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Sexpionage ...

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Praefectus Praetorio

Brother of the Quill
The rumoured methods of interrogation used by the Suffusion of Yellow terrorist network were supposed to be taken from the text books of Pinochet’s regime forty years earlier.
I must confess that I'm loath to read more of this. The horrors inflicted on nurse Eulalia in Villa Grimaldi still haunt my dreams!:peep:
Yulia must surely be somehow related to Barb, given her ability to find herself in painful predicaments.
Indeed, Yulia has an uncanny ability to land in painful trouble. How much of this can one girl take?:monoloco:
Maybe after her treatment in the hands of the Turkish security services she realises that sometimes 'obvious' and 'assertive' get the job done more effectively
Her treatment at the hands of the hospitable Turks is just beginning. It is likely to be an extreme instance of strip-search and interrogation!1612820511851.png
Desperation can be the mother of invention.
Isn't this your motto as an author, Barb?:icon_pc:
Wouldn`t work, the interrogator would only ask whose child you were with !
And for Barbara, this is a question with far too many possible answers to handle. Reminiscent of the Medieval scholastic question, how many angels, etc.;)
 

Fossy

Tribune
A Suffusion of Yellow (2)


Club Kim, Enrique Mac Iver 187, Santiago, Republic of Chile, 10pm


02 - The Kim Strip Club.jpeg

Club Kim was a Strip Club.

“Bastards,” Yulia muttered to herself, cursing that her whole brief had been set up by the centre to operate from here. They had provided her with ‘cover’ as a stripper, and she could imagine the grins on the faces of her colleagues at the Centre as they were establishing her ID and backstory. Inside this establishment was her contact, and this is where she would be working as a dancer, though how much actual dancing she would be doing was open to question … At least she could dance, if required. Not only had it been a part of her training at the Academy in Moscow, Yulia had trained as a ballerina until she reached the age of seventeen, which was not all that long ago.

The club stood halfway up a narrow road on a hill leading away from the Mapocho river, it looked smart from the outside, and was double-fronted in one of the three-storey buildings that lined the street.

Neon Lights highlighted the ‘Club Kim’ sign as Yulia cautiously entered. Her first encounter was with the young girl on the door, who looked at her in a very suspicious way. The SVR Agent was ‘dressed to impress’ in a particularly revealing dress, and five-inch heels.

“You Dancer?” The door-girl said, “… or lesbian?”

Her candid approach took Yulia by surprise.

“Oh, yes I’m Dancer,” she grinned in response, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Then through there. Sit at small table alone. He will see you in a few minutes …” the girl looked Yulia up and down, then nodded, “He will like you.”

If she had been in Russia, before being recruited to serve the Motherland, Yulia would have turned her nose up at any suggestion that she spend an evening in a place like this. But, she reasoned, existing as a disreputable dancer might mean that she would stand less chance of being discovered for who she really was.

Yulia pushed the door open ever so slightly and was greeted by the sound of laughter from the main club into which she had clearly walked. Club Kim was hectic tonight. She hesitated, wondering if the middle of a busy evening was the best time to try to make contact with her man, or whether she should return tomorrow when there would be fewer witnesses to the conversation she needed to have.

She was still wavering indecisively when voices speaking Spanish turned her head. A quartet of men was making its way towards her. Yulia tensed, recalling where in her brief it had described the brutality of the torture that she may encounter if she was discovered. Had she been found out already?

They walked two abreast as one in the first pair nudged his young companion and gestured towards Yulia. The two walking behind spoke in Spanish to each other, laughing. It was obvious to Yulia that the young man was being teased and that she was the subject.

Her Spanish was more than passable, it really had to be, and so she offered them a simple smile before looking away again.

“Are you available Chica?” asked the man who had begun the joke.

“No, sorry, I’m just here … looking for a job.”

“Oh, she is waiting for you, Enrique,” said the oldest of the group to one of his compardres, and stepped aside to let a larger, thicker set man – presumably, ‘Enrique’ – pass him

“Maybe she is waiting for all of us,” Enrique replied. Yulia’s skin prickled. She could probably fend off one man maybe even two, but not four. She hid her revulsion and gave him a smile, hoping it was just bravado, especially if he was supposed to be the guy in charge. Was he her contact?

His smile disappeared and he pointed at a door off to Yulia’s right. Without replying, she opened the door and stepped inside. She was taken aback, thinking this would be a private room. However, the space went much further back than it appeared from the outside, indeed it looked like another main room. Small circular tables were set for couples or groups in front of both sides of the door and throughout the room. Most were occupied.

A raised stage area ran along the left side of the room. The bar covered the back-right-side wall. Between them was an archway covered with a pair of burgundy velvet curtains. The intense odour of cologne and perfume added another layer to the atmosphere, and beneath that were the smells of warm bodies and alcohol. It was sleazy and exciting.

Enrique had followed Yulia inside letting the cool air accompany them.

“Well, Chica?” asked Enrique, raising his eyebrows towards the Agent.

“Is it my night of fortune?”

“Not tonight, Sir. I am too tired from my walk here.”

Code words spoken, Enrique nodded and indicated that Yulia should move through another door, into what, this time, was very much a private room, where the floor was carpeted and the chairs were high backed leather.

“Sit.” His tone was assertive and filled with brevity. She sat.

02a - Sit!.jpeg

“Listen carefully. Last year the Embassy of the Motherland here in Santiago received a bomb threat. It turned out to be false, but following similar threats to our Embassies in Argentina and Brazil we had reason to believe that while there might have been no threat of an actual bombing, the calls were made as part of a larger, more sinister programme. A terrorist group called A Suffusion of Yellow claimed responsibility and last month that same group daubed its name on the front of the Embassy. We have reason to believe that the programme, whatever it is, is about to kick off, and we here in Santiago will be the first to be hit.”

Yulia listened intently and nodded appropriately, before speaking.

“I understand, and so what is my part in this?”

Enrique leaned across the table. “There is a man, his name is Valdez. He visits the club regularly and we have reason to believe that he is linked to this group, maybe even one of its leaders.”

“What reasons?” Yulia asked.

“You don’t need to know the reasons Chica, you just need to …”

Now Yulia really was listening. “Need to what?” She questioned.

“You will start working for me in this club immediately,” Enrique continued, leaving the previous sentence unfinished. The other girls will think you have been sucking my dick in here or doing whatever it took to get the job. So, they will immediately think of you as one of them.” Enrique’s grin was revolting to her, when she thought of the other girls actually sucking his dick just to get a job as a stripper!

He wasn’t actually going to ask her to suck him off … was he?

Thankfully he didn’t.

“When Valdez is next here you will dance for him in VIP room and then offer to go home with him, where you will search for evidence of his involvement, and any more information on A Suffusion of Yellow.”

“I’m not a prostitute!” Yulia was indignant.

“You are whatever the Motherland requires you to be Agent Jelic.”

Yulia closed her eyes and sighed.

“Come back tonight at 8pm. Can you dance?”

Yulia laughed, “Yes I’m trained as a dancer, but what you really mean is can I take my clothes off while I’m doing it?”

Enrique nodded.

“I guess we’ll find out tonight.” Yulia replied.



To Be Continued …
 

Barbaria1

Rebel Leader
Staff member
They had provided her with ‘cover’ as a stripper, and she could imagine the grins on the faces of her colleagues at the Centre as they were establishing her ID and backstory.

Yeah! Those Bastards! What, no sexy car? No pen that doubles as a weapon? No great wardrobe? This definitely is not MI5! :confused:

Great episode! :popcorn:
 

Fossy

Tribune
A Suffusion of Yellow (3)


Club Kim, 11pm on Yulia’s first Night



Her shorts flew off her, revealing a skimpy white lace thong to the roar of the crowd as she seductively worked the pole, her back arched giving glimpses of her bare ass, her long, untied blonde hair fanning out as she swayed to the song.

As the music slowed, Yulia extended her body out perpendicular to the pole, her legs splitting wide before the crowd who cheered, amazed and awed at her physical strength and seductiveness as she slowly lowered herself to the stage as the song ended.

As the second song came on —The Clash’s ‘Straight To Hell’ — (It turns out that then Clash were a huge influence in Chile during the Pinochet years, when the underground rock scene exploded in Santiago) Yulia began strutting across the stage, moving her body in rhythm to the beat. She was well trained and soon discovered that lap dancing and stripping was just another form what she was trained to do.

Valdez was in tonight and he was watching her … waiting, she hoped, for her to finish.

Walking forward to a group of guys waving bills Peso bills, Yulia bent forward, pressing the cleavage formed by her breasts encased in the tight white top into the face of the front row while she slowly turned her head towards Valdez, her hips swaying to the beat of the song.

With her attention momentarily on her target, several guys took the opportunity of stuffing money into her top, while others inserted notes into her thong.

She felt like she should acknowledge them and their ‘generosity’, but tonight she just stared at Valdez, allowing the other guys to take their liberties with her as they left hands on her body just a little too long. A few of the more daring sliding their fingers down the inside of her top, to feel her breasts before Yulia pulled away.

03 - To feel her breasts.jpeg

She wanted to rile Valdez, make him feel like she was being shared around but not with him. She needed him to want her. By the look in his eyes she had succeeded!

Finally turning her attention back to the guys in front of her, Yulia slowly bent backwards to the roar of the crowd around the stage as those in the front got a nice view of her exposed crotch perfectly outlined by the snug fitting thong as she arched her back, and writhed lasciviously for the adoring audience.

At some point the lap-girls sitting on each side of Valdez disappeared, and now his attention was all on Yulia as she strutted in front of the group of guys cheering her on.

As the music throbbed to an end, Yulia finished with her legs wide apart as she did the splits on the stage, again arching her back away from the crowd, her limbs stretched out in a perfect line as her torso was torqued backwards. Suddenly her hands rose over her body holding her top, to loud, anticipatory cheers. With pure strength she straightened her torso up, her arm over her chest covering her breasts as she threw the flimsy fabric behind her to the delight of the crowd.

Axel Thesleff’s 'Bad Karma’ came on as she got up from the floor, strutting her hips again while her arm still covered her breasts. Yulia began swaying seductively, moving rhythmically to the beginnings of the song. Her arms alternating back and forth, still hiding her breasts, encouraging the whoops and cheers.

Finally, Yulia, or Diamond as her stage persona introduced her, slowly smiled and seductively raised both her arms over her head, exposing her breasts fully to the crowd while her hips continued to gyrate.

Slowly, sensually she moved her hands across her stomach, then upwards to cup her breasts as she rocked, bouncing one after the other, alternating them to the beat of the song. Swaggering towards the crowd, she pulled one guy into her chest as others reached out to insert Pesos into her thong. Yulia looked over at Valdez and then turned around, bending down, her crotch only inches from the face of one guy, who grinned like a kid in the candy store as he took the 5,000 bill in his hand and pulled the crotch of Yulia's thong out, blatantly shoving the money between it and her pussy.

Even from his angle Valdez could tell Yulia was turned on. When the guy held up a finger to his and his buddies' noses, Valdez could see it glistening with Yulia’s juices – he had to have her!

The under-cover Agent turned back to the pole, virtually naked, spinning on it to the music, swaying to the beat, as she danced for the crowd's delight.

It turned out that Agent Novikova was in fact a very good stripper!

She continued to work the pole, undulating her body up and down the shining steel rod, humping it, jerking it, making love to it. It drove the crowd wild, and one man in particular was a little more wild than the rest.

Moving away, Yulia slowly lowered herself towards the crowd until she was on her knees, thrusting her crotch forward and back, humping the stage to the heavy beat while she pulled the sides of her thong up her hips with her hands, splitting the lips of her pussy for all to see ...


Valdez' Apartment at Park Araucano, Downtown Santiago


It was almost becoming light again by the time Yulia left Valdez’s apartment, almost but not quite ... and she was not alone. When he was done fucking her and using her body to his aggressive, arrogant satisfaction, Valdez insisted that she was driven home by one of his ‘men’

“It’s fine, really,” Yulia had protested, “Puedo conseguir un taxi …”

But Valdez would not hear of it, and so she was to be accompanied home, and his men were under strict instructions to watch and keep her safe until she was actually inside her apartment building.

The Russian Agent had become suspicious when Valdez, his fingers buried deep inside her naked body, had said something about Pinochet and how ‘when such a dictatorship returns’ girls like Yulia would be used as ‘fuck-toys’ for the military. She had thought it a random and somewhat vicious comment, but fortunately her gasping response was heavily influenced by the additional finger he pushed deep into her pussy …

Yet why had he made such a statement? It was careless of him, or maybe it wasn’t. Yulia could not be certain of how she had reacted beyond the sensation of being savagely fingered, and wondered if she just might have fuelled any suspicions, that he had about her.

And as Yulia sat up in bed leaning on the steel frame of her bed head, pondering her situation, she realised that now he knew exactly where she lived!

03a - Pondering her options.jpeg


To Be Continued …


A brief history of the evolution of Punk and Hardcore Rock in Chile

 

Fossy

Tribune
A Suffusion of Yellow (4)


Departamentos P Apartment Building, Barrio Lastarria, Downtown Santiago, Republic of Chile


Yulia lay on her bed, on top of the sheets, huddled in a foetal ball, wearing nothing but her thin nightdress. The meagre covering made her feel even more vulnerable … it had only taken one night, the first night, for Valdez to visit the club, and now here she was huddled in a shivering ball uncertain what to do.

Should she contact Enrique? But if she did, and somehow, she or her room, had been ‘wired’, then such contact could give away the entire Russian SVR Operation here in Santiago. Despite Yulia being convinced that she had been compromised, there was no way she could put any emergency procedures into place just yet.

But as she lay in the dusk and night began its early metamorphoses into morning, Enrique’s words came back to haunt her.

“You must be careful Yulia, the bastards inside A Suffusion of Yellow are extremists, followers of Pinochet’s doctrine. They want a dictatorship to rule in Chile, and they want Russia out of the way.”

Yulia squeezed her eyes shut as more of Enrique’s words came into her head, “Pinochet’s followers practice his interrogation methods too … so you MUST not be caught. If you are … then you have the pill.”

She glanced down at the small tin box that rested on her bedside table, and her knees went weak at the thought of the implication.

Picking up her phone, despite knowing that she shouldn’t, Yulia swiped to Wiki page entitled Villa Grimaldi – Pinochet’s Main Detention Centre … and she read -This is an insight into the torture experienced by women at Villa Grimaldi. Sexual torture was used as a mechanism of terror, in which "male torturers threatened women prisoners with rape and humiliated them on the basis of their bodily functions". Torture was used as tool for both emasculation of male subjects and for humiliating female revolutionaries. One instance documented describes an interaction between a female detainee and male torturers, who force her to undress, then laugh as they electrocute her and watch the menstrual blood drip down her legs …’

Yulia felt sick and convinced herself that she was simply waiting for a knock on her apartment door.

But when it came, there was no knock, the door was simply kicked in. A scream was all she had time for as the bag was thrust over her head and Yulia was bundled out of the building … the cyanide pill was still in its small metal tin by her bedside.


Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile


Opening the viewing hatch Valdez glanced at the girl in the cell on her bed. Yulia had retreated into a small ball, her back against the stone wall, her arms around her knees, her forehead resting on them. The little cat was suddenly a lot more scared than she had been before. She made no movement as his compardres entered the cell carrying a tray with a slab of bread, a little cheese and water in an unbreakable plastic cup. At Valdez’s nod, the man set them down.

Yulia had not broken under the initial questioning (see A Suffusion of Yellow 1), but equally knew that her interrogation was far from over.

As the door slammed closed Valdez remained in the cell and watched as Yulia looked up at him.

“Eat!” He instructed.

She ate with her fingers since they hadn't given her any utensils, small bites. When she pushed the food away, he went and stood over her. There was still some bread, some cheese.

"Finish it."

"I can't."

It made him furious. He caught her chin roughly in his fingers, digging in.

"Not everybody in Santiago has enough food, little cat. Some people out here starve. Finish your fucking meal."

He let her go, frowning when he saw the fading white of his fingers turn to angry red on her jaw. She reached for sparse meal again, the piece of bread, her hand shaking. She took a bite as he watched. She was chewing. She tried to swallow and she gagged a little, finally getting it down. She looked up at him and flinched.

He was going to hit her.

Fuck.

“SLAP!”

Hit her again.

Her face was still red on that side. It didn't matter. He was going to do worse to her. He jerked the bread from her hand, and tossed it in the corner.

"I need to use the bathroom," she said.

He got up and reached for the key in his pocket, unlocking her cuff. He gestured.

"That way."

Yulia got herself painfully up off the floor, rubbing her wrist. He could see deep purple bruises on her left arm where he'd gripped her, several sets. Her face was still a little swollen on the left side from the slap. She even had bruises on her jaw from his fingers.

Exiting the cell, Valdez followed her. Her nightdress was open at the front and torn at the back and the way it accentuated the sway of her firm ass mesmerised him. She truly was a beauty.

04 - Open at the Front.jpeg

Yulia slipped into the bathroom, as he stood guard leaving the door open, and he yawned rubbing his hair with his open hand. He could have let the door close, there was nowhere for her to go up there, no weapons she could use, but he was enjoying the view.

She came out minutes later and held her wrists out submissively without being asked. With the restraints on Yulia set off back towards the cell only to feel a hand on her shoulder.

“You move this way little Puta, now it is time for us to begin again.”


To Be Continued …
 

Fossy

Tribune
A Suffusion of Yellow (5)


Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile



Valdez returned to the table, the cheap plastic topped one, standing over her … just waiting, every second adding to her mental agony. Yulia finally looked up at him. Her cuffs had been removed.

"Are you going to kill me now?" she asked.

"It doesn't have to be that," he answered.

He flipped the chair around, straddling it.

"You are an SVR Agent?" The statement was said as a question.

She looked away, before looking back at him.

“My name is Yulia Jelic, and I am a dancer.”

She was lying. He was sure of it. She wasn't a good liar at all. He got up, flipping the chair around in one motion and slamming it onto the floor. Yulia flinched.

Damn right she should flinch.

He took her arm and hauled her to her feet. She winced and he remembered the bruises. He let go, crowding her.

"Strip," he said.

Yulia knew this had been coming, and to be honest the torn nightdress was offering her virtually no cover whatsoever. But the effect of her pulling the cotton fabric over her head to expose her fully naked body underneath was a statement on the part of Valdez and one that was compelling in its eroticism to every last man in the room … and there were six of them.

He took her left wrist and re-cuffed it, before repeating the action with her left. The cuffs were locked so tightly that Yulia winced as the restraint bit into her flesh.

“On your knees Puta.”

Valdez looked down, backing away from her as, with an obvious resigned reluctance, she slowly got to her knees, facing him, naked, breathing hard.

He let his eyes roam over her body as she tested the restraint, tugging at each cuff. He had never seen a more gorgeous girl … breasts trembling, creamy curves, her nipples swollen and dusky red. Valdez circled her and and she turned to watch him anxiously. His gaze drank in every inch of her nudity, “You have an incredible body Miss Jelic, we will take great pleasure in taking it apart piece by piece …” he said quietly as he stood once more before her.

"Diego …” Valdez addressed one of the other men.

"Yes, Valdez."

"Have you ever had the opportunity to use one of these on such a beautiful body?

He held up a studded, leather paddle.

"No, my friend, never on such fine-looking flesh.”

Yulia’s eyes widened and her head shook.

"Well, my friend we'll need to change that, now won't we? Would you like to try it on our little Russian slut here?"

“I’m not Russ …” but Yulia cut short her objection.

"Yes, please, Valdez, very much so."

"Very well then. I am giving you the honour, Diego."

"Thank you, thank you!" Diego was clearly very happy to assume such responsibility.

With that Senior man handed the cruel-looking implement over to his subordinate, who tapped it against his palm to test how it felt. Stripping off his shirt the long-haired Terrorist revealed his tattooed torso as he prepared for the task that had been given to him.

Yulia gasped in horror and disbelief as the young man showed her the implement, then yelled out as Valdez placed his foot between her shoulder blades and pushed her to the ground so that she rested upon all fours, her exposed ass high in the air.

Diego moved behind her prostrate form and began teasing her, gently rubbing her vulnerable bottom with the implement. Yulia struggled desperately in her attempt to stand, but the cuffs at her wrists, having been adjusted to secure her wrists at the front of her body, had now been resecured to a clip-hook in the floor, and so they held tight meaning that she could barely move, let alone escape.

She sensed the movement behind her as Diego, smiling coldly, tapped the paddle against her left ass-cheek one final time, and then struck hard with a cruel blow.

A loud SMACK and an anguished cry of pain announced the beginning of what would be a long and very painful session for the captured Agent.

SMACK … SMACK … SMACK …

Slowly and methodically the man struck his victim, first on the left side, then on the right, before then striking hard across both agonised bottom-cheeks.

05 - Preparing for the task.jpeg

"Arghhhhh! No ...no ...por favor ... piedad ...no mas ... AIEEEEEEEEE!!!!! ... por-fa ... por favor ... tenga piedad..."

Yulia’s anguished cries and desperate pleas in Spanish filled the room as the paddle continued to strike her tormented ass. The only pause came when she pitched forward and started to fall flat, but Valdez himself stepped in and grabbed her hair, pulling brutally upwards in order to ensure that she maintained position.

The hapless Agent continued to scream but it was to no avail as the beating continued until they were ready to stop. Her bottom was painfully swollen and deep red in colour, and Valdez could see that she was teetering on the brink of exhaustion.

He Knelt before her and once again using the grip of his fist in her hair, he held her face to his.

“So, Miss Jelic, have you had enough yet?”

Silence. Valdez smiled a menacing smile.

“Who are you working with, and who for. Tell us the name and location of your contacts and you can then go free.”

Did anyone know that she was here? Did Enrique know? Was there even a slim chance that she could be saved? Yulia had to believe that there was some sort of positive answer amongst those questions.

“Tell us what we need to know Yulia.”

“My name is Yulia Jelic, and I am a dancer.”

“Call Manuel, it’s time to move the interrogation up a gear.”



To Be Continued …


And so we bring the first phase of Yulia's interrogation and incarceration to a close ... but her suffering at the hands of Pinochet Following Activist's Group, A Suffusion of Yellow, is far from over.

There will be a short intermission over the weekend which will provide a catch up opportunity for any readers that need one. On Monday phase two of her torture will begin, and it promises to be the most painful, perilous, pain-filled experience of her young life. Join us on Monday for the serialisation of "Tea Time of the Soul"
 

Fossy

Tribune
Yulia remains chained, naked in the cells at Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi. She knows not what awaits her only that it will be horrific. She is scared of the torture to come, but also fearful that she will be utterly broken and forced to give up all of the secrets she knows. Will Yulia hold out? Will she be totally destroyed? Will she survive? Join us here tomorrow for the serialisation of "Sexpionage - Tea Time of the Soul" ...
 

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Fossy

Tribune
Yulia's ordeal continues ...


Tea Time of the Soul (1)


Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile



“So, this is it,” Yulia thought, as soon as her brain began functioning again.

She remembered having been injected with some sort of drug, and now, she had surely been administered an energiser to wake her up.

The last words she recalled was the promise made by Valdez to ‘move the interrogation up a gear’. Did she remember him saying the name Manuel?

A quick assessment revealed that she was tied to a metal chair or frame, her elbows secured close together at her back with black cable fastenings. The same kind of ties secured her arms over a bar that formed the backrest, and her knees to the chair legs. They were extremely tight and biting into her skin … compounding the soreness of her ass form the severe beating they had given to her (see A Suffusion of Yellow Day 5).

She was still wearing her torn nightdress, but apart from that she was naked.

Yulia tried the bonds, but the only action she could manage was a very short forward movement of the hips together with a small rotation of her shoulders.

“Oh God, please help me …” Panic was beginning to consume her and the SVR Agent realised now that they were going to torture her, and tried frantically to recall her training … but her mind was swimming with everything and nothing, and it was very difficult to think straight.

“Think, think!” she muttered in an attempt to focus her thoughts.

There was a chill in the room, but she was already sweating, her exposed skin glistening in the dark. As her eyes became used to the gloom, Yulia could see the shapes of dim lights and seemingly an electrical device, like a medical defibrillator.

“Fuck …” she whispered to no one but herself.

During her training at the Academy, no one had expressed any concern about death, accepting it as a distinct possibility, but being faced with it, like she now was then her feelings were decidedly different.

She could do nothing but wait.


A Back Room at the Club Kim, Enrique Mac Iver 187, Santiago, Republic of Chile


“It's confirmed, they have taken her." The man entered the dimly lit room and sat down at a small table. He looked at Enrique and sighed.

He was wearing baggy trousers and an oversize jacket, he looked dishevelled. At the other side of the table, Enrique was also in shirt-sleeves, with a loose tied tie and rolled sleeves.

“You shouldn't have let her go alone, without any support,” he said.

“For fuck’s sake Enrique, I didn't have any one available, you know that, you make the orders," he retorted.

Enrique didn't look happy, but the words spoken to him were the truth. He looked ponderous, deep in thought until finally he spoke. “Then you should have gone yourself to watch over her apartment.”

It was an unfair accusation, and both men knew it. Who would have coordinated operations then? But the first man didn't answer. He too felt guilty.

“By now, they could have been working on her for hours.”

“Yes,” Enrique answered. His monosyllabic response it was not indifference, but a simple reflection of the inevitability of the situation. “She will tell them everything, possibly or maybe she will not. We just do not know. Does she have her pill?”

“No, I found it at the side of her bed.”

“Then she is entirely at the mercy of these bastards.”


Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile


Several bright lights were suddenly switched on, and Yulia was momentarily dazed. She could barely make anything out as three men came into the room and to take station at different places. One of them positioned a stool to sit directly in front of her.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” Yulia said in Spanish.

The guy in front of her, didn't answer, but stared at her whilst rubbing his hands over his nose.

But, having decided that she had nothing to lose, Yulia made attack her first line of defence.

“Answer me! What do you want? Money? My family is not rich … we are just ordinary people from Belarus”. The man raised his hand, palm flat towards her to indicate that she should be silent.

“Ekaterina Novikova. Citizen of Russia huh?” A slight pause. “… but, through your Mother, Belarusian also? Middle class upbringing, you were educated at the Hinkson Christian Academy where you learned to speak fluent English before being recruited by the SVR at the age of Seventeen. You use the name Yulia Jelic when on assignment.”

Yulia girl tried to look surprised, but it was clear that her cover had been blown wide apart.

“Well, that's mostly true. Except for the name and the SVR part, which is ridiculous.” She also switched to near perfect unaccented English.

The man looked unimpressed.

“Do you know who I am and who I work for Ekaterina?”

“I do not know who this girl you mention is. My name is Yulia Jelic and I am just a dancer.”

The man smiled. “My name is Manuel Contreras Junior. My Father was Manuel Contreras, the Head of General Pinochet’s Secret Police. I work for a Revolutionary Group called A Suffusion of Yellow, called such because every time we strike, we do so groups of four or more events in order to steep the Government in confusion. You might have heard of us … and you might also be aware of the fact that I oversee the interrogations of our detractors very much in the style of my father.” Contreras finished his statement with a malicious grin.

These words terrified Yulia, not just because of what he was saying, but the fact that he was telling her everything about himself and his organisation, which meant that they had no intention of ever letting her go.

“When your cover is blown, it is blown”. The words from Colonel Tretykov flew into her mind. Her cover was blown sky high!

“So, Ekaterina, you can go on pretending you are an innocent, middle-class, part Russian, part Belarusian bohemian, dancer, but we both know what this is about, and why you are here.” He Paused, before continuing.

“You were asking questions of Valdez when you were with him in his home, that no dancer would ever ask, and your response when he fed you certain words was not the way an innocent girl would act. The cameras in his apartment caught you searching through his jacket pockets. You are going to tell us what you were looking for.”

Yulia felt lost. She swallowed hard, before mumbling, “I have no idea of what you are talking about.”

But she knew what was coming. Strangely, she did not feel fear, or anxiety, but a kind of sadness. It was as if she was already dead. Except, she was far from being that lucky.

Contreras moved away.

Another man took his place.

“She’s all yours Emilio.”

Reaching out Emilio carefully took the strap on the right of Yulia’s nightdress and slid it down over her shoulder. Her right breast was exposed, nipple hardened, their intentions becoming ever more clear.

“Are we shooting a porn movie guys?” Yulia found the wit to joke in defiance, and Manuel couldn't repress a smile.

Brave young girl. If only she could recognise when she is lost, he thought.

01 - Her Right Breast was exposed.jpeg

To Be Continued …
 
Last edited:

Fossy

Tribune
Tea Time of the Soul (2)


Diseñada como Villa Grimaldi somewhere in Santiago, Republic of Chile



“Strip her, Emilio, and take her to the ‘chair’.” Contreras was still calling the shots.

Emilio grinned and quickly pulled the nightdress off Yulia's shoulders. His action was rough, ripping the garment apart to leave her naked in an instant. Before Yulia knew what was happening, she had been released and led over to what looked nothing like a normal chair.

Two steel planks a couple of feet long set on legs ... a sparse metal frame constituted the back. Yulia’s eyes widened as she saw the true nature of the device revealed.

Emilio then spun her around and down onto the bars and quickly secured the girl at thigh and knee with leather straps.

“Arms in front ... NOW!” he barked.

When she complied, her wrists were overlaid and bound together. Embarrassed at being humiliated in this way before this man and his compardres, she, nonetheless, held her head high. Yulia was very aware that her position now left her prominent breasts exposed.

The Agent's apprehension increased when Emilio tied cords about her overlaid arms at the elbows and passed the ends up and through a steel ring set into the ceiling above her head.

Manuel stood directly in front of her, so she couldn't help but see the prominent bulge in his pants … her eyes grew wide, a development he noted with pleasure.

“Now Ekaterina,” Emilio said to her, using what he believed to be her true name, “… we know that you are part of the Russian undercover network here in Santiago, and you are engaged in an attempt to undermine our activities, correct?”

There was a pause during which a silent Yulia looked towards the ground.

“Even so,” he continued, “… we are prepared to be lenient with you. All you have to do is tell me the name of the man who is leading your activity, also where he is based, and I will free you, let you get dressed, and see that you are safely escorted out of our country. Come now, why suffer further disagreeable treatment? It's so easy. Just a name and a location.” He smiled a gentle smile at her.

“My name is Yulia Jelic and I am a dancer,” she repeated.

Emilio nodded. “Okay have it your way little girl, but be aware that when I said ‘a little bit of discomfort, you really have no idea. Very well, let's get started, shall we? Valdez, please pass me the strap, the perforated one, and the lash.”

Emilio received the implements that he had demanded. “Thank you. Now then take the rope, if you please and hoist her up!”

The cruel team of men pulled on the cord jerking Yulia's arms up high. A motion which raised her ass from the cold, steel surface and exposed her bare breasts to receive full attention. Reaching out to sample her provocative curves, the Activist filled his hands with firm, resilient flesh, the skin trembling under his touch.

Yulia grimaced, fighting back a whimper.

Emilio, the leather strap gripped in his fist, stepped back to admire his subject.

He gave the evil lash a few violent sweeps through the air in front of the bound girls terrified face.

Experienced in these matters, he would begin on her stomach building up to the breasts, so that he could savour her agony. Unlike the thin leather whips that could rip the flesh, this implement with the wider surface would impart a bitter sting without breaking the fragile skin. There were several small holes drilled through the savage length, and so not only would it fly faster through the air, increasing the impact of every blow, the gaps would cause small painful blood blisters to rise up on Yulia’s nubile body.

He drew back his arm and took aim.

“SWISH … THWACK!” The first stroke flew in a horizontal arc to burst across Yulia's belly, just catching her around the ribs.

“UHHNNN,” she grunted. This was another of his ploys; to let her feel the incredible sting the lash could deliver, so that she could imagine how much it would hurt when he struck a place even more sensitive.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

Two more punished her stomach and then Emilio looked to move higher. With a pause he leaned in to assess the damage thus far. Several reddening welts crossed her flesh and he could just see the first tiny red circles rising in the middle of each one.

He usually spent more time on the anticipation of his lashes, but the girl's bare breasts were just too inviting to delay any longer.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

The harsh lash found Yulia’s breasts for the first time, full across the upper slope.

“NNNGHHHHHH!” Yulia grunted at the bitter raw pain.

Emilio settled into a slow rhythm, 20 seconds between strokes to allow the beautiful girl time to fully appreciate the pain of each one.

Upon receiving every lash, the full breast would flatten, then tremble on her chest, and each individual stroke was rewarded with a delicious grunt of pain from the hapless Agent.

By the time fifteen lashes had sought out the sensitive curves on Yulia’s ripe body, the diabolical beating had flushed her exposed breasts to a brightening scarlet from her collarbone to the upper edges of her exposed areolae.

“Higher now, please.” Emilio issued his command.

Hands obediently hauled on the ropes and Yulia arms were drawn further upwards. As her arms lifted, the exposed breasts rose higher on her torso, keeping most of their perfectly firm shape, but now better exposing their delicate nipples and tender under curves to the pitiless strap. Already her nude torso was sheened with a film of perspiration from the arduous experience.

Emilio wasted no time once she was in her new position, balance precariously on the steel planks.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

A crisp slash to the undersides that lifted her firm curves and set them to shake wildly on her chest, then as soon as they had settled, a vicious horizontal crack that found her hardened nipples, full on, for the first time, cruelly flattening the rigid teats. There was no hesitation on his part, no build-up for anticipation, just a savage attack while Yulia remained alert enough to fully respond to the burning sensation of the whip striking her presented nipples.

SWISH! THWACK!.jpeg

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“Aiiiiiiiiii, please, stop … ohhhhhhhh stop, I beg you!”

The cry of suffering slipped uncontrollably from her throat, nothing had prepared her for the hideous stinging agony of this new attack upon her nipples.

“A little bit of discomfort, Ekaterina? I told you that you had no idea, didn't I? And we have only just begun Miss Novikova.”

He thrust his hips forward to highlight his developing erection, “As you can see, I find this kind of interrogation quite enjoyable. Now are you going to answer my questions and tell me what I want to know?”

Tears ran from Yulia’s wide eyes as the raw pain enveloped her, but, with a little evident difficulty, she was still able to muster her courage.

“My name is Yulia Jelic, I am a dancer,” she managed to respond between gasps.

Although he didn't show it, Emilio was happy with the Agent's resolve. She had no way of knowing that it only added to his delight. He had participated in many duels between lash and will and ultimately the lash always won.

Always.

This way she would last longer. He was always disgusted by the ones who broke after just a few minutes of suffering, screaming and wailing, then quickly sagging in their bonds. He inevitably got his full measure of pain out of them, of course, reviving them over and over with ice water, smelling salts, even injections to reawaken them for the continuation of the torment.

Eventually, their loud inchoate screams and frenzied contortions became sufficiently arousing to satisfy his lusts, especially after four or five revivals. The rare ones like this girl were treats to be enjoyed.

“As you wish, Chica.”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“AAAAAAHHHHH! NGHHHHH!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“NOOOOOOOOOO!”

Emilio reverted to a slow rhythm, allowing the optimum gap between each lash, delivering some to the thin flesh of her underarms. While not as painful as the breasts, the bitter sting added considerably to her agony.

Five more strokes …

Ten more … the savage lash caressed Yulia’s shuddering bared chest mercilessly. Both breasts were flushed a bright scarlet and now adorned with a plethora of rising red blisters.

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

“SWISH … THWACK!”

Five more rapid strokes savaged her body before her resolve finally cracked.

“HEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHH! AAAAAHHHHHH! AAAAAHHHHH! N-NO MORE, NO MORE! OH, GOD STOP! NO MORE! I … I don’t know any names, but there is a place … it’s a nightclub … called … called The Golden Cat … I think … I’ve never been there you have to believe me …”

Emilio dropped the strap.

“There now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Had you only been this reasonable at the beginning you would have spared yourself all that pain. Now you can rest Chica. Catch your breath, it's all over now. Lower her arms a little please.”

Emilio stepped up close to Yulia, his rigid phallus now pushing hard against the confines of his pants. The ropes lowered the young Agent's arms, but only to the level of her face. Still exposed, her beaten breasts heaved with every desperate gulp of air.

He placed one hand on her nearest shoulder while the other settled gently over her right breast. Even this light contact drew a fresh gasp of pain from her, as the monstrous Activist trembled in response to the pangs of erotic pleasure emanating through his hard shaft at the touch.

The once silken skin of her chest was now an angry red, welted surface and flush with heat. His fingertips caressed her, relishing the fiery warmth and the feel of the raised blisters scattered over the surface.

Even this light fondling was difficult for Yulia to endure. He released the swollen flesh and turned to his colleagues. “Bring her a glass of water please, and then we will check out her revelations.”


To Be Continued …
 
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