Chapter 1

The entire affair had been all wrong right from the beginning. It was not the right place. It was definitely the most inopportune of times. Even the subject was riddled with complexities that made the truth so elusive that the report would be utterly worthless.

He was one of those oddball individuals that had threads leading so many different directions that even when he was picked apart and unraveled down to the very core there was no acceptable degree of certainty that he was telling the truth.

Lily knew he had come across the border into Donetsk barely a week ago wearing a nondescript uniform without insignia and carrying a sniper rifle manufactured in Minsk. He was scooped up by the International Peacekeeping Force in an area heavily populated by pro-Russian militants. It was strange that the self-described "Pro-Russian militants" were usually Russian by birth or second generation and that they seldom had actual military experience.

His papers said he was Victor Smolanski but were probably recently made up for his assignment. His Russian was educated and definitely not watered down by Ukrainian distortions or slurring. He did have a couple of interesting tattoos that led Lily to believe he had at one time been a member of the "GRU" or the military intelligence wing of the Russian Army. Most of the old-time "KGB" operatives had faded away into obscurity but the GRU had actually flourished after the fall of the Soviet Empire.

It was rumored that they had survived due to highly profitable sales of excellent weaponry now useless without wars to fight in. Their business was so profitable that the war machinery industry made a major come-back in the remaining territory of the new Russia and they continued to supply client-states all over the world.

Lily had not been present during the "softening –up" phase of preparing the source but she assumed it had included all of the most popular methods to induce cooperation by the subject. Only the much maligned "waterboarding" was not used because of strict orders from higher up the chain of command. When she first came into contact with the subject, he was still referred to as Victor Smolanski and it was obvious to her that he had not been fully "broken" and was not ripe for direct questioning. The previous reports were in her opinion a well-defined "cover story" to mislead the IPF (International Peacekeeping Force) from finding the truth.

Lily was rather a small female who had a fetish for wearing junior undies with outlandish drawings of cartoon characters on the fabric covering her closely guarded private parts and fabulously fit hour-glass backside shaped like a perfect little heart. Her breasts were basically just a rounded area on her chest with nipples attached. She had made a point of gaining as much sexual experience as possible both before entering military service and even after signing up for the IPF. Lily did not want the sort of weakness that came from ignorance to cloud her skills as an interrogator.

The only area where she was lacking was in anal submission. She was reticent to give up her ego to the whims of a male in control. That was far worse in her eyes than the brief discomfort as a greedy shaft first entered her rear end entry point and established a beachhead in her trembling rectum. She did however manage to develop a way to satisfy an inquisitive cock with external movements that never failed to drain even the most jaded of misogynists of their bodily fluids. In fact, she had become somewhat addicted to the feel of a hard cock sliding in her crack and found it was the quickest way to full release for her personally. The sensation of the male liquids released on her skin and the sticky feel of the stuff to her fingers only made her desperate for a repeat performance.

She had become attracted to the field of interrogation when she had been put through a course in "Resistance to Interrogation" at the Army reserve training program at her university. Lily remembered in great detail how she had squirmed and pleaded for mercy on top of the table as the instructors introduced her to the sure-fire results of "waterboarding" a subject to induce cooperation. After a tearful episode that involved two male counterparts with complete control over her physical body, she surrendered her mental defenses and promised to be a good girl and tell them anything they wanted to know. It was a watershed experience because she had expected she would never "break" under duress or torture in such a situation. In fact, she even serviced the two fledgling interrogators in the privacy of her dorm room for the remainder of the school year provided they expose her to every aspect of "breaking" a detainee. It was the most exciting period of her university years.

The years in Iraq were formative in her interrogation technique. She practiced with gusto on the tired brown bodies in the prison and created some new approaches that were not written in any textbook. Lily had a collection of snapshots of her posing with various subjects in shocking states of undress and in suggestive positions that humiliated both their manhood and their religious beliefs. She had discovered the less-intelligent males had only their own egocentric male superiority and a belief in an unseen God to allow them to resist her advances. Once she had stripped them of their silly male dominance by humiliating them in their own eyes and made them realize the power of the flesh is stronger than the promise of a horde of virgins in paradise, she was able to gain their full cooperation and even eager desire to answer her every question both fully and with a high degree of truth.

The pay and the benefits with the IPF was a lot better than in the military and she was promoted to Team Commander in the field. Lily had three other interrogators working for her. None of them were females but that was just coincidence and not by design. The pool of interrogators was split about 50/50 between males and females and she felt personally that females made better interrogators than males because they seldom were distracted by emotional entanglements. The only member of the team she had any concerns about was Karl.

He was German, of course, and seemed to have great attachment to the more physical aspects of handling the subjects and less interest in getting useful intelligence. He was a brawny specimen standing over six feet tall and with heavily muscled arms and legs. His shaved head was almost obscene when he was in a sweat working over a subject and she loved to watch him go through his "breaking" routine. It was even more interesting when he had a female subject to work on and used the waterboarding technique combined with his unique full insertion stressing of the female private parts to confuse them as they coped with the problem of trying to breathe. She had a carefully concealed desire that he might do the same to her but she was reluctant to broach the subject because she knew he was a terrible blabbermouth and would most likely blurt it out to the others as soon as she was out of sight.

Smolanski was stretched out on the top of the table and he seemed quite calm despite the grave circumstances. He was completely stripped and the marks of his recent sessions were visible on his toned skin as were the ominous tattoos that carried hidden significance. Since she had decided to follow Karl's imaginative breaking technique, Lily stripped down to her panties after blindfolding the subject. She did not want him to see her trim petite body thinking she was too small or too weak to dominate him completely.

To distract him, she kept peppering him with probing questions about the sniper rifle even though she had no concern about it at all. Most of his responses were sheer bullshit so she knew he was still in a "Oh go fuck yourself!" mode and she would get little information that could be boiled down to useful intelligence.

He twisted his head to avoid the burlap bag but there was no escape.

"Get that fucking thing off my head, you little cunt, before I get pissed off!"

She ran her delicate fingers over his biceps admiring the definition and the sheer bulk of him. Lily looked down at his exposed tool and saw that the touch managed to stiffen his equipment not with resolve but with other thoughts on his mind.

"That's good, dear mystery man" she thought as her fingers traced a gentle line straight down to his hairy legs and groin.

Lily knew with familiar certainty that this source was not ready yet for actual questioning. That was for later when he was more cooperative. She stood above the bound man wearing only her "Happy Face" panties with the pink lace embroidery. With the blindfold and the sack on his head, he was unable to ogle her fresh nubile and petite body but she had a shuddering explosion inside just imagining his thoughts if he could see her above him in his helpless condition. She held the canteen of water in her hand and slowly sank down to straddle his thick muscular body. The man could feel the form of a female wrapped around his trunk and he ceased to struggle to escape.

Lily smiled with satisfaction. He was apparently heterosexual and that was a bit of a plus because a lot of these huge muscular brutes were of a different bent. It would give her an edge later on when the questioning began. She sat with eager appreciation right on his hardened equipment and let her junior panties rub happily on his engorged manhood. Lily was glad that the prior sessions with the less skilled interrogators did not involve damage to his tool because she tended to use that as a gateway to exploiting male instincts. Females were another story and she generally left the softening up phase to her male cohorts to prepare them properly for productive questioning.

She had seen in the report that the subject was of the Islamic persuasion and that he continued to pray even in captivity. That was her second key to opening up his mind to her sorting out process of interrogation. She had perfected her technique in the dark horrors of dirty Iraqi prisons with contrived stories of offensive female behavior and humiliating treatment that ridiculed their religious beliefs. When she used it in combination with deprivation of one or more of their senses, it was a lever that opened them up like a clam ready to be digested.

The overjoyed interrogator could feel him now right on her sensitive slit. He was unable to break through her smiling panties, so she pushed them to the side and he slipped inside her with an audible pop like a soda can being opened. She surrounded his pulsating flesh with her quivering core. He was panting hard now which was much better for the waterboarding. She leaned forward and slowly tipped the canteen until a trickle of water splashed down onto the evil-smelling burlap. The sack was saturated and soon the liquid began to soak through the material and into the subject's nostrils and mouth.

Smolenski, it that was truly his name, began to panic a bit as he lost the ability to breathe properly.

His tool was frantic now searching more for the deprived air than for her wet interior taking him in deeper than she was used to from her string of bed partners. She tried to hide her amusement because he was thrashing about with a frenzy that only brought her more pleasure. He was trying to talk now although she could make no sense of his perfectly spoken Russian because he was all confused not knowing if he should admit defeat and beg for air or thank her for the gift of spilling his seeds in a tight channel of feminine mystique.

Lily felt a stab of pity for him because he had spurted with enough force to drive her into immediate orgasm. She eased up on the water and pulled the burlap far enough away from his nostrils to allow him to suck in the oxygen he needed so desperately.