The Interrogation of Eve

by Aletessa:  http://deviantart.com/aletessa

Eve sat on the bed in her hotel room, staring at the thumb drive in her hands.  Being tapped by an honest-to-God spy to deliver a package was almost the last way she expected this Tae Kwon Do tournament to end, and trading her prize to know what was on it would have been a tempting offer.

A knock at the door.  "Room service."

If Eve had been watching this in a film, she might have called the girl on screen an idiot for buying that.  But no one ever really knows what kind of story they're living through.  As she turned the handle, the door was rammed open, smacking into her hard and sending her stumbling. Two figures barrelled in, one of them tackling her.  As the second closed in, she launched a kick at his midsection, doubling him over, but then felt a sharp jab at her neck; the first attacker had stuck her with something.  That did mean he'd let go, and she dodged away from him, aiming another kick... but too slowly; her body was weakening from whatever she'd been injected with.  He caught her leg and shoved her down; both men pinned her as her mind spiralled down into darkness.

"... she's not an agent.  She's just some dumb bitch they roped in as a courier.  Make her tell you who gave her the drive."  The voice was the first thing to register in Eve's returning consciosuness.  The second was discomfort in her arms and legs; she tried to shift her position, but nothing moved.  Her wrists, her ankles, were tied; she was bent back into a hogtie.  And... her clothes were gone.  Had they?  While she ached all over, it didn't feel like they had; but how could she know for sure?  They'd moved her, stripped her and bound her while she was unaware; the possibility of what else they might have done was like ice in her veins.

One of her attackers approached the cage, the door screeching as he opened it.  Without a word to Eve, he rolled her over so her back was toward him, and took hold of the rope joining her wrists and ankles, using it to drag her unceremoniously across the floor.  The rough concrete scratched at her belly, thigh, and breast, and she saw small streaks of blood being left behind her.  The room was large but bare, containing only the cage and a couple of tables.

Near the centre of the room, he dropped her onto her front, cut the rope and lifted her bound arms sharply; hooking them to something, something that abruptly hoisted her up, pulling her body off the floor. The shock and pain in her arms forced a cry of pain, and made her vision blur; before she could react, they'd pulled her legs apart and rebound them, to metal rings in the floor she realised as her sight cleared. She was bent over forwards, hanging from her arms, her legs barely touching the floor, every limb shaking with strain.

One of them took her jaw in a bruising grip, forcing her head up to meet his eyes.  "Who gave you the drive," he demanded.  "Where were you taking it?"  Eve said nothing, tried to look away, but had neither the strength nor leverage to move her head.  "One more chance before this gets painful."  She shut her eyes.  She knew they were going to hurt her, maybe kill her; could she go through this for a man she met for ten minutes?

Yes.  They'd never let her live if she talked; keeping quiet might be the only way she'd ever have to beat them.

The grip on her jaw vanished, followed less than a second later by a blow to her face.  And then a rain of them:  face, neck, shoulders, breasts; no pattern to them that she could hold on to to prepare for the next.  At the same time, at the other end of her, the second man slid his fingers into her pussy.  Eve tried to twist away, but her bonds made it hopeless; he began to play with her lips and clit, sliding in and out of her.  Desperate for something other than pain, her body started responding to the invasion, unwelcome jolts of arousal running through her despite the beating she was enduring.  The clashing sensations disoriented her more than the blows alone ever could.

The second man entered her again; but not a finger this time.  Eve could no longer hold in her gasps of pain at the first man's blows; but as the second one's cock pounded into her, the slew of shame added to the chaos in her mind made her afraid they sounded like moans of pleasure.  She tried to concentrate on the pain, to ignore how the rape excited her body.  It seemed to go on forever until the man inside her reached his climax.

The first man stopped the beating at the same moment, and pulled Eve's head up by her hair.  "Did you like that, slut?  If you tell us what we want to know, maybe we can do it again.  Or we can do worse if you don't."

"Go easy on yourself and tell us," the second man added.  "You don't owe that guy anything; you sure don't owe him all this."  For a moment, Eve almost broke, but the grotesqueness of the man who'd just raped her playing good cop... fuck these bastards, she wasn't going to talk for them.  She very deliberately closed her mouth, then her eyes, expecting another blow to the face.

Instead, one of her captors kicked the back of one of her knees, bending that leg under her; her body dropped, sending pain tearing through her arms, and forcing another scream out of her.  The men pulled her off of whatever she was hooked to and she dropped to the concrete floor.  She felt them cut her wrist bonds, and tried to struggle free, but everything hurt and she couldn't stop them pulling her flat onto her back, and tying her arms back down to rings like they had her legs.

Without pause, they wrapped a cloth around her head, cutting off sight and breath.  A few seconds later, there was pressure on the cloth, pressure that leaked through to her nose and mouth and lungs; she tried to hold her breath to keep the sensation of drowning from overwhelming her.  But then she felt one of them penetrate her again, ramming his cock in hard; every thrust pushing breath out of her body and letting more water in, as all she could do was thrash helplessly in her bonds and try not to choke.

Again, Eve felt her rapist come inside her, and again the torture at her face abated at the same time.  The cloth was pulled away and one of the men leaned down at her, demanding answers again:  who gave her the drive, where was she taking it?  Right now, though, they'd overplayed it; all Eve could do was cough up water, it would be minutes before she even could answer.  Minutes she could use to try to pull her scattered strength back together.  "Back in the cage then," her captor said.  "And we'll see what happens when we take you back out."

Stagnant adrenaline left Eve too exhausted to resist as her interrogtators cut her free and dragged her back to the cage, dumping her inside. She crawled to the farthest corner and curled up as tightly as she could.  They returned to the far side of the room, conferring too quietly to overhear.  But that gave her a few minutes to herself.  A few minutes where she didn't have to fight, could save her strength, could let herself cry.

But only a few.  Whatever conversation they were having, a decision seemed to have been reached.  One of the men crossed the room to the cage.  She could feel it, this was her last chance to talk, or they would kill her; and if she told them, they would kill her anyway.  If she was going to live through this, now would be her only moment to escape.

Eve crawled to the cage door, trying to affect a broken look; make him think she was done, put him off guard.  It didn't take a lot of acting. As he unlocked the door, she rammed it open, the same trick they'd used on her what seemed like forever ago.  His forearm passed through two of the bars as the door opened; as the angle changed, they closed on it, twisting him sideways and sending him over, letting out his own cry of pain.  Eve scrambled out of the cage, running for the nearest table; a weapon, anything heavy, if they got hold of her without one, she would die here.

The second man intercepted her; she tried to dodge, turning his tackle into a collision, but the impact still knocked her down.  She was halfway back up when his kick slammed into her side rolling her onto her back.  She aimed her own kick at his shin knocking his leg from under him.  He fell heavily to one knee, still reaching for her.  She snapped two more kicks, her desperation lending her strength and speed; groin then throat, both connecting, he went down.  Scrabbling round, she grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the concrete floor until he lay still.

The first man had extricated himself from the cage door, and was running at her; dimly Eve registered the way he was holding his arm, and realised she must have broken it.  She levered herself back up and reached the table, grabbing at anything she could find to use.  A blow connected with her back, knocking her into the table, and her was on her, holding her down with his weight, his good arm around her throat. Syringe; she saw the syringe, reached for it, jabbed it above her head.  It connected somewhere, the man's grip on her loosened and he stepped back.

With the last of her strength, she grabbed something else and swung it round into his head, staggering him.  Only after the blow had connected did she realise she was holding a gun.  Expecting her to try to shoot him, the man went to disarm her; instead she snapped out another kick.  Off balance, he went down, and Eve dropped on him hard, hammering the gun into his face until he too was still.

And then it was over.  Eve crawled away from them both, and huddled on her knees until the trembling in her muscles subsided.  The second table had her clothes piled on it, with her phone and the thumb drive.  She pulled her clothes on, wincing as every wound and strain protested the movement.  She took her phone and the drive, registering the time on the phone's screen; had her ordeal really lasted only a couple of hours?  She stumbled out of the room, down the nearest steps, found an outside door, and was free.  Eve turned her face up to the sky and let the night air wash away what pain it could.