BDSM Library - Wifes interrogation

Wifes interrogation

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Synopsis: A wife is sold for an horrific film
Josh sold his wife

Chapter 1

 

Josh sold his wife.

 

He felt no remorse, or fear of what he had done, just an excitement deep within him, of what would be done, he would see, hear, smell and enjoy.

 

Josh had dreamt of it for years, to see his wife tortured, raped, begging, used. Not because of any hatred for her, or of anything she had done, but simply because of how erotic it would be, how beautiful she would be in the throes of agony and humiliation.

 

They of course had dabbled at home, in the bedroom after a bottle or two of wine, some light bondage, a bit of rough sex and role-play, but Helen had never been prepared to take it further, out of the bedroom and into a reality.

 

Josh had asked as he played, explored her, fucked her, as she panted under him, or hung from the hook in the bedroom, she would never say no, only perhaps, or maybe one day – but Josh knew one day would never come willingly.

 

So Josh resigned himself to his dreams, and until recently had thought that was all it would ever be. He acted it out in his mind during sex on a Saturday night, and talked about it with strangers on the internet, but had never imagined it would possibly go further. But now here he was – he had sold her.

 

Sold her for what? Josh had traded a few pictures of her on the internet, she was a good looking girl, 29, blond, real strong personality, proud and independent, turned heads and knew how to tease. Average height, 5’5 and about 55kg, gym toned with a good waist, flat tummy, firm b cup breasts and good strong legs and ass, yes she certainly turned heads and caught the eye.

 

She caught their eye. They first made contact via email, then one thing led to another and Josh ended up having dinner with them, discussing her, them and what they did, and wanted to do.

 

They made films, hard, tough films, mainly for the Asian market, though they were eastern European and spoke with think accents. Helen was good material, just the sort of thing that sold films in Asia. A white American girl with looks and attitude, the type many Asians would like to spend a night playing with and punishing. Possibilities were discussed, scenarios worked over and an opportunity suggested.

 

Helen and Josh would take a sight seeing holiday in Poland. A romantic week for their anniversary. They would be quietly filmed for a couple of days as an introduction to the main events. Some drugs would then be planted on Helen and the gang, posing as government officials would arrest her as a drug trafficker. She was then to be questioned and ultimately interrogated about information she must have and her contacts, although of course she had nothing to tell, or anything to stop the torture. Helen would assume the whole thing was real and believe Josh to also have been ‘arrested’. In reality Josh would be able to watch and hear the whole thing through 2 way mirrors.

 

The photos of where it was to be done excited Josh. The gang had brought an abandoned facility which had, until recently been used by the CIA for secretly entertaining Al Qaeda guests. Exposure had resulted in them quickly moving on, and the facility was sold fully equipped. It was isolated, and dug into the ground. Apart from the usual offices and cells there were three main rooms for working on suspects. One was used as an office, desk, chairs etc.. One resembled a lecture room, where perhaps 50 tiered chairs ran down to a little stage in the middle. The final one would be best described as a modified operating theatre. White tiled floor and walls, a steel table with straps in the middle, steel cabinets and chairs, interspaced with pulleys, chains, hooks and wires.

 

So Helen was sold.

 

It was hot in Krakow, the height of summer, the temperature soaring to 35C by midday. Helen showed herself off well. A variety of shorts and cropped t-shirts, little floral summer dresses, tight jeans and of course a bikini by the hotel pool. Josh was hard almost the entire time, knowing the camera was on her, close up shots from a distance, examining her figure, her personality, the way her clothes hung on her tight body, but he never saw it. At night in the city bars, a couple of times Josh saw his contacts, sitting at a table close by, with 6, sometimes 8 other guys, drinking, laughing, throwing Helen glances now and again, talking quietly, only a whisper against the general noise of the bar.

 

They came for her on the third day in the evening just as darkness closed in, 4 guys nicely dressed in sharp suits emerging from two black cars which pulled up next to them as they walked back to the hotel after an afternoon shopping. The road was quiet, a one-way back street Josh and Helen had found as a short cut back to the Hotel.

 

They came up quickly, 2 behind, 2 in front, 1 flashing an official looking id card and explaining that they were government security. Bags were searched and a several bags of powder were found in Helens handbag. Josh and Helen protested as it was explained in thick broken English that they were being arrested and would have to accompany the officers for investigation. Handcuffs were snapped on and Helen was bundled into the back of the first car, and Josh into the second, their shopping bags being thrown into the boot. Once moving the guy sitting next to Josh removed his handcuffs explaining that Helen would not be as lucky, but for the moment nothing further would happen to her as the hidden camera in her car had stopped working on the way to collect her. As Josh was going to find out, everything involving Helen was done in front of the cameras.

 

The drive was not long, maybe an hour and though nervous and excited Josh passed the time bu discussing sports, food and Helen. All the time he had a fixed image in his mind of her standing handcuffed in her white sneakers, denim shorts and grey t-shirt as she protested her innocence and remained her calm composed self.

 

He watched at a distance from the car as Helen was led between 2 ‘officers’ into the building. Building may have been the wrong term, a bunker would be appropriate. They were in dense woodland and in front of them was a large grassy mound with a well fitting steel door carefully concealed in the side. Helen had apparently been told Josh would be taken to a separate location for questioning, but that it was likely he would shortly be released, as she was the one with the drugs, and from their surveillance, clearly the only guilty person. It struck him how small she appeared sandwiched between 2 big 6ft men, though well built and tough by her gym training, she appeared very vulnerable in with her bare legs and arms shining in the moonlight.

 

Josh and his 2 accomplices followed Helen into the bunker a couple of minutes later. A set of steps led down about 20 feet and a well lit concrete corridor led to an end where several doors led off to other parts of the complex. Josh followed through one in the center marked ‘observation’. The room was comfortably carpeted and decorated with a fridge of beer in one corner and various comfy chairs arranged facing wall mirrors which dominated the room on every side. One mirror appeared as window to the office next door where Helen had been sat on a chair facing a desk, her arms pulled back and handcuffed behind to the steel chair frame. The room was otherwise empty of people. The observation room filled with perhaps 12 guys, some taking seats to view the lit room next door, others collecting beers before standing to talk. One explained to Josh that all rooms were arranged around the observation room, and each could be seen through one of the 2 way mirrors set in the walls, whilst sound was relayed over a loud speaker system.

 

One by one the guys in the room settled down to watch…

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

Watching Helen sitting in the chair was an experience in itself. Her arms were pulled tight behind her by the cuffs, defining their toned shape as they strained. Her chest was lifted and pushed out by her tight arms and her nervous panting, whilst a little of her flat tummy could be glimpsed below her slightly too short t-shirt. The shorts also did little to cover her modesty, framing her gym fit legs beautifully, and allowing the odd glimpse of her sheer black string as she struggled to take in her surroundings and situation, her movements could have been the start of some erotic floor show – indeed, they were.

 

After a few minutes of enjoying the dancing of Helens body as she struggled in the chair, a door opened, and one by one, five guys, all at least 6ft and suited and booted slowly and deliberately entered. One took the seat behind the desk, and the other 4, having pretended to turn on and arrange the already on video camera, took up positions either side of Helen.

 

Questions and statements came over the loud speakers in the observation room. The large bag of drugs was placed on the desk, Helens voice, angry, confused, offering strained denials, statements of having the wrong girl, threats of the embassy, demands for a phone call, questions about Josh. The guys around Josh were quiet, excited, watching intently as Helens arrogance and defiance in the face of the situation became clear.

 

Behind the desk the man explained, patiently, calmly to Helen that she had been caught red handed. She needed to co-operate, help herself by giving the information she had, to make it easy on herself, but also to be clear, she was guilty, and that they would have the information she had, however it was to be gained. Helen was denying everything, calling them idiots, that she was the wrong girl, when the embassy found out etc.. The man again explained, they were licensed by the government, they had many extremely unpleasant options available, but he did not want to ruin her, destroy her, such a pretty girl, much better she talk now.

 

Helen started offering more forceful and angry denials and threats, her metal chair shaking as she replied, her body putting on a real cute show. The attitude of the man behind the desk started changing, growing firm forceful, but controlled. He told her she was a liar, an enemy of the state, she would tell him what he needed to know, but first she would be searched, for drugs and weapons, and then perhaps she would comply with his demands.

 

Motioning, Helens cuffs were undone and with hands on her shoulders Helen was made to stand. Immediately she bolted for the door, desperately pulling at its handle, only to realize it was locked, and turning back to the now smiling men in the middle of the room.

 

The man from behind the desk walked over to her, ‘I will give you one chance’, he said, ‘remove your clothing!’ Helen appeared to think for what seemed like an eternity, offering her usual denials and threats, before suddenly spitting hard in his face. The man turned, walking away, wiping the spittle from his now reddening face. ‘That is going to cost you,’ he almost whispered in his controlled anger – and possible delight. Beckoning to two of the other men they moved to Helen, dragging her from the corner she had retreated into and dragging her to the middle of the room. With one guy on each arm they then forced her wrists back up between her shoulder blades, almost lifting her off the floor, and causing Helen to wince and scowl.

 

It can have been no coincidence that Helen was being held at a 45 degree angle to the mirror and the camera, offering both an excellent and unobstructed view to the event to come. What a view, she could well have been on a rack, standing on tiptoe, her body drawn taut and strained by her arms forced hard up her back. Her firm chest pushed out and drawing the t-shirt even further up her stomach, a full 4 or 5 inches of flat toned tummy visible above her far too low cut tight shorts, and finished off below with her straining smooth legs.

 

The man moved in front of her, smiling, looking, running his had down her side from her shoulder, past her breasts, into the hourglass of her stomach and down her legs. ‘Shoes first’ he said. Helen winced again as he lifted first one, then the other leg off the floor and removed her trainers, momentarily shifting all her weight onto her arms. He made a show of examining her shoes inside and out, before placing them behind him on the floor. Next he came forward to a point where his face was almost touching Helens. His hands came up suddenly and grasped the neck of her t-shirt, pulling violently once, twice and ripping it open from neck to waist. Then something amazing happened, Helen spat hard in his face again! He turned away, again wiping away the spittle, before calmly turning to her. ‘You will pay for that in ways you can’t imagine, but not yet…’ Producing a craft knife from his pocket her proceeded to cut away the remains of Helens t-shirt as Helen struggled in the firm grip of the aides. What a view.  Helens good shaped b cup breasts were beautiful in the sheer black bra she was wearing, the shadow of her average sized nipples clearly visible, and her flat tummy, taut and showing the shape of her panting ribs.

 

Moving down he unbuttoned her shorts, slowly, before moving in with the knife to free them from her hips, and placing them on the pile with her trainers and top. He stood back, ensuring all had a good view of the struggling Helen in her bra and sheer black string, motioning her captors to turn her round, ensuring a good view of her toned back, and the string running up the cleft of her shaved, Latin ass, still firm and pert, not yet sagging with age. Motioning again they faced her forwards and we all craned to better see her flat tummy running down into her sheer panties, and finishing in the clear shadow of her bare shaved slit.

 

The bra came off next, the knife slowly slid up between the cups, and then almost in slow motion the bra fell away, her breasts swinging slightly from their containment, but remaining high, pert and well shaped, smooth and inviting with their nipples erect and pointing. Helen was now struggling and swearing like crazy, spitting, threatening. The knife again went to work, first one side of her knickers, then the other revealing her bare shaved pussy and the little pink slit, desperately hidden as Helen tried, unsuccessfully to cross her legs, finding that they had to remain apart to take the weight off her arms.

 

His hands ran over her body, exploring her firm shape, cupping her breasts, moving to and gently rubbing her pussy, commenting on how strong she was, and how sensitive. Helen was turning her head away, closing her eyes, shaking with the fury and embarrassment she surely felt.

 

Turning back to him she screamed ‘see, I am hiding nothing!’ ‘But we haven’t finished checking you yet’, he replied calmly. Motioning to the four men, he told them to put Helen on the desk. Josh watched as swiftly the 4 men each grabbed one of Helens legs and arms, and carried his naked wife struggling, screaming and kicking over to the desk. They dumped her hard on her back, momentarily knocking the breath from her. The two on her arms pulled them back and down tight, the two on her legs struggled to hold her taut and still, spreading her legs about 4 foot apart, and pulling her legs about a foot down below the desktop. The effect was to display a stretched and naked Helen for all to see, breasts and stomach heaving and sexy on the desk, head rising to see, and bare cunt slightly opened by her spread legs.

 

Every man in the observation room was quietly commenting about what they would do to her when it was their turn, and how they planned take their ‘pound of flesh’. The man moved between Helens legs, stroking his hands over her body, enjoying every curve as she struggled against her captors, deeply enjoying the curved straining of her body. ‘Now’ he said, ‘let’s see if you have anything in your pussy Helen’. Placing his large dry hand at the opening to her slit he began to slowly work his hand in.

 

It was quite a show. Josh was impressed, he knew his wife was tough, but not once did she scream, she bit her lip, banged her head hard on the desk, contorted her already tight body, glistened with sweat, but not once would she scream. After about 10 minutes the mans hand was buried past the knuckles, but it took another 15 to get it in to the wrist. Her pussy eventually gave suddenly and his hand disappeared to the wrist. Josh thought that the desk would collapse with the violence of her writhing at that point, but still Helen remained silent. As the man felt about inside her, dragging his nails across her sensitive membranes, stretching her hard, and seeing the distortion of her flat tummy, the man smiled at her, ‘you are tough, but if you don’t talk, this could be a very bad night for you Helen’.

 

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