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moment conscious only of her nakedness and how the marks of the whip chafed on the rough blanket under her. The thought that she had been whipped went round and round in her head. It was scarcely credible. Only a few hours ago she had been a competent, independent woman and a police officer. Now she was a chained and naked captive at the mercy of brutal men who had hung her in chains, casually opened the most intimate parts of her body, made her perform oral sex and had whipped her. Her heart skipped a beat at the very thought of that outrage. She heard again how the lashes hissed through the air and how they cracked down on vulnerable female flesh. Her hand traced the welt left by the last lash she had suffered. It ran across her breasts and her nipples still ached and throbbed.
    Her thoughts were interrupted by Brother Davis. He opened her door and stepped into the tiny room. He said nothing but simply undressed. It had only been a matter of time, Paula thought, before it came to this. She watched him in silence and saw that he was muscular and lean. In particular she noted the broad shoulders and powerful chest, it was no wonder the whip hurt as much as it did when he swung it. His sex was fully erect already and this time Paula could see it clearly. How on earth had she managed to get him into her mouth at all? The shaft was thick and long, sticking up proudly from the thatch of dark hair at its base. Its head was huge and gleaming, she could almost taste it again just looking at it.
    He came to stand over her and looked down thoughtfully. “Let’s see if you fuck any better than you suck.”
    His words jerked Paula back to the very real danger of her position. To be a prostitute in these men’s hands was bad enough, to be a spy and at their mercy was unthinkable. She had to forget WPC Cheever; she was Paula the slut, the tart now. She fucked for a living.
    She put her hands by her sides and opened her legs. He nodded and then knelt on the bed, astride her. His strong hands reached down and took hold of her breasts.
    “Good big tits. I like that,” he said, and began to knead them, squeezing them and pulling them hard. Then he switched his attentions to her nipples and Paula gritted her teeth to prevent herself from crying out as he pulled hard at them as well and rolled them between thumb and forefinger. He revived the burning pain of the whip and kept on until at last he made her gasp and moan. Then he slapped them. Paula’s eyes opened wide with shock as he did it again, left and then right. The smacks echoed off the stone walls and she cried out again as he slapped for the third time, much harder and she felt the weight of her breast flesh sway across her chest.
    Davis grinned as he lowered himself down onto her. “Nice hard nipples too. They’ll look good under the whip.”
    To her dismay she realised that he was right, she could feel the tightness in her breasts now. And then his hand went down to her sex. His fingers roughly parted her lips and he felt his way up into her. She desperately tried to pretend that she was used to this, that men took her body for their pleasure every day. She opened her legs further and he began to toy with her clitoris. He was brutally rough, rubbing at it and flicking it then feeling up into her vagina again. She could feel his breath on her cheek, his weight was crushing her breasts and his hand went on and on playing with her. And at last, just as it had earlier, her body began to respond as though it had been bludgeoned into submission. Paula moaned as she felt herself moisten and a fire start deep in her belly. Davis felt her juices begin to flow over his fingers and he laughed softly. He shifted his position on her and Paula raised her hips to offer herself to his sex. It was what a good professional would do, she told herself and gave a throaty gasp as she felt him push into her and fill her passage. He began to move slowly inside her and she could feel her body try and