Wifes interrogation

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’.