much more serious than a few minor bruises to a drug-dealing slut. We lost a valued, long-term agent. These interrogations would go so much better if the suspects were to cooperate and not make the agents’ job so difficult. However, these scum never seem to learn. And, besides, who is to say the agents stripped her. More likely, the slut bared herself to try to seduce our men.”
“They beat a small nineteen-year-old girl to a pulp, stripped her naked and raped her!”
“Again, you are making some unfounded assumptions. The whore might well have asked for a shag. For those not used to dealing with hardened, violent drug-dealers daily, the minor injuries she suffered may seem over the line, but you must understand that we are authorized to use unique methods here.”
Frost was about to blow his top all over the messy office. However, he forced himself to return to their purpose for being there.
“That is your point of view, Sergeant. Whatever your standards, we need to investigate this incident. May we please see the two agents’ desks and files?”
“I’m afraid that we do not allow outsiders (his disdain using the word outsiders dripped down and formed a large puddle on the floor) such access.” Frost, recognizing the inevitable obstruction, said nothing.

Bin Ibrahim spoke up for the first time. He pulled a document from his briefcase and handed it to Xiu Ying. “Sergeant, here is a warrant issued by the Parliamentary Criminal Court, authorizing us to conduct a search as DI Frost requested,” he said. His tone expected instant cooperation. Frost shook his head. The boy had a lot to learn, it seemed. He realized he was paired with a naive idealist.
Xiu Ying glanced at the paper for an instant and then tossed it dismissively onto his desk, where it landed in some spilled coffee.
“I do not feel bound by the orders of some court.”
Frost, sighed in despair and rose to leave.
Poor Barb ... how bad must the session with the "young, good-looking Chinese guy" have been? When you think about everything that Barb has been through, for her time with the monster to leave her in such and obviously subjugated manner means that what happened must have been extremely traumatic! My imagination is working overtime ...

... And Amanda's innocence, coupled with her 'status' as a victim of a heinous assault is by no means certain!

This story just keeps on giving - great stuff PrPr
 
Dear readers. Some of you have communicated privately with concerns that I have the authorities "going easy" on Barbara in prison. That I have them "pull their punches." One reader after today's post was so dissatisfied as to state that I was "Mollycoddling Moore." Besides the fact that I hate the expression "Mollycoddling Moore." I also think I have had her suffer rather well so far.
However, for those who have this concern - changes are coming. I think you will find the next chapter, I plumb new depths in the degradation of the girl. Hang on and have your barf-bags handy!:firedevil:
 
Empat Puluh Enam

Central Narcotics Bureau, Tuesday, April 2nd, 8:55 AM

Xiu Ying glanced at the paper for an instant and then tossed it dismissively onto his desk, where it landed in some spilled coffee.
“I do not feel bound by the orders of some court.”
Frost sighed in despair and rose to leave.
Musa rose also. However, instead of turning to leave, he calmly walked around the desk to where Xiu Ying sat. The Sergeant looked up at him, surprised. “What are…”
Before Xiu Ying could get the words out, Musa bent over, grabbed him by his suit lapels, and lifted him off the ground. He brought their faces close together and spoke barely above a whisper.
“You will show respect for the Parliament, its Courts and its Guards. If you do not, I will rip your balls off and feed them to you.”
He threw the man back into his chair, shattering it to sticks. Xiu Ying fell heavily to the floor. He struggled to regain his feet, his face as white as a sheet.

Musa bent over, his face close to Xiu Ying, who was still on his knees, and grabbed his tie, yanking it up to raise his face. The Inspector’s voice was still a whisper. “The head of the Parliamentary Security Committee has instructed the Commissioner of the CNB to cooperate fully. We expect you to do so. If you do not, I am authorized to take you to the Parliamentary Guard Headquarters and conduct an interrogation there. We are well aware of the standard questioning techniques of the CNB. Frankly, our interrogators find them crude and ineffective. I swear to you, my men will have you crying like a baby within ten minutes. And they won’t even ask you a question for another ten after that. By the time I’m ready to ask you questions, you will be begging to tell us your deepest, darkest secrets.” He released his grip on the tie and pushed the trembling man back to the floor.
“Now. Will you show us to those desks and files?”
“Yes, yes. Sorry that I misunderstood. You can see anything you want.” The Sergeant struggled to his feet and led them out to another office. Frost noted that he had a large dark stain on his trousers.

US Embassy, Singapore, Tuesday, 9:00 AM

Jeffrey Hodges was trying to function even while deep in despair and guilt. Of course, he had no way of anticipating that Jimmy Rogers would waylay, beat, and rape her. There was no way he could have known that the brief, therefore, would not get to the court in time. But he knew that if he had taken it, rather than Amanda, his perky, sweet intern would be her usual cheery self, looking forward to this afternoon's hearing, and he knew the brief would have been delivered.
He had sent the precious brief this morning by messager (with two armed guards) to the court with a letter explaining the happenings of the day before. But the messenger had returned and reported that the court clerks had read the letter, but still refused to accept a late filing.
The hearing was at two. Jeffrey was panicking. He had no idea what he would say.

Attorney General’s Chambers, Singapore, 10:00 AM
Lee Cher Leng sat comfortably in his desk chair, with William Koh sitting across the desk. Lee was laughing uproariously. Koh joined in, but without the full enthusiasm of his supervisor. Lee had just made a particularly nasty remark about the rape of Amanda Jones. Both men had seen her at Barbara Moore’s caning reception, and, as most men, immediately lusted after her. Watching Lieutenant Rogers almost fuck her at the party had reinforced their desire. Thinking of her being stripped and raped by the disgusting Rogers was both arousing and humorous, if you ignored the humanity of the victim. And, naturally, Jimmy’s death, in flagrante delicto, was particularly ironic.

When Lee stopped laughing, William came back to the purpose of the meeting.

“It seems we are prepared for the Appeal Hearing this afternoon?”
“Moore than prepared for Moore,” said Lee, laughing again. The Appeal never had much chance. What judge in Singapore in their right mind would overturn a unanimous judgment led by Justice Betar-Gisber? But now, with no brief filed, Mr. Hodges will be flailing around the courtroom like a fish on a hook.”
“Yes,” said Koh. “But I can’t help but feel it’s a bit unfair. You know, that poor Jones’ rape should screw up Moore’s chances.”
“Fair? The law’s not about fair, Koh. It a street fight where any weapon is allowed, and the only thing that matters is winning. And, if we win this case, both of our careers shall be most favorably impacted. I say, good for those CNB scum getting their rocks off on that cock-teaser! She handed us a win with her over-sexed little body. The only better outcome would be if both of us had a shot at her hot pussy.”

Cell 22, Death Row, Changi Prison, Tuesday 10:10 AM
Finally, at lights out, the guards had removed Barbara’s shackles. They’d left the collar and the leash tied to the wall. Barbara had lain a long time trying to sleep. The memory of the hours with An.
She couldn’t get out of her mind the way the quiet, refined, and high-educated Chinese man harbored such monstrous evil and misogyny. He hadn’t just hurt and degraded her body; he had gotten into her mind and terrified her with his sadism.

Mid-morning, Imran, with two other guards, entered, untied her leash, and gave the usual order, “Inspection Stance.”
For some reason (perhaps the lingering humiliation of the prior evening), the degrading process seemed worse. Barb’s eyes watered with tears.
Then, to her horror, Imran ordered her into the hellish stress position that she suffered through before. Fingers spread on extended arms against the wall, legs back, and spread with a cane under her soles to force her on the balls of her feet. Imran tapped her breasts with his truncheon as a reminder of the consequences of moving.
They drew the cruel hood over her head. Barbara softly pleaded for release.
Imran answered, “So you’d like us to shorten this, not keep it up until every muscle and joint is screaming in pain?”
“Yes, please, sir.”
“Is it OK, if we buttfuck you?”
The casual, obscene suggestion took her back. But she couldn’t stand this position very long. “Yes, sir.”
“Do you want that? Tell me you want it.”
“Yes, sir. I want it.”
“Do you really want it? Beg for it.”
“I’m begging, sir.”
“Make me believe you, slut. Say what it is you are begging for.”
“Please, I beg you, please, fuck me up the ass!”
“If you insist,” Imran said to laughter from the other guards. Barb heard zippers lowered and the rustling of clothes.
“But stay in that position until we finish. I suggest you make it as good for us as you can to speed the process!” Hearty laughter from all save Barb.

Fifteen minutes later, Barbara lay weeping on her mat. Her arms and legs ached, her feet were cramping. Worst was the sore, tearing feeling in her ass, accompanied by the feel of semen oozing out. Imran had ordered her not to wipe it up until he returned and gave her permission.


Cell 22, Death Row, Changi Prison, Tuesday 11:15 AM:
Later, Imran returned with the two guards. “Inspection stance.”
Barb stood, legs spread, feeling the gross discharge trickle down her left thigh.
“Have you wiped yourself, bitch?”
“No, sir,” Barb whimpered.
“Good, show me. Scoop some up.”
Barb stared unbelieving at the man. She couldn’t process such depravity. Imran drew his truncheon and tapped it on his palm, smiling broadly.
Barb gave a deep sob and reached down behind with a hand, scooped some of the slimy mixture, and brought it up to her tormentor.
“Looks good, bitch. Bring it to your face. Look at it, smell it.”
Using every bit of her willpower, Barbara brought her hand close and looked down at the mess, mixed white and brown. The smell, though not very pungent, revolted her with the knowledge of what she was holding.
“OK, slut, you may go clean yourself and rest. You have more work this afternoon.” With that, the guards left her alone.

Central Narcotics Bureau, Tuesday, 1:50 PM

Frost and bin Ibrahim had been digging through the desks and files of Rogers and Jiang for several hours. Both had a desire to make sure that nothing was missed that might shed light on their case. Every paper, every item was scrutinized at least one by each detective. They had sent out for lunch and worked straight through. Now they were coming to an end. A dozen files had been set aside for further reference back at Guards headquarters. Frost turned to bin Ibrahim. “That about wraps it up, I think.”
“Yes, I don’t think there is much more we would find by further review,”
“Let’s sit and talk about our impressions,” said Frost.
“My inclination, precisely!” said Musa with a smile.
 
Powerful stuff,PrPr.
Is Mamat a considerate boss, or is he not into anal sex, seeing he has allowed Imram to use poor Barb`s ass first.
Maybe he is saving Barb for some enthusiastic fellatio! She`ll hate that.
I think that Mamat, like me, does not find the "rear door" the most enticing approach to a beautiful woman. As far as Imran having first shot, you must recall in Singapore II, when Josephine requests a "punishment rape" for Barbara by a dozen guards, that it was mostly very rough double or even triple penetration. Sett captured the moment leading up to the painful second insertion excellently:
1234-josef-pp.jpg
 
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He brought their faces close together and spoke barely above a whisper.
“You will show respect for the Parliament, its Courts and its Guards. If you do not, I will rip your balls off and feed them to you.”
He threw the man back into his chair, shattering it to sticks. Xiu Ying fell heavily to the floor. He struggled to regain his feet, his face as white as a sheet.

My hero!!!!


Imran answered, “So you’d like us to shorten this, not keep it up until every muscle and joint is screaming in pain?”
“Yes, please, sir.”
“Is it OK, if we buttfuck you?”
The casual, obscene suggestion took her back.

My nemesis!!!


Later, Imran returned with the two guards. “Inspection stance.”
Barb stood, legs spread, feeling the gross discharge trickle down her left thigh.
“Have you wiped yourself, bitch?”
“No, sir,” Barb whimpered.
“Good, show me. Scoop some up.”

My word, what next??? :eek:
 
Empat Puluh Enam

Central Narcotics Bureau, Tuesday, April 2nd, 8:55 AM

Xiu Ying glanced at the paper for an instant and then tossed it dismissively onto his desk, where it landed in some spilled coffee.
“I do not feel bound by the orders of some court.”
Frost sighed in despair and rose to leave.
Musa rose also. However, instead of turning to leave, he calmly walked around the desk to where Xiu Ying sat. The Sergeant looked up at him, surprised. “What are…”
Before Xiu Ying could get the words out, Musa bent over, grabbed him by his suit lapels, and lifted him off the ground. He brought their faces close together and spoke barely above a whisper.
“You will show respect for the Parliament, its Courts and its Guards. If you do not, I will rip your balls off and feed them to you.”
He threw the man back into his chair, shattering it to sticks. Xiu Ying fell heavily to the floor. He struggled to regain his feet, his face as white as a sheet.

Musa bent over, his face close to Xiu Ying, who was still on his knees, and grabbed his tie, yanking it up to raise his face. The Inspector’s voice was still a whisper. “The head of the Parliamentary Security Committee has instructed the Commissioner of the CNB to cooperate fully. We expect you to do so. If you do not, I am authorized to take you to the Parliamentary Guard Headquarters and conduct an interrogation there. We are well aware of the standard questioning techniques of the CNB. Frankly, our interrogators find them crude and ineffective. I swear to you, my men will have you crying like a baby within ten minutes. And they won’t even ask you a question for another ten after that. By the time I’m ready to ask you questions, you will be begging to tell us your deepest, darkest secrets.” He released his grip on the tie and pushed the trembling man back to the floor.
“Now. Will you show us to those desks and files?”
“Yes, yes. Sorry that I misunderstood. You can see anything you want.” The Sergeant struggled to his feet and led them out to another office. Frost noted that he had a large dark stain on his trousers.

US Embassy, Singapore, Tuesday, 9:00 AM

Jeffrey Hodges was trying to function even while deep in despair and guilt. Of course, he had no way of anticipating that Jimmy Rogers would waylay, beat, and rape her. There was no way he could have known that the brief, therefore, would not get to the court in time. But he knew that if he had taken it, rather than Amanda, his perky, sweet intern would be her usual cheery self, looking forward to this afternoon's hearing, and he knew the brief would have been delivered.
He had sent the precious brief this morning by messager (with two armed guards) to the court with a letter explaining the happenings of the day before. But the messenger had returned and reported that the court clerks had read the letter, but still refused to accept a late filing.
The hearing was at two. Jeffrey was panicking. He had no idea what he would say.

Attorney General’s Chambers, Singapore, 10:00 AM
Lee Cher Leng sat comfortably in his desk chair, with William Koh sitting across the desk. Lee was laughing uproariously. Koh joined in, but without the full enthusiasm of his supervisor. Lee had just made a particularly nasty remark about the rape of Amanda Jones. Both men had seen her at Barbara Moore’s caning reception, and, as most men, immediately lusted after her. Watching Lieutenant Rogers almost fuck her at the party had reinforced their desire. Thinking of her being stripped and raped by the disgusting Rogers was both arousing and humorous, if you ignored the humanity of the victim. And, naturally, Jimmy’s death, in flagrante delicto, was particularly ironic.

When Lee stopped laughing, William came back to the purpose of the meeting.

“It seems we are prepared for the Appeal Hearing this afternoon?”
“Moore than prepared for Moore,” said Lee, laughing again. The Appeal never had much chance. What judge in Singapore in their right mind would overturn a unanimous judgment led by Justice Betar-Gisber? But now, with no brief filed, Mr. Hodges will be flailing around the courtroom like a fish on a hook.”
“Yes,” said Koh. “But I can’t help but feel it’s a bit unfair. You know, that poor Jones’ rape should screw up Moore’s chances.”
“Fair? The law’s not about fair, Koh. It a street fight where any weapon is allowed, and the only thing that matters is winning. And, if we win this case, both of our careers shall be most favorably impacted. I say, good for those CNB scum getting their rocks off on that cock-teaser! She handed us a win with her over-sexed little body. The only better outcome would be if both of us had a shot at her hot pussy.”

Cell 22, Death Row, Changi Prison, Tuesday 10:10 AM
Finally, at lights out, the guards had removed Barbara’s shackles. They’d left the collar and the leash tied to the wall. Barbara had lain a long time trying to sleep. The memory of the hours with An.
She couldn’t get out of her mind the way the quiet, refined, and high-educated Chinese man harbored such monstrous evil and misogyny. He hadn’t just hurt and degraded her body; he had gotten into her mind and terrified her with his sadism.

Mid-morning, Imran, with two other guards, entered, untied her leash, and gave the usual order, “Inspection Stance.”
For some reason (perhaps the lingering humiliation of the prior evening), the degrading process seemed worse. Barb’s eyes watered with tears.
Then, to her horror, Imran ordered her into the hellish stress position that she suffered through before. Fingers spread on extended arms against the wall, legs back, and spread with a cane under her soles to force her on the balls of her feet. Imran tapped her breasts with his truncheon as a reminder of the consequences of moving.
They drew the cruel hood over her head. Barbara softly pleaded for release.
Imran answered, “So you’d like us to shorten this, not keep it up until every muscle and joint is screaming in pain?”
“Yes, please, sir.”
“Is it OK, if we buttfuck you?”
The casual, obscene suggestion took her back. But she couldn’t stand this position very long. “Yes, sir.”
“Do you want that? Tell me you want it.”
“Yes, sir. I want it.”
“Do you really want it? Beg for it.”
“I’m begging, sir.”
“Make me believe you, slut. Say what it is you are begging for.”
“Please, I beg you, please, fuck me up the ass!”
“If you insist,” Imran said to laughter from the other guards. Barb heard zippers lowered and the rustling of clothes.
“But stay in that position until we finish. I suggest you make it as good for us as you can to speed the process!” Hearty laughter from all save Barb.

Fifteen minutes later, Barbara lay weeping on her mat. Her arms and legs ached, her feet were cramping. Worst was the sore, tearing feeling in her ass, accompanied by the feel of semen oozing out. Imran had ordered her not to wipe it up until he returned and gave her permission.


Cell 22, Death Row, Changi Prison, Tuesday 11:15 AM:
Later, Imran returned with the two guards. “Inspection stance.”
Barb stood, legs spread, feeling the gross discharge trickle down her left thigh.
“Have you wiped yourself, bitch?”
“No, sir,” Barb whimpered.
“Good, show me. Scoop some up.”
Barb stared unbelieving at the man. She couldn’t process such depravity. Imran drew his truncheon and tapped it on his palm, smiling broadly.
Barb gave a deep sob and reached down behind with a hand, scooped some of the slimy mixture, and brought it up to her tormentor.
“Looks good, bitch. Bring it to your face. Look at it, smell it.”
Using every bit of her willpower, Barbara brought her hand close and looked down at the mess, mixed white and brown. The smell, though not very pungent, revolted her with the knowledge of what she was holding.
“OK, slut, you may go clean yourself and rest. You have more work this afternoon.” With that, the guards left her alone.

Central Narcotics Bureau, Tuesday, 1:50 PM

Frost and bin Ibrahim had been digging through the desks and files of Rogers and Jiang for several hours. Both had a desire to make sure that nothing was missed that might shed light on their case. Every paper, every item was scrutinized at least one by each detective. They had sent out for lunch and worked straight through. Now they were coming to an end. A dozen files had been set aside for further reference back at Guards headquarters. Frost turned to bin Ibrahim. “That about wraps it up, I think.”
“Yes, I don’t think there is much more we would find by further review,”
“Let’s sit and talk about our impressions,” said Frost.
“My inclination, precisely!” said Musa with a smile.
Whilst most clearly hoping that the execution element of Barb's sentence is revoked, she is in such a vulnerable, submissive, subservient state that when this is compounded by the second caning I have no idea how she will ever recover from the mental anguish and physical trauma. Poor, poor Barb! Excellent stuff PrPr ...
 
Whilst most clearly hoping that the execution element of Barb's sentence is revoked, she is in such a vulnerable, submissive, subservient state that when this is compounded by the second caning I have no idea how she will ever recover from the mental anguish and physical trauma. Poor, poor Barb! Excellent stuff PrPr ...
Apart from her masochism,the two qualities that personify Barb are feistiness and resilience,so she can recover from almost anything.
 
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