The interrogation was not going well. The suspect, a woman known to have ties to a subversive organization, had not uttered a word in the two days that she had been held in the safe house. It had been necessary to call in ‘The Breaker’, a man with a reputation of being able to get any information from any person, by any means necessary.
The two of them were alone in the room, he sitting in a chair as she stood before him. She was dressed in a red summer dress, its fabric clinging to her body. He gazed at her, trying to get a fix on her personality. She held his gaze, her eyes filled with anger and arrogance. He could see why they called him; she would not give up anything to him without a struggle.
“Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”, he said quietly as he studied her, looking for a vulnerable spot. She was small with a voluptuous body, full breasts above ample hips, the stiletto heels she wore making her legs look especially attractive. Long, red, curly hair surrounded a pale face with big, brown eyes, and a pink, seductive mouth. He was surprised at his reaction to her; usually he viewed his subjects as nothing more than prey to be captured and broken. It had been years since he’d been stirred by a woman. He and his wife had stopped being intimate after the birth of their last child, though it was hard to become intimate with a woman who viewed sex as a penance to be endured. He stood up and walked towards her. She braced herself as he drew nearer.
He stood behind her, towering over her. Even wearing heels she couldn’t have been taller than 5’5”, and the size disparity between the two of them made him feel he could easily dominate the situation. He lowered his mouth to her ear and said, “Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”.
She shifted her weight slightly but continued her silence. He stood there a moment, then took hold of her dress and unzipped the back, pulling it off her body. She gasped and tried to move away from him, but he was too quick. He grabbed both of her hands and hand cuffed them behind her back. She stood there in only her bra and panties. Perhaps the lack of clothes would increase her sense of vulnerability and break her.
He sat again in the chair, gazing at her body. She had been unnerved by his stripping her, but her will was strong, and as she gained her composure the look of arrogance once again masked her lovely face. He sat silently, allowing himself the pleasure as he viewed her form. She was in good shape for a woman her age, curvy and soft. Two tattoos adorned her torso, confirmation of her political affiliation. He was slightly distracted by the ache in his groin as he sat there. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. Perhaps he could scare her into giving him what he needed.
“Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”, he repeated once again. A small, mocking smile appeared on her lips, a smile he’d seen all too often on his wife’s face. Enraged he jumped to his feet and went to her; she took a step backwards but started to fall as she was unable to keep her balance without the use of her hands. He grabbed her by the arm to steady her, and then stood behind her as he reached into his pants pocket. His hand brushed against his engorged shaft as he pulled out a switch blade knife. He flicked it open in front of her, enjoyed the shudder of fear that it extracted from her. Holding the knife in his right hand he wrapped his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his body. He pushed his groin into her ass as he once again whispered in her ear, “Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”.
He felt her start to shake against him. He buried his face into her sweet smelling hair and continued to grind into her. He loosened his grip slightly and brought the blade down towards her shoulder. She tried to break free but the blade came down and cut the left strap of her bra. He repeated the movement on the right side, slicing through the thin material. He moved his hand to her back and cut the remaining material. His left hand pulled the bra away from her breasts and threw it to the floor. He returned to his seat to survey the results of his work.
She wasn’t quite so arrogant now. With her hands behind her back she had no way to cover herself, and stood slightly hunched over as if to protect herself. He lost his composure slightly as he looked at her standing there. Her breasts were perfect, naturally large with huge brown areolas. A small metal bar pierced each nipple, signifying her rank within the organization. He was grateful to sit down; he could feel the blood draining from his head as it settled in his cock, his breathing becoming quicker and shallow the more time he spent with her. He took several deep breaths to calm himself. It took him a minute to maintain the steadiness to his voice.
“Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”. This time the words came out strained instead of demanding, and he looked away to center himself. When he looked back at her she had grounded herself, was standing straight again, her eyes looking over his head. He took a moment to assess the situation. Once again he stood and walked towards her, standing behind her. He placed his right hand on her stomach; his left cupped her right breast. She drew in her breath as he touched her. He let his mouth fall to her neck, letting his tongue and lips and teeth taste her flesh. “Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”.
This time the words were a plea, desperate sounding, and he cursed himself for loosing control. His hands moved over her body. He started to move his right hand into her panties between her legs but she clamped them shut; he moved his knee between them and forced his hand down, feeling her soft muff in his fingers. He bit her neck harder as he rubbed her, his fingers become slick and sticky.
She cried out and he wasn’t sure if it was in grief or pain, but he didn’t care. He was able to rub his groin in her bound hands; she caressed him as he pressed harder into her. They stood like that for a long time. Her breathing came quicker as he moved his hand deeper and deeper into her. Still she wouldn’t answer his question.
He pulled away from her, light headed. He was finding it difficult to maintain his composure with her, felt his needs as a man gaining the upper hand. He staggered to the table and poured himself a shot of brandy; twice he gulped the liquid, relishing the burning sensation as it slid down his throat. He took a deep breath and turned to look at her; she was bent over, her head down, taking deep breathes in order to keep calm. A sense of admiration swept over him as he looked at her. She was obviously not a woman to be trifled with.
He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He moved towards her again. She braced herself, waiting for the next assault on her. He stood before her. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. He looked into her eyes, unsure of what he wanted to see. She looked back, the anger and resentment growing in them. He hated that look, hated the way it made him feel. He took the tie in his hands, a gift from his wife on their last anniversary, and wrapped it around her eyes. She tried to move away but the lose of her sight added to her lack of coordination. She stood there, unable to move. He unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, took her face in his hands and kissed her.
She didn’t respond, kept her mouth hard and closed. He continued to kiss her, gently. She began to reciprocate, tentatively at first, then willingly taking his tongue in her mouth, their naked torsos pressing against each other. He broke away from her mouth to bite her throat and again said, “Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”.
She pulled away, sadness covering her lips. He allowed his tongue to travel freely down her body, suckling each breast, her nipples rock hard from the attention. He knelt before her, his face resting against her groin. He let his hands run up her legs. Her legs began to shake as he pulled her panties down. He closed his eyes as he deeply inhaled her scent. He sat on his heels, and placing his thumbs on either side of her lips, he pulled them apart and gave her the deepest French kiss she’d ever received.
She moaned and her knees began to buckle as he sucked her. He tried to hold her weight up but couldn’t, so he lowered himself onto his back as she dropped to her knees, his tongue probing and licking her. She began to move her hips back and forth, moaning and sighing as he continued his work. Her thighs began to shake violently as she climaxed, a sweet drop of dew falling into his mouth. He slid out from under her as she collapsed on the floor. He still had the taste of her in his mouth. It had been a long time since he’d eaten a woman. His wife thought it was sinful. He crawled over to her and gently caressed her hair. “Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go”.
She lay quietly on the floor. She tried to sit up and couldn’t. He reached over and pulled her to her knees. She shook her head no.
He studied her in amazement. Most women would have broken by now. She was obviously a cut above the rest. He pulled her to her feet and pushed her into the next room, throwing her onto an old brass bed that was there. He slammed the door shut. He could feel anger welling up inside him, and fought hard not to let his emotions get the better of him. He paced the floor, trying to calm down. She was curled up on the bed, blind folded and bound, naked except for her shoes. He glanced at them, sharp stilettos which could do serious damage if she were to stab at him. He went to the bed and removed them, then sat and tried to figure out his next move.
The room was growing dark; he was running out of time. The others would be back soon. He moved closer to her and removed the blind fold. She blinked twice and turned to look at him. Her eyes were tired and red, as if she’d been crying. There was one more thing he could try. He stood up and started to undress. He turned towards her, naked and aroused. He went to her, sat her up and said, “Suck me”.
She looked deep into his eyes, shame deepening her cheeks. “Untie me first”, she finally said.
He returned her gaze. Could he trust her? His gut reaction was no. “No”, he said. “Show me I can trust you, and then I’ll untie you”. She didn’t like that answer and he could see her starting to close down again. He picked up the tie that had been around her eyes and placed it between her legs. She looked surprised as he began to draw it back and forth between her legs, gently masturbating her. A small smile flickered across her lips and she knelt forward towards his groin, taking him into her mouth. He threw his head back in ecstasy as she wrapped her tongue around his shaft. One hand continued to rub her pussy with the tie while the other dug deep into her thick curly hair. The two of them pleasured each other as time began to run out. He was so close to climaxing, he wanted so much to cum in her mouth. He pulled her away from him and cried, “Give me what I want and you’ll be free to go."
“Untie me first." Her eyes were ablaze with desire.
He struggled off the bed and groped for the keys in his pants pocket. He came up behind her and started to remove the hand cuffs when she broke free of his grasp. She started to run for the door but he caught her and threw her face down on the bed. He lost his temper, and fell with his full weight on top of her. He held her hands above her head as he pushed her legs apart with his knees. He plowed into her from behind; taking what had been denied him for too many years. She struggled beneath him as he fucked her. He lifted his body briefly to turn her on her back, plunging deep into her once more. She clawed at his back; bit his chest, her legs locked around his waist. Finally he climaxed and dropped into her arms. He rolled off of her onto his back. It was almost completely dark. The others would be back soon.
They lay quietly together on the bed. He reached over and gently caressed the back of her hair. She turned to him and brushed her hand against his cheek.
“It’s getting late” she said.
“I know”, he sighed.
“They’ll be back soon."
“I know." He pulled her closer to him.
“I need to get dressed”. She tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let go.
“Not yet. Don’t go yet."
She sighed and turned towards him. “If my sister finds us here in your bed together they’ll be holy hell to pay." She kissed him gently on the lips, wiggled out of his grip and went into the other room to retrieve her clothes.
He looked at the ceiling and thought about his life. A middle age man playing out interrogation fantasies with his sister in law. Married to a woman who hated sex. It was pitiful.
She came back into the room, dressed, looking presentable. “Come on, get dressed, she and the kids will be home soon."
He sat up and took her hand. “I married the wrong sister."
“You knew that twenty years ago."
“Maybe we should correct that mistake."
She looked at him with a sad smile. “No, we can’t. We’ve made our bed. We have to lie in it."
She left the room and he got up and began to dress. The tie his wife gave him lay crumbled and stained, abandoned under the bed.
©2009 VL Sheridan