Cry Havoc Chapter 8 - Reeducation

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As the door to the interrogation cell opened, the smell of the room hit me like a physical force: fear, sweat, and cum. Wraith and Shieldmaiden were exactly where I'd been told they'd be - strapped to metal chairs in the center of the room, naked as the day they were born. Their bodies glistened with various bodily fluids under the harsh fluorescent lights. Both women had their heads tilted down, but they looked up at the door when I entered, and I watched their eyes widen as they registered me… surprise? Fear? Probably a mix of both. Both women were gagged with wads of torn fabric from their uniform bodysuits, their jaws forced wide around the cloth and then tied off to seal them. Thick leather straps bound their ankles to the chair legs and their wrists to the armrests, leaving them completely exposed and vulnerable.

Their bodies told the story of what they'd already endured—but what glorious bodies they were. Shieldmaiden's golden-brown skin glistened with sweat, her muscular thighs marked with violent purple fingerprints that only accentuated their powerful curves. Her breasts were full and heavy, trembling slightly with each ragged breath and swollen and raw from repeated biting and slapping. The contrast between her warrior's physique and current vulnerability made my cunt throb with twisted appreciation. Those abs—still defined even in defeat—rippled beneath her skin as she shuddered, cum dripping from her thoroughly used pussy onto the metal chair with an obscene patter.

Wraith’s body was leaner but no less enticing. Her pale skin flushed pink where she'd been manhandled, her smaller tits sporting perfect, bite-ravaged nipples that pointed straight out like they were begging for more abuse. Her ass, visible from the side of the chair, was a tight, athletic masterpiece, the two perfect globes marred by handprints and streaked with dried jizz. The white fluid leaking from her stretched asshole formed a filthy puddle beneath her, mixing with what dripped from her reddened cunt.

Two famous rebel pilots, reduced to trembling pieces of fuckmeat for Ka Corporation's pleasure. And now, for my pleasure too. I smiled behind my featureless hood, knowing they would barely be able to see it but they would know it just the same. It sent a flash of satisfaction through me to see them having suffered as I did. These women had been elite pilots, symbols of resistance against Ka Corporation. Now they were just another pair of holes for the corporation to use however it wished. I wondered briefly if Cernunnos had personally participated in their violation. I hoped so... It meant he was more likely to leave me alone.

"Well, well," I said, looking at the two women. "How the mighty have fallen."

I began to circle them slowly, taking in every detail of their exposed bodies. Wraith—Sarah Rathe—caught most of my attention. She had long dark blonde hair, which had been smooth and rich but was now matted with sweat and cum, and bright green eyes. Those eyes followed me now, wide with terror. Unfortunately for her, my interest in her wasn’t for anything she was. Wraith was an excellent pilot and had nearly taken me down with that ambush, sure, but I barely cared about her. Her sister and mother, on the other hand, were the important ones. Her mother was the leader of the whole rebellion, and her sister was the infamous Ashley Rathe… the best pilot that the rebels had. Ashley was the one I wanted to test myself against… to prove that I was the best. Besides, if I captured Ashley or Dr. Victoria, there was no chance Cernunnos wouldn’t take possession of a prize or two like that. That could be weeks, months, or even years of him barely paying me any interest. Maybe he’d even let me just function as a pilot if I proved myself that useful.

Compared to Wraith, Shieldmaiden—Maya Chen—wasn’t quite as interesting. She also had a sister, though… one that I already had a history with. Dove—Marina—was the first pilot I had defeated during this campaign, and I’d personally broken her on the battlefield weeks ago. Her body was more athletic than her sister's had been, but it had been satisfying to take my anger out on. I suspected that the red-haired Maya’s would be just as fun. If nothing else, I loved the way her hair framed her face… It was quite pretty.

Their eyes followed me. To them, I must have seemed like some kind of demon with my skintight suit covering every inch of me, the permanent hood with only the glow of my digital interface goggles visible. There was no face to appeal to, no humanity to recognize, nothing to negotiate with. Just a faceless instrument of their suffering, a monster out of their imagination that was responsible for their fate.

"I hope you've been enjoying Ka Corporation's hospitality so far," I said, completing my first circle around them. "The accommodations aren't highly rated, but the staff is very... hands-on."

Their muffled whimpers behind their gags were fucking delicious. I stopped behind Wraith and leaned down, my mouth near to her ear. "I can see you in particular have been quite popular with the guards," I whispered. "How many of them do you think are imagining it’s your sister they’re fucking instead?” I laughed quietly as I turned my attention to Shieldmaiden. "And you... how does it feel knowing your little sister is servicing an entire barracks of soldiers as we speak? She cries for you to rescue her, you know… When she's coherent enough to remember who you are."

Shieldmaiden tried to lunge at me despite her restraints, earning nothing but the painful bite of leather against her wrists and ankles. I chuckled at the pathetic display. "That's the spirit," I taunted. "And here I was worried you wouldn’t have any fight left in you. That would have been disappointing." I continued my predatory circuit around them, noting how they tensed as I passed behind them, relaxing only slightly when I came back into view. It was a primal fear, the terror of not being able to see the predator at your back. I exploited it deliberately, moving silently, touching them unexpectedly - a finger trailed along a shoulder here, a sudden grip of their hair there.

"You know why I'm here, don't you?" I asked, stopping in front of them both. "I’m going to hurt you. Then you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

Their eyes darted to each other, a silent communication passing between them. Solidarity. Resistance. How cute. "You're thinking you can hold out," I continued, crouching down to their eye level… my inhuman visor meeting their defiant gaze. "You're thinking about all those stories of brave heroes who never broke under torture." I tilted my head, the gesture deliberately robotic and inhuman. "Most of those stories end with the hero dying. Never having said a word. If you want to die, I can arrange that for you… eventually. I promise you, though… it won’t be before you experience pain beyond anything you've imagined."

I stood and walked slowly behind them again. "I don't have to worry about killing you accidentally. You two are heavily augmented… just like me. You’re durable." I placed my hands on both their shoulders, squeezing hard enough to bruise. "We can play for days. Weeks, even." Another circuit brought me face to face with them again. I leaned in close to Wraith's face. "No one is going to come to rescue you. The legendary Archangel doesn’t even know where you are, or that you’re even alive. No one is coming for either of you.”

I straightened up and made my way toward the wall where various implements of torture had been arranged neatly on a metal table. Electrical devices, nerve stimulators, whips, clamps, and more exotic tools designed specifically for causing as much pain as possible. My fingers hovered over the selection, feeling a rush of anticipation as my HUD in my visor identified each of them… There were things here I hadn’t even imagined, but would do a fantastic job.

My fingers danced over the various implements on the wall before settling on exactly what I wanted - a set of long, thin metal skewers with electrical cables attached to one end. Perfect for what I had in mind. I plucked four of them from their hooks, feeling their comfortable weight in my hand before setting them down front and center on the tray. "Let's get started, shall we?" I said, not looking back at them. "We have a few days, and I've been looking forward to this." Only then did I turn back toward my captives. The fear in their eyes intensified as they saw what I'd selected, their bodies instinctively straining against their restraints. There was something beautiful about that moment when victims first realize exactly how they're about to suffer… the helpless anticipation. I felt that myself every time Cernunnos ordered me to spread my legs, and I couldn’t resist.

I approached Wraith first, the metal table’s legs scraping across the concrete floor with a grating shriek that made her flinch. The sound hung in the air, amplified by the sterile walls as I positioned it directly in front of her. Each deliberate movement I made was reflected in her wide green eyes, those defiant pools tracking my every gesture. I’d have to see how long it took to reduce them to wide and terrified gazes that tracked me like prey watching a predator. The cold metal of the stool kissed the backs of my thighs through the suit as I settled myself before her, close enough that my knees brushed against hers. Her skin twitched at the contact. The fluorescent lights overhead cast harsh shadows across her exposed flesh, highlighting every goosebump, every tremor that ran through her restrained body.

"Let's have a proper look at you," I said. My gloved hands reached out, fingertips hovering just centimeters from her right breast for a moment—letting her anticipate my touch, letting her fear build in that suspended second before contact. When my fingers finally made contact with her flesh, I felt her whole body tense. Her breast was warm even through the glove, the skin soft, taut, and firm. I cupped the weight of it, feeling its natural buoyancy before my fingers dug in. My thumb and forefinger squeezed inward from opposite sides, feeling the dense flesh of her tits yield reluctantly under the pressure. I kneaded her flesh like dough, testing its elasticity, watching how it dimpled and blanched white under my grip before flushing pink when I momentarily released the pressure. Her nipple, already hard from fear and the cold, hardened further the more I manipulated it.

"Nice tits," I commented, my casual tone a stark contrast to the intimate violation of my touch. My fingers continued their unwelcome exploration, pinching the underside of her breast hard enough to leave angry red marks. Wraith's breathing quickened, her chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow movements that only emphasized the vulnerability of her exposed breasts. Behind her gag, muffled whimpers escaped—desperate, animal sounds that echoed off the concrete walls and seemed to hang in the air around us. A thin sheen of sweat had broken out across her collarbone, catching the harsh light as it trickled down between her breasts. "It’s a shame, really. But we do what we have to do."

I reached back to the tray, my fingers wrapping around the first skewer and brought it up before her eyes. I held it there, letting her see what was coming. Then, with deliberate slowness, I positioned the tip of the skewer against the outer curve of her breast. I pressed just hard enough to create a small depression in her flesh without breaking the skin. The metal dimpled her pale skin, creating a tiny white circle where the blood was pushed away from the pressure point. Her entire body had gone rigid, muscles straining against the leather restraints that bit into her wrists and ankles. "This is going to hurt," I said unnecessarily, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. I leaned in closer, my featureless visor just inches from her tear-streaked face. "A lot."

She might not be able to see my eyes, but I watched hers without blinking as I adjusted my grip on the skewer, ensuring the perfect angle. Then I shoved and drove every inch of the metal rod through her flesh in one smooth, continuous motion. Wraith's reaction was instantaneous and primal. Her body convulsed violently against her restraints, the chair legs scraping against the floor as she bucked and thrashed. The scream that tore from her throat, muffled by the soaked fabric gag, filled the room with its raw anguish. It was a sound beyond language, beyond conscious thought—pure animal suffering given voice. Tears burst from her eyes, cutting clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks before dripping off her jawline. A moment later the tip of the skewer emerged from the other side of her breast, the metal tip appearing as if by magic. It pushed the skin outward before puncturing through in a small eruption of blood.

The entire process took perhaps two seconds, but in the suspended reality of the interrogation room, it seemed to unfold in slow motion. Blood welled up at both the entry and exit wounds. It gathered in perfect spheres before gravity pulled them downward in thin crimson rivulets, tracing the natural curve of her breast and dripping down the ridges of her abdominal muscles. The contrast between her pale skin and the vivid red trails was aesthetically striking, almost beautiful in its stark simplicity.

"One down," I muttered, my eyes lingering on the obscene sight of the metal rod impaling her flesh. The skewer rose and fell slightly with each of her ragged breaths. One drop reached her nipple, hung suspended for a moment, then fell to her thigh with a tiny, almost inaudible pat. I reached for the second skewer, letting my fingers roll it back and forth, the metal clicking softly against my gloves. "Three to go."

I positioned the second skewer perpendicular to the first, starting at the upper curve of her breast. Her chest heaved with her panicked breathing that caused the first skewer to wobble obscenely. The chair creaked as she strained against her bonds, the leather cutting deeper into her wrists, raising angry welts that would soon become bruises. None of it mattered. I pushed the second skewer into her flesh like the first, but this time I didn't make it quick. Instead I applied pressure gradually, watching as her skin dimpled, stretched, and finally surrendered to the intrusion. The metal disappeared millimeter by millimeter into her breast, the entry wound puckering around it as if her body was trying to reject the foreign object.

Wraith's eyes rolled back momentarily as the skewer penetrated deeper, crossing paths with the first one somewhere in the dense tissue of her breast. Her screams, muffled as they were, were beautiful and desperate. Her body convulsed in rhythmic spasms, muscles contracting involuntarily as shock began to set in.

When the second skewer finally emerged from the other side of her tit, it completed the X pattern. The two metal rods, intersecting through her flesh, rose and fell with each labored breath she took. The movement caused fresh pain with every inhalation, forcing her to take shallow, rapid breaths that only intensified her panic. Tears streamed continuously down her face now, mixing with saliva that had soaked through her gag and dripped from her chin. I sat back slightly on my stool, admiring my handiwork. The X pattern was perfectly centered on her breast, the four ends of the skewers pointing outward like a compass rose. The skewers blocked most of the blood but some continued to seep from the four puncture wounds, running in rivulets that mostly converged at the underside of her tit and pooled before running down.

"Perfect," I said, admiring my handiwork before standing. "Let's make sure your friend doesn't feel left out." I moved to Shieldmaiden, who was frantically shaking her head, her eyes wild with panic. She knew what was coming. I sat down on her bound thighs, reaching out to grab her right breast roughly. "I’m glad you have bigger tits than your sister did," I told her conversationally. "Not as much for me to work with. I had to get awfully creative with her to make her useful."

Without further warning, I drove the third skewer through her right breast, angling it similarly to how I'd done Wraith's. Shieldmaiden's body bucked violently against the chair, hard enough she would have lifted both of us off the floor if the chair wasn’t bolted down. Her screams were higher-pitched than Wraith's had been, desperate even through the gag. The second skewer went through at a right angle to the first, completing the X pattern. Shieldmaiden bled more than Wraith did… I wonder if that meant that her augmentation was less extensive than Wraith’s were. Interesting that Doctor Rathe was favoring her children… It made me even more eager to see what Ashley would have to offer.

I patted Shieldmaiden on the cheek before I stood up and returned to Wraith. Her breathing had become a little calmer after giving her a minute to recover, but that was a good thing… It meant I could work her back up. Her eyes tracked me with terror as I selected two more skewers from the table. "Let's keep things symmetrical, shall we?" I said, cupping her left breast. I repeated the process again, creating a matching X of metal through her left breast. By the time I was finished, Wraith was back to trembling uncontrollably, and her breathing had returned to being fast and hard.

I walked back to Shieldmaiden, who was sobbing openly now, her body shaking with each ragged breath. I grabbed her left breast, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch even before the penetration. "Almost done with this part," I assured her mockingly. "Then we get to the fun part." The final two skewers went through her left breast, creating a matching pattern to the right. All four women's breasts were now impaled, blood leaking steadily from the wounds.

I stepped back to admire my work, tilting my head slightly. That would do. The symmetry of the metal X's protruding from their breasts, the contrast of bright red blood against pale skin, the absolute terror and pain in their eyes… A woman could go so far as to consider it art. For a tool like me, it just looked efficient and well-done. Time for the next step.

Leaving them to squirm, I grabbed the loose ends of the electrical cables attached to each skewer and began connecting them methodically to the box that sat on the nearby table. "I’m not the first person to ask you questions… but I will be the last. You might think you can hold out, the way you have before. I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. You know what makes me different from other interrogators?" I asked, knowing I wouldn’t get a response. I attached another cable. "Those other soldiers, they work for the corporation. For them, it’s a paycheck… their job. For me?" I paused, looking directly at each of them. "Success is literally survival. If I fail to get what Cernunnos wants, then I suffer.”

Soon all of the cables, eight in total, were connected to the battery terminals. "That makes me very motivated. And very thorough. Because if my choice is you suffering, or me suffering…" With the final connection in place, I turned back to face them, one hand hovering over the activation switch. “That’s really not a choice at all.”

I flipped the switch, sending the first pulse of electricity through the skewers. Both women convulsed violently, their bodies arching as far as their restraints would allow. They didn’t scream… With their muscles so locked up, they probably literally couldn’t. They jerked over and over again and electricity coursed into them, pouring down the skewer and into their sensitive breasts, down, and out through the other breast and skewer. On a normal woman, I’d be worried about getting so close to the heart… but I knew how much one of the augmented humans could take from the files and specifications on me. They could take it.

The burst wasn’t long… After just three seconds the power cut off. Then the screaming started as both women collapsed in their restraints, gasping and sobbing through their gags.

"That right there was the floor," I informed them, adjusting a dial on the control panel. "We have as long as it takes to work our way up. Find the right level for you two."

I activated the current again, watching with clinical interest as their bodies jerked and spasmed uncontrollably, the metal skewers conducting electricity deep into their breast tissue. Their backs arched, tendons standing out in sharp relief as every muscle contracted simultaneously. Another three-second burst, then off. They sagged in their chairs, sweat already starting to coat their bodies. "The good news," I said, leaning in close to Wraith's tear-streaked face, "is that you’re going to survive this. The bad news is that you are going to wish you wouldn’t."

After turning the dial up, I set the shocks on a timer. Three seconds every 20-30 seconds. The shocks were enough to keep the two women thrashing against their restraints like fish on hooks. I let it randomize it a little bit, reducing or increasing the shock time a little, or speeding up and slowing down the tempo. That unpredictability was key: I didn’t want to let them prepare or brace themselves for the next wave of agony. I circled them slowly as they jerked and spasmed, their bodies dancing to the rhythm I controlled, their muffled screams and gasps and choked out sounds of agony when they were shocked providing a soundtrack to experience.

After a particularly vicious shock that left both women sagging and gasping for air, I stopped directly in front of Shieldmaiden. Her eyes were unfocused, glazed with pain, but they sharpened when I crouched down to her eye level. I stayed there until the next shock, watching her body jerk violently before continuing. "You know, I've been thinking about your sister," I said. "You’re probably wondering what happened to her, aren’t you?”

Shieldmaiden's eyes widened, a fresh wave of tears spilling down her cheeks. I smiled behind my mask, knowing I'd found the perfect pressure point.

"Pretty much the same thing that’s happening to you… at least until they realized she didn’t know anything worthwhile. Even before then she was having a rough time, though.” I stood and circled behind her, leaning down to speak directly into her ear. "When I dragged her out of that cockpit, she was so brave. Thought she could appeal to my humanity."

I waited for the next shock, watching the subtle tells in their bodies. Shieldmaiden's eyes darted to the control box, her chest rising in quick, shallow breaths. She was trying to time it, poor thing. Wraith was doing the same, her jaw clenched tight around her gag, muscles tensing in anticipation. They both thought if they could just prepare themselves, somehow brace for it, the pain would be more manageable.

It was fucking adorable.

The timer hit and current surged through the metal skewers. Their bodies snapped rigid, backs arching against the restraints as electricity tore through the sensitive tissue of their breasts. The skewers vibrated slightly with the current, their X-patterns rising and falling as both women convulsed. Shieldmaiden's eyes rolled back, showing whites as her head thrashed from side to side. Wraith's thighs strained against the chair, muscles cording as her body tried desperately to escape what couldn't be escaped.

I let out a low hum of appreciation. The way their tits bounced and jiggled with each violent spasm was mesmerizing… the impaled flesh wobbling obscenely around the rigid metal rods, blood trickling in fresh rivulets down to their stomachs. When the current cut off, they collapsed like puppets with cut strings, sweat-slick bodies heaving as they gasped for air.

Barely twenty seconds later, the next shock hit. It was earlier than they expected, too… I could tell by the way their eyes widened a split second before their bodies went rigid again. This time Wraith's chair actually rocked on its bolted legs, her hips bucking up with enough force that I heard metal groan. Shieldmaiden's scream through her gag was higher pitched this time, a desperate animal sound that leaked around her soaked gag. Her tits flopped wildly with each convulsion, the impaled flesh stretching grotesquely around the skewers as her torso jerked and twisted.

The muscles in their abdomens contracted visibly under their skin, creating a rippling effect that traveled down to their thighs. Wraith's cunt actually squirted a little with this shock—not uncommon with electrostimulation, her body betraying her in yet another way.

When the current died again, I leaned in close to Shieldmaiden's ear. Her breathing was ragged, tears and snot streaming down her face as her chest heaved. I could smell the sharp tang of her sweat mixed with the metallic scent of blood as I continued speaking as if I hadn’t paused.

"I showed her exactly how human I am by raping her right there on the battlefield, surrounded by the wreckage of her precious mech. You should have heard her screaming when I forced my fingers into her dry cunt. She kept babbling about how she was a person, how I was being controlled, how I should be 'one of you.'" I laughed bitterly. “As if that was possible. Anyway, by the time I was done with her, she wasn't saying much of anything anymore."

Shieldmaiden pulled against her restraints, trying futilely to attack me despite the hopelessness of the attempt. Another jolt of electricity through both women stopped that. When the power cut out, I continued as if there had been no interruption. "Marina serves a new purpose now. The soldiers call her a “moral aid.” She's kept naked in a cell not much bigger than a closet, and anyone who wants to can use her. I don’t think they even have to get approval or permission anymore.” I walked back into Shieldmaiden's view, watching the hatred and despair war in her eyes. "Last time I checked on her, she was lying in a puddle of cum, staring at nothing.” Another shock, another bit of silence, another chorus of screams. "Sometimes she bangs her head against the wall. Like she's trying to scramble what little is left of her brain, you know. The guards think it's funny. They've started a betting pool on how long before she’s braindead. Not that it will stop them… She doesn’t need to have a thought left in her skull to spread her legs."

I left Shieldmaiden sobbing and moved to stand in front of Wraith, who had been listening to every word, her own horror clear in her expression. I triggered a shock just for her, watching her body jerk before leaning in close. "And your sister…” I licked my lips. “The famous Archangel, the 'Guardian of Elysium.'" I tilted my head, studying her reaction. "I'm looking forward to meeting her. I’m sure she’ll be a real challenge for me, not like you two disappointments."

Another shock, another scream.

"They say she's the best pilot the rebellion has. That her neural link with her mech is so complete, they move like a single organism." I ran a finger along the side of Wraith's face, collecting tears. "But they’re wrong about her. She’s just a woman. I’m the machine.” I smiled at Wraith. "I want that fight more than anything. A true test, you know? To prove to everyone who the superior pilot really is." I walked behind her, letting my hands rest on her shoulders, digging my thumbs into the tense muscles there. "When I beat her—and I will beat her—they’ll stop treating me like meat. I’ll have proved I’m the greatest asset they have. Then I won’t have to suffer anymore… I’ll finally be as free as a weapon can be.”

I leaned down to whisper in her ear. "And the best part? After I've broken her, after I've made the mighty Guardian of Elysium beg me to kill her, I'm going to make sure she knows exactly what I did to her beloved sister in this room." Shock. Scream. Continue. "I'll describe every cut, every burn, every violation in perfect detail. I'll tell her how you broke, how you betrayed everything you believed in just to make the pain stop for a little while." I leaned in until my mask-covered lips brushed her ear. "And when I’m done, your rebellion will be over. Sister by sister, pilot by pilot, I’ll take you all down until there's nothing left of your pathetic uprising."

I stood back and watched the next pulses of electricity, watching with clinical interest as both women jerked and thrashed in their chairs, the metal skewers in their breasts gleaming wetly with fresh blood as the movement tore at the wounds. Their screams had become hoarse, their bodies slick with sweat and blood. After the fourth such burst left them slumped in exhaustion, I turned back to the table filled with implements. My fingers closed around a slender metallic rod about the length of my forearm, with a complex array of neural sensors at one end and a control interface at the other.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked, holding it up for them to see. Neither woman responded beyond blank gazes. "This is a nerve-activator. Doctors use them for therapy. This one has its limiters turned off though… and it’s been programmed with some useful presets. It won’t actually cause any physical damage, but it makes your brain think it does." I activated it briefly, causing the end to glow with a faint blue light. "Right now, it's set to simulate the sensation of being burned alive. Every nerve ending will tell your brain that your skin is blistering, your fat melting, your muscles cooking... but when I'm done, you'll be physically unmarked."

I approached them with the device, watching their eyes widen in renewed terror. "Let's see how much you can take before you break."

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Hours had passed.

I managed to lose track of just how many, which was impressive when I had a brain like a computer and a HUD filled with data. Time had just become meaningless when I was so immersed in my work, and my work was their suffering. The electrical pulses continued to jolt through the skewers in their breasts every few seconds, like a drum beat keeping rhythm for the orchestra of other suffering I’d put them through. My arm ached pleasantly from exertion. Neither of them was screaming anymore - they didn't have the strength. Their voices had been reduced to ragged whimpers, barely audible above the hum of the electrical equipment.

And I was making progress.

The nerve-activators had proved as effective as I’d been hoping they would be. I'd cycled through most of the settings, giving both of my captives a comprehensive tour of the worst sensations the human nervous system could experience. First, the burning; Their bodies convulsing as their brains registered phantom flames licking across their skin, cooking them alive from the outside in. Then drowning. It had been satisfying to watch them thrash while their lungs seized in panic, genuinely sure they were filling with water, choking and gasping around their gags as if they could somehow cough up the nonexistent fluid. The insect setting had been especially cruel, put together by some sadist on the Ka Corporations corporate espionage team… It made them feel like imaginary creatures were burrowing beneath their skin, crawling through their flesh, nesting in their orifices. Their eyes had rolled back, their bodies bucking against the restraints with strength I thought exhaustion had stolen from them hours ago, renewed by pure animal terror of being eaten. The device even had settings for internal organ pain. I simulated heart attacks, kidney stones, and a burst appendix.

I didn’t want to let them get used to consequence-free pain, however, so between sessions with the high-tech torture devices I'd returned to basics. There's something satisfyingly primal about a good old-fashioned whipping. I'd selected a thin leather signal whip from the table, and it made a distinctive and enjoyable crack when it broke the sound barrier. I’d used it to methodically work over every inch of their exposed flesh that wasn’t pressed against the chair. Their upper backs, thighs, asses, and breasts bore a latticework of welts and shallow cuts, some still weeping blood.

Through my neural terminal, I had access to a truly impressive amount of information on torture. All the knowledge I could need was available at a glance. Through it, I understood that humans could adapt to almost anything given enough time. The body can compartmentalize consistent pain and the mind can retreat into shock or disassociation. That's why I kept changing methods, why I varied the intensity and location, why the electrical pulses through their breasts continued at random intervals throughout everything else. I didn’t want to let them ever fall into a rhythm or establish any kind of baseline for their suffering they could somehow rise above.

Most importantly, throughout these hours of torture, I hadn't asked them a single question.

This was the key difference between my approach and that of less motivated interrogators. Most would have been constantly demanding information, giving the victims something concrete to resist. "Tell me the codes!" "Where is your base?" "Who are your leaders?" That could work with someone more fragile than these elite pilots, but they were augmented humans and well trained… It wouldn’t be that easy. If I asked, each question would have provided them with focus and purpose, and most important of all it would give them the satisfaction of a small victory every time they stayed silent. It would give them something to draw strength from. Worse, all torture generally did when applied that way was to get the fastest lie from their lips they could think of to make the pain stop.

Instead, I gave them nothing. No questions to refuse answering, no clear objective to the pain. Just endless, seemingly pointless suffering. Without a solid thing to stay strong against, their minds had to be spiraling deeper into confusion and despair. They didn’t even have the satisfaction of knowing there was a way to make the torture stop.

Finally, I observed the results of my work. Both women sat slumped in their chairs, held upright only by their restraints. Their bodies twitched involuntarily with each electrical pulse, but the reactions were weaker now. Wraith's blonde hair hung in matted strands around her face, plastered to her skin with sweat. Her green eyes, once defiant, now stared vacantly ahead, focused on nothing. Tears had left clean tracks through the grime on her cheeks. Shieldmaiden was in even worse shape. The whites of her eyes were visible through half-closed lids, and a constant tremor ran through her limbs even between electrical pulses. Blood from numerous small cuts had dried in flaking brown streaks across her skin, mixing with the sweat to create a grotesque painting. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid breaths, and each time her body jerked from an electrical shock some small, broken sounds escaped around her gag.

Both women were approaching their physical limits. Even with their enhanced physiology, there was only so much trauma the body could process before shutting down. It was good that they were that close because it meant I was getting to them, but I did need them at least a little coherent for the next phase of my plan.

I walked to a small sink in the corner of the cell and filled a plastic cup with water. I drank deeply, enjoying the cool liquid against my throat after hours of work. I filled another cup and returned to stand before my captives, watching them with clinical interest as they continued to twitch and whimper with each electrical pulse.

Their suffering was cathartic for me in a way. The two women were raw, primal, and stripped of all pretense and dignity. They were reduced to their most basic animal selves, creatures of pure pain and fear. All their training, all their courage, all their ideals about the righteous rebel cause, and none of it mattered anymore. There was only the next shock, the next breath, the desperate hope that somehow I might stop hurting them. I bet they didn’t have even a single thought about the pain stopping any other way than that—my mercy.

I reached over to the control panel and turned off the electrical current for the first time in hours. The sudden absence of the jolting pulses made both of them sag, momentarily limp as ragdolls.

I walked over to stand directly in front of them, clasping my hands behind my back in a posture of casual command. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked, my voice soft and almost gentle after so many hours of not speaking.

The question seemed to penetrate their pain-fogged consciousness. Both women's eyes slowly focused on me, confusion mixing with wary relief and surprise. Their eyes widened, darting between my faceless mask and each other, looking for the trap. But the hours of pain had eroded their capacity for complex thought. All that remained was the animal desire for the suffering to end.

Slowly, hesitantly at first, then with increasing desperation, both women began nodding, tears flowing freely down their faces once more. Their bodies shook with silent sobs as they frantically nodded, begging without words for mercy.

"Good," I said, standing before the broken, sobbing women with a smile. They wanted the pain to stop, had already decided to offer some form of cooperation for it. That was progress, a first crack in their resistance. Now it was time to exploit that crack, to drive a wedge into it until their resolve shattered completely. "Here's the deal," I said, my voice casual as though we were making small talk. Had I ever made small talk? I couldn’t remember having done so. "I need the security codes to Haven's Deep. That's why you're here. That's why all of this is happening."

They stared at me with red-rimmed eyes, their breathing ragged and uneven. I began pacing slowly in front of them, letting my words sink in. "But here's something interesting… It occurs to me that I only need the codes from one of you. Doesn't matter which one of you gives me what I want. So I’m making a game of it.”

Shieldmaiden's eyes darted to Wraith, then back to me. I could see the first stirrings of calculation behind her pain-glazed expression.

"The rules are simple," I continued. "One of you stays behind and keeps getting tortured. The other gets to end this little spa treatment and get some sleep. Whoever gives me the codes first gets the prize. The other one..." I shrugged. "Well, we continue where we left off."

The two women traded glances again. I smiled. If I just asked them, gave them an opportunity to lie, I bet they would take it. That’s why I wasn’t going to give them a chance. This time, by the time they had a chance to talk, one of them was going to be committed. I wonder how close the two little rebels were. “So, to determine who gets this golden opportunity, we're going to have a little contest." I moved to stand directly between them, close enough that they could see their own reflections in the polished metal of my visor. "You’re going to stuff your pretty little fists into one another. First one to make the other cum wins and gets the chance to give me the codes."

Their expressions shifted from pain to horror to outright disbelief. The next electrocution interrupted their shock, and I waited it out before I shrugged. "Of course, you could always refuse to play. I can go back to the nerve-activator. The setting that simulates you swallowing acid and being eaten alive from the inside looked like a lot of fun."

I watched their faces as they processed their options, as the desperate desire to escape pain warred with whatever principles they still clung to. Survival is a powerful instinct. It overcomes almost everything else given enough incentive.

Slowly, reluctantly, both women nodded their agreement.

"Excellent," I said. "But there's one more thing.” I moved to Wraith first, grabbing her right hand from where it was restrained to the chair's armrest. I held it palm up, fingers splayed. “I’d hate to think you didn’t hate every single moment of this. By the time we’re finished, I want you to be very, very sure you still want all of this to stop." Her hand trembled in my grip. "This might hurt a bit," I said with mock sympathy, then grabbed her index finger.

With a quick, violent motion, I bent it backward with all my strength.

Between my fingers, I felt the precise moment when resistance gave way to sickening pliability—the exact microsecond when solid bone surrendered to physics and trauma. The sound of her breaking fingerbone bounced off of the concrete walls like a gunshot, high-pitched and unmistakable. Beneath my grip, her finger went from rigid to grotesquely flexible, bending at an angle nature never intended.

Wraith's scream tore from her throat, howling against the gag. Her eyes bulged, whites visible all around the irises, pupils contracting to pinpoints despite the dim lighting. Her entire body convulsed against the restraints, the metal chair creaking beneath her as muscles contracted involuntarily. Before the echo of her scream had even faded, I shifted my grip to her middle finger. I could feel her trying to curl it away, the tendons in her hand straining against my hold, but while we were both strong I had the leverage. Her skin was slick with sweat now, making my fingers slide slightly as I positioned them precisely. The battery shocked her through her tits again and I held her gaze as the electricity coursed through her, waiting, watching the dread build in her eyes—that terrible moment of knowing exactly what was coming but being powerless to stop it.

Snap.

The break was as clean and sharp as a twig underfoot in a silent forest. Wraith's body arched upward, straining so hard against her restraints that the veins in her neck protruded like cables. I gripped her ring finger firmly, noting the slight tremble in her crippled hand. Blood had begun to pool beneath her nail bed from the capillary damage of the first two breaks, creating a purple-red crescent. I still stared into her eyes, looking at her pupils dilated with fear. I could see her trying to brace herself, attempting to prepare for what was coming, but preparation was impossible.

Snap.

Her pinky looked so small and delicate in her hand… almost an afterthought of a finger, but no less sensitive. I waited for the electricity to fade, and then…

Snap.

The sound was almost dainty compared to the others—a small, crisp crack like biting into a thin piece of ice. But Wraith's reaction was no less violent. Her scream had taken on a hoarse quality now, her vocal cords beginning to fray from overuse. Her eyes rolled back momentarily, consciousness threatening to flee before the pain dragged her back to the present moment. No escape, not even into unconsciousness. The electrical current pulsing through the skewers in her breasts chose that moment to fire again, adding a fresh wave of agony that made her body jerk and twitch like a marionette with tangled strings.

Her thumb was thicker. I grasped it firmly, feeling the stronger bones, the greater resistance. This would require more force. I positioned my grip to maximize leverage, pressing my thumb against the joint while my other hand secured her wrist. Her eyes found my visor, pleading silently for mercy that wouldn't come.

Snap.

One final, ragged scream tore from Wraith's throat—a sound barely recognizable as human, more like the death cry of a wounded animal. Her body convulsed again before she collapsed against the restraints, her chest heaving with rapid, shallow breaths. Her right hand was a ruined mess, fingers broken and already beginning to swell and discolor. The skin stretched tight over the broken bones, turning an angry red that would soon deepen to purple. I patted her mangled hand gently, feeling the unnatural give of bones shifting beneath the skin. The touch, though light, caused her to flinch violently and emit a broken sob that seemed to come from somewhere deep in her chest. Tears flowed freely down her face now, mixing with saliva that had soaked through her gag and dripped from her chin in glistening strands.

"There we go. Now you’re ready. Time to get your friend good-to-go." I said, my voice almost gentle despite my actions. I turned to Shieldmaiden, noting that she was staring at Wraith's broken hand with undisguised terror. I settled down right next to her, smiling at her. The pilot tried to make a fist, a futile instinctive gesture of self-protection. I watched the tendons in her wrist flex and strain as she attempted to pull away, but the restraints held her firmly in place. The metal cuffs bit into her skin as she struggled, leaving angry red marks that would soon turn to bruises. I grabbed her right hand and forced the fingers open, feeling the resistance in her tendons, the desperate strength of her attempt to deny me access.

Her fingers were longer than Wraith's, more elegant despite the calluses that spoke of years of physical training. I wondered if I had calluses like those beneath the gloves. I wondered if I’d ever know. Instead of concerning myself with it, I grabbed her fingers and spread them wide.

"You should be happy," I said, clicking my tongue against my teeth in mock sympathy. The sound was sharp in the concrete room, echoing slightly off the bare walls. "I didn't need to take your sister anywhere near this before she broke. You're made of tougher stuff than she was."

Then I snapped her index finger backward.

The sound of the bone breaking was a sharp, clean crack that seemed to hang in the air for a moment before being swallowed by her shriek of pain. Unlike Wraith, who had tried to maintain some dignity even through the agony, Shieldmaiden dissolved immediately into hysterical sobbing. Her entire body convulsed, shoulders heaving with each gasping breath. Through her gag, desperate pleas emerged—unintelligible but unmistakable in their meaning.

The middle finger gave away next, and tears were streaming down her face in continuous rivulets now, catching the harsh light and glistening on her cheeks before dripping onto her heaving chest. "Don’t be a crybaby. This is nothing compared to what I'm going to do to you if you lose the contest," I told her conversationally as I gripped her ring finger. I kept my voice steady, almost friendly. Then I broke that finger too. I waited for the next shock before snap went her picky with a crisp crack. Finally her thumb snapped, leaving her hand useless and the howls of my victim something inhuman. The restraints creaked under the strain as her body bucked and thrashed, straps cutting into her wrists and ankles as she fought against bonds that wouldn't yield. Blood flowed from beneath the cuffs where her skin had split from the force of her struggles. Her broken fingers twitched and jerked with each movement, sending fresh waves of agony through shattered bones and torn tissue.

I stepped back to admire my handiwork. Two women, elite pilots, reduced to sobbing, trembling wrecks. Both women had matching ruined hands - fingers bent at unnatural angles, swelling rapidly, already turning purple with pooling blood. The electrical pulses continued to jolt through their breast tissue every few seconds, making their bodies jerk involuntarily, jostling their freshly broken bones and sending new waves of agony through them.

"Perfect. Now you're ready for the contest."

I moved to release their restraints, one limb at a time. They didn't try to fight or escape - they were too broken for that now, and besides, where could they go? The door was locked, and they were naked, injured, and facing an opponent who had spent hours demonstrating exactly what would happen if they resisted. I didn't remove the metal skewers from their breasts: They would stay in place throughout the contest, the electrical pulses continuing to jolt them. It should be good motivation. "On your knees, facing each other," I ordered, kicking their legs into position when they moved too slowly. I secured their ankles with shorter restraints attached to metal rings embedded in the floor, and bound their left wrists behind their backs, leaving their mangled right hands hanging limply at their sides.

The two women faced each other close enough that their knees touched, their breasts nearly brushing against each other with each labored breath. Blood continued to seep from around the metal skewers, trailing down their torsos in thin rivulets. Their eyes met briefly before both looked away, unable to face what they were about to be forced to do to each other.

I knelt beside them, grabbing Wraith's right wrist. She whimpered as I pushed her onto her side and lifted her broken hand. "This is going to hurt," I said matter-of-factly. "But not as much as what will happen if you don't cooperate." Then I guided her hand between Shieldmaiden's thighs, watching the terror bloom in both their eyes. I think, even after everything I had done to them they still thought I was bluffing… that I couldn’t possibly make them really do this.

I could.

With a shove, started pushing Wraith's mangled fingers into the other pilot’s pussy. The scream that tore from Shieldmaiden's throat was raw and desperate as Wraith's hand started to penetrate her, but that was nothing at all compared to Wraith's howl of agony as the pressure against her broken fingers sent lightning bolts of pain up her arm. Their cries mingled in a perverse harmony of suffering.

I pushed Wraith’s shattered fingers into Shieldmaiden one by one, each knuckle catching on the slick folds and meeting resistance before yielding with a grotesque pop. They were both screaming and her feet scrabbled against the concrete, but neither woman could do a thing to stop me. The sight of my gloved hand firmly guiding Wraith’s limp, ruined digits into another woman’s cunt was hypnotic, an obscene parody of a handshake gone hellishly wrong. “Should thank the boys for the lube,” I muttered, forcing Wraith’s index finger deeper until the first knuckle disappeared, then the second, the rest of her hand following with wet, reluctant swallows. Shieldmaiden’s cries lost the higher registers and dropped into guttural, animal territory, a deep-throated wail that vibrated the metal chairs and echoed off the walls.

I leaned close and watched every micro-expression, every twitch of muscle in both their faces. Wraith was lost in her own world of pain, but her gaze never left the gory tableau of her own hand being devoured by another woman. “Make a fist,” I ordered her. She just whimpered weakly through her gag. I think I saw her fingers try to curl weakly, but I couldn’t be sure… It wasn’t good enough.

“Wake up, Wraith. Use what’s left of that head of yours, cum for brains.” I backhanded her across the cheek, then again from the other side. “Focus! You want it to stop hurting? Make a fist. Unless you want me to break the other hand too, just for fun.”

She hesitated, so I slapped her again, faster this time, a staccato rhythm that made her hair whip across the dirty floor. “Come on, princess of the rebellion. It’ll hurt less once your fingers stop moving.” I couldn’t see Wraith’s battered fingers inside of Shieldmaiden, but I watched the bulge move. Shieldmaiden’s scream shot back up to a pitch that sounded like glass splintering. Her knees jackknifed and she tried to throw herself backward, but with that fist up her cunt she couldn’t move more than an inch or so. I grabbed the back of her neck and forced her face down, mashing her nose into the concrete. Her tears and snot pooled in a muddy puddle.

With Shieldmaiden sufficiently subdued, I clamped a hand around Wraith’s wrist to hold it in place. The tendons spasmed under the skin, her arm shaking with the pain of the other woman’s pussy squeezing her broken fingers. I kept it there, grinding her mangled paw in tiny, tight circles inside Shieldmaiden’s cunt. The metal skewers sparked again, sending fresh bolts through both women. Shieldmaiden’s convulsions made her pelvic muscles clamp down even harder on Wraith’s hand, squeezing cum out around the other woman’s wrist and making Wraith scream as her broken fingers were further squeezed.

“Good,” I said, satisfied. “That’s a start. But it’s not much of a contest unless both sides get a turn.” I released Wraith’s wrist and let her hand hang limply from Shieldmaiden’s cunt, then pivoted around to face the other woman. Shieldmaiden was gasping for air, streaks of snot crossing her face, pupils blown wide. She barely even noticed as I grabbed her ruined right hand, but when I flexed the broken fingers the shock brought her back from the edge. She shrieked and tried to twist away, but the restraints bit deeper into her flesh, the cuffs already stained with her blood.

“You know the drill, rebel whore,” I cooed, turning her hand palm up. “It’s only fair.” I forced her to look at Wraith… The dark-haired woman’s eyes were glassy but still tracking my every move. “You want to win, don’t you? You don’t want to be the one left screaming while your friend gets a break?”

Shieldmaiden shook her head, tears spraying from the motion, but I ignored her protest and guided her hand towards Wraith’s crotch. Wraith’s legs clamped shut instinctively, but I gave her a quick punch to her stomach, and then I started pushing Shieldmaiden’s hand inside her one finger at a time. There was some resistance at first, but with the electric shocks still pulsing through both of them, their muscles were so shot that it didn’t take too much effort to force entry. I pushed two fingers in, then three, then all four, the bones scraping against each other as they invaded her.

Wraith’s reaction was less dramatic than I’d hoped—she just went very, very still, the only movement a trembling of her lips as she howled behind the gag. Even when I forced Shieldmaiden to make her fist the other woman just whimpered and squirmed. It didn’t matter: I could see the terror in her eyes, the humiliation, the absolute hatred for me… and I think for Shieldmaiden and for herself, all stewing together in the storm of agony.

“Look at that,” I said, “you two are natural little whores. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you try again on someone who isn’t already half-dead.” Then I smiled. "Now start fucking each other. Make the other slut cum, and no more torture for you.”

They remained frozen, paralyzed by pain and horror at what was being demanded of them.

I sighed theatrically and reached for the control panel, turning up the electrical current to a higher setting. It immediately triggered and their bodies jerked violently, the sudden increase in voltage making them cry out in renewed agony. "I said, start moving," I repeated, my voice harder now. "Or were you under the delusion I’d already shown you how bad it can get?"

That did it. Desperate to avoid further torture, both women began to comply. Tears streaming down their faces, they awkwardly moved their broken hands, fists moving inside each other's bodies. Each movement was a fresh explosion of pain as their shattered bones ground together, but the alternative was worse.

"That's better," I said, moving to sit down on the chair. I expected this was going to take a while. "Put some effort into it, sluts.”

They sobbed as they obeyed, their bodies shuddering with each electrical pulse through their breasts. Wraith seemed to be trying to minimize the movement of her fingers, to cause less pain to Shieldmaiden, but that meant she was making little progress in stimulating her opponent. Shieldmaiden by contrast was moving more frantically, desperate to win and end her torture despite the agony it caused her. Their breathing came in ragged gasps, punctuated by whimpers and cries as the electrical current continued to jolt through their breasts at random intervals. The skewers shifted slightly with their movements, tearing at the wounds and causing fresh bleeding.

Despite the horror of the situation, their bodies began to respond to the stimulation. It was purely physiological - nerves firing, blood flow increasing, natural lubrication beginning to ease the painful friction of broken fingers inside sensitive tissue. It must have been hard for them to experience the pleasure being forced on them despite their pain, but nerves were nerves, and they stimulated just the same. "Look at that," I mocked. "You really are whores, aren’t you? I thought at least one of you would be able to resist. Instead, your cunts seem to be getting wetter. Is that making it easier to fist the other bitch?"

Wraith closed her eyes, turning her face away in shame, but couldn't stop the small gasps that escaped her lips as Shieldmaiden’s knuckles ground against the nerves in her clit from behind.

I sat there, watching as they continued their grotesque struggle. Each woman trying to bring the other to orgasm and fighting against their own body's responses, all while enduring the continuous pain of electrical shocks and broken bones. Their faces were masks of suffering, tears mixing with sweat as they worked.

"That's it," I encouraged mockingly. "You're getting the hang of it now. Put your back into it, Wraith. Your technique is sloppy. No wonder the rebellion's losing if this is the best you can do."

The cruel words seemed to spur Wraith to greater effort, perhaps out of spite or simply the desperate need to end this nightmare. Her face contorted with agony as she forced her broken hand to move harder and faster inside Shieldmaiden, searching for the spots that would bring her to climax fastest.

"Better," I approved. "Now it's a real competition."

It took about fifteen minutes for things to start changing. I watched with amused curiosity as the two women struggled against each other, their broken fingers forcing unwanted pleasure into unwilling bodies and pain into their own. The electrical pulses continued their random assault on their breasts, causing both women to jerk and spasm at unpredictable intervals, but between those moments of pure agony, something else was happening. Shieldmaiden's breathing had become increasingly erratic. Her chest heaved in an uneven rhythm that wasn't entirely about pain anymore. Despite the skewers impaling her breasts and the electricity jolting through them, despite her mangled hand being forced to violate her friend, her body was responding to Wraith's broken fingers inside her.

"Look at that," I said, leaning forward on my stool. "I think Shieldmaiden's starting to enjoy herself."

She shook her head frantically, tears streaming down her face, but her body betrayed her. Her thighs had begun to tremble, muscles tensing and relaxing in waves that had nothing to do with the electrical pulses. The flush that had spread across her chest and neck wasn't just from exertion or pain anymore.

"Don't lie to me," I mocked, reaching out to flick one of the skewers protruding from her breast. She screamed behind her gag as the metal rod shifted in her flesh. "Your cunt is practically dripping. You like having a woman’s fingers inside you, don’t you? What a fucking dyke slut you are…"

Wraith's eyes darted to her friend's face, confusion mixing with her own pain. She could feel what was happening—the increasing wetness, the involuntary clenching of inner muscles around her shattered hand. She wasn’t unaffected either, but I could see that the blonde pilot understood the game better than her friend did… She needed to focus on the pain, let it kill her arousal more. If she did that, she could pleasure the other woman more than she enjoyed it herself. Once she got there, the advantage would compound… Each squeeze of the other woman’s cunt as she grew more aroused would hurt Wraith more as Shieldmaiden's pussy contracted around her broken fingers, making Wraith less likely to cum even as her friend got closer.

"That's it," I encouraged, circling behind Shieldmaiden to get a better view of Wraith's mangled hand disappearing into her cunt. "Push deeper. Find that spot that makes her squeal."

She complied, forcing her broken fingers to curl upward inside Shieldmaiden, searching for her g-spot. The movement sent fresh waves of agony up her arm, but the alternative was worse. I could see the conflict in her eyes—the desperate need to end this nightmare warring with the horror of what she was being forced to do to her friend.

Shieldmaiden's body jerked suddenly, not from an electrical pulse but from Wraith hitting something sensitive inside her. A muffled moan escaped around her gag—a sound different from her screams of pain. Her eyes widened in shock and shame.

"There it is," I said with satisfaction. "She’s a little masochistic slut, isn’t she? She loves this. Do that again."

Wraith repeated the motion, twisting her fist to rub her hand against that sensitive spot and Shieldmaiden's back arched involuntarily. Her thighs began to shake more violently, muscles trembling with the effort of fighting against her body's responses. Sweat poured down her skin, mixing with the blood from her wounds and the fluids leaking from her pussy.

"You're disgusting," I whispered, leaning close to Shieldmaiden's ear. "Getting off on your friend's broken hand. I wonder what your sister would think if she could see you now? I’d show her… but she’s probably too busy servicing an entire barracks to care."

Shieldmaiden tried to turn her face away, but I grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at me. "Don't pretend you're not enjoying this," I said. "Your body doesn't lie. You're getting wetter by the second. Little… painloving…whore…"

It was true. Despite the horror of the situation, despite the pain of the skewers in her breasts and the electrical pulses jolting through her, her body was responding to the stimulation. The physiological reaction was inevitable—nerve endings firing, blood flow increasing, natural lubrication easing the painful friction of Wraith's hand inside her.

"Faster," I ordered Wraith. "Make her cum."

Wraith increased her pace, each movement sending fresh waves of agony up her arm as her broken bones ground together inside Shieldmaiden's cunt. Tears streamed down her face, but she didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The alternative was worse.

Shieldmaiden was fighting hard now, trying to focus on the pain of the skewers in her tits, the repeated shocks, electricity, the broken fingers of her own hand… anything to stave off the approaching orgasm. Biology was relentless, though. The pleasure built despite her best efforts to resist it, coiling tighter and tighter in her core. I watched the battle play out on her face as pain and unwanted pleasure warred for dominance. Her eyes kept rolling back, then snapping forward as she tried to maintain control. Her breathing came in short, sharp gasps punctuated by whimpers and moans that had nothing to do with pain.

"You're close," I observed. "I can tell. Your cunt is practically strangling her hand." I reached down and pinched one of Shieldmaiden's nipples right after a shock. The combination of pain and stimulation made her whole body jerk. "That's it. Let go. Show your friend what a whore you really are. She’ll remember this about you forever, you know."

Wraith looked horrified, but she didn't stop moving her hand. Couldn't stop. Each thrust of her broken fingers brought Shieldmaiden closer to the edge, and with it, her own potential reprieve from torture. Shieldmaiden's resistance was crumbling. Her hips had begun to move, almost imperceptibly at first, then with increasing urgency. She was riding Wraith's hand now, her body betraying her mind's desperate attempt to maintain control. Her eyes were wide with shame and horror, but her pupils were dilated with arousal.

"That's it," I encouraged. "Show us what you really are."

A second later, she was pushed over the edge. Shieldmaiden’s back suddenly arched as her body betrayed her, convulsing in an unwilling climax that shook her from head to toe. Her thighs clamped down around Wraith's wrist, her inner muscles spasming around the broken hand inside her. The orgasm seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pleasure mixed with pain as her body rode out the sensations.

When it finally subsided she collapsed forward, held upright only by the restraints and Wraith's hand still buried inside her. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes vacant with shock and shame.

"Well," I said, slow-clapping my hands in mocking applause. "Looks like we have a winner. Or should I say, a loser?" I chucked softly. "I’d say you were the bigger whore today, but it’s hard to tell which one is more pathetic… the slut who fucked someone to orgasm with a broken hand, or the one who came.”

Wraith collapsed forward, her forehead resting against Shieldmaiden's shoulder as the aftershocks of her unwanted orgasm rippled through her exhausted body. Tears of shame streamed down her face.

I crouched beside them, tilting my head to look directly into Wraith's downturned face. "I wonder if this runs in the family? Is your sister Ashley just as big a slut as you are? I hope I’ll get to find out when I get my hands on her." The mention of her sister caused Wraith to flinch, a fresh wave of shame washing over her features.

"Don't worry," I continued, patting her cheek with mock sympathy. "I'll be sure to tell her all about how beautifully you fist-fucked a captive whore while she was screaming in agony. I'm sure she'll be very proud."

I stood and moved to the battery and pulled out the wires leading to Wraith’s skewers. "As promised, a small reward for our loser." Then, with deliberate slowness, I approached Wraith and grasped the first skewer protruding from her right breast. I watched her face carefully as I began to pull, drawing the metal rod out of her flesh inch by agonizing inch. She bit her lip until it bled, trying not to scream, but a strangled cry escaped her anyway as the metal finally slid free, followed by a fresh trickle of blood from the wound.

"Three more to go," I said cheerfully, moving to the next skewer.

By the time I finished removing all four skewers from Wraith's breasts, she was slumped forward, barely conscious from the pain. But she had earned this small reprieve. Meanwhile, Shieldmaiden remained kneeling, the skewers still impaled through her breasts, the electrical current still pulsing through them at random intervals, causing her body to jerk involuntarily.

"Now," I said, "time to separate you two lovebirds."

I grabbed each woman's wrist, pulling their broken hands out of each other's bodies with a single rough movement. Twin screams echoed through the cell as the sudden extraction sent fresh waves of agony through their shattered fingers. Cum and vaginal fluids dripped from their mangled hands onto the concrete floor.

I reached down and removed the strap hanging around Shieldmaiden's neck, pulling the rag out of her mouth. Her jaw worked painfully, unused to being free after hours of forced extension. Immediately, she began to beg. "Please, I tried, I really tried. It's not fair, I was close to making her come too, just a little longer, please, I'll do anything, please don't hurt me anymore, I can't take it, please, please—"

Her desperate babbling annoyed me. I slapped her hard across the face, snapping her head to the side and cutting off her pleas mid-sentence. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth where my hand had split her lip. "Stop being such a sore loser," I said coldly. "The game was fair. You lost. If you wanted the pain to stop, you should have won instead." I grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked on it. "But since you're so eager to please me, I'll give you a chance to earn a little mercy."

Hope flashed briefly in her eyes, quickly replaced by wariness. Smart girl.

I dragged her by the hair, forcing her to crawl awkwardly on her knees until she was positioned directly in front of Wraith, who was still slumped forward, exhausted from her ordeal. I pushed Shieldmaiden's face between Wraith's thighs, shoving it roughly against her cum-filled cunt.

"You see all that mess?" I asked, grinding Shieldmaiden's face against the sticky mixture of semen and vaginal fluids coating Wraith's sex. "That's from all the men who've had their turn with her before you got here. Guards, interrogators, and the rest. Then you churned it up into a messy, sloppy froth that I want nothing to do with." Shieldmaiden tried to pull back, but my grip in her hair was unyielding. "I want you to lick the slut up," I said. "Every drop."

"Please," Shieldmaiden whispered, her voice breaking. “I… I need a minute. Just one minute.”

I sighed theatrically and reached for the control panel, turning up the voltage flowing through the skewers in her breasts. Her entire body convulsed, a scream tearing from her throat as the increased current sent agony radiating from her chest. "Were you under the impression this was a vacation? Allow me to set the record clear," I said. "You’ll get over there, now, and clean her with your tongue, or I'll push the skewers I just removed from her through your clit instead. Get me?"

That got her attention. She nodded frantically, tears streaming down her face.

"Good girl," I said. Then I shoved her face back between Wraith's thighs. After a moment's hesitation, Shieldmaiden extended her tongue and began to lick tentatively at Wraith's slit, her face contorted with revulsion. Each electrical pulse through her breasts made her jerk, interrupting her rhythm, but she quickly learned to work through the pain, desperate to avoid the threatened punishment. Wraith sat rigid, her eyes closed, tears seeping from beneath her lids as she endured this fresh humiliation. Her body, already sensitive from her near-orgasm, twitched at the contact of the other pilot’s tongue.

"That's it," I encouraged, watching closely. "Get in there deep. Don't miss a spot. I want her clean enough to eat off of."

Shieldmaiden's tongue worked more diligently, lapping at the mixture of fluids coating Wraith's inner thighs, delving deeper to clean inside her slit. Her humiliation was complete, and the tears dripping off her face could probably have washed her clear quickly enough. I watched with growing amusement as Shieldmaiden's desperate tongue work began to have an unexpected effect on Wraith. Despite her obvious shame and efforts to resist, Wraith's breathing quickened, her thighs trembling as Shieldmaiden's tongue found her still-sensitive clitoris. The previous fisting had left her nerves raw and responsive, and now that the worst of the pain was gone even the most reluctant stimulation was enough to push her body toward climax. I could see the horror in her eyes as she realized what was happening, as she felt the unwanted pleasure building despite the degradation and pain. Wraith tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. Her back pressed against the chair’s bolted legs as her body slowly betrayed her.

When her orgasm hit, it seemed to take her by surprise. A series of moans escaped her lips as her body convulsed, her hips bucking involuntarily against Shieldmaiden's face. Fresh tears of shame streamed down her cheeks as she came against her comrade's unwilling tongue. I laughed. "Would you look at that? You're absolutely insatiable, Wraith. Who would have thought an elite pilot would be such a depraved little slut?"

Wraith turned her face away, unable to meet my gaze, her body still twitching with the aftershocks of her unwanted pleasure. "Is this how you got your callsign?" I taunted. "Moaning like a ghost while you cum? Or maybe it's because you're so pale with shame right now."

I looked down at Shieldmaiden and spat on her face. Her chin glistened with a mixture of saliva and sexual fluids, her eyes dull with humiliation. "Don't stop now," I ordered. "You're obviously doing something right. More thorough, though. Get in there deep. Clean every fold, every crevice. Lick her like your life depends on it."

I shoved her face back between Wraith's thighs. Shieldmaiden resumed her task with renewed desperation, her tongue probing deeper, cleaning every trace of fluid she could find. The electrical pulses continued to jolt through the skewers in her breasts at random intervals, making her flinch and whimper against Wraith's flesh.

After several minutes of this, I decided I'd seen enough. Wraith was clean of men’s ejaculate so I wouldn’t have to taste any of it, and her flesh was pink and glistening with saliva. More importantly, both women were thoroughly broken by the experience—Wraith crushed by shame at her body's betrayal, Shieldmaiden demolished by the depths of degradation she'd been forced to.

"That'll do," I said finally, grabbing Shieldmaiden by her pretty crimson hair again. She slumped in relief, thinking perhaps that her ordeal was over, that she'd earned the mercy I'd hinted at. Poor, deluded bitch. She should have paid more attention to what I warned her about the game. One of them got a chance to give me what I wanted… The other got to suffer.

I yanked the broken pilot backward by her messy mane, dragging her across the concrete floor toward her chair once again. Her knees scraped painfully against the rough surface as she tried frantically to crawl with me, to reduce the pulling on her scalp. That only lasted until the next electrical pulse cost her control of her limbs, though… Then her tits were dragging across the ground while sparks flew. I hauled her up to her feet and forced her back down onto the metal seat. I quickly secured her again until she was completely immobilized once again and just jerking to the electrical pulses… but I wasn’t done.

Her face was a mask of terror as she watched me walk back to the wall of implements. I picked up the nerve-activator stick I had used earlier and turned around to look at Shieldmaiden, watching her eyes widen in renewed horror as she recognized the device.

"No," she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, I did what you asked!"

"You did," I agreed, approaching her with the device in hand. "And you did an adequate job. But this isn't about your performance." I bent down, whispering in her ear. “This is about making Wraith really, really, really want to not be you.”

Before she could respond, I forced her thighs apart and shoved the device deep into her swollen cunt with a single brutal thrust. Her back arched, a strangled gasp escaping her lips at the intrusion from the unyielding metal.

Then turned it on and walked away.

I didn’t look behind me to watch the catastrophic effect. I knew that Shieldmaiden's entire body went rigid, her back arching so severely I thought her spine might snap. For a moment, she didn't even scream… It hurt too much for that, and her mouth was simply stretched in a silent rictus of agony so profound that sound itself couldn't express it. Then the scream came, raw and primal, ripping from her throat like something alive trying to escape. Her body convulsed violently against the restraints, the chair legs scraping against the concrete floor with the force of her movements. The neural sensors at the end of the device were transmitting the sensation of intense, consuming fire directly to the nerve endings inside her most sensitive tissues. To her brain, it felt exactly as if her cunt, cervix, and womb were being incinerated by white-hot flames.

Shieldmaiden's screams echoed off the concrete walls, filling the cell with the sound of pure suffering. Each electrical pulse through her breasts added a spike of different pain to the unending torment of the nerve-activator, creating a symphony of agony that would have broken even the strongest will.

With Shieldmaiden's agonized screams providing a constant, harrowing soundtrack, I marched back to Wraith where she slumped against her metal chair, naked body covered in a sheen of sweat. She was frozen with horror as she watched her comrade's torture, and the color had drained completely from her face, her lips moving soundlessly. Maybe she was praying to one of Earth’s half-forgotten gods, or perhaps she was simply in disbelief at the level of suffering a human being could endure.

"Have you ever been fucked by Cernunnos?" I asked conversationally, as though inquiring about the weather. Wraith's eyes widened slightly, confused by the sudden shift in topic.

"He’s my handler," I clarified, tilting my head slightly. "The man who owns me. The man who sends me to break things like you. He likes to visit the prisoners. I wasn’t sure if he’d gotten to you, yet." I sat back on my heels, still watching her face. "He's big, you know. Thick. The first time he shoved himself into me, I thought he'd tear me in half. Not that he cared." I laughed, a hollow sound that reflected how I felt on the inside. "He doesn't prepare you, doesn't ease you into it. Just bends you over and takes what he wants. Now me… they made my body always wet. You’re a pretty big whore, so it might be the same for you, right?"

Shieldmaiden's screams had taken on a ragged quality now, her voice beginning to give out from the continuous strain. The perfect backdrop for this little chat.

Wraith still looked confused and horrified, so I continued. "Sometimes he makes me suck his cock while he gives me mission briefings," I continued, watching the horror grow in Wraith's eyes. "Says it's efficient—multitasking. I hate the taste of him, the feel of him forcing his way down my throat until I can't breathe." I leaned in closer. "I hate the way he holds my head in place while he fucks my face, and I hate it even more when he orders me to do it by myself. Then he cums without warning and makes me swallow every drop."

I stood up slowly, towering over her. "And after he's done, after he's pumped his load into whichever hole he decided to use that day, he makes me thank him. Makes me say 'Thank you, Sir' while his cum leaks out of me" I reached down and spread apart the slit in my jumpsuit at the crotch. Wraith's eyes tracked the movement, confusion and disgust in her green eyes.

"I hate it," I said, my voice hardening. "I hate every second of it. But I endure it because that's what I was made for. Does he sound familiar to you?” I paused, glaring down at her. “I suppose he wouldn’t have introduced himself to someone like you. It doesn’t really matter, I guess. I just want to make sure you don't miss out on the experience."

I pulled the fabric aside, exposing my sex. Even in the dim light of the interrogation cell, the glistening evidence of recent use was visible: Cernunnos’s cum still inside me. I reached down and removed Wraith's tied gag completely, tossing it aside. Before she could speak to try to object or beg or reason with me, I shoved her down and straddled her face. My knees pressed against the concrete on either side of her head, my hands braced against the wall behind her. In one smooth motion, I lowered myself onto her mouth, pressing my cum-soaked pussy directly against her lips.

"Have a taste," I ordered, grinding slightly against her face. "Every drop. Show me what a rebel tongue can do."

Wraith tried to turn her face away, her lips pressed tightly together in refusal. I grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted, yanking her head back into position.

"Listen to your friend," I hissed, nodding toward Shieldmaiden, whose screams had diminished to hoarse, broken sobs. "Her vocal cords are giving out. Soon she won't be able to make any sound at all. But the pain won't stop. The nerves don't get tired, Wraith. They'll keep sending those signals of agony to her brain until her heart gives out or I choose to stop. If you prefer, I can take it out of her and let the two of you swap places. Do you think she would hesitate?”

Wraith's eyes darted to Shieldmaiden, witnessing her friend's unimaginable suffering. I felt the fight go out of her, felt the moment of surrender as her lips parted and her tongue tentatively extended to touch my flesh.

"That's it," I encouraged, relaxing my grip on her hair slightly. "Clean me up."

Her tongue moved reluctantly at first, lapping at the mixture of Cernunnos's semen and my own fluids that coated my labia. I could see the disgust in her eyes as she tasted him on me - the salty, bitter flavor of male ejaculate mixed with the tangy taste of my arousal. But with Shieldmaiden's weakening cries echoing in the background, she had all the motivation she needed to comply.

"Deeper," I commanded, pressing myself more firmly against her mouth. "Get all of it."

Wraith closed her eyes, as if trying to distance herself from what she was doing, and pushed her tongue deeper into my folds. The warm, wet muscle probed reluctantly but thoroughly, cleaning away the evidence of Cernunnos's recent use of me.

I watched her face as she worked, enjoying the contrast between her obvious revulsion and her desperate need to please me enough to spare her friend further suffering. Each lick sent small waves of pleasure through me… not just from the physical stimulation but from the power of forcing this proud bitch who has resisted me for so long to service me in the most intimate way possible.

"That's good," I murmured, beginning to rock slightly against her face. "You're better at this than I expected. Maybe all those rumors about what you rebel pilots do to each other in the barracks are true after all." Her eyes flashed open at that, anger momentarily overpowering her shame. I laughed, grinding harder against her mouth in response. "There's that rebel spirit! I was wondering where it went!"

In the background, Shieldmaiden's screams had faded to ragged, barely audible whimpers. Her throat was too damaged to produce much sound now, but her body continued to convulse violently against the restraints as the nerve-activator continued its relentless simulation of being burned alive from the inside.

"Your friend doesn't have much voice left," I observed. "Soon she'll be suffering in silence. Just think about that - all that agony with no way to even express it. Trapped inside her own personal hell with no outlet, and no escape."

Wraith's tongue moved more frantically at that, desperate to please me enough to make sure I didn’t put her back in the chair and stuffed that nerve-activator up her twat. The increased pace and pressure sent ripples of pleasure through my core, my breathing quickening slightly as she found a rhythm that was genuinely pleasurable.

"That's it," I encouraged, tilting my hips to give her better access to my clit. "Show me how badly you want to stay in my good graces.” With Shieldmaiden's fading cries providing a constant reminder of the stakes, Wraith threw herself into her task with renewed determination. Her tongue circled my clit before flicking across it, then dipped lower to continue cleaning the lingering traces of Cernunnos's seed from my entrance.

I closed my eyes behind my visor, allowing myself to enjoy the sensation while maintaining my dominance. This was power in its purest form—I had won. From here, the rest was just formalities. While continuing to grind myself against Wraith's reluctantly working tongue, I turned around, sinking back onto her. Then I bent forward at the waist, bringing my face level with her exposed crotch. She was still slick from her previous forced orgasm, her labia swollen and pink from all the stimulation she'd endured. I could smell the mingled scents of her arousal and fear, but thankfully there was no lingering trace of the other guards… That was the last thing I wanted. I extended my tongue and took a long, slow lick from her entrance up to her clit, tasting her directly for the first time.

I felt her body jerk in surprise, felt her mouth falter in its movements against my sex. She hadn't expected reciprocation, and the sudden pleasure after so much pain was jarring, confusing. I took advantage of her momentary distraction to grab her thighs, forcing them further apart, exposing her completely to my mouth.

"Don't you stop. Otherwise your friend will be getting a second chance.” With that threat hanging in the air, backed by Shieldmaiden's weakening cries, Wraith resumed her oral ministrations with renewed desperation. I rewarded her compliance by returning my attention to her sex, circling her clit with the tip of my tongue before sucking it gently between my lips.

Unlike the clumsy, pain-hampered efforts of the broken-fingered contest earlier, I applied my considerable skill with precision. I knew exactly how to build pleasure in a female body, how to alternate between gentle flicks across her clit and firmer pressure against the sensitive bundle of nerves. I slid two fingers inside her, curling them upward to find the spot that would make her gasp, while my tongue continued its relentless attention to her clit. That thought bothered me for a second… I really did know what I was doing. How was I so good at this? Why had the corporation programmed me with that knowledge?

I suppose it didn’t matter.

Despite herself, despite the horror of the situation, Wraith's body began to respond. I could feel her thighs trembling, feel the involuntary clenching of her internal muscles around my probing fingers and tongue. Her tongue never stopped its frantic work against my slit as it cleaned away the last traces of Cernunnos's semen and replaced it with her own saliva. Her technique was born of fear rather than desire, lacking finesse but making up for it with desperate energy.

I focused on my own building pleasure, grinding myself harder against her mouth, directing her with small movements of my hips. I could have given her orders, but I honestly didn’t care… the power was going to make me cum faster than the sensation was anyway. Having her like this, licking me as she sobbed was building me steadily toward climax. Cleaned of Cernunnos's taint and fully in charge, this was the best I'd felt outside of Kerboros since... maybe ever.

Unlike Wraith, I had no shame about my physical response. I embraced the mounting tension, the heat building in my core. When my orgasm approached, I grabbed a double fistful of her sore tits and squeezed, making her tongue vibrate inside me in pain as I rode her face to completion. My body shuddered with release, a groan of satisfaction escaping me as waves of pleasure washed through me.

For a moment I remained still, enjoying the aftershocks of my climax. Then, without missing a beat, I stood, completely dismissing Wraith’s unwilling arousal as I stood over the panting girl, my legs wobbling with pleasure despite my augmentation. In the background, Shieldmaiden's screams had diminished to barely audible whimpers, her vocal cords shredded from hours of continuous screaming. The sound was somehow more disturbing than the full-throated screams had been – the hoarse, animal noises of a being pushed beyond the limits of human endurance.

I wiped Sarah Rathe’s juices off my mouth with the back of my hand as I looked down at her. Her face was wet with my fluids, her eyes glazed with a combination of unwanted pleasure and profound humiliation. I looked directly into those shame-filled eyes.

"Now," I said softly, almost gently, "we get to the point of all this.”

I looked over at Shieldmaiden, and Wraith's eyes followed mine. Her body continued to convulse against the restraints, though she could no longer scream properly. The nerve-activator was still working at maximum intensity, still making her feel as though she was being incinerated. Blood now trickled from lips… She must have bitten her tongue. "She can't take much more," I observed clinically. "Even with her enhancements. Hell, if we keep it up for a few more hours, she’ll be little more than a drooling vegetable. The guards won’t care… She can still take dick like that."

I leaned in closer, my visor nearly touching Wraith's forehead. “The security codes for Haven's Deep. Give them to me, and you can be done. Or you can refuse… and you two can swap places and I’ll ask her. What do you think she’ll say?"

Wraith closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. When she opened them again, I could see that something fundamental had broken inside her. The iron will of the resistance fighter had crumbled under the weight of her comrade's suffering, her own degradation, and the knowledge that there was no escape, no rescue coming.

"The codes," I prompted.

"The first sequence," Wraith whispered, her voice broken and defeated, "is six... nine... three... seven…"

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