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Excellent build up and suspense.

Great storytelling

Just one of the many excellent bits of thick description that populate the prose of dommmu’s writing. Really well done.

Reading compliments like these really pays for the time and effort I have put into writing this story. Thank you! :D

I hope that you all are going to enjoy the rest of the story just as much as the start.

One thing is certain: Anouk will definately not enjoy it :devil:
 
Chapter 5

"Name: Anouk De Vries. Born: October 15, 1995 in Goes. Nationality: Dutch. Currently residing in Leeuwarden, the Netherlands."

Fonseca slowly walked around the table while reading out loud from Anouk's passport. His English was flawless. He had no idea how to properly pronounce Dutch names, though.

"That is what your papers tell me, but there is more to you, isn't it?"

He had completed his round around the room and sat back down. Anouk remained silent while she watched Fonseca flipping through the pages of her passport.

"According to these stamps, you have repeatedly travelled to Estoria within the last eighteen months. And it seems like you have spent most of your time over there. Why?"

"I am working there", Anouk answered. "I do deliveries."

"Do they have no need for delivery personell in the Netherlands? Why do you travel around half of the world for a simple job like this?"

Anouk did not know what to reply. She nervously pushed the glasses back up which had slid down her nose again.

"Your glasses seem to irritate you", the agent observed. "It looks like they are not fitting very well. And why aren't you wearing them in your passport photo? May I?"

Without waiting for Anouk's consent, he reached over and pulled the glasses from her face, giving them a quick look against the light.

"Fake glasses. I thought so. Why are you wearing fake glasses, Ms. De Vries?"

"Fashion", she snapped back, awkwardly catching the glasses that Fonseca threw over to her and quickly stuffing them into her purse. She felt her story beginning to crumble.

"Don't give me that bullshit. I know why you are wearing these glasses. Do you know a certain Valentina Moya?"

Fonseca opened the briefcase he had been carrying and took out a picture to show it to Anouk. It was a mugshot of a young woman, probably a couple of years younger than herself. She looked like the typical local girl, although she had not cut her hair and wore it in long black curls. Anouk found that she was quite pretty. Even the fact that she had a swollen black eye and was bleeding from a cut in her lower lip in the photo could not hide her beauty.

"No", Anouk negated. She really did not know anyone by that name and also did not recognize the girl in the picture.

"Of course you don't", Fonseca chuckled. "But maybe you were still expecting to meet her today? You might know her as 'Orchid', though. Ms. Moya was arrested during a raid last night."

"What does this have to do with me?", Anouk questioned. "I do not know her."

There was a short flinch in Fonseca's eyes. A flinch that told Anouk that she would do well to refrain from any more unsolicited interruptions of his explanations.

"Ms. Moya is a notorious subject who has repeatedly attempted to harm the Republic of Ascua in the past", he continued. "During her recent interrogation, she told us that she was supposed to meet a woman named 'Tulip' in the park near to the border checkpoint this morning. She would recognize the woman by a green jacket and red framed glasses. Now, Ms. De Vries, I have personally witnessed you spending the last hour in this very park wearing said jacket and glasses."

"This must be a coincidence. I was not expecting to meet anyone there. I was just taking a break", Anouk lied.

She jumped in her chair when the agent banged his flat hand on the table and pierced her with his eyes.

"Don't lie to me", Fonseca threatened her. "Ms. Moya was going to give you an SD card and you were supposed to smuggle it to Estoria. The SD card was confiscated from Ms. Moya upon her arrest and is currently under further assessment. But we have all reason to believe that it contains sensitive and confidential information of our government. Do you know what we call what you attempted to do in legal terms? Espionage. What do you have to say about this?"

"I demand to speak with someone from the Dutch embassy or a deputy of the European Union!"

The agent gave her an arrogant smile. "First of all, you are not in the place to 'demand' anything. Second, we do not have a Dutch embassy."

"Then the French embassy? My mother is from France, so I technically have her nationality, too."

Another bang on the table. This time, dangeroulsy close to where Anouk was sitting. Alright, alright! She had gotten the message. No more talking unless she was told to.

"We do not have a French embassy either", Fonseca hissed. "In fact, the only European countries who have not abandoned the Republic yet and still maintain their embassies are Germany and Spain. And before you get the idea to conjure a Spanish grandmother or some third-degree-cousin from Germany, let me tell you that the deputy of your European Union is still in Austria, enjoying his winter holiday. Intelligence told us that he is having a blast of a time, skiing during the day, partying in the evening and fucking a different girl every night."

"Then let me speak to a lawyer at least!"

Fonseca laughed out loud and the two soldiers joined him.

"Good luck finding a lawyer that is established in Ascua and ready to help someone accused of espionage", he said after having recovered from his laughing spasm. "Nobody will be stupid enough to throw away their career for a hopeless case like yours. No, you are on your own."

"Then all that I have to say is, that you have the wrong person", Anouk started her last desparate attempt to convince the agent to let her go.

"I do not think so", Fonseca shook his head. "Given the circumstances, I have all reason to believe that you are the spy codenamed 'Tulip' and that you intended and attempted to harm the Republic of Ascua. I hereby officially arrest you. You will be taken into custody at the Libria state prison. At some point during the next days, you will be interrogated until you have given us all the information we need to complete our investigations. Once the investigations have been closed, your case will be forwarded to the criminal court. If you are found guilty, you can expect a harsh punishment."

To be continued.
 
His English was flawless. He had no idea how to properly pronounce Dutch names, though.

. She nervously pushed the glasses back up which had slid down her nose again.

"Your glasses seem to irritate you", the agent observed. "It looks like they are not fitting very well. And why aren't you wearing them in your passport photo? May I?"
Details, details! It’s bits like these that make this story come alive and gives it such credibility. Things are unraveling fast for our heroine
 
Chapter 6

The very moment Fonseca had finished is last sentence, the two soldiers seized Anouk. One pulled her arms behind her back and the other one closed handcuffs around her wrists. All protests and denials met deaf ears while she was pulled out of the interrogation room and pushed further down the hallway.

After passing through another metal door, they arrived at a large garage. Between police cars and a few armored trucks that she remembered having seen patrolling along the border strip earlier, one vehicle stood out and it was the one they were heading towards: A dark blue station wagon, not the newest model, full of scratches and small dents and in desperate need for a car wash. Anouk found that keeping the vehicle this condition might be deliberate, since it would perfectly blend in with the few civilian cars that traveled on the roads of Ascua. The only abnormality were the tinted windows of the rear seat.

"No! Don't take me away! Please let me go!"

It was Anouk's final attempt to resist her arrest. Winding around in the firm grip pf the two soldiers, she gave everything to prevent them from loading her into the car. It was a bad mistake. The two soldiers threw her down on the ground. One reached for his tazer gun and immobilized her with its electricity while the other one gave her a load of pepper spray into her face. Although she had already given up her resistance at this point, both of them kicked her a few times for good measure.

A minute later, the car left the building. While Fonseca had taken the wheel and steered the car out of the city center, Anouk sat in the backseat, framed by the two soldiers. Tears ran down her face. Not only from her frantic sobbing, but also because the pepper spray burned in her eyes and made it impossible to see anything. Her mouth and her nostrils were also on fire, since they had received their fair share, too.

By the time the worst effects of the pepper spray had worn off, the car had already left the residential part of the city center and made its way through an industrial area. They arrived at the prison a short while later, where the agent dropped Anouk off and left her to the prison staff.

The intake procedure was a blur, and not only because the remains of the pepper spray still gave her troubles to see clearly, but also because of the many chaotic thoughts racing trough her head. How had she ended up here? And what would happen to her? The poison pill she had conceiled in her front opening came back to her mind. Whatever would happen during her imminent interrogation, was it actually going to drive her that far that she would consider taking the pill? And if she decided to use it, would she have the guts to do so?

The two latter questions were answered sooner that she had thought: She would never get the chance to think about using the pill. The prison personell performed another strip search on her. This time, she had to bare it all. And when she was made to bent over the table and the female officer started poking her orifices, her little secret was discovered and seized, but not before scraping off a sample and sending it away for further analysis.

Anouk's clothes and her things disappeared in a cardboard box, labeled with her name and her prisoner number. In return, she was handed a standard prison uniform: A short-sleeved shirt and knee-long sweatpants, both made out of the same cheap dark blue fabric. She was given neither underwear, nor shoes.

The last station of her intake was a mugshot for her inmate file. In bitter sarcasm, Anouk thought that she would look really great in her picture, with her eyes swollen and red from the pepperspray and the light makeup she had worn smeared all over her face from the tears.

She spent the first couple of hours in her cell crying and screaming, kicking her cell door with her feet and banging her fists against it. Not only in despair, but also in anger. She was angry at Annika for sending her on this risky mission. She was angry at herself for accepting it. And she was angry at this bitch 'Orchid', or Valentina as her real name was, for leading the government agents on her trail.

After she was done exhausting herself with her tantrum, she sat down on her bed and let her analytical self take over, trying to calm down again. She assessed her cell, which was about five feet wide and ten feet long. The walls were a lot higher than in a normal building. Anouk estimated that the prison had probably been built sometime in the late 19th or early 20th century when super high ceilings in buildings had been the fashion. The only light that was available in the cell was the daylight falling through a small barred window. The window was located so high on the wall, that even after climbing on the bed and standing on her tiptoes Anouk was not able to look out of it.

Judging by its condition, the sparse and worn out furniture in the cell had doubtlessly been in here since before Anouk was born. There was the rusty metal bed, screeching with every movement she made, equipped only with a filthy mattress and a thin scratchy blanket, no sheets and no pillow. There were a sink and a toilet, both made out of aluminium and already heavily battered, the toilet without a seat or a cover. And there was a small wooden shelf over the sink, holding a plastic mug, a toothbrush, a bar of soap, two rolls of toilet paper and a small towel, which hung over its edge. That was it.

The sunlight falling through the window slowly turned dark orange. It had to be evening already. Anouk became aware of her stomach growling. The last time she had eaten something had been this morning and in her nervousness, she had not managed to swallow down more than a couple of grapes.

The mechanical clicking of the doorlock startled her. When the cell door opened, a prison guard stood in it, looking at her expectantly, obviously waiting for her to do something. Behind him, Anouk spotted a woman in an apron, standing next to a cart that looked like one of the trolleys flight attendants would push through the airplane, serving snacks and drinks to the passengers.

When Anouk did not move and only returned the guard's stare with her eyebrows raised in question, he drew his baton and launched at her, giving her a few blows with it on the back. Then he grabbed her by the arm, pulled her from the bed and threw her against the wall opposing the door. He barked something at her in Nabano. Anouk was hardly fluent in the local language, but she understood this: Whenever the cell door was opened, she had to stand against the wall with her back turned towards the door, hands and feet spread apart and placed on the wall. And she was not allowed to move until the door was closed again. The guard reinforced his instructions by jabbing her with the tip of his baton until he was happy with her posture.

After he was gone and the door had been closed and locked, Anouk carefully turned around to find what they had left: A tray with her dinner. It was hardly a feast, of course, only a small piece of bread with a slice of cheese. It was neither delicious, nor disgusting. In fact, it did not really taste like anything. But it was the food her body craved for. It was so dry though, that she had to refill her plastic mug from the faucet over the sink twice to wash it all down.

The sun disappeared and with it, Anouk's lingering dread of being picked up for her interrogation at any moment. They would not come for her in the middle of the night, would they? She had hardly gotten any sleep the night before and she needed to rest if she wanted to brace herself for whatever lay ahead.

To be continued.
 
The sun disappeared and with it, Anouk's lingering dread of being picked up for her interrogation at any moment. They would not come for her in the middle of the night, would they?
Of course they would girl ... when your defences are down ... Great chapter Dommmu (Beautiful young, nubile girl captured and incarcerated in a cell - one of my favourite 'scenes')
 
Chapter 7

Falling asleep was hard. The bed was anything but comfortable. Anouk rolled her blanket together to form an improvised pillow out of it. It was so warm in the cell, that she would not need it to cover herself.

When sleep finally came, it was short and not very deep. Before she knew it, Anouk was woken up by her cell door being unlocked. Not being in the mood for another beating, she clumsily jumped out of her bed to take her required position on the wall. She heard the tray from her dinner being removed an replaced by a new one. Breakfast was the same as dinner: Bread and cheese. How diversified!

While she ate her breakfast, she could smell her dried sweat from the night and figured out that she was in dire need of a shower. Unfortunately, her cell was not equipped with one. As long as she was trapped here, she would have to manage with the sink and the bar of soap for her morning routine. She did not even have a washcloth at hand, so all she could to was to rub a little bit of the soap into her hand, spread it over the most smelly spots of her body, then rinse it off with the water she transported from the faucet in her cupped hands. Of course she made a mess this way. Most of the water landed on the ground. And when she was done, she hardly felt any cleaner.

Time passed. Waiting for something to happen that she knew she could not avoid was terrible. And there was nothing in her cell to distract her. Anouk's mind underwent frequent changes between plain boredom and unflagging apprehension. These two extremes continued tearing on her.

The next time the door was opened, she actually hoped that she would now be taken away for interrogation, just to finally end the tension. But it was only her lunch being served.

If she had thought breakfast and dinner to be bad here, the lunch raised the bar in a negative way. It was a lukewarm block of processed meat of a strange color and made out of ingredients Anouk did not even want to think about. Probably anything that had been mopped up from the floors of the Ascuan butcheries. The side dish were bland potatoes.

The afternoon passed, dinner was served and night came. Anouk was kept in her cell. The days came and went, and every day was the same routine: Her cell door was only opened for her to be brought breakfast, lunch and dinner. When her breakfast was served, a second person from the prison staff came in and checked if her toiletries needed replacement and restocked them if necessary. It was always the same, the only thing that varied was the side dish for her lunch, either potatoes or rice. The prison staff never interacted with her and she did not dare to adress them, knowing that the only answer she would get was a baton being slammed into her ribs. Anouk soon understood that she did not have to wait for being tortured: Her solitary confinement already was the first part of it!

At a certain point, a shocking idea came to her mind: What if the agent had forgotten about her? What if a message had been lost during transit and no one remembered why she was here in the first place? Would she spend the rest of her life here, in constant fear of something that might never happen at all? She tried her best to keep this idea away from her, but it kept crawling into her mind every now and then.

If she had kept count correctly, she had spent the last five consecutive days hanging around in her cell, with nothing to do but to stare at the barren walls and brood about her fate. Anouk had just eaten her breakfast (bread and cheese again, hooray!) and undressed to wash herself. Having not enjoyed a shower for so many days now, her body had developed a very human smell. Or a reek, if one wanted to say so. But that was not the worst part of it: Her hair had become a filthy and tangled mess. The faucet was so close to the sink, that she could not stick her head under it to get her hair washed properly.

While she finished washing herself (she had gotten some practice during the last days and only tiny splashes would land on the floor now), she heard the cell door being unlocked. Anouk jumped in surprise, then froze. This was not part of the daily routine. They were coming to take her away for interrogation! It was weird, but a strange sense of relief overcame her.

"Fuck!", she cursed when she noticed that she was still naked.

Her prison uniform lay on the bed and she would hardly be able to dress before she had to assume her position on the wall. The door was already being opened and Anouk quickly paced to her designated spot. She would have to dress later. Right now, with her front turned away from the door, whoever was there would not be able to see anything relevant of her nakedness.

"Look at you", a male voice said in English, but with a heavy accent. "You have already undressed for us. If I did not know better, I would say that you were looking forward to this!"

"Turn around, bitch", a second male voice said, also in heavily accented English.

Anouk tried to reach for her uniform, but the second man stopped her by shouting "No!" and ordered her to turn around immediately. She complied, using one arm to cover both of her breasts and the other to cup her crotch.

When she turned around and lifted her ashamed face from the ground, she recognized the two soldiers who had arrested her on the order of agent Fonseca.

"Why so shy?", the first one mocked. It was the one who had struck Anouk down with the tazer gun.

"Put your arms on your side!", the second one, the one who had peppersprayed her, barked.

Unlike the prison guards who carried rubber batons, these two wore canes on their belts. The second soldier drew his cane and gave it a few warning swings, making it produce an ominous deep whooshing sound as it cut the air. Anouk complied, letting her hands sink down to her sides.

"She really is a looker", the first one commented with a lecherous grin. "Interrogating her will be so much fun!"

"Yes", his comrade agreed. "Come on bitch, let's get you into the interrogation room! Mr. Fonseca wants to have a word with you."

Anouk sighed and nodded. Although she safely assumed that he next hours were going to be a living hell for her, she knew that this was the moment the last couple of days had been leading up to. The waiting was over and the next stage of her journey was about to begin.

"May I please dress?", she asked meekly, giving her prison uniform on the bed another glance.

"That is not necessary", the first one countered. "You will be naked during the interrogation after all, so why waste any more time?"

"Get your ass out of there, bitch!", the second one growled impatiently, flicking his cane at Anouk.

He hit her left elbow. Anouk winced and yelped. She had not expected the cane to be this painful. A thin red line formed itself on her arm within seconds. After that, she did not need another reminder. Instead, she hesitantly left her cell and let the two soldiers take hold of her. After putting her in handcuffs, they dragged her away.

To be continued.
 
"Fuck!", she cursed when she noticed that she was still naked.
What a great story. But I must say I was very surprised to read that she was naked. A girl in custody, awaiting interrogation, I'd imagine she would not even take her clothes off to wash herself. The confrontation with the guards however was quite a pleasure to read. For me that is. :)
 
Chapter 8

Anouk's initial worries about countless horny eyes leering at her being paraded naked around the prison proved to be unfounded. While passing many locked cell doors, they did not meet a single soul. Their walk was short, tough. Down the hallway Anouk's cell was located in, one stair down, presumably into the basement, and then right into the first door on the left.

The room she was pushed into looked a little different than the interrogation room at the border checkpoint. This one was considerably larger, probably twice the floor space of the one from before. The on thing both interrogation rooms had in common was, that they had no window. Instead, the light came from two old and flickering neon lamps on the ceiling and a rattling ventilation pumped air into the room, which smelled like rust and dust.

In the center, right behind the door, there was a large metal table with two chairs. The chairs however did not face each other, but into the same direction: The wall at the other end of the room. Then it deemed Anouk, that this time she was not going to sit during her interrogation.

Just like in the cells upstairs, the ceiling was higher than usual. And here, it also served a functional purpose: On the wall opposite from the table, a thick steel cable hung down from a pulley. It ended in a horizontal iron bar that slowly dangled from one side to the other. On the other end of the pulley, the cable ended in a mechanical winch that was mounted on the wall.

"We are going to prepare you now for your interrogation", the first soldier explained. "We know that your name is Anouk. And since we are going to spend some very intimate time together, unlike you, we will show the manners to introduce ourselves. My name is Diego and my comrade there is Camilo."

Camilo did not care about his introduction. Instead, he went over to one of the cabinets next to the door and produced a set of four leather cuffs. They looked heavily used. Anouk wondered, how many prisoners had worn them before. She noticed that the insides of the cuffs were padded, but assumed that the padding was not designed for her comfort, but to prevent her from injuring herself when she would writhe under the torture soon.

Anouk knew better than to resist when Diego and Camilo removed the metal handcuffs and in return closed the leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles. Each cuff had a short chain connected to a ring on its outside. She understood the purpose of this when they maneuvered her under the iron bar and attached each wrist chain on one end of it. The chains on her feet were connected to rings drilled into the floor to her right and her left.

Then Camilo went over to the winch an started cranking it. Anouk felt her weigth gradually beginning to pull on her wrists as she was slowly lifted into the air. Soon, they had her on her tiptoes and then her feet lost their contact to the tiled floor entirely. But that was not the end of it. The soldier kept operating the winch until the ankle chains lost their slack and Anouk was stretched in the shape of an X in the middle of the air.

Being forced to remain in this stressful position, completely unable to shift her posture because the strain did not even allow the tiniest movement, was demanding. Anouk broke into sweat within seconds.

"Comfortable?", Diego teased, placing his flat hand against her midriff to feel the tensed muscles under her skin. He moved it upwards and gave each of her breasts a testing squeeze and each of her nipples a playful pinch.

Anouk groaned and revolted in her bondage. She wanted to tell this repulsive creep to stop touching her, but in her stretched position, she was not able to draw enough breath for the tirade her head was preparing. A strained "No!" was the best answer she could manage.

Diego only smiled and moved his hand down along her front. He petted the sparse stubbles of her slowly regrowing pubic hair (Anouk had shaved herself in preparation for the New Year's Eve party a week ago) and then began to finger her crotch, sliding his finger up and down between her labia and gently playing with her clitoris.

Another angry grunt of protest escaped Anouk's mouth. "No. Don't" was what she could add with effort.

"Do you not like me touching you?", Diego asked in played disappointment. "Maybe you prefer this instead."

He drew his cane and swiftly laid it down over Anouks right tigh. She reacted with a surprised gasp, then fell into a quick arrhytmic panting as she processed the pain. A second blow landed across both of her butt cheeks. This time, Anouk actually managed a small shriek. The second one had been delivered by Camilo who had also drawn his cane and joined his comrade. The two soldiers exchanged vicious grins and then started working Anouk over.

They slowly walked around her, alternatingly hitting her with their canes in various places. Her tighs, her stomach, her breasts, her butt and the small of her back all got their nice share of cane strokes. Diego and Camilo played with Anouk, making several swings miss deliberately before applying the next one. Soon they had her shaking and whimpering in a constant state of panic, not knowing when and where the next stroke would hit her.

Their game was interrupted and the two soldiers quickly retreated into a corner of the room when the door was opened and two men entered. After taking a short moment to calm down and blink the tears out of her eyes, Anouk recognized that one of them was Fonseca. He wore a dark grey suit, just like on the day he had arrested her. She wondered if it was the same dark grey suit or if he had an array of identical dark grey suits back at home. Why was she thinking this? She was being tortured! The agent's wardrobe was the least of her concerns.

"Good morning, Ms. De Vries", Fonseca greeted her formally.

Anouk did not reply. She suddenly felt a deep humiliation being spread out naked in front of the man who had put her into this hell, put on display like a piece of prime meat in the window of a butcher shop. And she was still coping with the pain from the caning.

"Ah, I see that you have already prepared her and warmed her up", Fonseca approved and gave the two soldiers a friendly nod.

The agent and the man who accompanied him went around the table and positioned themselves in front of Anouk to assess her. Fonseca took a sip from the paper cup he was holding. Anouk smelled coffee. It was probably just some cheap instant coffee tapped from a vending machine, but the pleasant smell crawled into her head and almost made her go crazy. After a week of bland food and only water to drink, she craved for something of a more substantial taste. Fresh tears appeared in her eyes.

"Don't be worried, Ms. De Vries", Fonseca reassured her, misinterpreting her tears as his finger retraced some of the bright red burning lines the cane had left on her chest. "These strokes have not yet been strong enough to break your skin. The marks should disappear within a day or two. Now, let's get down to business."

The agent and his companion returned to the table and took their seats. Both opened their briefcases and began to lay out folders and documents. Fonseca commanded the two soldiers to let Anouk back down a little so that she could catch a breath and focus on the questios. They complied by releasing the winch until the balls of her feet could touch the ground. This was indeed a small relief, since the worst strain was taken off her arms and her shoulders and Anouk felt that she could breathe a lot better again.

"Alright, Ms. De Vries", Fonseca opened. "Before we begin, let me clarify what this talk is about and what it is not about. The night before you were arrested, Ms. Moya, 'Orchid', was in the very same position that you are in now. And she talked. She told us a lot. Do not get the idea that you can weasel your way out of this by convincing me that you are innocent. The cirumstances of your arrest were unambiguous and supported by Ms. Moyas statement. We do not have any doubts about your guilt. All that we need from you for legal reasons is a confession. Do you understand?"

Anouk nodded. She did not know what else she should answer.

"Good", the agent appreciated with a quick smile. "By the way, the man sitting next to me is Oscar Tafalla. He will assist me during your interrogation. Mostly, he is responsible for the paper work."

Tafalla concluded his introduction with an indifferent bow of his head. He showed more interest in the piece of paper he had readied an now began to read out loud from:

"In the late evening of January 2, 2022, the declared public enemy Valentina Moya, born July 13, 2002 in Libria, today part of the Republic of Ascua, was arrested during a raid directed by the secret service of the Republic of Ascua. Upon her arrest, an SD card was recovered from her. The contents of the SD card were analysed and have been found to be destructive for the Republic of Ascua, containing
- scans of highly confidential government documents as well as private documents of high ranking government members,
- pictures of government facilities, illegally taken,
- and video statements of several individuals spreading blatant lies about the Ascuan government.
During her interrogation at Libria state prison, overseen by agent Guillermo Fonseca, Valentina Moya declared that she was supposed to hand the SD card over to a spy operating on behalf of the terrorist organization 'Orange Hand'. While she claimed not to know the identity of that spy, she gave away the codename 'Tulip'. Anouk De Vries, born October 15, 1995 in Goes, the Netherlands, was arrested on the morning of January 3. Based on Valentina Moya's descriptions, she is suspected to be the spy codenamed 'Tulip', who was supposed to accept the SD card and smuggle it to Estoria with the intention to leak confidential information about and to damage the reputation of the Republic of Ascua and its government."

An awkward silence lingered in the room. The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the paper as Tafalla reorganized his files.

"So, Ms. De Vries", Fonseca said while lighting himself a cigarette. "Any thoughts?"

To be continued.
 
Looking forward to how you handle the interrogation-------a quick confession then we can get on with the punishment; a quick confession then we can enjoy some 'fun' with Anouk; or an extended questioning with 'persuasion'?------- or maybe something else entirely, your imagination is very active.
 
Chapter 9

Spying for a terrorist organization? That accusation was preposterous. The Orange Hand were a helping people. They were no terrorists! And Anouk had not have a clue about the contents of the SD card which she had been told to bring to Estoria.

"I am not a spy", she insisted.

Fonseca sighed. "Ms. De Vries, were you not listening? This is not about what you are and what you are not. That question has already been answered. We only want you to admit it."

"I won't! Because I am innocent!"

The agent signalled the soldiers to pull her up again. Anouk moaned as the strain was yet again applied to her sour limbs when her feet were lifted off the ground.

"Ms. De Vries, I think you have gotten a pretty good idea of what we are capable and ready to do to you. And if you refuse to cooperate, we will continue to hurt you."

The stinking smoke from his cigarette crept into Anouk's nose and made her feel sick. But it was not the only thing that disturbed her. The rumors about the Ascuan government using torture on their prisoners had turned out to be true. She was experiencing that first-hand!

"Do you want us to hit her again?", Diego asked. "Maybe a little harder this time?"

"No", Fonseca replied, contemplatively ogling her stretched out naked form. "Such a lovely young body. It would be a shame to destroy it right away. The electricity broke her friend Ms. Moya the other day. So let's try the same approach on Ms. De Vries."

The two soldiers chuckled at each other and began setting up the next stage of her torment. Camilo went into a corner of the room to an object that had been hidden under a cover until now and revealed a trolley that had some kind of electrical control box mounted on top of it. He rolled it into the center of the room and parked it right next to Anouk, then he made is way into the corner again to fetch the second part of the set up.

While he was on the way, Diego opened one of the drawers of the trolley and produced a long cable from it. The cable split in two on one end. Each of the two wire strands was affixed to a metal clamp. Diego demonstrated the clamps by letting them clip open a couple of times in front of Anouk's eyes, showing off their small metal teeth. Then he attached the clamps on both of her nipples. That alone was painful enough to make her mewl. And the electricity was not even on yet! How would she be able to endure this for however long they were going to torture her?

But the preparations were not completed yet. Camilo returned from his second tour, carrying a large copper plate which he placed on the ground below Anouk's feet. With another wire, he connected the plate to the control box on the trolley. The cable from the plate and the one coming from the clamps on her nipples were plugged into adjoining sockets.

Every handgrip the two soldiers made seemed to be routine. Anouk wondered how many times they had prepared someone undergoing torture during an interrogation like this before. Many times, as it seemed. Diego finished the assembly by plugging the control box into an electric outlet on the wall. Camilo turned the winch and lowered Anouk so far down, that both of her bare feet, toes, balls and heels, completely touched the copper plate.

Anouk watched in horror as Diego turned some dials on the control box and put his thumb against a little lever on its side. Then, giving her a playful wink followed menacing grin, he flicked the switch. The electricity shot through her body. It entered through her nipples, made its way down her spine, through her groin and her legs and finally left her body through her feet.

She screamed. For a couple of seconds, the electricity stunned her. She was immediately reminded of how the tazer gun had made her muscles cramp as it had taken away her control of her body when she had tried to resist being arrested. But now, the current was a little different. Painful beyond imagination, yes. But it did not completely paralyze her.

Discovering that he could still move her hands, Anouk instinctively grabbed the chains of her wrist cuffs and pulled herself up on them while also bending her legs in order to lift her feet off the ground. The ankle chains had enough slack now to allow her to get a couple of inches of air between her feet and the copper plate. This way, she broke the electric circuit which had been closed by her body.

"Bravo", Fonseca gave her a sarcastic slow applause. "You are a quick learner. Escape the electricity by pulling yourself up. But you won't be able to do this for long. Holding this position is demanding and soon you will loose the strength to do so."

He was right. Anouk was quite athletic and had always kept a decent level of fitness. Mostly because she did many of her deliveries for the Orange Hand on foot, which involved a lot of running, since time was always critical. But even a well-trained person like her could not maintain a self-inflicted suspension like this for more than a couple of minutes. Her hands gave in first, loosing their grip on the chains, putting all of her weight on her now unsupported wrists. That was painful, but certainly not as bad as feeling the electricity again. She had to pull up her legs even higher now, which stressed the muscles in her tighs and also her midriff. And sooner than she had feared, her strength just left her and her feet closed the electric circuit once more.

Anouk hang from the bar, arms stretched wide above her head, her feet limply dangling down and sliding across the copper plate as she writhed in agony, suffering the electric shocks that went through her body. It cost her an incredible amount of effort and focus to ignore the pain and get back on her feet and then hoist herself up against the chains again.

"We can stop anytime. It is up to you", Fonseca reminded her. "You probably think that if you can just sit this through for long enough, you will outlast this. You won't. The electricity just keeps flowing. During the war, we had a lot of blackouts, you know. The power grid was simply not built to withstand the constant attacks and a lot of power lines, especially the ones coming in from the outside, kept failing. This has changed now. The Republic of Ascua has some of the largest coal deposits in the entire world. And thanks to the infrastructure plans of our glorious government and the erection of several new coal-fired power stations, our power supply is now self-sufficient. Today, you flick the switch and the lights burn all day."

Anouk did not accomplish more than another series of screams as reply when she touched the ground repeatedly and the current persisted to shoot through her body.

To be continued.
 
Chapter 10

"By the way", the agent mentioned. "If you feel like loosing control of your bladder, don't worry. It is a normal reaction for someone being exposed to electricity this strong. We see prisoners piss themselves all the time in this position. But let me warn you: If the pee splashes over your feet, it will only make them even more conductive."

Fonseca fell into a dirty laugh. Camilo and Diego joined him. Even the overly correct Tafalla could not help but to smirk. Anouk was glad that she had used the toilet in her cell earlier and had relieved herself this morning, when she had still been unaware of what the day would bring her. Whatever happened, she should be save from a pee accident for now.

The circle continued. Anouk took turns pulling herself up and then return to suffering the electric shocks when her strength ran out again. The intervals in which Anouk managed to retreat her feet from the copper plate became shorter with each iteration. Fonseca used the short breaks during which she was able to keep herself away from the electricity to repeat his only request for her: To confess. Of course, Anouk would always deny it. She knew that if she admitted her guilt to the insane charges, her life would practically be over. Both Ascua and Estoria may have had suspended the death penalty for the time of the truce, but that would not protect her from a lifelong prison sentence.

At a certain point, desperately searching for a way to deal with the pain, Anouk pressed her face against her biceps and began chewing on it. When the two soldiers noticed this, they pushed a thick leather strap between her teeth and knotted it behind her head. This gag gave her something to bite down on apart from her skin without taking away her ability to speak.

As her torture went on, Anouk lost track of time. Had she been tortured for twenty minutes or a couple of hours now? She could not tell. The lack of daylight in the room made it impossible to make an estimation. Fonseca gave her an indication of what time it was when he announced that his stomach was growling and that he would be heading for lunch now.

Finally, the power was switched off. The copper plate was pulled away from under her feet and the metal clamps were removed from her nipples. The sudden sting of the blood rushing back into her areolas after the tissue being squeezed for so long was nothing more than a minor inconvenience for Anouk now, not even worth of another cry. She hung in her chains, panting exhaustedly.

"I have to admit, Ms. De Vries, that you are surprising me with your resiliance", Fonseca commented. "We have been interrogating you for three consecutive hours now and you are still not talking. After this time, your friend 'Orchid' had already pissed herself and fainted twice. And when we asked her if she wanted to continue, she started babbling out the information she had been withholding from us so quickly, that Mr. Tafalla could hardly write all of it down fast enough. So you may be tougher than her. But that does not mean that you are smarter. Unlike you, Ms. Moya had understood that she could end her torture by telling us what we wanted to know. But it seems like you did not, at least not yet."

The agent and his assistant stood up, collected their things and stored them away in their briefcases. Fonseca announced then that they would be back in about an hour.

"Do you want us to hit her a little more with the canes in the meantime?", Camilo asked.

"No, leave her alone. I want her to have some time to overthink her decisions."

Before leaving for lunch too, the two soldiers removed the gag, but pulled Anouk back up and suspended her in mid-air again. It felt like they made the winch stretch her into the X-form even tauter than before.

To give her food for thought, they also revealed what the afternoon would have in store for her if she continued to deny the accusations: An anal probe, made of a long steel rod with a ball at its end, about two inches in diameter. Getting this pushed up her bum would already be awful enough, but imagining the electricity entering her body through it put her in a state of horror.

When leaving the room, Camilo and Diego turned the lights off and abandoned Anouk in impenetrable darkness. This was the last tiny thing that finally broke her. All the way through her torture up until now, she had managed to keep her composure. Yes, she had screamed, cried and cursed from the pain, but she had not lost her nerves. Yet.

Left behind in the pitch black interrogation room, the only sounds echoing from the walls being her own gasps and moans, Anouk started to doubt if she could endure another torture session. Her body was sore. The nerves in her nipples were still going crazy from the electric stimulations they had received over hours. The muscles in her legs continued to occasionally twitch from the cramps the current had caused. And her whole body ached from the exhausting dance it had performed under the shocks.

Thanks to the ventilation gradually blowing the lingering cigarette smoke away, she now smelled her own sweat that covered all of her body. Her wet hair stuck to her face and her eyes burned from the perspiration running into them. And there was nothing she could change about it.

It started with a small sob, developed into a howl end eventually ended in a scream. A silent scream, since Anouk's harsh predicament prevented her from drawing enough breath. The oxygen her body could take in in this stretched position was barely enough to survive. To her, it felt like screaming out her agony and her despair would relieve her from it. But she could not. Her body refused to produce the liberating scream. And so it remained trapped inside her, driving her into madness.

Her nervous breakdown was interrupted when Fonseca, his assistant and the two soldiers returned from lunch. Seeing her agitated state, the agent ordered her to be lowered down a bit. Anouk almost thanked him for his mercy after her feet touched the tile floor again.

"So, have you made up your mind?", Fonseca challenged.

Anouk nodded. "I did it. I came to Ascua to recover the SD card and take it to Estoria. But I did not know about its contents."

Anouk added the latter sentence, although she thought that it would barely make a difference. Ignorance does not protect against punishment. After all, given the secret character of her mission and Annika's warnings, she would have been naive to assume the SD card would only hold anything so trivial like cookie recipes, ripped movies or funny cat memes.

"And on whose behalf did you act?"

Anouk hesitated to give her answer. She knew that this would be the part of her confession that would doom her ultimately.

"The Orange Hand. I have been working for them for the last eighteen months. That is why I travel to Estoria so often."

"Upon your arrest, a drug was found concealed in your vagina. The laboratory analysis has determined that it was a cyanide pill. Why did you carry this on you?"

"It was my 'insurance'. I was supposed to take it if I was captured."

"Looks like your plan has failed in a spectacular fashion", Fonseca scoffed. "Alright, that's enough for now. Mr. Tafalla will prepare your written confession and you will soon be asked to sign it. Then your case will be passed on to the criminal court. You do know which penalty our laws intend for espionage?"

Anouk sighed and hesitated for another moment. "Prison?"

"Exactly", Fonseca confirmed. Then he signaled towards Camilo and Diego to untie her. "Take Ms. De Vries back to her cell."

To be continued.
 
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