"You are here because you are the best and the brightest the armed forces has to offer. Each one of you has proved yourself time and time again. Together you make up America?s military and are a shining example of what this country can achieve." The General?s voice rang out across the field, carried by the latest in American technology to the one hundred and forty-eight men and two women assembled on the field.
They came from all branches of the military, army, navy, marines and the air force. Each one invited to serve in the country?s newest fight against terrorism without knowing how they were to serve. The invitation had been cryptic at best. A choice presented to each one from his (or her) commanding officer informing them that they could show up and learn what was needed of them or refuse but the details wouldn?t be presented to them until after they training, if they survived.
All of them had already reached a measure of success and there was no one under the rank of captain and most had already reached that of major. A few had no rank designation. All of them had been instructed not to discuss anything about their lives prior to coming here.
"Here" was a remote area in southern Louisiana where the weather was always hot and the air was alive with insects. They were standing out in the field today with the temperatures in the nineties and the air so thick you could swim in it. None of them so much as breathed deep, their eyes staring straight ahead as the General proceeded to introduce their new commanding officer.
General Wyatt stood staring out over the men (and women) with well-concealed pride. He?d pushed hard, petitioned Washington and called in every favor owed him in order to land this command and he was not about to give it up. There were only a few that understood the true nature of this new division, a division that was not beholden to any single branch of the military. Although Wyatt had been introduced by another man of equal rank he reported directly to the President and was accountable only to him. Wyatt had finally reached a point in his career where he could not only make a difference but would be able to do what needed to be done.
With the help of the President, Wyatt had chosen these men (and women) before him and decided that they were the best chance this country had for the future. Every one of them would be put through the ringer, everything the military had would be thrown at them and over the course of the next six weeks the strongest would be weeded out, the rest left where they?d fallen. There was only one way out of this training program, though none of them knew it yet. Death or success.
Wyatt finished his speech, which was blessedly brief, and began calling role. Each man (and woman) was assigned to a team. Each team was assigned a team leader and a commanding officer. Each commanding officer had one team and the team leaders were chosen at random.
Lieutenant Ginny Smith, "Ash," breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally dismissed. Without a word to the men around her, she walked quickly to her barracks. No special accommodations had been made for the two women invited, and she was grateful. She had worked hard to get where she was without having the men around her resent it and she didn?t want to jeopardize her success now. There were rumors and whispers regarding the new assignment, she took each one with a grain of salt but knew that there was a grain of truth there just as big.
Once in the barracks she gathered her things and reported as ordered to her commanding officer. It was no relief to find that it was none other than Colonel King, the only female commanding officer. There were two kinds of women in the military, those that believed that women should stick together and those that saw relationships with other women as a weakness. Ash was of the latter belief. She?d seen more women?s careers ruined by women then by men and had learned to keep her distance. Most women viewed each other as competition, both in the ranks and in the racks (bed racks that is), and she didn?t have time for it. Ash didn?t fraternize with military, male or female.
Falling into line, her pack on her back, Ash pushed her prejudice aside and paid attention. The team wasn?t given any time but was being ordered out into the swamp. They were to be taken by copter, dropped off and left to make their way back. It didn?t seem like much of a challenge, especially for this group. However, they were taken at least two days out and left in a remote area teaming with deadly gators and other swamp life. They had twenty-four hours in which to do, starting now.
There were ten members to a team; by the end of the first week Ash?s team was down to eight while other teams were down to five. Their team leader was Garrick Boyd, a thirty something red head with freckles. His obviously Irish heritage lent him an air of innocence but Ash didn?t think for one minute he was as innocent as he looked. No one got here by being innocent.
Although ordered to drop their rank it quickly became obvious that each person had different strengths, weaknesses, and talent. Ash had been one of the first women to graduate from the marines? sniper school and was considered one of the top ten marksmen (no, not markswoman) in the country. Boyd was a tracker, not a leader, and managed to get them out of the swamp within thirteen hours, the first team to make it.
There were no bonus points for being first. They were allowed twenty minutes to eat and then ordered out to assist in bringing in fallen members of the other teams. In all they spent thirty-six hours in the swamp but all ten of their team made it out.
The next six weeks went by quickly, Ash and her team members reached an easy alliance. It seemed early on they recognized her value and decided not to judge her for being a woman. She, in return, gave credit where it was due and didn?t cater to male egos. When one of their team members went down she put in the extra effort along with the rest of the remaining team in order to take up the slack. In the end she was one of only two of her team to survive and the only woman. No special notice was given to that fact, by either her commanding officer or General Wyatt.
At the end of six weeks the survivors, all nineteen of them, were brought forward individually. This time the meeting took place behind closed doors, with only the team member?s commanding officer and General Wyatt.
Ash stood at attention and listened as Colonel King and General Wyatt informed her of just what she had won. The nineteen survivors were to make up an elite team, one that was run by General Wyatt and three of the remaining commanding officers. The commanding officers reported to Wyatt and Wyatt reported to the President. They had no official designation and as far as Congress and the rest of the world were concerned they didn?t exist.
Each individual?s records, including birth certificates, social security numbers, and military enlistments were to be gathered and destroyed. As of this moment there was no longer any record that any of them ever existed. Most of them were without family, a factor that had been taken into consideration when they were chosen for this project, and few had friends. They had made a life and career out of the military and the military had swallowed them.
Her first assignment would send her and another team member to the Middle East. Once they arrived they would be given their orders. The Division, as it was to be known, didn?t want to risk them getting caught before they reached the target and being able to reveal information.
Ash was surprised when she was partnered with Boyd. The military usually encouraged teamwork and relationships, but there had been no such encouragement during their six weeks of testing.
Together they flew into Egypt and started making their way across the desert. By car, on foot and even on camel they were able to work their way into the target country and disappear into the sea of suffering humanity.
While not exactly undercover their job was to get in and get out without being seen, noticed or noted. Being a woman would have been difficult if it were for the fact that it provided them with a great cover. Covered in the traditional Middle Eastern dress her features were all but obliterated. Boyd had trimmed and dyed his red hair as well as used a tanning lotion to darken his skin so as to better blend.
They spent the next six months posing as a married couple. Recent unrest and a long history of civil war made it easy to move about without question. There were many people willing to do business with Boyd, no questions asked, for the right price. The Division was heavily, and secretly, funded. Funds were constantly wired into several accounts that only the operatives knew about and allowed them to do business.
Americans were not tolerated in the Middle East. Together, Boyd and Ash were proficient in sixteen languages and easily spoke English but without an English accent. They avoided making friends and dealt only with those necessary.
In the end they were able to reach their target, get in and get out without anyone knowing. They didn?t bother staying in the country but quickly made their way across the border into the neighboring country and from there caught a plane to London. They spent another four weeks traveling, appearing under various guises until they were recalled home. It wasn?t a vacation but a way to make sure that their tracks were covered. Any ties to the U.S. were unacceptable and no agent was recalled until his (or her) recent mission had been declared a success by all three commanding officers, Wyatt and the President.
Upon her return Ash went about setting up her new digs. Part of becoming a member of Division meant that she gave up her prior life. She?d always lived where the military told her but now she had the freedom to choose. Divisions? headquarters were in an undisclosed location and didn?t enter into her thoughts when deciding on a place to live.
The other team members were either on assignment or, like her, looking for a place to put down roots. Sitting in the members? common area, affectionately referred to as the bullpen, Ash finally decided on a plan of action. Picking up a handful of darts that someone had left on the desk she tossed them one by one across the room.
For a minute she simply sat there, wondering at this new impulsive plan of attack. Never before had she made an illogical decision. She?d carefully plotted and planned her career from the early age of eight when her parents died in a car crash. She?d lived in various foster homes and decided on the military because it brought a sense of order and control to her life. From the moment she enlisted she?d lived by the book, never questioning an order and always acting as regulation dictated. Division, with its mind only on the end results and not on how the job got done, had given her a sense of freedom she?d not previously experienced.
With a sigh, she dropped her booted feet to the floor and strolled over to the map. Hands on hips Ash considered her options. Two of the darts had ended up in the ocean, one in the Pacific and one in the Artic. Another landed in Italy, one in Egypt and the last in Georgia. For obvious reasons Egypt was out and while she?d always wanted to travel to Italy living abroad didn?t seem like a good idea.
Metter, Georgia. She?d never heard of it. South of Atlanta it promised to be hot but her time in Louisiana had proven that she could not only survive in the southern heat but that she could be comfortable there.
"Georgia it is." Throwing the darts back on the table she grabbed up her leather jacket, flung it over her shoulder and went to get her gear.
The barracks were deserted. Boyd had already gone off to who-knows-where and everyone else was either on assignment or already living on the outside. She requested a car, had it drop her at the airport and hopped the next plane heading south. She ended up in Atlanta where she rented a car and drove outside of the city.
Metter, Georgia, wasn?t much. The small town feeling promised nosy neighbors and lots of friendly faces. Ash kept driving. She needed a place big enough to get lost in, a place where no one would notice if she disappeared for months on end.
She settled on Savannah. With all the charm of the south, Savannah offered the anonymity of the city without the traffic of Atlanta. Division paid well and with the proceeds from her first successful mission she was able to buy a car, lease an apartment and begin furnishing it.
She found a loft in an old part of industrial Savannah. The hanger doors opened up into a large shop where she could garage the Miata. Stairs led to a large loft complete with big bay windows and sliding doors that could be opened to allow the salty bayou air in. A few pieces of carefully chosen furniture left most of the space wide open.
Ash carried a Division issued cell phone with her at all times. She avoided having a phone installed and settled on digital cable for both her TV and Internet. The high-speed modem allowed her to move through the Internet, keeping track of politics that were rarely reported on American news.
Division had also provided her with a cover to answer any questions regarding her employment. Her landlord received monthly deposits for the rent and they agreed that in exchange for a reduced rate Ash would be responsible for all maintenance and repairs. There would never be any need for him to contact her or to show up at the loft. But, just in case, she had the locks changed and installed a state of the art security system.
Over the next two years, Ash was sent out on seven different assignments. Some lasted several months while others were quick, easy and relatively simple. Division quickly learned to utilize her sniper skills and more and more she found herself sent out on sharp shooting missions. Division, never missing a trick, quickly recognized Boyd?s talents as a tracker and noted that the two made a skillful pair. As her spotter, he tracked the target, watched the wind and decided when the time was right for the kill. After two years they had come to an understanding of sorts and worked well together. Every mission they?d been sent on had been deemed successful.
Ash loved her work, so much so that her superiors were concerned. To most men it didn?t seem natural for a woman to set out and succeed at cold-blooded murder. Now, they could rationalize the need with ease to one another, the President and any one else that asked. But to see the end results, the pictures captured by satellite that froze the moment in time was discomforting.
At the end of each mission, the members were ordered back into headquarters for a debriefing. Ash?s report, both written and oral, were cold, concise and given without emotion. Wyatt once remarked to King that if Ash weren?t in the military she would have been diagnosed as a sociopath.
"What scares you more, that she?s a woman or that she?s could kill you before you even knew she was there?" King smiled as Wyatt paled slightly. King had watched Ash?s career closely. Everything suggested that the woman was cold, uncaring and unfeeling. She killed without question and more then once in his report Boyd had indicated that it was Ash?s superior strategy that had resulted in a successful mission. In some strange way, King was proud of Ash and she refused to watch the young woman?s career destroyed because the men in the military were uncomfortable with her success.
King?s only concern was that Ash appeared to have no social life. Since moving to Savannah the young woman had kept to herself. All of the members of Division had been under constant surveillance during the first year to insure none of them attempt to contact anyone from their past. In addition, Division wanted to know where all its members were on their off time, what their habits were and if there was anything that could be used to hurt Division. Most of the men spent their first night with a woman, Ash had spent time establishing what Wyatt referred to as her "nest." King considered it Ash?s base of operation.
It was no secret that Ash continued to monitor international events through Division?s official sources as well as her own contacts. Contacts Division would kill to get their hands on. They?d already tried monitoring her Internet activities but came up against a security system even their best couldn?t break.
After the first year, surveillance was reduced but King had taken the time to do a little of her own. She?d spent a week watching the young woman and was impressed. Ash was a solitary person, she didn?t appear to crave the comfort of a man (or another woman) the way most women did, and she was dedicated to her work. King would have it no other way.
A month after her latest assignment had been declared a success, Ash woke to the sound of someone in the loft. Rolling out of bed, she didn?t bother pulling on any clothes. Quickly, she grabbed her gun and moved into the shadows. It was late, well past midnight and the room was fully dark. The full moon, covered by storm clouds, cast occasional light into the room but it was too weak to see.
Ash found her spot, picked out when she?d first moved in because it afforded the best view of the loft, and waited. The sound came again; it was louder, closer and coming from the right. She didn?t bother taking aim, it was too dark to see what, or who, she was shooting at and firing would give away her position.
The noise stopped and silence reined. Ash was careful to keep her breathing slow and even, anyone able to pick it up would assume she was sleeping. The minutes moved by, finally a single shadow separated itself from the others and moved silently across the room, heading for the bed. Ash, on bare feet moved into position behind the would be assailant who was slowly bending over the bed.
Too late he realized his mistake. She wasn?t in the bed. She was behind him.
"Who sent you?"
"Ash. It?s me." Boyd held his hands up, fingers spread to show that he carried no weapon.
Ash checked her gun, replaced the safety and stepped away. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"We?ve been called in." Slowly, Boyd turned around, his eyes taking in the fact that she still stood naked.
Ash didn?t hurry into her clothes. Boyd had seen her naked more then once. She still shared a barrack with the other men whenever she was called into Division and didn?t ask for anything different. Most of the men hadn?t never bothered to approach her and those that had quickly learned that there was nothing there for them. Ash was casual with her rejection, not bothering to injure their pride and acting as if nothing had changed. Out of consideration, most of the men tried to give her privacy in the showers but there were times when it was inevitable that they would be in close, personal positions and privacy wasn?t an option.
Slipping on a pair of jeans, Ash tucked her gun into the waistband before pulling a white t-shirt over her head. Boyd realized for the first time that Ash didn?t realize the effect she had on men. She was pretty, not a striking beauty that every one would remember, but there was a freshness to her face that caught men?s attention. She was of average height for a woman, with long legs, a narrow waist and generous breasts. She wore her dark hair straight and often times caught up in a ponytail. She had green eyes, long black eye lashes and a generous mouth. In short, she looked like every boy?s fantasy teacher, wholesome yet sexy. But not innocent, there was a power there that was indescribable and dangerous.
Ash regarded Boyd with suspicion. She trusted him, he was a member of Division but more then that they had been partners. "I wasn?t called."
"No phones on this one, no contact. We?ve been cut loose until the mission is complete."
Ash thought about that one for a moment. Rarely, in extremely dangerous and/or sensitive cases Division would cut a member loose. Leave him on his own, no funds, no contacts, nothing until the mission was complete. The member was given his order and then left to fend for himself. It was in those cases were discovery would mean the end of the United States, an act that no country would condone. "How did you get your orders?"
"I was contacted, given the target and told to collect you." Boyd sat down on the couch across from Ash. He had long ago stopped thinking of her as a woman. She was a member of Division, but more importantly she was his partner. Together they had completed several missions for Division, all of them successful. On more then one occasion he?d witnessed Ash keep her cool under enemy fire and extremely tense situations, situations that would make most men wet themselves. She was one of the best and he respected her.
Quickly, he filled her in, telling her what he knew about their target. Ash wasn?t surprised. Her constant monitoring had already uncovered unrest in that part of the country and the target had already been named as one of the few men moving into power that could actually cause the U.S. considerable problems. She had suspected that sooner or later word of his death would reach prime time news.
Ash could usually spot the work of her other team members. Each one had developed a distinct trademark, distinct only to her. There were no patters, nothing as simple as a fondness for only using bombs or bullets. It was more a style that she had learned to spot. She didn?t know which ones belonged to a particular team member, but she recognized Division?s work when she saw it.
Together they discussed ideas while Ash got ready. She packed a small bag, one that could easily be discarded should the need arise and not be traced back to her. Next she set the security system. The loft would cycle through, randomly with lights on and off, the TV would record various programs and the computer would boot up and surf the net. She?d paid cash for the Miata and, like her rent, the insurance payment was automatically deposited into her agent?s account.
They left by the side door and walked away from the loft. Boyd?s truck was parked over and up a few blocks in a more residential area where it could blend in with the other SUVs. The kept pace with each other easily, avoiding further conversation until they were in the car.
From there they headed to the airport where they would take separate planes, entering the country via a serendipitous route. They arranged to meet in one week, both already with a mental list of gear that each one was to bring. They both had their own contacts, people that could provide whatever they needed.
Boyd arrived to find Ash already stationed in the apartment. The building had been bombed and abandoned several times over since their last assignment. Though they?d never stayed in this place before they were familiar with the area and noted the changes made by war.
Neither of them bought into the various politics, not even those of their own country. They didn?t do it because they thought their country was "right" and the enemy "wrong." They did it because it had become a way of life for them both. For them it wasn?t about ideals or politics, it was about survival. They were both good at what they did, and they had to do it for someone. If they didn?t society would condemn them.
That night they finalized their plan. It was a good plan. Simple and easy it would succeed. It failed.
They were caught, apprehended as they moved into position. Guards and dogs swarmed over the hill, surrounding them and cutting off all hope of escape. Both of them spoke the language but neither one uttered a word as they was handcuffed and placed in the back of separate jeeps.
They were taken to a nearby military prison, shoved into a cell and left there. Neither one spoke to the other, anything they said was sure to be recorded and reported. It wasn?t until the third day that they were finally pulled from their cell and the questioning started.
"Who are you?" Ash sat, her arms secured behind the back of the chair. Blood from her face dripped down onto her lap. Her jeans were fast loosing their natural color, becoming stiff and stained with her blood. For two days they had been questioning her, both in their native language and in English. On the second day they brought in a translator and tried twenty-three different languages. She never spoke.
"Who are you?" His nose was broken, making it difficult to breath. His lip was split and one eye was swollen shut. For two days he?d been questioned, first in one language then another until finally they settled on English. Boyd refused to speak; the only sound an occasional grunt of pain.
Ash was tossed back into her cell. She could hear the guards mumbling about ignorant women from the west. They assumed she was an American; she refused to either confirm or deny their accusations opting instead to take the beating for her "disobedience." They had begun a litany, telling her that it was their belief that as a woman she was subordinate to them, a refusal to cooperate was a death sentence and they would rather see her cooperate and go home. Ash knew better. It didn?t matter who she was or what she told them. They were going to kill her, one way or another. Division wouldn?t come for them; they had been cut loose and caught. They were on their own.
They quickly settled into a routine. Ash and Boyd were questioned, beaten and then given two days to recover before the cycle started all over again. It didn?t take long for their jailors to realize that neither one was going to give up any information. But instead of backing off or just killing them their jailors got creative.
It was late, Ash and Boyd were asleep, curled up next to each other on the cold cement floor sharing body heat when the guards arrived. Yanked to their feet their hands were bound in front of them before they were led out of their cell and down the hall. Ash had never been out of her cell at night, the military prison took on a more sinister appearance when lit by the low light of candles.
No one spoke to them, the soldiers simply led them into a large room, shoved them into the middle of the floor and took up their places along the wall. Ash regained her balance and stood staring straight ahead, Boyd silent beside her. This was the first time the two of them had been taken out of their cell together and into the same room.
"My name is Asad Mu?ab. I will be taking over for Major Nu?et." Asad, a tall man of Middle Eastern decent, circled the two prisoners slowly, his hands folded behind his back. He spoke to them as if they were errant children, assuming that they understood. It was obvious that they were two highly trained soldiers, neither one of them breaking after more then two months of torture. He knew that they wouldn?t have been sent here without speaking the language. "The Major failed. I will not."
Turning, Asad spoke to one of the soldiers and motioned him forward. Quickly, he rattled off instructions. Boyd was seized, pull into the corner of the room and had his hands attached to a chain hanging from the ceiling. A blow to the back of the knees sent him crashing to the floor. The slack in the chain was then taken in until his arms were stretched high over his head. From this position he could see everything that went on in the room but would be powerless to do anything.
Ash watched, her eyes locked with Boyd commanding him to remain silent. Another guard was called forward and Ash found herself strung up as well, except she remained standing, the tension on the chain forcing her onto her toes.
An ear splitting crack ripped through the air.
Unwillingly, Ash found herself turning toward the sound. Asad now held a long, leather bullwhip in his hand.
"The Major believes in using brute force to gain information. I prefer?more pleasurable means of making people talk." Without warning he reached out and sent the whip flying through the air, only this time he had a target.
Ash bit down on her lip as the tail of the whip ripped through her shirt and into the skin on her back. A razor sharp sting set her back on fire causing her to catch her breath. Before she had time to prepare the whip was back, tearing another piece of her shirt, mere centimeters from the first. The force of the whip hitting her skin and the piercing pain sent her falling forward on her toes but the shortened length of chain was there to jerk her back, ensuring that she was never out of Asad?s reach.
Asad continued sending out his whip, watching as it ripped through shirt and skin until blood and fabric started falling on to the floor.
Ash gasped for breath, her legs had long since given out on her and the only thing holding her up were her wrists. She could feel the flesh of her back being sliced open, the blood was dripping down onto the floor around her and she no longer tried to keep from screaming. Asad had laid open nearly every inch of her back but continued to whip the raw, exposed muscle underneath.
Asad, a master at anticipating people?s tolerance, waited until she was on the point of passing out. She had broken out in a sweat, her head hanging forward between her arms and the room was filled with the sound of her sobs. Tossing the whip aside he strolled over to the corner of the room.
Ash watched Asad as he walked across the room, grabbed Boyd by the hair and pulled his head back. "What kind of man are you that you would stand here and let her take a beating for you? No woman should be treated this way. You have the power to stop it. All you have to do is tell me who you are, who sent you and what were your orders."
Boyd stared up into the blackest eyes he had ever seen. Asad was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his large eyes dilated and his breath coming in quick pants. The man had enjoyed whipping Ash. Boyd was well aware that there were people out there that got off on inflicting pain. If Boyd didn?t talk he knew that he would bear witness to unspeakable cruelty, all of it directed at Ash.
"No!" Ash lifted her head and locked eyes with Boyd. She spoke in a garbled mix of languages, a code they had worked out early in their partnership. "You know that he?ll never stop, no matter what you say." Ash shuddered in pain as she tried to breath. "No matter what happens, don?t speak! DON?T SPEAK!"
Asad ordered one of his men forward. Quickly the soldier stalked over to Ash and slapped her.
Ash felt her head rock back and then the world went black.
Boyd watched as they let Ash fall to the floor after releasing her wrists. She was unconscious, her back still bleeding but they weren?t finished with her. A bucket of cold water was enough to bring her back. In his mind he could still hear her last words, don?t speak, don?t speak, and repeated it to himself.
Asad ordered her stripped, the last of her shirt and jeans thrown aside, and laid out on a table. Her wrists and ankles were secured to the four corners and her neck held in place by a thick metal band. Another command saw a cart wheeled into the room and up next to the table.
Ash moaned, fighting to remain conscious, wondering if it wouldn?t be better for her if she didn?t.
Asad reached out and almost lovingly brushed the tangled hair back from her face. He tapped her on either side of her face, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to get her attention. "Now, let?s see how well you can withstand electricity."
Electrodes were attached to both nipples, the under side of both breasts and on both of her labia lips. "I do not like repeating myself so I will ask you only once. Who are you, who sent you and what were your orders?"
Ash knew she was in for a lot of pain, she?d had a sample of electric shock torture while in training. She also knew that she was on her own. Boyd wouldn?t stop them and Division had left them to fend for themselves. Still, there was some fight left in her, even with no hope of escape. Licking her lips, she made as if to speak, drawing Asad?s face down closer to her. When he was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath brush her cheek she used her last bit of energy and spit.
Asad reared back. "Bitch! I will teach you what we do to women like you." Reaching over Asad adjusted the dials and flipped a switch, closing the circuit.
Several units of electricity flowed into Ash?s body, immediately singing the skin on her most sensitive parts. She screamed uncontrollably as her body arched off the table. Loosing control of her bladder, she pissed herself and started to black out but just as sweet oblivion was about to take her Asad flipped the switch, breaking the circuit.
Ash collapsed back onto the table, drenched in piss and sweat she gasped for air. Her body shuddered and her mind wandered trying to find a way to escape. Physically she was trapped but if she could just get her mind to let go she could escape into a world without pain. Opening her eyes she saw Asad standing over her, there was a gleam in his eyes and she knew that he was enjoying this, waiting to see how long it would take her to break.
"I will not repeat myself, if at any time you want the pain to stop all you have to do is give me the answers I seek." Turning his attention, Asad ran his hand down her sweat-drenched body. She was a beautiful woman, even by his culture?s standards. Her dark hair and dark eyes hinted at European descent. To bad she?d been raised in the west, here she would have been raised to be a proper woman, a proper wife. Asad felt that woman like her were an abomination. Women were meant to serve, to bear a man?s son and to take care of the men in her life. Without that a woman was nothing. The one lying before him was only half a woman in his eyes. Ah, but he could, and would, make her into a woman. Asad would be the one to show her how a woman was to serve and he would be the one she belonged to. There was no greater challenge then to train a willful woman, a challenge he rarely received in his country where woman were raised from the cradle to serve.
His hand roamed free, moving from breasts to belly and back again. He teased the tender nipples, pinching them through the electrodes until she whimpered. He ordered water brought and cleaned her and the table of her filth before finally slipping his hands between her thighs.
Asad tugged on the electrodes attached to her pussy, using them to hold open her nether lips and exposing her. "This is where your value lies, the place where a man plants his seed and from where his son?s will spawn. You are nothing more."
Ash watched his face. She could see that Asad believed every word of it. He?d been raised to view women as nothing more then a vessel for a man. He resented the idea that as a woman Ash was stronger then most men and held power of her own. She knew that no matter what she or Boyd said Asad would do everything in his power to break her.
Turning back to her, Asad once again asked, "Are you ready to answer my questions?"
Ash turned her head and stared up at the ceiling, against her better judgment she said, "Go to hell."
Asad turned red with rage. His hands, jerked back from her body as if it burned, landed on the machine. With a vengeful smile of victory he turned up the dial and flipped the switch.
The first jolt of electricity caused Ash to arch off of the table, her body on fire. For several seconds she was held there, suspended in pain and her muscles tense until finally she passed out.
Asad flipped the switch, breaking the current. Again he ordered the men around him to stir her, bringing her back into a world of conscious pain where only he existed and where the cycle would begin again. Repeatedly, Asad opened and closed the circuit until Ash lay weeping before him, little of the once proud woman he?d seen when he first entered the room remained. She was no longer proud and defiant but spoke now incoherent words, a muddled language he couldn?t decipher.
Realizing he?d reached her limit, Asad removed the electrodes, knowing that any more would break her beyond repair. He wanted her spirit broken, not her mind.
To that end he had the cart removed and ordered her cleaned once again, the cold water bringing her back to the edge of consciousness. Asad, his hands once again clasped behind his back, strolled to the end of the table and stood staring up between her legs. A sharp command saw her wrists, ankles and neck released allowing him to grab her by the ankles and yank her towards him until her legs hung off the end of the table.
Ash moaned as the tender skin of her back broke open. She could still feel hot fingers of electricity flowing through her body, the smell of singed skin heavy in the air. Unable to reach total unconsciousness, she was all to aware of the men still stationed in the room.
Asad looked down at his work. Her body was covered in sweat, her breasts heaving with the effort of breathing and occasionally little moans of pain and protest slipped passed her lips. It was like music to his ears, no longer did she sneer at him, staring with those eyes so sure of her worth and power, now there was just pain. Grabbing her thighs with his hands, he rubbed the front of his pants between her legs, feeling the heat of her body seep through the fabric to tease his engorged cock.
Ash moaned and tried to push him away, a woman?s instinct already telling her what was to come.
Asad easily brushed her weak hands aside, amused by her feeble protests. Turning his head he saw that her partner had allowed his head to fall forward between his arms no longer able to watch as she was tortured. A quick command saw a soldier scramble across the room, grab Boyd by the hair and yank his head back. "You will watch as I show you what a woman is good for."
Boyd stared straight ahead, with unseeing eyes he watched as his partner was tortured and raped, the entire time he heard her voice echoing in his head, "don?t speak", "don?t speak".
Asad dismissed the man, no longer caring as long as he knew that Ash?s partner would bear witness to her shame. Reaching between her legs, one hand still braced on her thigh, he unzipped his pants and released his cock. Already hard, it sprang free, the sensitive head brushing the heat between her legs. Bending over her, he placed his lips next to her ear and whispered, "This is where you belong and where you will remain until you tell me what I want to know."
Ash whimpered as she felt the heat of his breath against her cheek. Already she felt smothered, his body pressed against her, his chest flattening her breasts while he sought entry between her legs. Finding her passage, he pressed forward.
Asad smiled as the woman screamed beneath him. Her body was tight and unprepared for his entry. Roughly, he thrust forward, tearing through the resistant folds of her pussy and burying himself in deep. He could feel her muscles tightening around him in protest, her body trembling on the table as he pulled back only to surge forward again and again.
Ash moaned and tried to slide back along the table, tried to move away from the source of this latest pain. But she was weak, her muscles refusing to cooperate. She wasn?t a virgin but lack of a love life left her tight and unprepared for the feeling of being filled.
Asad, enjoying himself, thrust forward feeling her flesh start to give as in its own defense it began to lubricate. Able to slide forward more easily, he picked up the pace, thrusting forward, sinking himself into her tender flesh before withdrawing. He varied the pace, moving fast to increase his pleasure then slowing down to keep from coming. He wanted it to last, wanted her to know what it was like to lay beneath him and know that this was what she was to be used for.
"This is where you belong, bucking beneath me." Asad smiled and reached forward taking her breast in his hand and pinching the nipple. Immediately, the tender nub tightened. "See, your body instinctively knows that this is what it was meant for. And all these men will watch and witness as your body bucks to my tune."
Changing his stride, Asad shifted his position, working to stimulate the tender nub of her clit. He refused to simply rape her, he wanted to make sure she enjoyed it and then suffered the humiliation of having it witnessed, by his men and hers.
Ash moaned, the fire in her belly fight with the pleasure now being bestowed upon her body. With her eyes closed, she felt him shifting above her, felt the heat of his mouth as it closed over the tender skin of her nipple. His stokes became longer, slower and deeper, forcing her towards a pleasure she did not want to experience. Her body, already over-stimulated from the pain and confused by the pleasure, responded. Unwittingly, her hips began to move, rising up off the table reaching to meet each downward thrust of his cock.
Asad lifted his head and smiled as he felt her rising up to meet him. "Shall we add a little pain to the mix?" Without waiting for her to answer, he lowered his head, this time taking the other nipple in his mouth and grasping it between his teeth. At the same time he slipped his hand between their bodies and started stroking her clit.
Ash came unglued. The pain in her nipple as he ground it between his teeth warred with the pleasure between her legs. The contradictory sensations let loose along her muscles wound her tighter.
Asad could feel her tightening beneath him, with a grunt of victory he thrust forward, nearly lifting her off the table.
Ash cried out as her body, tightened to a fevered pitch, suddenly released in a long wave of pleasure. She felt herself shudder; of their own volition her hips lifted up off the table and pressed firmly against the downward stroke of his cock as she came. Weakly, she raised one hand and held his head against her breast, unwilling to let him deny her the pleasure of the pain he had inflicted on her tender, tortured nipple.
Asad felt the wave of wet warmth wash over his cock and surged forward felling himself slam against her cervix, most assuredly bruising her internally as he came. He felt her hand slip into his hair and sucked harder on her nipple as he released wave after wave of his seed deep into her body.
With a final shudder he lifted himself from her body. Holding out his hand, he received a warm, wet towel and cleaned her juices from his cock before securing himself back in his pants. The power of command once again settled over him as he looked dispassionately at the woman before him, satisfied to watch as his seed leaked from her body to pool on the table beneath her still spread thighs.
"So you see, that is all you are good for and that is how you shall serve me until I tire of you." Asad, ordering the two prisoners back to their cell, turned and left the room.
