Chapter 5- Dorothy Brown Continues the Story
The police station cellar stank. I smelled piss, shit, puke, blood, all the things that can come out of a person when they are being tortured. Nothing good was going to happen here, that’s for sure. The cops finally let go of my arms, but still stood next to me. “Strip,” the detective in charge ordered.
“Fuck you,” I spat.
“What are you going to do, rape us?” Barb asked.
“Rape you?” he replied. “I wouldn’t stick my cock in you filthy whores for any amount of money. Who knows what diseases you have? No, we are about the truth, that’s all. You need to sign those papers absolving our fellow officers of misconduct and then we will let the judge worry about it. Now, you either sign or strip.”
“I’m not doing either,” Eulalia protested.
“I will count to 3,” the detective said, “And if you are not naked by then, we will rip your clothes off you. Is that clear?”
I looked at Barb and Eula and they looked at me. Eula sighed and began lifting her T shirt over her head. It wasn’t much of a choice, really, so I did the same.
Eula held the T shirt in her hand, looking like she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “Just leave it on the floor,” the detective told her. “If you need clothes again, we’ll give you prison issue ones.” It took only 30 seconds or so to remove the minimal clothing we had been wearing in the Trabbian heat. Now we stood naked in the cool, dank cellar.
I admired my friends’ bodies. They were beautiful, both with breasts that, while smaller than mine, were delightful, and with smooth-looking shaven pussies. I could feel my nipples getting hard from the cool air. I couldn’t tell if theirs were also, but I guessed they were.
“I will give you one last chance to sign,” the detective said. “Otherwise, things will get very bad for you.” None of us moved. The cops brought over 3 sturdy metal chairs and arranged them in a circle. “Sit down,” the detective ordered. The chair didn’t look that comfortable, but I sat. So did Barb and Eula.
As soon as we were seated, the cops took out some leather straps and attached our ankles, each to the back chair leg on that side. They pulled our arms behind the chair back and strapped our wrists to a crossbar. With my legs spread, I could feel the cool air teasing my pussy. It felt kind of nice, but I suspected I wouldn’t be enjoying myself soon.
One of the cops wheeled over a cart that had a black metal box on it. There was a thick electrical cord coming out of the back, with a plug on the end that he inserted into a wall socket. A bunch of lights on the front of the box came on.
“Do you know what this is?” the detective asked.
“An electric toothbrush?” Eulalia asked.
“Very funny, but you won’t be laughing in a few minutes. It’s our lie detector. We put these on sensitive places like your nipples and labia.” The detective held up some wires that came out of the front of the box. On the ends were brass fittings that I think are called alligator clips. They had teeth and a spring that held the teeth closed firmly. He opened and closed them so we could see.
“So, if you tell us the truth and sign your confession, nothing will happen. But if you lie to us, you will get a shock. We will keep going until we get the truth.” This sounded like a fucking nightmare. One of the cops grabbed my left boob in one hand to steady it and held one of the clips, attached to a red wire, with his right hand until my nipple was in between the two open jaws. Then, he relaxed his fingers allowing the clip to close on my nipple.
Shit! That hurt like crazy. “Take it off!” I yelled frantically, as the pain shot through the whole breast. I shook my body trying to dislodge the clip, but it was on tight as a virgin pussy. I could hear Eula and Barb protesting loudly as a clip was put on each of their boobs.
Then the shit-head cop did the same to my right tit with a clip attached to a black wire. More pain shot through that breast. They attached the second clip to Eula and Barb, too. So we sat there each with a clip on each nipple with two wires hanging down, running back to the box. The cop tugged on each clip to make sure it was firmly attached. It was, and pulling on them hurt like hell.
“You have one final chance to tell us the truth,” the detective said.
“We are telling the truth,” Eulalia protested.
“You will go first, then,” he responded. “Five seconds for this one at level 3.” The cop controlling the box adjusted some dials and then pressed a button. Eulalia’s body went rigid. It looked like every muscle was contracting at the same time. Her ass rose off the seat, her torso shaking crazily, trying to dislodge the clips, which, of course, held tight. She screamed “Nooooo!” like a crazed animal until the current finally stopped and she sank back onto the chair, gasping for breath.
Try imagining how it would be to watch your friend suffer horrible pain, hearing her scream, knowing that you will be experiencing the same thing in a moment. Try knowing that if any of you break, you condemn not only yourself, but all three of you, because your confession will be evidence against them too.
“Now are you ready to tell the truth?” the detective asked
“I am telling the truth,” Eulalia retorted.
“The machine says different,” the detective said. Turning to me, he said, “Let’s see if you are smarter than your friend, Dorothy. Give her the same.” The cop at the box twisted a dial so that I would get the current instead of Eula. I saw his finger above the button. “No! Don’t!” I yelled.
Then it hit me like a freight train. Searing through my poor tits like nothing I had ever felt before. All my muscles were straining to get away. I could feel my ankles and wrists rubbing against the straps. I could hear someone screaming. Fuck, that was me screaming. They said 5 seconds, but it felt like an hour. Finally, the pain stopped. I was barely able to breathe.
“Now, will you tell the truth?” I knew that signing that paper would send me to some horrible prison for years, so I had to hold out. I didn’t say anything, but I didn’t know how many shocks I could stand.
Of course, they weren’t going to forget about Barbara. She got her shock too and didn’t like it any better than we had.
“Alright, that was level 3. It goes to 10. Any of you smart enough to save yourselves a whole bunch of pain and confess the truth?” None of us said anything. “OK, level 4.” The cop at the box turned the dial, making sure we could all see him do that.
It’s hard to say if 4 was worse than 3, because both were just pure agony. It felt like my tits were being cooked. “We can keep going up to 5 if you want, or you can tell the truth,” the detective said.
“Goddammit, we are telling the truth. It’s your cops who are lying,” Barb shouted.
“Let’s see how they like 5,” he ordered.
5 was a whole universe of pain. Our screams echoed through that basement as the current surged through our poor breasts in turn. “Oh, God have mercy, you’re killing me,” I begged.
Like that asshole cared. “6” was all he said. The pain blotted out everything. I couldn’t see or hear, all I could do was feel and suffer the agony. I knew that the only way to stop it was to sign a confession that would condemn me to years of hell, but it was starting to seem worth it just to stop this pain right now.
