The Adventures of Whirlwind

Warfare in the Thirtieth Century

Episode 2

The Mercenary

Chapter 10 Torment

Riona’s head throbbed. Inside her skull a dozen drummers were pounding away. She moaned and tried to move, but her arms and legs weren’t working. With an effort she forced her eyes open. It took her a few seconds to realize where she was, and then they went wide with fear.

“It’s about time you came back to life,” said the pirate captain. He was standing only a few feet away. “I didn’t hit you that hard. That’s what comes of giving a woman a man’s job.”

Riona hardly heard the insult. She was too overcome with the horror of her situation. She was stretched out of a metal rack and was completely nude. While she had been unconscious her clothes had been removed. She could only imagine what pleasure that must have given her captors. But that was not the source of her fear. The metal rack she was strapped to was part of a much larger apparatus, one that she had studied at Starfleet. The thought of what it could do filled her with a terror so profound that she was close to fainting.

The pirate captain leaned over her. He had seen the panic stricken look that had crossed her face. He was a powerfully built man and his swarthy complexion. The abstract tattoo on his cheek, and the multiple rings piercing his right ear, marked him as clearly as if he had worn a sign around his neck.

“A Moraxion corsair,” she thought. She had never seen one before, but their reputation as predators made them the most feared of pirates. The Moraxions created nothing. They destroyed. And they took what they wanted, whether it was ships, loot or women. Her gut twisted. The Moraxions’ hatred for women who overstepped what they considered their proper place was notorious. The least such a woman could expect at their hands was a life of subjugation and servitude. But there was more than that. She recognized this particular corsair. He was Sardar Drhan, a man whose reputation for vicious brutality made him stand out even amongst the Moraxions.

But it was not just the corsair that had filled her with fear. It was the machine that surrounded her. She was strapped to an X-shaped metal frame, her arms and legs spread wide. The frame was shaped to follow the curves of her body, so that it was not uncomfortable, but it left her exposed to whatever the pirates might want to so to her. Even more, however, was the fear of the machine itself. She had studied such a monstrosity at Starfleet. It was part of the course on interrogation techniques and even in the quiet of the classroom, she had not been able to suppress a shudder. It was a Nalax Inquisitor, a mechanism designed solely for the purpose of inflicting pain. It was said that victims of the device had been know to die even though not a mark had been made on their bodies.

The pirate captain grinned like a shark. “I see you recognize my little toy, you Starfleet bitch. You are right to fear it, as soon you will find out what it can do.” His smile faded, to be replaced by a look of intense hatred. Do you know what you did? Half my crew is gone thanks to you, and three months’ loot was blown out into space. My ship is an inoperable piece of floating junk. Only this room and a few others are still intact. No one does that to me and gets away with it.”

The pirate captain started to undo his belt. “You are going to wish you had never been born. But before I turn you over to the Inquisitor I am going to take some personal satisfaction in punishing you.”

Riona arched her back and pulled desperately at the straps holding her to the machine. The captain let her struggle, his eyes drinking in the stimulating sight of her writhing body.

He hadn’t hurt her much. Bruises on her face and ribcage showed the affects of the short beating her had given her. Other than that her exquisite body was unmarked. And she was absolutely gorgeous. And a virgin. He had been able to find that out while she slept. He licked his lips as he drank in her beauty.

Hair the colour of fire framed a sweet oval face, with full pouting lips, a pert nose, and emerald eyes that glowed like gems. Her breasts were firm, rounded globes, each the size of a grapefruit, topped by soft pink nipples that begged to be sucked. Her waist seemed impossibly narrow, and her legs impossibly long. As she struggled her muscles flowed beneath her smooth slightly freckled skin. Under different circumstances he would have honoured her by making her his mistress, but she had dishonoured him in front of his crew, ripping apart his ship and making him look amateurish and incompetent. For that she would have to be punished. And he knew the best way to punish a virgin. He dropped his pants and moved between her thighs.

“No,” Riona protested. “You can’t do this. It is a violation of the interstellar convention on the treatment of prisoners.” It was a stupid thing to say to a pirate, but her virginity was on the line. She would be disgraced before her clan and Starfleet.

A sneer curled the captain’s upper lip. “I can’t? I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk. Then I’m going to give you so much pain you’ll beg me to do it again.” He inserted two fingers into her tight fissure, watching her reaction as he probed her. The slight arching of her back brought a smile to his face. “Fucking whore,” he swore. “Pretending you don’t like this. I barely touch you are you’re shoving your cunt toward me.”

Riona stared wide-eyed at the captain’s engorged phallus. The monstrous organ filled her with indescribable fear and loathing. How could she submit to something so disgusting being shoved into her? In her most terrible nightmares she had not imagined that this was what her first time would be like. Her breathing quickened in fear, and she began to tremble uncontrollably. She tugged frantically at the straps on her wrists and ankles.

With a laugh the captain moved closer, touching the tip of his manhood to the lips of her vagina. A small drop of seminal fluid dripped from the rigid wand. “You better be protected, bitch. I’ll knock you up faster than a boar screwing a brood sow.”

Riona blanched. It was not part of her culture for women to take measures to prevent pregnancy. They were supposed to wait for marriage before engaging in sexual activity. Starfleet offered such drugs, but like a good Irish girl she had spurned them. She now realized how stupid she had been. Better to have violated the restrictions of her society than to find herself with child by this monster.

“No, please,” she tried again. “Don’t do this. Please show mercy.” Her eyes were clouded with tears as she dishonored herself.

“Begging me now are you, bitch? What happened to the high and mighty Starfleet code of honour? Forgotten already? Frightened by a little bit of cock? You’re a goddamned disgrace. Crying like a little girl. Well, maybe you are a little girl now, but I’m going to make a woman out of you.” He leaned forward, pressing into her, and cupped each of her breasts, while allowing his weight to settle on her loins.

“Please no,” Riona whimpered again as her assailant began to massage her breasts. His hands were large and powerful, and he forced the firm flesh of her breasts through his fingers. She panted in fear as his body pressed against hers. The smell of his sweat filled her nostrils, mixed with the stronger scent of his semen. A sobbing cry escaped her lips as he pinched both her nipples, squeezing them harshly between thumb and forefinger.

Ignoring her distress, he took her left nipple in his mouth and massaged the tender teat with his tongue. Then, as it became erect he took it between his teeth and bit down sending pain lancing through her. She screamed, more from the fear that the pirate captain might bite off her nipple than from the pain. “Nooo!” she protested. “Nooo!” The tears flowed fast now, and her body shook with sobs.

The captain ignored her cries. “Gutless bitch,” the captain taunted. “No courage without your ship. Too bad the other boy scouts at Starfleet can’t see you now.”

The pirate captain’s jibe mortified her. Frightened as she was, a deep sense of shame swept over her. She was behaving like a frightened child instead of a Starfleet veteran. She took a deep calming breath, calling on her training and every bit of self control she could muster. Her breathing was still labored, but she no longer wept. If she was to be raped then she would bear the dishonor with dignity if it was possible to attach such a term to so degrading a violation of her person.

The pirate captain felt the change in her body. She was no longer desperately trying to escape him. For a second he pulled back. A hint of surprise showed in his dark eyes. “So you do have some guts after all,” he jeered. “We’ll see haw long that lasts.” Readying himself, he thrust powerfully forward, driving deep within her and ripping through the thin shield of Riona’s hymen in a single motion.

It took all of Riona’s self control to stop herself from shrieking in pain as her virginity was stolen from her, but somehow, she was able to deny her violator the added pleasure of her screams. “Tough bitch are you?” the captain responded. “We’ll see how tough.” Gripping her waist he began to rape her methodically, pounding into her again and again as he sought to break down her resistance.

Riona closed her eyes. The brutal loss of her maidenhood had completely demoralized her. She tried to hide within herself. Utterly degraded she could not believe her virginity had been taken from her. Up until the pirate captain’s phallus tore it away her hymen she had kept up a vain hope that her maidenhood would somehow be preserved. She had been ruthlessly violated and there was nothing she could do to stop the continued violation of her body. “It’s just my body,” she thought to herself. “He’s only taken my body.” She repeated the thought over and over again as the pirate continued to ravage her. But she knew that she was only fooling herself. In the conservative culture of her home world women who were unmarried were expected to be virgins. Those who were not were not considered fit for marriage.

“Ahhh!” A particularly painful twist on her nipples brought a surprise gasp from her. “You fucking bitch,” the pirate swore, “I told you I’d leave you bowlegged. He squeezed her breasts with a grip of iron, and grinned at the agonized expression on her face. He twisted her nipples again. The rewarding cry of pain spurred him on. He had the redheaded bitch now. He’s make her wish she never dared to put on the Starfleet uniform. With a powerful thrust of his hips her drove the full length of his weapon into her, penetrating to her womb, and then hammering in and out rapidly, brought himself to orgasm, burying his seed deep within her. Panting he fell back from the plundered female. He’d fucked her good. Now it was time to really teach her a lesson.

Riona fought back tears. The humiliation and brutality of the rape was over, or so she hoped. Her breasts ached from the mauling they had received, and her nether region felt like it was on fire. Her body dripped sweat and her muscles ached from her futile attempts to break loose from her restraints. But she knew that much worse was to come. As the corsair pulled up his pants he nodded to one of his crew. “Turn on the machine,” he ordered.

Riona’s could barely stop herself from shrieking in terror. As part of her training she had once been strapped into a Nalax Inquisitor. The pain had been so blinding that she had no recollection of what had happened to her until she awoke a few minutes later. Incredibly, her instructor had told her she had done well. She had actually resisted the machine for a few seconds, before revealing the codeword she had been told to keep secret. It was longer than any of the other recruits had lasted. But the Inquisitor had never been used on her to its full capacity. “Control,” she thought. “Maintain control. Don’t show fear. It will only make the pain worse.” Slowly she brought her hurried breathing under control.

Sardar Drhan slowly buckled his belt. A grim smile of satisfaction played about his lips. He knew that bursting the Irish bitch’s cherry was about the worst thing he could do to her. He came from a similar culture, only one even more restrictive. A dishonored woman among the Moraxions was worth less than a dog. When he was finished with her he would take her back to his world and sell her to the flesh merchants. They would have some sordid use for her. First though, he wanted some information. He turned to the crewman operating the Inquisitor. “Grill the bitch!”

The machine hummed. Several dozen padded straps folded themselves around Riona’s body, securing her arms legs, waist and head so tightly that she could not move a muscle. Her mouth was forced open and held in place by mechanical restraints. She could barely breathe, but Riona knew that the mouthpiece and the straps were intended to prevent her from hurting herself while the machine went to work on her. Victims of the hideous torture machine who were not properly restrained tore themselves apart, breaking their limbs and ripping their muscles from the bone as their bodies contracted and spasmed in uncontrollable agony.

The machine closed around her, cocooning her entire body in a network of needles and probes that entered every part of her body. She hardly felt the thousands of tiny almost microscopic pinpricks that invaded her. Only the larger probes that entered her ears, nose, eyes, anus, and vagina caused her any discomfort, but she was aware that her body was now connected to an electronic nightmare that had completely wired her body for pain. And then the torture began.

It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was pain so intense and all encompassing that it paralyzed her ability to scream. A white light seemed to flash before her eyes and every muscle of her body contracted and twisted with an aguish that went beyond description. This time she did not black out. But she understood why. The pirate captain had placed the setting of the machine at a low enough level to keep her from fainting. The pain surged through her in wave after wave of pulsating agony. It was like being immersed in a giant vat of boiling acid.

Riona was sure she would die, but horribly she did not. Instead the pain went on and on. An endless cycle of torment left her eyes bulging from her head, and the parts of her body that could move twitching like parts of a dismembered insect. And then suddenly, incredibly, the pain was gone.

“You enjoy that, bitch?” asked the pirate captain. “That was ten seconds. And it was on the lowest setting. A one on a scale of one to ten.”

Unable to turn her head, and surrounded by the machine, Riona could not see the captain, but she could hear him well enough. She was amazed that her body no longer hurt. Except where she had been raped and molested she could feel nothing. Surely her body must be torn to shreds, but it was as if the machine had never been turned on.

“Now,” continued the captain. “I you want to save yourself some pain I suggest you tell me the security codes for Starfleet, otherwise I turn the machine back on. And this time at a higher setting.”

Riona knew she couldn’t do what he asked. Giving the pirate the security codes would enable him to send out false signals to every ship that he encountered, making it possible for him to easily get within their range and capture them. It would also open all orbiting battle stations and ground defences on planets within the Illurian Confederacy, allowing him to prey upon planets that usually required a full scale assault to invade. She couldn’t shake her head, but her silence was answer enough.

“Stupid cunt,” the captain swore. “Grill her again.”

The second time she almost fainted. How long the inquisitor was turned on she had no idea, but it seemed like hours. The machine had that quality. An ability to distort time for the victim unlucky enough to be the centre of its attention. Whatever the interval, Riona could not believe she was still alive at the end of it.

Sardar Drhan cursed the redheaded bitch. He had never seen anyone resist the machine at this level before. What kind of woman was she? By now she should be spilling her guts about everything she knew, yet she hadn’t so much as told him her name. “Turn it up,” he ordered. “And target her sex organs. I want her to feel like a pylon is being driven into her. But keep her awake; we’ll see just how tough she is.”

Riona screamed. Or at least she tried to, but nothing came out of her mouth. She was being raped again, but this time by an organ so immense that it permanently dislocated her hips. Logic told her that what she was feeling could not be happening. She was strapped into the Inquisitor; no one could be raping her. And then the pain shifted to her anus. The leg of a table was being rammed into it, tearing her open and rupturing her internal organs. She knew that it was merely the machine, but it was hard to separate reality form the pain that shifted from one part of her body to another. Now a fire burned in her vagina as if red hot coals were being shoveled into it. And she could not scream. The Inquisitor would not let her. Only her harsh breathing and the twitching of every muscle in her body showed the horror of the torture she was forced to endure. One after the other her sex organs were attacked. The pain in her breasts hurt so much she was positive that they had been crushed in a giant vise and then the pain switched back to her vaginal region again.

Again and again the brutal pain tore through her, reducing her to a state of drooling delirium. There could be only one end to her ordeal. Riona had known how it would end before it began. The machine was untiring and relentless. She was just a helpless woman. It was only a matter of time. She told all she knew, not even realizing what she was saying.

She had lasted six sessions, the level of pain being turned up each time. When she had finally told Drhan what he wanted to know he thanked her sarcastically and then had the machine turned on again until the unbelievable pain forced her into unconsciousness.

When Riona awoke the next time, she shivered in cold. She was lying on a cold metal floor. She tried to raise her head, but the searing pain that swept through her forced her to hold herself still. There seemed to be no part of her body that did not hurt. It was an effect of the Inquisitor that had not been explained to her, but it was one she should have expected. While in the machine every muscle in her body had been subjected to the most severe pain. There would have been an involuntary response of each muscle as it was brutally stimulated and this had happened over and over again, sometimes hundreds of times a second. Small wonder that she felt as if she had just been tumbled in an ore crusher. Even if there was no actual damage, the acid build up in her muscles would leave her sore for days.

She moved her head again, but more cautiously this time. She was confined in a small room. From the items on the shelves around her, she determined that it was a storage room of some sort. It was barely large enough to lie down in, and was completely devoid of anything that might make her stay comfortable. In addition, she was completely naked. Slowly she tested her body. She wasn’t badly hurt. Only her vaginal region and her breasts showed any real damage. The latter were badly bruised where Drhan had mauled them during the rape, and her vagina was incredibly sore. Her inner thighs were stained with blood where she had bled after the rape.

She tried the door. As she expected it was locked. Why had she been placed in this tiny room? It didn’t even have a lavatory. Did her captors expect her to foul herself? A sound outside caused her to step back from the door. A second later it opened. She found herself looking into the faces of several grinning crewmen. “Well, it’s about time,” said one of them. “This fucking bitch has kept us waiting long enough.”

Riona almost wet herself. Now she knew why she had been dumped in the storage room. The rest of the crew was waiting until she regained consciousness so that they could take their turn with her. Drhan had promised her that he would treat he like a whore and that was exactly what he was doing.

Several hands reached for her at once. There were too many to fight in her weakened condition. “Please,” she said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

She was dragged into the room. Everywhere she looked there were men around her. She realized from the row of bunks that she was in the crew quarters. Drhan no doubt intended that every man on the ship have a turn with her.

The man who had spoken grabbed her and started hauling her toward one of the bunks, but another stopped him. “Didn’t you hear what she said, Bourne? You want her to piss all over your bunk. Let her take a leak and then screw her.”

Bourne shrugged. “Alright, he said, “but I’m going with her. Ain’t no way she’s getting out of my sight.”

Bourne held Riona’s arm as he escorted her to the crew washroom. He was a heavyset man with dirty blonde hair and a scruffy beard. Two more crew members trailed behind them determined that Bourne not run off with her before they had taken their turn.

Riona pretended weakness. She didn’t have to pretend very hard. She was weak. With her training she might have been able to handle the three men in an open fight, but after her ordeal of the last few hours she would have to resort to deception. She stumbled repeatedly as Bourne pulled her along forcing him to hold her erect. When they finally reached the washroom he pushed her into a cubicle and slammed the door. “You got five minutes, bitch,” he warned, “and then I’m coming in after you.”

It didn’t take Riona five minutes, but she used every second of it. The longer she stayed away from her captors the more she could recover. She also looked for a weapon. She found one, sort of. Removing the toilet paper from the spool she hefted the plastic rod in her hand. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was something that her captors would not expect. She clenched it in her fist and waited.

“Time’s up, bitch,” said Bourne, jerking open the door of the cubicle. As it swung open, Riona swung her arm, using the plastic rod the way she would a knife. She struck him right between the eyes. A blow there with her fist would have been quite damaging. The hardness of the plastic added power to the blow. Bourne went down as if he had been pole-axed and then Riona charged into the remaining two men.

The suddenness of the attack helped her to succeed. A weak and helpless woman had gone into the cubicle. A raging tigress had come out. Before the man she encountered first could move Riona drove her foot into his groin and then followed up by smashing her knee into his face as he doubled over.

The final man stepped back before the attack, allowing her to finish off her second opponent before dealing with him. Riona stepped quickly past the second man and laid into the third with a flurry of blows, dropping him to the deck. She finished him off with a kick to the head and then staggered against the wall for support. The fight had used up her last reserves of strength, leaving her almost too exhausted to stand.

She was free but what to do now? First she needed some clothes. She would have to take them from the men she had just defeated and she would have to move fast. The rest of the men in the crew quarters would come looking for her in a few minutes wondering where she and her three escorts had gotten to. Still breathing heavily, she stooped to unzip the jacket of the last man she had attacked. It was at that moment that a heavy body piled into her.

She knew at once it was Bourne. She had misjudged the effect of the blow that had knocked him down. He had been only stunned, not unconscious. He gave a hoarse cry of rage as he wrapped his arms around her and drove her to the floor. The impact dazed her, but Bourne made sure. He smashed his fist between her eyes, snapping her head back and driving her senses from her.

She came to only a minute or so later, but it was too late. Her hands wee bound tightly behind her back and she was being dragged toward the crew quarters by the men she had attacked. Bourne had hold of her right arm and the man she had kicked in the groin had her left. Behind them came the third member of the party.

“God damned, fucking whore,” swore Bourne. “We were only going to fuck you, but you wanted to play rough. Well, rough it’s going to be, and then we’ll still fuck you.” He and the other man dragged her into the crew quarters.

It took them only a couple of minutes to prepare her for her punishment. They untied her wrists, but kept hold of her arms. Dragging her over to one of the metal bunks they tied her arms to the rail of the top bunk. Then they tied her ankles to the legs of the bunk, spreading her into the shape of the letter “X.”

“Redheaded bitch,” said Bourne, “I’m going to strip off your skin. I’m going to beat you black and blue.” He snapped the leather belt he held into his hand, demonstrating its effect, and then swung it back.

Riona didn’t scream until the fifth blow of the belt. Bourne at first targeted her backside, whipping it until it was bruised and bleeding. Then, tiring he handed the whip to another man who proceeded to flog Riona’s exquisitely arched back. Riona writhed in pain under the brutal lash. Her silken skin was soon laced with welts and bruises from the continued blows and her cries of agony filled the room.

As she sobbed and begged for mercy, Riona felt a deep sense of shame. Only a short time ago she had stood up to the Nalax Inquisitor. Now she was screaming for mercy as she was beaten with a belt. But her bout with the machine and her attempted escape had taken everything out of her. She no longer had the strength of body or character to stand up to what was now being done to her.

“Why don’t we just fuck her? Beating her with a belt might satisfy you, but it don’t satisfy me.” The man who spoke was a short dark-haired man with a wiry build.

Several of the other men in the room grunted their agreement. “Come on,” Smith,” yelled one of them. “Cut her down. Let’s screw the cunt.”

The man with the strap nodded in agreement. He tossed the strap aside, but Bourne picked it up. “I said she was going to be beaten until I removed her skin,” he said.

“How about if we remove your skin instead, asshole?” said the man who had first objected to the beating.

Bourne rounded on him menacingly. He was by far the biggest man in the room. “You going to do it, runt?” he demanded.

“Damn rights,” the smaller man answered. He produced a laser pistol from inside his shirt.

Bourne stepped back. “What the hell you doing? You know the captain don’t let us settle differences with weapons.”

“This ain’t a difference,” said the smaller man. “This is about rights. I want a piece of that beautiful ass and you’re beating it up. You want to beat her, do it when we’ve all had our piece of her.”

The rest of the men in the room chorused their agreement. “Albright,” said Bourne, “but I get to go first.” He strode over to Riona’s now limp form and untied the rope.

“Great job,” said the small man. “Screwing her will be like fucking a dead woman.”

Bourne turned Riona over. Grabbing her breasts he squeezed them like sponges. A low moan escaped her lips. “See,” Bourne said. “She’s awake. Just give her a few minutes.” He slapped Riona’s already bruised face. She moaned again.

“Get some water,” ordered Bourne. “I’ll wake her up.”

There was a shuffling and a few seconds later one of the men returned carrying a bucket of water. Bourne soaked a cloth in the water and wiped Riona’s sweat and tear stained face. Then he squeezed a few drops into her mouth. Riona coughed, and then licked the drops of moisture from her lips. Soaking the cloth again, Bourne squeezed a cupful into her mouth. Riona’s eyes slowly fluttered open. “Looks like she’s awake to me,” said Bourne, upending the remainder of the bucket over her.

Riona gasped and spluttered as the water engulfed her mouth and nose. She was fully awake now and surrounded by a dozen or more men. Weakly, she tried to get to her feet, but Bourne pushed her down onto one of the bunks. She gasped in anguish as her bruised backside made contact with the mattress. Borne climbed on top of her, unzipping his pants as he did so. With a moan Riona tried to roll over, but he had already spread her legs. Using his weight he forced her to lie flat on the bunk. “Alright bitch,” he said, “now we’re gonna have fun.”

Riona struck at Bourne’s face, but he easily caught her wrist. She was too beaten up to properly defend herself. Grabbing her other wrist he pinned her to the bunk, and then he raped her. The pain was no worse than what had been done to her before, but it was still a shameful and degrading experience. About her the watching crew members urged Bourne on, shouting encouragement and making assorted vulgar comments as he pistoned in and out of her. He climaxed eventually. Riona wasn’t sure how long he took, but it probably wasn’t long. As soon as he was finished, another man took his place.

This time she was dragged off the bunk and plunked down on a table in the middle of the room. Several men participated in the second rape. One, she thought it was Smith, but wasn’t sure, raped her vaginally. Another bent her head over the far side of the table and shoved his phallus into her mouth. The others gathered round and groped and pinched whatever part of her body they could reach.

It was a horrendous experience, and it seemed to last forever. No sooner had one group finished with her than another started. Eventually her assailants figured out a way for three men to take her at once. She was rolled onto her side on one of the bunks. Next to the wall, behind her one man thrust into her anus. In front of her another raped her vaginally, and at the head of the bunk a man stood and forced his penis into her mouth.

Too weak to fight back and heavily outnumbered in any case, Riona was forced to submit to whatever her captors chose to do with her. She wasn’t sure how many times each man took her. Their faces merged into a blur as her exhausted body sought the welcome relief of oblivion. The world darkened around her as her awareness faded. Dimly she was conscious of an increase in the noise around her. Somewhere men were shouting and then everything went dark.

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