Here we complete Thursday. Next is Friday (caning day!)
Enam Puluh Enam (66)
Deputy Director’s Office, Central Narcotics Bureau, Thursday, 3:45 PM
Williams sat at his desk, shuffling some papers as Sergeant Hoa sat patiently waiting.
“How do you think that went, Sergeant?” asked Keffer without looking up from punching sheets and making a pile.
“Very well, sir. The bitch is terrified now. However, I think we could have gotten a confession today if we’d kept pushing her.”
Williams slipped the new pages into the file he’d had when they were questioning Amanda. “Yes, but I want her ready to admit to anything we want, to implicate her own mother as a heinous criminal if I wanted her too. And,” he looked up and winked at Hoa, “it’s fun toying with her.”
Hoa grinned back. “It is indeed, sir. She’s a pretty young thing. Very tempting morsel.”
“Very Tempting!” said Williams. “What do you think of Amanda’s investigative file?” he said, holding up the inch-thick file.
“God, that’s impressive, sir! I didn’t realize we had that much information on her.”
“We don’t,” smiled Keffer. This is mostly old trash papers, but Amanda won’t know that. I want her to think we have a massively researched dossier on her – more intimidating.”
“That is brilliant, sir! So what’s our next move?”
“As I already ordered, only a little inedible food tonight. Have the guards let her get two hours of sleep. The rest of the night like last. We have three more days with the slut. Tomorrow, same time, same place. By then end of that session, she’ll be begging to confess to anything!”
“Right, Sir,” said Hoa, rubbing his hands together and smiling.
Chief Inspector’s Office, Parliamentary Guards Headquarters, Thursday, 4:05 PM
Musa bin Ibrahim sat at his desk, completing forms. His intercom buzzed:
“DI Frost to see you, sir.”
“Send him right, in”
The older, rumpled detective walked in, carrying his signature fedora.
“Good Afternoon, my friend,” said Musa, rising and shaking his hand. “Caught up on your paperwork?”
“Totally. I found a Sergeant and a Constable without enough to do and gave it all to them.”
“Is that proper procedure? Aren't you required to complete them personally?”
“It works,” said Frost with a wink. “Back to our case, have we made progress with the computer logs?”
“After only five hours? You know there is a limit to our forensic computing resources?”
“Ok, I understand. Give me the bad news.”
“It’s going to take awhile. I have every man available on it, but the files were not designed to provide the answers we want. They were set up for HR to track pay and overtime for a single agent at a time. Also, there is an incredible volume of them. Well over one hundred employees of the CNB with every moment of their work recorded for the last fifteen years.”
“Ok, darling, bottom line. How much have your boys covered do far?”
“I just got an updated estimate” – Musa sifted through papers on his desk and then settled on a yellow Post-it® – “approximately 8% complete.”
“Only 8%! That’s going to take forever!”
“Days, but not forever. The good news is nothing so far of surveillance of Moore.”
“Yes, that is good, not unsurprising, but good. However, it's worthless to prove anything until every record is reviewed.”
“Yes. I have been told that the records are so detailed and complete that there is no way any work would have been done on Moore without showing up in the logs. I’ll keep my men at it until it is finished.”
“I hope Barbara Moore holds out that long.”
“Beyond our control, my friend,” said Musa with a sigh.
OLA Cocina del Mar, Marina District, Thursday, 6:00 PM
Jeffrey rose to greet Dr. Liú. The Chinese doctor looked stunning as usual. However, Hodges felt that she particularly glowed tonight with the slightest flush on her porcelain white skin. He kissed her cheek, and she responded with a long kiss in return.
They sat down and ordered drinks.
Chunhua’s first question derailed Jeffrey’s desire for a light, romantic conversation.
“How is your dear assistant doing? I got a copy of her medical file. She should be out of hospital by now?”
“She’s out, all right. She’s been arrested by the CNB!”
“No!”
Jeffrey proceeded to relate the story of Amanda’s arrest and his being denied access until Monday. Chunhua expressed sorrow and sympathy. She then asked about Barbara’s appeal. Jeffrey expressed his cautious optimism and said he hoped for the decision before the weekend. That, of course, led to a discussion of the caning scheduled for Friday. Chunhua assured Hodges that Barb would survive the flogging, no matter how horrific.
When their food arrived, the two struggled to engage in lighter conversation, but it was forced. Too much pain and suffering was hanging over the minds of both.
Finally, just before the desserts arrived, Dr. Liú broached the subject for which she had asked to meet.
“Jeffrey,” she said, leaning forward and speaking almost a whisper. “I have a message for you from Barbara. What I tell you cannot be traced back to me!”
Hodges leaned forward with sudden curiosity. “I shall never breathe a word to anyone! What is it?”
“Will you come to my place after dinner? We can speak privately there.”
“Of course,” Jeffrey replied. There were, naturally, two reasons for his quick assent.
Holding Cell, Central Narcotics Bureau, Thursday, 6:30 PM
Amanda sat on the edge of her cot, legs up, arms wrapped tightly around, hugging herself and crying softly.
No amount of positive thinking or cheerleader pep had been able to lift the terrible feeling of doom.
Her bag contained cocaine! It just wasn’t possible, she thought. Yet the gentle policemen had said two different labs had the same result – cocaine. Fatimah told her it was just some ”safe” uppers. She had been desperate to get the work done for Miss Moore’s appeal, and even her work ethic was not enough for her to go days with almost no sleep and still be productive. Fati, as everyone called the Malay college girl in the dorms, had offered to help her. She even had refused payment. How could it be cocaine?
Whatever the answers, thought Amanda, Fati could not have meant to hurt her.
It had been a big mistake to say she’d gotten the drugs in the dorm! She would have to deny that tomorrow. There was no way Amanda Jones would be a snitch and get a friend in trouble, she thought. She would just need to be brave and refuse to betray anyone!
That resolution made Amanda feel a little better about herself. Cheer up! - Regent Pride!
As she was still racking her brain to understand how she has gotten cocaine, the cell door opened, and the guards brought her dinner - a bowl of gray ‘stuff’* and a cup of water. Ravenously hungry despite her worry, she eagerly shoved a spoonful in her mouth. She gagged at the taste.
Commandant’s Quarters, Changi Pison, Thursday, 7:30 PM
The Commandant was sitting in a comfortable chair in his study when his chief guard and another entered with Barbara Moore, chained and hooded.
“Remove the hood and her restraints.” Imran pulled off the hood and unlocked the cuffs and ankle fetters, leaving her standing naked in the center of the room, with just her collar and leash. Despite weeks of abuse and rapes, Barbara wrapped her arms around to cover her body. The futile display of modesty only increased her sensual appeal.
“When you first visited me here,” said the Commandant. “I recall you enjoyed the number four position. Why don’t we do that again?”
Barbara thought back with horror to the torturous position she had endured while this man raped her. However, she didn’t try to resist as the two guards forced her into the stressful, exposed posture. In a couple of minutes, she was bent over, her arms painfully raised high above her back, and her legs were already protesting an impossibly wide stand.
The other guard was dismissed, and Mamat and Imran stood, savoring the sight of the sex, vulnerable woman.
“This time, you are free from that foul hood, Miss Moore.” Said the Commandant. “I hope you show your gratitude as we emulate that quintessential American pastime, the “Double Header.” He retrieved two heavy riding crops from the wall rack, handed one to Imran, and stepped behind her.
Barbara said nothing, concentrating instead on steeling herself for whatever ordeal lay ahead. Her joints ached already from the stretched and unnatural position. She knew more pain was to come.
Moore did not have to wait long for that expectation to be fulfilled. Mamat tapped his crop a few times on her inner thighs before snapping a hard blow at where her thigh muscles showed taut, a few inches below her obscenely open pussy.
Barb’s groan of pain was quickly followed by another when Imran delivered an expertly aimed shot to catch the side of her left breast.
The two men settled into a routine of strolling counter-clockwise around the bound and pinioned woman, lashing out at random to kiss her most sensitive skin with the weighted leather keepers. Red splotches appeared on her flanks, ass, inner thighs, and, most frequently, her breasts.
As the men became more aroused, their blows became more frequent and more focused on her prominent nipples and gaping pussy. Mamat brought out a rachet steel mouth gag, jaw-spreader. After strapping it around Barb’s head, he forced her mouth wide and locked off the ratchet.
Dropping his pants and waving his full erection in front of her face, he said, “I’d suggest you use your tongue to get me off before you choke on my cock down your throat!” With that, he roughly shovel his meat into Moore’s mouth, hitting the back on the first thrust and causing her to gag.
Imran, meanwhile, had more self-control or more cruelty. He restrained his urge to plunge his tool into Barbara’s sweet pussy. Instead, he continued “preparing” it but continually whacking it with hard blows from his crop. He watched her spread purse become red and bruised from the repeated assault. Finally, he could take it no more and shoved himself into the swollen cunt.
Both men pounded Barbara back and forth between them. Soon the Commandant came, flooding her mouth with his jism. Shortly after, Imran did the same in her cunt.
Leaving Barb groaning from the pain of her bondage, the two sat down and enjoyed two beers. As they relaxed, they commented on their prisoner’s sexual attributes.
Fifteen minutes later, they grabbed the crops and went to pick up where they had left off.
* “slop” - a specialty of the CNB, slop was developed to be used as part of a system to break down a prisoner’s physical and mental resistance. A reasonably balanced and nutritional meal, it was engineered to have a repulsive effect. It came in five versions: #1 to #5. All were grey and gelatinous textured. No pleasing seasoning or spices added. #1 was almost tasteless. As the versions progressed to #5, noxious flavorings were added in increasing amounts. Rancid, metallic, and putrid overtones were used to create a taste, that by #5, rendered the food completely inedible. Desperate, half-starved prisoners were known to swallow a few spoonfuls of #5, but always vomited it back up. Amanda’s #2 combined the unappetizing blandness of #1 with slight notes of the noxious flavors.
