Chapter 5: The Fifth Day

Her last Session

The next day, Amy was dragged into a different interrogation room. A bright spotlight in the ceiling pointed down from the center of the room. The circle of light framed two iron posts, securely bolted to the floor. The posts were about four feet in height and four to five feet apart. The posts supported an iron bar approximately six feet long. Beneath the bar and centered between the posts was a corrugated wash tub filled with water.

Her guards pushed the naked Amy into the circle of light. Her wrist band was scanned Her hood was removed, but the cuffs and shackles remained in place. She could see a table and chair about six feet outside the circle.

The iron door opened. Alexander strode into the interrogation room. The dossier, under his arm appeared thicker. He set the dossier on the table and sat down. For the first time, Amy could make out his features. He had cropped blond hair, an aquiline nose, and penetrating blue eyes. Under other circumstances, Amy would have considered him cute.

“Name”, Alexander demanded sharply.

“497654N,” Amy replied wearily.

Prepare the prisoner, Alexander said.

Two guards forced Amy to a sitting position on the floor. The shackles were removed. A heavy rope secured Amy’s wrists in front. Sitting, her thighs were pressed against her chest, feet together flat on the floor. Amy was bent forward. Her arms were thrust over her knees and down to her shins. The iron bar was lifted from the posts and slid under her knees and over her bound wrists.

Her head barely missed striking the floor as the guards raised the bar with Amy dangling in the middle. The bar was replaced on the posts. Her head and torso extended downward from the bar. The ends of her hair barely touched the water in the washtub below. Her pussy and ass were open and on display, gaping upward. A terrible pressure was being applied to knees, thighs, and lower legs. She was light headed from her upside down position. And, she was totally incapacitated.

Alexander walked over. He kneeled beside Amy. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Let me explain your situation. You were observed by two witnesses participating in an anti-government riot. You openly urged insurrection in our own language. You defamed our dear leader. You assaulted a police officer. You are facing 10 to 20 years of hard labor in a prison camp for these crimes.”

Amy sobbed. This couldn’t be happening. She had come to visit the art museum and have some fun at the local university. She tried to grasp Alexander’s words. For the first time, she realized that she was in big trouble. No one was going to save her.

“Today, we get to the truth,” he whispered before returning to the table.

“Why did you come to this country?”

“Margaret and I wanted to see you national art museum.” Amy replied.

The iron bar was lifted off the posts and Amy was lowered head first into the corrugated wash tub. She thrashed about trying to keep her mouth and nose above water. Inevitably, she plunged down to her shoulders. Seconds passed. Amy panicked. A muffled scream exhaled the air in her lungs. Huge gulps of water were pulled back in. Her lungs were on fire. She violently twisted and turned desperate to get her head out of the water. The guards struggled to hold the bar steady as Amy thrashed in desperation.

The bar was lifted. Amy spewed water out of her mouth and nose. She was wracked by coughs that ripped her lungs and throat. Snot ran from her nose, between her eyes and down her forehead into her hair. Tears streamed from her eyes.

Three minutes later, she had regained some control of her body. She was still shaking from fear. She ached everywhere.

Alexander approached. He wiped the snot and tears from her face. He leaned close. “Why did you come to my country?”

Amy sputtered, trying to think of an acceptable answer as the guards lowered her into the wash tub.

“Please, No.” she wailed as her head dropped below the water line. Her body jerked in agony as water poured into her throat and lungs. Her violent movements splashed water on the floor and drenched Alexander.

She was pulled up and the bar was back on the posts. Alexander was beside her stroking her face.

“OK. We will try a different question.” Alexander remarked casually. “Who is your contact here? What is your relationship to your cellmate, Marja?”

Amy looked bewildered. The guards started to lower the bar. She screamed: “Wait! Wait! Marja. It is Marja.”she whined. “Marja made me do it. She ... she ... she... , “ Amy trailed off.

It had taken less than 30 minutes to break her.

“What is Marja’s last name?” The questions droned on. Amy implicated Marja deeper and deeper in any conspiracy that would save her from the washtub. Alexander was writing furiously in the dossier.

Amy remained hanging from the bar. Her legs had cramped. She sobbed uncontrollably. The pain wouldn’t stop. She let out a piercing scream as spasms shook her body.

Alexander gave a signal. The wash tub was moved to the side. Amy was lowered to the floor and the rod removed from under her knees. Her hands remained tied. She tried, but couldn’t straighten out her body.

She became aware that her head was in Alexander’s lap. He whispered soothing words as he caressed her cheeks. She was filled with gratitude for his small kindness. She squirmed in his lap. She felt a growing erection next to her face. All she had to do was twist a little and she would be able to grasp it into her mouth through his trousers.

She wanted to please him. She wanted to stop the torture. She had no dignity left. She searched his eyes, pleading silently. They were cold as ice. She knew that she was defeated.

Slowly, she turned and began to softly suck him through his pants. Alexander opened his trouser. Amy bent down and swallowed his cock. She sucked with long and slow strokes. She was exhausted, but she believed that her life depended on doing a good job.

She felt the guards’ eyes on the back of her bobbing head. She no longer cared. She tried to lift her bound hands to clasp the throbbing cock, but Alexander pushed them away. The semen filled her mouth, dribbles escaping from the corners. Again, she tried to lift her hands only to have them pulled back down.

Alexander looked down at Amy’s cum drenched face. Without a word, Alexander adjusted his trousers. The two guards lifted Amy by the arms, hooded her. The ropes were untied. Her hands again cuffed behind her back. The leg irons were attached.

She was frog marched back to her cell by one of the guards. The guard threw her against the far wall. The hood was removed. A naked Amy faced the wall, on her knees, hands interlaced at the top of her. She vaguely wondered where was Marja, but her attention quickly turned to the sound of the Guard’s trousers being unzipped behind her.

He pulled her back and around facing his exposed penis. He pulled her roughly to him. Amy reluctantly opened here mouth to accept him. After he came, he pushed her to the concrete floor.

She lay in a ball crying as she heard his retreating footsteps and the slam of the iron cell door. They had taken everything from her. She had no spirit, no will, nothing but a husk of a human being.

She donned her jumpsuit. Alone in the cell, she waited for her evening gruel. She tried to pull her life together. She no longer expected any rescue. Alexander’s dry words outlining her crimes echoed in her head. The idea of ten to twenty years in a brutal prison terrified her.

The gruel was delivered along with a woolen blanket. She wrapped herself in the blanket, slurping the gruel. Amy hardly noticed the roaches as she munched them down. She fell on her bunk exhausted. She didn’t rouse when the guards came to collect the bowl even as they threatened to beat her for not kneeling at the wall.