The Interrogation

by Robin Roseau

  "The key."

  "No!"

  She began stroking me again, but every few strokes tickled, and I couldn't hold still, so the weights bounced and bounced, pulling at my nipples, and it wasn't long before they were very sore, but still I refused the passkey.

  Finally she stepped away. "You would let me do that until your arms gave out, wouldn't you?"

  I nodded while I caught my breath.

  "Well then, I guess we need to add to the mix." She stepped back up and removed my earrings.

  "What are you doing?"

  "You'll see," she said. She disappeared behind me. I turned to watch her, and she said calmly, "I'll be punishing you for that when I return. Eyes forward!"

  I snapped my head back to look out the doorway.

  She returned after a moment and held more weights in front of me. I smiled. I wasn't worried about those.

  "You think you know where these are going, but you are wrong," she said. Then she held up her other hand, and in it was a sewing needle with a thin wire through the eye of the needle.

  "What are you going to do?"

  "This is very delicious," she said. "I have found that once these are in, a woman will do anything I tell her to do. Absolutely anything."

  And then she stepped closer, reaching for my ear, and I knew she was going to thread the needle and wire through my piercings.

  "Stop!" I said. "Oh Katrina! Stop!"

  "The key."

  "No!"

  I tried to struggle, but she hung all the weights from the chain attached to the nipple clamps then used both hands, one to pinch my ear severely, the other to jab the needle through the hole. I jerked away from her and instead of threading through the whole, she poked my earlobe with the needle.

  "Struggle all you want," she said. "You'll just get poked some more."

  I whimpered but relented, and she ran the needle through. She fumbled with the wire for a moment, then I saw her smile. She gave it a tug, and I turned my head wherever she wanted.

  Then she did the other ear.

  My heart was pounding, but when she asked for the key, I refused.

  She began hanging weights from the wires, and they tugged on my ears, pulling, not quite painfully, but enough I didn't like when they bounced.

  "Do you want me to stop?" she asked. "Give me the second key, and then we can stop."

  "No," I said, panting.

  She smiled and licked my shoulder, bumping the weight attached to my left ear, making it bounce painfully. "You taste so good." She looked into my eyes. "You're afraid."

  "No," I whispered.

  "You are, but you trust me, too."

  I realized I did.

  "Don't stop," I whispered. "But Katrina, will it tear my ears? Don't let it tear my ears!"

  "It won't tear," she said. "I promise, but it's going to hurt."

  "Please don't stop," I said breathlessly. "Do you want me?"

  "Oh, I want you a great deal," she whispered. "More than you can know."

  She kissed me, fleetingly, then began stroking me, tickling me from time to time, and all the weights bounced when I squirmed, and I zoned out to her touches, and then I stopped squirming, surrendering. When I hadn't squirmed for a while, she whispered, "Very good. You are becoming mine, more and more. You are surrendering to the inevitable."

  "Yes," I whispered.

  "But I promised you a punishment," she said. "I had almost forgotten."

  "Oh no. I'm sorry! I didn't know I wasn't to look!"

  "Well, this shall serve as a solid reminder."

  She walked to the dresser. I stared straight ahead. Then she was back, standing behind me.

  "Bethany, this is very intense. Maybe too intense. I am only going to do this for five seconds, then you will tell me if you are okay. Then longer."

  "All right."

  "Have you ever experienced breath control?"

  "No."

  "Do you know what it is?"

  "No."

  She didn't explain. Instead she began lowering a large plastic bag over my head, and I knew what she was going to do. I took a deep breath right before I thought she was going to close the bag off around my throat, but she must have expected that. She wrapped one arm around me and gave my stomach a squeeze, forcing the air out of me, and before I could breathe back in, she tightened the bag tightly.

  The world was murky through the bag, and I felt it pressed against my face tightly. She balled it more tightly, and I struggled for a breath of air, but all I got was the plastic pressed tightly against my lips, and no air, no air at all.

  I was near panic nearly immediately. She didn't hold it very long, enough time for my body to realize it wasn't going to get any air, and then she opened the bag and I could breathe. Air, blessed air. I took wracking breaths, on the edge of panic for air.

  "That was ten seconds," she said. "I counted."

  And then she timed it, waiting for me to exhale, before she tightened the bag again.

  Immediately I began thrashing, which was painful against my chest, but at least the weights from my ears couldn't bounce around. I struggled and thrashed, but Katrina was in complete control.

  And then I could breath again, and my breaths were nearly sobs.

  "That was twenty seconds," she said. "Twenty seconds is a long time when your lungs are empty, isn't it?"

  "I'm sorry," I gasped. "I'm sorry I looked. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

  "I know you are. Once more and I'll forgive you."

  "Please, Katrina!" and then the bag tightened.

  I struggled. The ropes bit into my wrists, and my breasts ached, and I knew it was difficult for Katrina to hang on, but she did, and I struggled, and when finally I could breathe, I was sobbing.

  "Forgiven," she whispered, pulling the bag from my head. She threw it to the side and wrapped her arms around me, holding me and speaking soothingly.

  "I think you need a break, honey," she said. "I don't want you to give in yet, but you're about to, aren't you?"

  "Yes," I sobbed.

  "Hold on just a minute, honey," she said. She ran from the room, and when she returned, she was lugging a tall stool. She set it behind me, then helped me climb onto it. It was high enough that it removed most of the weight and tension from my arms. Then Katrina stroked me and spoke soothingly to me, slowly calming me down. My sobs relented, and then she kissed me gently.

  "Do I need to stop?" she asked quietly.

  "No," I said. "I'm sorry."

  "Shhh," she said. "I am learning your limits. Now I know that one."

  She seemed to know how to calm me down. She kept touching me, soothing touches, pressing her body against me, which was deeply comforting. She gave me kisses whenever I asked for them, and slowly I grew calm. She pulled away, but she kept a hand on my knee.

  "I only calmed you down because I'm not ready to be done playing," she said. "I don't like having to pamper you after a punishment. It dilutes the punishment and is far too much like a reward."

  "I'm sorry," I said.

  "Don't apologize. I am not angry. I am explaining."

  I nodded.

  "Do you want me to stop?" she asked. "Too much tonight?"

  "No," I said. "Are you going to hang me from my arms some more?"

  "Yes, if we continue. You'll hang until I get the next key. You know you're going to give it to me. I just need to show you the bag and you'll beg to give me the key, won't you?"

  I nodded.

  "But I want you to hold on longer, honey. What do you want?"

  "I want you to be proud."

  "Oh honey," she said. "I am already proud. Even if you give me both keys right now, I am proud. Even if you ask me to stop and just hold you, I am proud."

  "Really?"

  "I am proud you are here with me, that you trust me. You are very brave."

  I smiled tentatively.

  "But I need to know. Do you want more, or do you want me to stop? What do you really want?"

  "Do you like
making me cry?"

  She cocked her head. "A little. It's not my main goal. I like knowing you try so hard to hold out for me."

  "Can you make me cry without the bag?"

  "Of course I can."

  "Can you make it last?"

  She smiled. "Of course I can."

  "Is that what you want?"

  "I want you to stop me before you cry again. I want you to enjoy this."

  "When you make me cry, will you comfort me afterwards?"

  "Once you give me the key, yes."

  I smiled and struggled to climb off the stool, standing on my tip-toes again. My arms complained immediately, but I looked her in the eye. And smiled.

  She patted my cheek. "You are very brave," she said.

  She ramped things up slowly, mixing pleasure with torment. She never outright hurt me. Individually nothing she did hurt. But it grew, it grew deliciously, and I felt my heart melting into her hand. I didn't want her to ever stop, but I knew my nerves were growing increasingly ragged.

  We both knew she could break me easily, but she was taking her time, helping me to last a long time.

  She talked to me the entire time, or she asked for promises from me, or declarations of my feelings. Everything she did, she explained first, and she gave me a chance to stop her. I didn't stop her.

  But then the cramp hit my leg, coming on quickly.

  Katrina must have been expecting it. She certainly recognized it when it started, as she stopped teasing me with the ice cube.

  "Cramp?" she asked.

  I nodded, my face a rictus of pain as I tried to stretch my foot. I whimpered. "Help me," I said. "Oh god, it hurts."

  "The key," she said coldly.

  My eyes opened widely, and she simply repeated herself. "The key."

  "I never feel as sexy as I do when Katrina looks at me," I told her.

  "Spelled backwards?"

  "Sexy."

  She helped me unto the stool and then bent down, grabbing my feet, lifting my legs straight out in front of me and flexing both toes towards the ceiling, stretching out my calves, and seconds later, the cramp faded.

  "Oh thank you," I said. "Thank you, thank you."

  She hadn't used a padlock on the ankle cuffs; they were only buckled. She unbuckled both of them, then placed my feet against her legs, helping me to hold them with my calves stretched.

  "You're welcome," she said, reaching forward to caress my cheek. "I'll hold you like this until we're sure the cramp won't come back." She talked quietly to me, telling me how proud she was of me and how amazing I made her feel.

  I desperately wanted her to hold me.

  Finally she released my feet, bug she had me hook my toes in the rung of the stool so I could flex my toes if the cramp started again. She stood up. "You know you're getting the bag if you lied to me."

  "Don't forget the period."

  She walked to the computer and said, "Say it again." Then she typed, read my note, and said, "Good girl" when she was done. I hadn't lied.

  She pulled the chair over, climbed on top of it, and unhooked my wrists from the ceiling. Then slowly she untied my wrists, rubbing them for a while, then finally pulled me into her arms. She drew me to the bed, and we cuddled. Then she rolled me onto my back and began stroking me.

  "Please hold me some more," I said. "Just a little while longer."

  So she did, cuddled against my side, her hand on my chest. She unclipped my nipples and dropped the clamps and weights to the floor. She left my ears the way they were for now. I could feel the little weights tugging lightly against my lobes.

  She cuddled and stroked soothingly, gently, and after a while I began to purr.

  "Mine," she whispered.

  "Yes." I rolled to face her. "I'm afraid."

  She stroked my face. "I'm not going to hurt you. I am going to freak you out instead. Do you want me to stop?"

  "No, but I don't want you to give me to anyone else."

  "Better hold out then," she said. "Unless you want me to stop."

  She left it to my decision. I didn't want her to stop. It felt like she held my soul in her hands, and I didn't want her to stop.

  She didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she slipped from the bed, returning shortly with wrist cuffs. She demanded a wrist, then secured it to the bedframe. She did both that way, then my legs, pulling all my limbs away from me very, very tightly. Then she climbed back onto the bed and lay against me again, stroking me, lulling me with the touch.

  I squirmed and moaned and whimpered under her touch, and she laughed her deep, throaty laugh.

  "Tomorrow you are going to do whatever I tell you to do, aren't you?" she asked.

  "Yes."

  She teased me with her hands, but it felt so good.

  She teased me with her lips, and it felt even better.

  She teased me with ice, and I moaned and asked her to never stop.

  She teased and teased, and it was all deeply delicious.

  "You make me so wet," she said, and then she reached between her own legs, bringing her hand back in front of my eyes to see how it glistened. She smeared my face then let me clean her hand with my tongue. She tasted amazing.

  "I bet you think you could take this all night," she whispered to me.

  "Yes," I whispered back.

  "Do you really think I don't have something far more dastardly planned?"

  I turned my face to look at her. "What are you going to do?"

  "Tell me. Do you like bugs?"

  "Eww."

  She smiled.

  "This is California. We have the most interesting bugs. I think I should show some to you."

  "No!" I said. "I don't need to see them."

  She pulled away, belted the bathrobe around her, and then she walked out of the bedroom. I heard her descend the stairs, then she rummaged around, and a moment later, I heard an exterior door open, barely.

  She was gone for several minutes, and I grew increasingly frantic. What was she going to do?

  When she returned, she was carrying a large plastic glass with a plastic lid. She held it up to the light, and I saw a big June bug. We get June bugs back home. I wasn't afraid of them.

  She crossed the room, holding the glass up where I could see it.

  "Do you know what this is?"

  "June bug," I said.

  "Do you know what I'm going to do with it?"

  "No."

  She smiled. "Give me the key and you won't find out."

  "No."

  I watched as she peeled the top off the glass. The bug tried to escape, but she tapped it back in with the lid, then in one smooth motion, she tipped the glass upside down directly over my belly button.

  I began to freak, just for a moment, then I calmed down.

  The June bug began crawling around on my stomach, seeking a path to freedom.

  "The key," Katrina ordered. "Now."

  "No."

  She lifted the glass, and the bug began crawling around even further.

  "The key, Bethany! You know I'm going to get it from you eventually."

  "No! I won't let you give me to anyone else. I'm not afraid of a little June bug."

  "Little? It took me forever to find a big one."

  I smiled. "Honey," I drawled as heavily as I could. "I'm from North Carolina. The bugs here in California are prep school bugs compared to the bugs we get."

  "Oh, you think so, do you?" and she began using the edge of the glass to heard the June bug down my stomach towards my crotch.

  That got my attention. That got my attention real good, but not enough to let her give me to anyone else. I clamped my lips shut and didn't say a word.

  She nudged it further, and then the bug flew away.

  "God damn it!" she said. "I worked hard to catch that one."

  I couldn't help it. I laughed. She glared at me, but she didn't threaten to punish me.

  "If it hadn't flown away, you know where I was going to make it crawl."

  "Yep. N
o biggie," I said. I was bluffing, but I wouldn't have given her the third key over a measly June bug. I wondered if she had tarantulas, then decided I wasn't worried about one of those, either.

  We get black widows. Those are a lot worse than tarantulas. I was pretty sure she couldn't scare up a black widow on short notice.

  She smiled. "So, a June bug doesn't do it for you, hmm?"

  "You're free to try again, or you could decide I won the third round and find something delicious I can do for you instead." I eyed her body. "You need more orgasms."

  "We'll see about that," she said, storming out of the room. "Damn it. It flew into the bedroom!" she said.

  "I'll take care of it for you," I told her.

  "Bitch," she yelled back, but she was laughing.

  I heard her go back downstairs, then I heard the exterior door, and I wondered what she'd come back with next.

  She was gone even longer, and when she came in, I heard water running for a while. When she finally came upstairs, she was holding a bucket. It was translucent, and I could see there was something in the bottom, but I wasn't sure what it was.

  "What do you have, Katrina?" I asked sweetly. "Spider this time?"

  "Oh no, something far better than a spider. I had to dig it up, but I know where there's a nest in my back yard. I wanted three or four, but I only found one."

  Now I was curious.

  "Mole? Snake?" It looked far too small for a snake.

  "Afraid of snakes?"

  "I have a healthy respect for them, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't bring a poisonous snake in here, and it seems pretty somnolent anyway."

  "It's a little chilly out. He just needs to warm up to wake up. I'm sure he'll be quite lively in a few minutes. Tell me, ever seen a scorpion up close?"

  I stared at the bucket. "No," I said in a small voice.

  "The key, Bethany," she said with a smile.

  I continued to stare at the bucket. "No."

  She waved the bucket around, and I saw the scorpion begin to walk around, moving in the bucket. All I could see was its shape, indistinct, but she held it so the light shined through.

  "You wouldn't really," I said.

  "You can count on it." She paused, then stepped away, setting the bucket on the dresser. She returned, and she was holding a blindfold. "I don't think I want you to watch. The anticipation will be so much more delicious this way."

  I didn't even struggle as she slipped the blindfold underneath the rope harness still on my head, securing it in place over my eyes. I couldn't see a thing out of it, and I knew I wouldn't dislodge it.