Planet of Pain (3 page)

‘Now for Miss Mickleberry.'

It was a children's storybook:
Little Miss Mickleberry
, the girl who was afraid of anything and everything. Jo felt a prickle of resentment, and was determined not to let him see just how scared she really was. He completed the circuit of inspection, then ran his fingers through her hair as he had with Bel. The way he did it felt decidedly creepy, as if he had a fixation about it. She hadn't had her hair cut since finishing basic training, and now it was neither one thing nor the other – too long to be called short, and too short to be called long.

‘You like blondes, sergeant?' Tucker asked.

‘Very much, sir. Brunettes and redheads, too.'

‘I prefer blondes,' the major confided. ‘
Real
blondes, that is, which I very much doubt the lieutenant here is.'

She was, in fact, but didn't feel tempted to enlighten him on the matter. He came around in front of her, and without waiting to be asked she clasped her hands behind her head and stared at him with all the assurance she could muster. He smiled in a superior, knowing fashion, as if to say her charade was fooling nobody, and looked her up and down.

‘Good figure,' he conceded grudgingly. ‘Tits still a bit too big for my tastes, but not as bad as Daisy the Cow there.'

He put his hands on her breasts and proceeded to knead them. Jo waited for the inevitable insult, but none was forthcoming. He pinched her nipples, hard enough to make her gasp, and smirked at her obvious discomfort.

‘A little sensitive here, are we?'

She decided she hated him more than ever. Anger helped strengthen her, pushing out her fear. Then his hand went lower, tracking slowly down over her ribs and belly, and apprehension swamped her once more. His fingers pushed between her legs and he stroked her slit. Her every instinct was to step back, away from that gross parody of a lover's caress, and it took all her willpower just to stand still and take it. Then his fingertip found her clitoris, and he flicked it rapidly. She moaned, and shivered. Her tormentor leaned forward, his lips close to her ear.

‘You know, lieutenant,' he murmured softly, ‘I'm
really
going to enjoy fucking you.'

She didn't know what to make of that threat, or promise, or whatever it was supposed to be. He released her and stepped back, smiling broadly now, while Jo just stared at him in confusion.

‘Well now,' he said, addressing them jointly, ‘Colonel Hendricks insists I offer you one last chance to change your mind. Give us the information we need, and I swear you won't be harmed. Fail to cooperate and things will get very unpleasant very quickly. I trust I make myself clear?'

‘As crystal,' Bel said.

‘And?'

‘You've heard all you're going to hear.'

Tucker nodded happily. ‘I was rather hoping you'd say that. Sergeant Clemens, take them to the interrogation cell.'

 

 

 

 

They all went out, with the sergeant leading the way, then Bel and Jo, the two troopers, and Major Tucker bringing up the rear. They went along the passageway, thirty yards or so, to another room. It was not unlike the brig, with the same utilitarian desk and chairs, together with a tall steel cupboard. There were no cages, however, just half a dozen thin steel cables, each terminating in a metal cuff, hanging down in a row from compact drum winches mounted on the ceiling. Directly beneath these similar shorter cables were fastened to ringbolts in the floor.

There was one other object of note in the room: a chair, steel framed and thinly padded. It was the sort used by doctors for intimate examinations, except that this particular specimen had restraining straps in addition to stirrups for the knees. At the sight of the thing Jo faltered, till a firm push in the back propelled her forward.

But it was to the cables in the middle of the room that the two of them were taken, not the chair. Cuffs were fastened to their wrists and ankles and the cables winched up, drawing the women's arms above their heads, and by the time the motors stopped Jo and Bel were standing on tiptoe, straining upwards.

Major Tucker went to the cupboard and brought out a flat piece of wood a hand's breadth across, a couple of feet or so in length with one end shaped into a handle. When he slapped the flat blade against his open palm his intentions were only too plain.

‘Tell me something, captain,' he asked, ‘have you ever been paddled?'

Bel didn't deign to answer. In a leisurely fashion Tucker strolled back and took up station behind her.

‘I'll take that for a “no”, then, shall I?' He chuckled. ‘It seemed unlikely. You're not exactly the submissive type, are you?'

It was clear he was in his element; and he wasn't alone. The two troopers were grinning openly, evidently enjoying themselves immensely. Sergeant Clemens was the only one who appeared to be taking any of this seriously.

‘Here we go, then,' Tucker said. ‘Bottoms up!'

He raised his arm and swung the paddle. It contacted Bel's buttocks with a sharp crack, loud enough to make Jo flinch. Bel swayed a little, but made not a sound.

‘Ouch!' Tucker said. ‘Isn't that what you wanted to say, captain? Feel free to give vent to your feelings; truly, we don't mind a bit.'

He struck her again, with the same result. He gave her six in total, then lowered the paddle and stepped over to Jo.

‘Now for our timid little lieutenant. Will she bear it with equal fortitude, I wonder?'

Jo clamped her lips shut, not wanting to let Bel down by crying out. There was a pause, then a swish, and the next instant a stinging pain exploded across her buttocks. It hurt a lot, but she managed to keep silent. He gave her six in all, the same as Bel, and Jo was most thankful when it was over.

Except, of course, it wasn't. The major moved across to Bel once more, and stroked his hand over her buttocks.

‘Nicely pink, and just a little warm,' he said. ‘Let's see if we can't improve on the effect.'

He gave her another six, talking to her between strokes, mocking her in that same pseudo-jovial fashion. Then it was back to Jo, who found it harder to keep silent this time. Her buttocks were still smarting from the first six, and the slaps stung cruelly, but she hung on, determined to deny him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

And so it continued, with Tucker moving back and forth from one to the other. It was on the last stroke of the fourth set that Jo's willpower finally failed her, and a groan of pain was torn from her lips.

‘Aha!' the major said with satisfaction. ‘Finally… a response. I was beginning to think the pair of you had been struck dumb.'

Yet again he moved to Bel, and Jo began to despair. He could keep this up for hours if he wished. He could beat them till their buttocks were raw meat. She knew there was a limit to how much she could take, and that eventually she must break. Tears were pricking her eyes, and before long she would be sobbing for mercy, all self-control gone.

Jo's turn came around once more. She hung there on the cables like a fly caught in a web, knowing she was shaking yet quite unable to control her limbs. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, waiting for the pain.

The stroke was blisteringly hard and she cried out in desperation. Someone laughed: it sounded like the trooper who'd laughed before. The pause between the strokes seemed interminable, and she suspected Tucker had deliberately slowed down, knowing what she was going through. The man didn't need to be a genius to guess how desperate she must be to have this over and done with.

She counted off the strokes silently as the beating continued. It was very bad now. Her buttocks were dreadfully sore and each fierce stroke burned white-hot on her abused flesh. And the grim truth was, it wasn't going to stop. The beating wouldn't end until they had told these men what they wanted to know. Capitulation was their only way out.

Bel must have realised this too, for after her own set of six she gasped, ‘You win. Tell Colonel Hendricks I want to talk to him.'

‘Not so tough after all, then,' Tucker said smugly. ‘I knew you'd break of course, just not this quickly. I was hoping to give you eighty or ninety each before you cracked.'

‘Just get the colonel,' Bel said.

‘No need trouble our esteemed commander. You can say whatever you've got to say to me.'

‘No I can't. You don't have clearance. I'll talk to the colonel, and no one else.'

Tucker stared at her, then finally he shrugged and dispatched one of the troopers to fetch the ship's captain. The rest of them waited in silence, and some few minutes later Hendricks entered with the trooper in his wake.

‘I understand you wish to speak to me,' the colonel said.

‘Yes, sir,' Bel replied. ‘I'm prepared to answer your questions.'

‘Wise decision, captain,' Hendricks said. ‘A pity you didn't come to your senses sooner, but better late than never. Please proceed.'

‘Yes, sir,' Bel said. ‘Firstly,
Firefly
's computer isn't locked, it's destroyed. I erased the core memory for security reasons, obviously. Secondly, the mission we were on was a routine patrol. Six sequential jumps, three out, three back, with a special instruction to log any navigation hazard at the transit points.'

She fell silent. The colonel waited as though expecting more. When nothing came, he frowned. ‘That's it? That's what you wanted to tell me?'

‘Yes, sir.'

Hendricks turned to Major Tucker, clearly not pleased. ‘And you brought me down here for
this
?'

Tucker stiffened. ‘She insisted on speaking to you personally, sir. She implied she had classified information to divulge.'

‘
Implied
?' Hendricks snapped. ‘Just what sort of interrogation are you running here, major? You do
know
where this request originated, I take it?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘Then you'll understand the consequences of failure. I need the truth from these women, and sooner rather than later. I don't relish using such methods, but we do what we must. I expect a report on my screen in the next two hours, is that understood?'

‘Yes, sir,' Tucker said. ‘But what if… perhaps she is telling the truth, sir.'

Hendricks stared at him with incredulity. ‘Where are your wits today, major? You think any sane captain would wantonly wreck her own ship when she could achieve the desired result merely by disabling it? And, given what we know, do you believe the Alliance just
happened
to send an alpha-class scout, their latest and best, into this particular sector at this precise moment in time just to check for space debris?'

‘It seems unlikely, sir,' Tucker said faintly.

‘That has to be the understatement of the year,' Hendricks said. ‘So… can I trust you to do what needs to be done?'

‘You can, sir.'

‘Good. Two hours, major.' With that the colonel stalked out.

Tucker's shoulders slumped and he let out a long sigh. Jo almost felt sorry for the man, but then he turned to Bel with a look of such vindictiveness that all Jo's sympathy evaporated instantly.

‘Sergeant Clemens,' the major said tightly, ‘put that Reiver bitch in the chair.'

 

Bel went quietly, with no fuss. She sat down and lifted her legs over the stirrups, and they proceeded to tie her down. They fastened straps around her wrists, upper arms, knees and ankles, and others around her waist and forehead. By the time they were finished she was held fast, unable to move.

The major returned the wooden paddle to the cabinet, and took out instead a number of objects. There was a coil of wire, a slender plastic baton with a copper tip, and a smallish grey metal box with buttons and indicator lights along the top. Tucker plugged one end of the wire into the box, and handed it to the sergeant. He plugged the other end into the base of the baton, and took it over to where Bel lay.

‘You know what this is?' he asked her, holding up the baton.

‘A high voltage probe?'

‘Precisely. Know where it's going?'

‘I can guess.'

‘I imagine you can. Do me a favour, captain; hold out as long as possible. I would hate for this to end prematurely, too.'

He turned to Sergeant Clemens. ‘Go to five.'

‘Five, sir?' the sergeant said, sounding surprised.

‘You heard me,' Tucker snapped, and Clemens dropped his gaze quickly and pressed a button on the box. Tucker stepped close to his victim, paused for a second or two as if savouring the moment, then hefted the baton. He touched the copper tip to her vagina, and pushed the thing inside her. Bel groaned and stiffened.

‘Unpleasant, isn't it?' he said conversationally.