Maria

Part 2

MARIA PART 2

Maria awoke in almost total darkness. For a moment she was afraid she'd lost her
sight until she turned her head and saw a strip of light at the bottom of a
door. She was lying crumpled on the floor of a tiny cell, too small even for her
to stretch out. She was naked, hands cuffed behind her back and legs manacled
with perhaps a foot of chain between her ankles. Her entire body ached and her
left side, on which she had been lying, was numb. Her mouth was parched and she
was desperate for a drink. She wanted to call out but had no energy in her
lungs. Gradually, she became aware that she was lying in a pool of liquid which
from the smell was probably urine.

She did not seem to have suffered any permanent injury from the earlier torture
session which she now remembered with a shudder. Without any sense of time
having passed, she had no idea how long she had lain unconscious. But despite a
throbbing shoulder which she suspected was dislocated and avoided moving, and
the soreness of virtually all the muscles in her body, she was unharmed. However
much worse was the psychological damage and as she began to remember she started
to panic and she opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. She began to
hyperventilate and struggle against her bonds.

Clearly her movements had been heard outside because at that moment a panel at
the base of the steel door slid back and a plastic bowl was pushed through.
Before she could say anything, the panel was slammed shut and the sound of
retreating footsteps could be heard. She could just make out the shape of the
bowl in the semi-darkness. She desperately hoped it contained water and,
forgetting her trauma for the time being, manoeuvred herself so that she could
reach it with her mouth. This was difficult in her bound state, and as she
gingerly bent her head down to the bowl she was fully aware that she was feeding
like an animal. Thankfully, the bowl did contain water and she slurped up the
valuable liquid as quickly as she could while being careful not to spill it.

Her mouth and lips were still very dry but at least they felt less like
sandpaper and she collapsed again on the floor, exhausted by the small exertion.
She immediately fell asleep. She slept deeply but, fortunately, dreamlessly and
lay motionless, apparently lifeless.

She was awoken by a banging at the door and, as she was dragging open her
eyelids across scratchy eyes, the door swung open and she saw two silhouettes
towering above her. As she was lifted the blood drained from her head and again
she fainted.

She awoke with a start as someone waved smelling salts under her nose. Her head
jerked back and she found herself in a metal chair, wrists chained behind her
back and ankles chained to the chair's legs. She was in a new room, white-walled
and windowless with light provided by a single, buzzing fluorescent strip in the
ceiling. A man in a white coat busied himself at a table. To her left, on the
far side of the room, was a wooden post with various slots cut into it. She felt
a hand grab her right arm and saw the glint of a needle before it pricked her
flesh. The man began emptying the contents of a large syringe into a vein. It
took some time and she vomited about halfway through the procedure. She heard
the man, whom she assumed was a doctor, curse.

After a few minutes she began to feel better. The aching in her muscles waned a
little and she felt stronger. The doctor turned to her holding a plastic bottle
and, yanking back her head back by the hair, rammed the top between her teeth.
Squeezing, he ordered her to drink and she gratefully gulped down the salty
water, choking and spluttering as she tried to keep up with the flow. She had
finished about half the contents when the doctor withdrew the bottle and poured
the rest over her chest and stomach, washing most of the vomit onto the floor.
Then, without a word, he put back the bottle and left the room. She heard the
sound of a key being turned in the lock.

She sat there for some time, apprehensive. Her worries about what would happen
next prevented her dwelling on what had been done to her earlier. This she
recognised and actively tried to concentrate on the present. She stared at the
empty syringe on the table and wondered vaguely if she could somehow get to it
and conceal it but she was chained tight to the chair, which would not move on
the floor.

Abruptly she heard a key turn in the lock and the door was flung open. Two men
entered, checking her over as they did. One moved behind her and started
loosening her wrists. The other carried a red plastic bucket the size of a small
trough, which was evidently heavy with liquid sloshing inside. She recognised
this man. Putting down the bucket near to the wooden post, he called to the
first "Bring her over" and she was led across the room, surprised that she could
walk again. When she reached the post she was ordered onto her knees and, with
her back to the post, the first man proceeded to tie her hands and ankles behind
the post using two pairs of handcuffs. As he did so, he noticed the dark bruises
on her limbs: she had been tied for a good while.

As she leant against the pole and tucked in her toes she felt fairly comfortable
for the first time in a long while, despite the hard stone floor against her
knees. But Maria realised again with rising anxiety that something was going to
be done to her. Her heart beat faster and she felt bile rise in her throat. She
had lost sight of the other, but the man she recognised was dragging the bucket
towards her. He positioned it a couple of feet in front of her knees. She turned
her head away as he looked at her and she heard him speak.

"Seems like you're useless under electrical torture" he said. "Let's try
something different".  He nodded in the direction over her right shoulder.
Immediately she felt a fist grab her by the hair and force her head forward. The
cleft of her buttocks was rammed hard into the post and she would have crashed
onto the floor had she not been restrained by her cuffed wrists. Her head was
pushed into the bucket, water splashing onto the stone tiles around it. She had
had no chance to take a breath and at once she started to choke and thrash
wildly. But the firm hand held her head in place under the water.

Just as she thought her lungs would burst, her head was yanked back out and
released, leaving the girl coughing and wheezing. Seconds later she felt her
hair being pulled again and she just had time to take a breath before being
plunged for a second time into the bucket. She heard muffled voices and tried to
hold her breath for as long as she could. After just a short time the men saw
her begin to thrash but they held her in position until they could see that she
was about to drown before withdrawing her.

"Please no" the girl was crying but again and again they held her under. They
recognised the pattern: she would hold still for a while, trying to keep the air
in her lungs. Then, when she realised she could hold on no longer, she would
start thrashing violently. Finally, she would go limp and at this point they
would pull her out. Periodically, one of the men would ask her if she wanted to
talk but each time she shook her head and they pushed her back.

After a while, the girl clearly exhausted and on the point of collapsing, it
became apparent that so much water had spilled out that the bucket was losing
its effectiveness.

"I'm going off to get some cigarettes" said the man who had brought in the
bucket. "Strap her up will you".

The man went over to the table and, opening a drawer underneath, picked out
several items including a collar on with a few links of chain attached to it. He
placed the collar around the girl's neck, tightening it against her
still-spasming throat, and attached the chain to a fixture in the pole. In doing
so, he lifted up the girl's body so that she was now kneeling erect against the
pole. Next he picked up a gag with a thick rubber bit and leather straps and,
after forcing it between the girl's teeth, fixed it in place. She continued to
cough through the gag. He then took a strap and, placing it across her forehead,
buckled it around the pole, forcing her head back against the wood. Moving
around in front of her, and trying to avoid her eyes -unlike some of his
colleagues he didn't like to see the expressions on his victims' faces-he picked
up a metal pole with leather straps at each end. Forcing the girls legs apart,
causing her to strain further against the collar, he fastened the straps to her
knees. As he was doing so, he heard the sound of choking from above.

The other man returned and was pleased with what he saw. The girl, on her knees
against the pole, was held fast. Her wide eyes followed him around the room and,
although he could not make out her words through the gag, he suspected that she
was pleading with him. Her chest heaved as she tried to control her breathing,
her breasts rising and falling rhythmically. Most of the water had run off and
her skin was covered with small droplets. Her nipples stood out proud and he
watched a particularly large drop hang on one of them. As the pink tip quivered,
he saw it fall to the floor.

He had brought with him a folding chair which he placed next to her and sat
down. When he stroked her cheek she tried to pull away. Holding her by one of
the rings in the gag, he moved her head from side to side.

He was wearing a white shirt and proceeded to unbutton the cuffs and roll up his
sleeves. Taking a new packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket he removed the
wrapping. He saw the girls eyes dart between his face and the packet as he did.
He took out a cigarette and replaced the packet. Stretching to dig into his
trousers, he pulled out a silver lighter and lit up. Inhaling deeply he filled
his lungs with the hot smoke and blew it out over her face. Because he was not a
regular smoker, he felt a rush from the nicotine.

Smiling at her, he took her left breast in his hand, holding it up. The girl
again flinched but was unable to move significantly. The tip of his cigarette
glowed bright as he inhaled again. Taking it out of his mouth, he brought it
towards the trembling girl and pressed the tip against her nipple. Despite the
restraints, the girl's body jerked and fought and she let out a wild scream
which was muffled by the gag. He held the tip in placed for a few seconds then
withdrew it, leaving a black mark on the breast. The girl continued to scream as
he drew on the butt again. 

He repeated this procedure on the girl's right nipple, extracting more peals of
anguish from her as he ground the tip into her tender pink flesh.

"Would you like to talk to me now?" he asked her. Moaning, she managed to nod
slightly under the strap around her forehead. "Good" he said.

He stubbed out the cigarette on the floor and casually took out another from the
packet. The girl's eyes fell and he heard her wail "No" as he lit up again. He
then proceeded to burn the girl across her breasts and torso, the tip hissing as
it met her sweaty skin. Pulling her forward with his hand in the small of her
back, he produced a neat line of marks across the girl's abdomen just below her
navel and he brushed away the ash with the back of his hand. The girl's eyes
were tightly closed, and as she screamed saliva ran down her chin and onto the
floor. She struggled in her bonds, choking herself in the collar and chafing her
knees on the rough stone floor.

"Take out her gag" he told his companion. The latter found this difficult, as
the girl, in terror, had locked her teeth hard against the rubber and he had to
hold her nose to get it out. He also removed the head strap, allowing her head
to flop forward.

Picking up a clipboard on which some sheets of writing paper were mounted, the
interrogator invited her to talk.

Maria felt as if she had been stung by hornets all over her body. She looked
down and saw her nipples, blackened and swollen, and other marks across her
chest. She began to weep. When he questioned her, she told him whatever he
wanted to know without hesitation. She was quite broken. Every so often he would
pull out another cigarette, light up, and start smoking. Every time she could
not take her eyes off the glowing red tip, terrified that he would use it on her
again.

Satisfied with the results, the man put down his clipboard. "Well, that was
easy, wasn't it?" he said, smugly. Looking at his companion, he asked "One
more?" and, from the smile on his face, Maria knew that the other man had
nodded. The man still held an unfinished cigarette in his hand. Raising it to
his lips, he blew gently against the tip, making it glow temporarily brighter.
Grabbing her by the hair, he held the tip close to the girl's face. She felt the
heat on her skin and tried to turn away. Then he let go of her hair and, bending
down, put his free hand between her legs, cupping her snatch. She was powerless
to prevent him, the metal bar holding her thighs rigidly apart. He spread her
labia with his second and third fingers and played with the folds of flesh. By
now the girl was pleading desperately with him, telling him she'd do anything,
that he could have her any way he wanted. To himself, he agreed with her, and
pressed the burning tip of the cigarette against her clitoris.

Prisoners in cells farther down the corridor, accustomed as they were to hearing
disembodied screams on a frequent basis, nonetheless jumped in alarm as they
heard a woman's demented shriek echoing through the building.