Tanya's Torment

by Tessa Valmur

  ‘What country?’ he demanded.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘What country you from?’

  ‘I’m English,’ Tanya answered.

  ‘You prisoner?’

  Tanya was about to answer “no” but then in a flash she saw that perhaps to admit to not being a prisoner yet being found in the situation that she was in could lead her into deep water so she quickly replied that yes, she was a prisoner. The men though looked far from convinced but after a moment’s discussion Tanya was hauled to her feet and tossed over the shoulder of one of them. A few moments later and she was being lowered by rope into a large speedboat, one of three that were tied alongside the enormous container ship like limpets on a whale.

  The speedboats remained alongside the container ship for a while longer and from where Tanya had been bundled she watched the little boats being loaded with items prised from some of the crates that had been broken open. Maybe half an hour later the pirates all piled aboard their speedboats and made off at high speed. What was in the crates that the pirates had wanted to steal Tanya had no idea. She did however recognise one item that was stolen and deposited into the speedboat where she was held: the stomach-churning machine that she had been about to be subjected to in the ship’s games room. As the little boats speed away into the night, Tanya guessed that having seen her strapped down and about to fucked by the machine, the pirates had been unable to resist the urge to add to their booty. Before long the twinkling lights of the container ship were far behind them and Tanya knew that she was now embarked on an adventure far more scary than that which she’d started a few weeks ago.

  When dawn came Tanya woke, surprised that despite being forced to lie naked on the deck of the boat, she had actually fallen asleep. The first thing she took in was that her wrists were bound together in front of her with rope, a length of which had been wrapped four times around each wrist in turn in a figure of eight and the ends then knotted repeatedly. As best she could she lifted her arms and dragged her fingers through her tousled hair, clearing her face of her blonde hair so she could better look around.

  They were no longer at sea, to either side of them rose a wall of trees, they were travelling up a river, perhaps fifty yards broad. The trees were enormous and came right down to the riverbank and occasionally Tanya would catch a glimpse of a parrot taking flight as the boats approached and its bright red and yellow plumage would be visible for a few seconds before it disappeared into the canopy of green. Sitting upright so she could better look around, a rough woollen blanket of bright colours in an abstract design fell from covering her body exposing her bare skin to the air. Her captives had at least been considerate enough to cover her whilst she’d slept and this small token of thoughtfulness made her hopeful that she might not be too harshly treated.

  The air was stultifyingly hot and the men on the boat showed shirts that clung drenched with perspiration to their backs. There was a heavy smell too like a compost heap and gazing at the land on either side Tanya could see clouds of tiny insects. Occasionally she could see where one of the enormous trees had tumbled into the river and its trunk could be seen half exposed, half submerged, the bark covered with moss and trailing green fronds and between the branches there stretched colossal spider’s webs that glistened with dew and looked big enough to ensnare birds never mind insects. The only insects that came out over the river though and close to the speedboats were giant dragonflies, emerald and blue that skimmed the above the water. As Tanya watched one a fish leaped from the murky water and its vicious looking jaws snapped shut around the dragonfly and both promptly vanished again below the surface.

  There were four men on the boat on which Tanya was held hostage. She guessed the speedboat must have been about thirty feet long and now, heavily laden with booty it sat low in the water as they cruised upriver at no more than a fast walking pace. The crew talked cheerfully amongst themselves and when they saw Tanya was awake she was given a tin mug of strong black coffee, which she managed to gratefully hold between her bound hands. The youngest of the crew who alone spoke some fractured English tore in half a sugary bun of heavy pastry that he was eating and gave half to Tanya who eagerly washed it down with the last of the coffee that had revived her stiff and aching body. After the last session in the games room her arms and legs ached dully from being bound repeatedly into achingly submissive positions. Having finished her coffee she handed back the young lad the tin mug, smiled appreciatively and stumbled to her feet. She was long past feeling at all embarrassed at standing naked before strangers and allowed the men to feast their eyes on her body. In truth she felt proud of how she looked and she knew that she was just what any red blooded male would want to get his hands on given half a chance. The sun was pleasantly hot on her bare skin and she stretched indulgently, grateful to have the freedom to move her limbs. In the last couple of weeks she’d spent hours and hours with her arms and legs tightly bound, her muscles throbbing whilst the crew had taken it in turns to enjoy her defenceless body. At least now she was free to stretch her long legs and slender arms, even if her wrists were bound together. She glanced again at the rope. Whoever had tied her hands certainly knew what he was doing, she mused.

  The speedboats travelled upriver for what seemed like hours and during this time they turned first from the main channel and headed up a tributary that was only half as wide and then after what must have been several miles they turned again from this course and navigated a still smaller tributary where the riverbanks were no more than five or ten yards apart and the canopy of trees all but closed over the water and there was so little light it felt as if it were dusk. Now Tanya could hear the noise of the forest all around them, the loudest noise was the screeching of monkeys high above them but nearly as loud was the incessant insect noise. The river twisted and turned repeatedly and narrowed even further until the overhanging undergrowth was brushing at the sides of the speedboats and the crews frequently had to duck against branches overhead, from which Tanya glimpsed on several occasions long snakes that wrapped themselves repeatedly around the branches and seemed to be gazing down at the passing boats.

  Just as Tanya was wondering whether there would ever be an end to the river there appeared a wooden jetty and a small clearing in the forest and two thatched huts Mooring the boats here the crews set to work to unload their stolen cargo. Tanya was left on board and her young guard’s parting warning was more than enough to convince her to stay where she was.

  ‘No swim: many puraque; no walk many snake; stay here is safe; try escape and you die, understand?’

  ‘I won’t move, I promise,’ Tanya nodded and for the next half an hour she was all but ignored as the men emptied the three boats of their cargo. When the young man returned to check on her, Tanya was peering down into the murky water that lapped at the side of the boat.

  ‘What are puraque?’ she asked.

  The youth wiggled his bare arm to simulate what Tanya thought was a fish swimming.

  ‘Fish?’ she asked.

  ‘No, they very long, thin, no matter. They kill, you mustn’t go in river.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll take you advice,’ Tanya answered.

  After an hour the group of men had cooked themselves a meal and had prepared their booty for transport. From the boat Tanya had watched them. The crates were broken open and emptied. Smaller wooden boxes were removed and these were bound with rough ropes which where then tied to long poles. Whilst the men worked half a dozen more men emerged from the jungle and joined in helping to lash the smaller boxes with ropes. One of the men stood out from the others: he wore khaki trousers tucked into high leather boots and a kaki safari jacket and slung around his chest was a bandolier of bullets and he had a rifle slung over one shoulder and a pistol in a holster strapped to his waist. Tanya guessed that he must be the leader of the men and she was not surprised when he left the others to do the physical work and he came to the
boat to inspect his unexpected acquisition.

  ‘What were you doing on the container ship?’ he asked, regarding her from the jetty where he stood.

  ‘You speak English?’ Tanya said, forcing a smile and now for the first time feeling conscious of her nakedness.

  ‘Answer my question.’

  ‘I was kidnapped.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ the man spat a cheroot he was toying with aside and removed his sunglasses.

  ‘No, really, I was abducted when I was on holiday and...’

  ‘Your name is Tanya Hutchinson; you were on Sturmberger’s payroll.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Tanya blurted.

  ‘My men questioned the ship’s Captain; he told them; you were pay-rolled as “crew entertainment”. My men brought some interesting items from the room where you worked. Very interesting...’

  ‘Please... I didn’t know what was expected of me... I thought I was only...’

  ‘Be quiet, I’ve listened to enough of your lies. We’re ready to move out. Since you haven’t any footwear or clothes you can’t walk so I’ve arranged for my men to transport you. Stay there until they come for you, don’t even try to climb out of the boat without their help; if you fall in the water you’re dead meat,’ the man warned then turned and strode away.

  ‘What are puraque?’ Tanya called after him, glancing down at the murky water.

  ‘Electric eels; their shock is enough kill if you’re lucky; if you’re unlucky you’ll just be stunned and then you simply drown. That’s if the piranhas don’t get to you first.’

  ‘Thanks for the information,’ said Tanya, backing away from the edge of the boat.

  Tanya was transported in identical fashion to the wooden crates; that is to say; her ankles were roped together and then a long wooden pole was drawn between the ropes that bound her ankles and wrists. With the pole lifted onto the shoulders of two men, one at each end, Tanya was left dangling upside, suspended by her ankles and wrists, her bare rump swinging just a few feet clear of the ground. The party made off up a narrow track marked by machete-hacked undergrowth which climbed steeply uphill. The heat and humidity were intolerable and Tanya, having drunk only a mug of coffee since her abduction, felt weak with dehydration. After an hour or so despite the discomfort of being carried like some slain big cat trophy, Tanya drifted asleep, all but overcome by the unbearable heat.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘I think she’s had enough, perhaps we should call it a day?’ Miles suggested.

  ‘Quite so,’ agreed Sturmberger.

  ‘Shall we untie her?’ Miles suggested.

  The Australian girl looked hopefully at the two men regarding her. Her slender but well toned arms and legs were all immobilised by belted canvas straps that secured her to a gynaecologist’s chair that Sturmberger had installed in a basement room he had converted for his own amusement and the suffering of any girl unlucky enough to be lured into his pay. After subjecting Becky to a merciless shafting and then softening up her thighs with ten minutes on the receiving end of a horsewhip, the men had dragged the girl from the gym and down to the basement.

  Now Becky was strapped into the large black leather chair, canvas straps tight about her thighs and arms as well as two that held her immobile, one snug across her stomach and fastened at the back of the chair and the other tight across her chest just above her breasts but under her arms. As well as the straps, she wore wrist and ankle cuffs of black PVC that were fastened by clips to hooks on the chair, added for the purpose. The hood had been removed from her head, as had the ball-gag from her mouth. The basement had been deliberately and comprehensively soundproofed by Sturmberger and for the last hour or so the Becky’s screams and cries had added to the men’s amusement.

  ‘Shall we untie her then?’ Miles repeated.

  The girl looked quite exhausted and he felt a pang of sympathy for her. Strapped into the chair Becky had endured enough to satisfy Miles and having enjoyed her deliciously tight young pussy and then enjoyed watching her lithe young body writhing feverishly as she was tormented, Miles was ready to leave his business associate’s house and to go home.

  ‘I’ll give her ten minutes to calm down,’ said Sturmberger, gesturing to the basement exit.

  Leaving Becky bound to the chair the men left the room. A few moments later and Miles was walking home through an early evening mist and drizzle and Sturmberger had returned to the basement.

  ‘Are you going to untie me then?’ Becky demanded impatiently as soon as she saw him enter the room.

  ‘Not just yet,’ Sturmberger answered.

  Becky looked apprehensively at the man as he stood at the end of the chair and effortlessly pushed the two legs of the chair wide apart. With her feet trapped in the stirrup cups by the ankle cuffs that were clipped to the frame and her thighs strapped down, Becky could do nothing but sigh despairingly as Sturmberger effortlessly spread wide her legs.

  ‘Haven’t you done with torturing me for today?’ Becky complained as she was forced to watch helplessly as Sturmberger calmly stroked her exposed sex.

  ‘No please, too tender...no...uhh...’ she bit down on her lip as the man fingered her achingly tender pussy.

  The men had earlier fastened chains hung with weights to her labia and had watched her writhing against the straps as her sex lips had been distended. The whole situation of being on the other side of the globe to her home and familiar surroundings, held prisoner in a soundproofed basement whilst two men she didn’t know calmly and systematically tortured her was, she had to admit, exquisitely exciting and deliciously arousing. As much as she may have struggled, the sensation of having her labia weighted had served to bring her to orgasm and this had convinced Sturmberger, quite rightly, that she was game for more suffering.

  ‘Calm down my dear, I am not going to do anything to you that doesn’t give you pleasure.’

  Becky knew that the German had judiciously subjected her to harsher and more demanding sessions as his submissive each day she’d been in his employment but as yet, though she had been given the chance each day, she had never walked out.

  ‘Uhhh... please...so sensitive...stop it...’

  She tossed her head from side her, sighing plaintively as Sturmberger fingered her labia, teasing the swollen lips of delicate flesh. She was very wet and hot to his touch and with her legs widely spread by the chair, he was afforded a pleasing view of her young sex.

  ‘Now I have a nice treat for you, so you can just lie back and enjoy my new toy.’

  ‘You bastard! Let me out of here, damn you!’ she swore, knowing that what he wanted to hear was her complaining and struggling to resist what he was subjecting her to. It wasn’t hard to struggle, the pain had been real enough but then it had been deeply satisfying for her as well as for the men and she was grateful to have found such a mercilessly hard and imaginative master.

  Ignoring her demands Sturmberger drew the little portable trolley closer to where he was standing. Having seen what was on it, Becky was now having quite a temper tantrum and he was given the satisfaction of watching her strain against the straps that held her down whilst he calmly took a peg from the tray and fastened it to one of her outer labia. He then cut a small length of sticky tape and stuck it across one shaft of the peg and then holding the peg against her thigh he smoothed the tape across her skin.

  ‘Not fair...please, I want to stop!’

  ‘Dear girl, stop whining or I’ll gag you.’

  Sturmberger fastened a second peg to her labium and then another two pegs to her other sex lip, leaving Becky to gaze down in growing despair as she saw that her labia had now been pegged widely open to fully reveal the delicate pinkness of her sex. She watched the man pick up the electric wand, she’d seen one once before and had heard from another girl that judiciously used the device would make a girl orgasm
repeatedly and intensely as the wand delivered an electric shock that was not quite enough to be harmful but more than enough to be as painful as it might be stimulating.

  To test the effectiveness of the wand Sturmberger first applied it to one of Becky’s tits and her anguished cry and subsequent swearing and cursing was vociferous enough to convince him that the device was as good as its reputation suggested. Becky was trembling with apprehension as he placed the slender tip of the wand against her exposed sex and flicked the switch.

  ‘Uhhh!’

  Her cry was so intense that he instinctively withdrew the device from contact with her and the girl was left trembling and sobbing, her arms and legs twisting under the straps. Her gaze was abruptly no longer one of defiant anger. She was panting hard, her eyes wide with fear and wet with tears and her lips trembled, she shook her head urgently as she begged him to not repeat what he’d just subjected her to.

  ‘Please don’t do it again, it’s too much, please...’

  Sturmberger smiled an insincere apology and touched her exposed sex once more with the tip of the wand then he flicked it on. Becky’s body convulsed against the straps, she bit down hard on her lip then her mouth was torn open as she cried out. Her thighs strained against the straps, her arms dragged ineffectually to free themselves. Her cry turned to a fevered whimper, her head tossing from side to side, her breathing increased then became ragged as she climaxed. Sturmberger switched off the wand, slid the tip a little way into her sex then flicked it back on again and even before her climax had subsided she was forced to orgasm again as the electric shock stimulated her sex more than she imagined possible and more than she was certain she could bear for much longer.