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La Isla

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La Mina - Part 3 of La Isla.


Excerpt from 'The Economic Geology of the Caribbean Americas.' 8th Edition, Oxford University Press, 2018.

'For over 100 years, the placer deposits along the many small rivers coming off the Santa Maria Mountains have enabled small scale gold and mineral operations. However, in 2015, the authorities in San Allende announced the discovery of more substantial deposits in partially conglomerated gravels and sands in the area, and operations have become more substantial. In addition, efforts are underway to explore the interior to determine the parent deposit.'
 
Chapter 1


626 felt the sweat start to bead on her skin again, and smiled grimly. How often has she longed for an escape from the constant heat, and yet he she was, glad to feel the warmth and humidity banish the cold she had felt during the flight.

She had no idea how far they had flown, how long it had taken. For most of the flight, all she knew was how cold she was, the outside air temperature seeping in, until she and the other prisoners were trying to huddle together despite their all being chained in place by the neck.

Teeth chattering and bodies shivering, the prisoners had spent the flight in considerable discomfort until the aircraft had corkscrewed down out of the sky, made a short approach, then landed in a a cloud of prop raised dust.

Working quickly, the guards had released them from the aircraft, once again joining the collars of each prisoner to the next by a length of chain, then marched them out of the aircraft, 626 in the lead this time.

The airfield was little more than a dirt strip, carved out of the jungle, ringed by high, barbed wire topped mesh fences, marked with signs indicating that the mesh was electrified. A series of watchtowers dotted the circumference of the field, soldiers looking out over the jungle, something 626 had noted. The corkscrewing in on the aircraft, the attention paid to the jungle, all this suggested that the area was not as secure as La Isla, that rebels might be active nearby.

The guards led the string of 6 prisoners to a waiting military jeep, a machine gun mounted on a post in the back of the passenger compartment. Another length of chain was joined to the front of 626's collar, the other end locked to an eye fixed to the back of the jeep.

The Jeep roared into life, and they were away, 626 and the other prisoners running after the jeep as it set off down the field and through a guarded gate at the far end.
 
Chapter 2

626 dropped to her knees as the jeep finally stopped. It wasn't that the jeep had been driven fast, the rutted and winding nature of the road they had taken to get here prevented that, but they had still had to jog for most of the journey. Worse than that was that they had been jogging in the cloud of dust kicked up by the jeep, so they were all slicked in a slurry of sweat and dust, coughing and eyes streaming.

She blinked, trying to clear her vision, so she could take in the surrounding camp. Like the airfield, this was surrounded by razor wire topped electrified fences, a pair of them, with a substantial area of dead ground between the fences. There were a double set of towers, both inner and outer, with guards looking both inside and outside the camp.

Inside, she could see a series of low huts, barracks rather than cells, and an array of armoured personnel carriers, ex - Soviet, if she was guessing right. What she couldn't see was any sign of other prisoners, though the fact that the line of fence and towers stretched off into the distance and what looked like down a slope hinted that the camp was much larger than it first appeared.

This suspicion was proved correct as a waiting group of guards in camouflage uniforms unhooked the chain from the jeep, and with a barked order, had the prisoners doubling over towards the slope, still joined by the chains linking each iron collar.

The guards doubled along with them, freely swinging billy clubs that they carried if anyone slowed or stumbled. Being the in the front, 626 got quite a share of this, the female guard running along side her seeming to take a particular delight in trying to make 626 fall by using the club on the back of the knees. 626 was close at times, but didn't fall, though the strikes made her cry out in pain each time.

As the crest of the slope approached, the arrangements at this end of the camp came into focus. Armoured trucks were at the right hand side, parked inside their own compound of wire. More low buildings were to the left, and it was to one of these that the 6 prisoners were directed, finally halting by a closed door.

The female guard, a close cropped blonde, stood in front of 626. 'I've been told that you tried to escape. Is that true?'

626 nodded, only to get a swift punch to the stomach, doubling her over and knocking the wind out of her. The guard grabbed a handful of 626's hair and hailed her upright again.

'Let me make this clear to all of you.' She raised her voice so all of the prisoners could hear. 'You may only speak if a guard speaks to you. You will address each guard as Sir. The correct answer to my question, you useless puta, is 'Sir, Yes Sir!'' She tugged at 626's hair, pulling at it until 626's face was below the guard's own. 'Do you understand?'

'Sir, yes Sir!'

'Did you try to escape from your previous camp?

'Sir, yes Sir!'

The guard looked 626 up and down, taking note of the twisted fish hooks that pierced each nipple. 'I'm going to take a special interest in making your life a particular form of hell. Do you understand, puta?'

'Sir, yes Sir!'

'Good.' She raised her voice. 'Now, all of you miserable idiots, follow me for processing!'
 
Chapter 3

The whip crashed down across 626's shoulders, bringing a horse cry of pain from her dry throat, but she forced herself forward, pushing as hard as she could against the bar in front of her, stepping as widely as the chains that joined her ankles together would allow.

She glanced sideways, to her right, where another prisoner was on the same bar, just one bar of four on a big wheel, each manned by two prisoners and connected to a mechanism that macerated the rocks and gravel that other prisoners poured into the machine.

626 had no doubt that she looked just like the prisoner to her inside, drenched in sweat that flowed freely down from her head, the hair close cropped to one millimeter length. Around the neck a heavy iron collar, the pins peened closed to make it impossible to remove. Matching iron bands circled the wrists and ankles, chains joining both together, making it hard to take the long strides that would make the pushing of the mechanism slightly easier. Short chains attached the wrist irons to the bar, keeping the prisoners in their place at the wheel.

The iron cuffs and collar had been put around her neck and limbs during the processing, which amounted to that and the hasty shaving of head and pubic hair. She had caught a snippet of conversation, learning that this was a security measure, to make sure no little speck of mined material could be secreted out of the work area.

After this, and a perfunctory body exam that amounted to no more than a couple of fingers inserted roughly into mouth, cunt and ass, they were led out of another door and down the first of a series of terraces with slopes for access to each level.

The first slope led then down to a wide terrace that was devoid of any sign of mining. Instead, the majority of the terrace was occupied by an open space, enclosed by razor wire fences, with guard towers at regular intervals. Inside, she could see a handful of prisoners sprawled out in the heat of the day, clustered together under ratty open sided huts, little more than a tin roof and four supports each.

Between them and the enclosure was obviously the area set aside for punishment, placed so prisoners leaving the enclosure had to march through the area, seeing the fate of anyone who fell foul of the guards. The whipping posts were unoccupied, but she could see prisoners hanging from bamboo frames, and even some staked out on the ground. Closest to the edge of the terrace, away from anything that would block the sun were a series of metal boxes, sized that one person could fit inside when standing.

The blonde guard noticed where 626 was looking.

'Don't worry, you'll see the inside on one of those boxes soon.' she laughed.

The next terrace down marked the start of the actual operations of La Mina. The prisoners passed first through a narrow passage roofed with tin, a bottle neck designed to force prisoners into single file. A series of shower heads in the roof could be turned on to wash the prisoners down.

Once through the bottleneck, they came across the first of the prisoners at work, groups of them, working at giant sieve tables, swinging them back and forth as loose material was dropped into one end, the fine dust falling through, leaving larger material to be raked off the table into hampers at the end. These prisoners at least didn't have to march or carry, but they were streaked in a slurry of sweat and fine dust.

They passed a series of other prisoners weighted down by open pack baskets made of rattan, carrying material to the tables, until they came to the mascerating machine. It was here that 626 was led off to where she was now, pushing at the bar that drove the mascerator.

How long has she been pushing at this bar now? She had no idea. The ground underneath was covered in sharp stones, and she winced from time to time as one pricked at her bare feet. She could feel the ache in her legs, weighed down by the iron cuffs and the chain that dragged on the ground. The guard seemed to take a particular interest in making sure that 626 was not slacking, so her back was cross crossed by angry red weals left by the enthusiastic use of the whip. Above all though was the thirst. The whole camp was dusty, and she could feel it gritty inside her mouth, even if she wasn't coated in it like the shifters were.

She looked up, seeing other prisoners carrying rattan baskets of freshly dug material up from the terrace below, to pour into the machine she was working at, just one of four such machines in action.

The whip descended again, but for once it fell on someone in pushing on the bar in front of hers, bringing a howl of pain from the prisoner. 626 dropped her head and tried to push harder.

-*-

The sun was low in the sky before the guards called a final halt for the day, 626 dropping to her knees with exhaustion, heedless of the stones beneath her.

They had stopped briefly twice during her ordeal, so guards could give the prisoners something to drink. This was a process like everything else in the camp. On the command of '¡Agua!' the wheel was halted, and the prisoners dropped to their knees, and tilted their heads back to look at the sky, mouths open. Guards carrying bottles just poured water from above, a delivery method that left the prisoners spluttering and coughing as it inevitably ended up going up the nose and into the eyes as well.

Guards now worked around the wheel, releasing prisoners from the chains that held them to the bar, lining up the released prisoners to one side. When the guard came to 626, a shouted order made him stop.

'Not her. She arrived today, and hasn't done her full shift today. Leave her on the wheel'

626 looked around. The female guard, the blonde, had given the order.

The guard released a long whip from her belt, shook it out so it was ready to use.

'I'll make sure she completes her shift...'
 
Chapter 4

'Stand up you lazy bitch!'

626 struggled to her feet, not heeding the flow of prisoners coming up from the lower level of the mine. Her focus was entirely on the guard, who was removing her combat dress shirt revealing a well muscled torso in a black sports bra.

'I understand you are quite the special prisoner. A Yanqui, no less.' She moved in front of 626, looking her up and down, taking in the dirt and sweat streaked form. 'A journalist...a professional liar... Am I correct?'

'Sir! Yes Sir!'

The slap came out of nowhere, spinning 626's head to the right, and she cried out in surprise and pain.

'Louder!'

'Sir! Yes Sir! I was a journalist Sir.....ahhhhh!'

Another slap from the other direction and now 626 could taste blood.

'Try again!

'Sir! Yes Sir! I am a professional liar Sir!' The area rang with 626's voice, shouting out the words at the guard.

'Better....' The guard walked behind 626 now, running a hand down her back, tracing the weals that the whip had left from earlier.

'I hear you are special in another way.' The hand continued lower, cupping at 626's arse, and 626 couldn't suppress the shudder.

'Ahh yes, you are a masochistic whore, aren't you...'

626 dropped her head, but still shouted out loud 'Sir! Yes Sir! I am a masochistic whore, Sir!'

The guard laughed, her fingers reaching between 626's thighs and tracing along her cunt. 'Already wet...'

She kept the hand in place, massaging at 626's cunt. 'You are going to push this wheel on your own for two more hours, my little Yanqui whore, and if you slack at all, I will whip you, and we'll see if you are still this wet after that.'

-*-

The blonde swung the whip as 626 trudged past, expertly wrapping the end around her torso, breaking the skin across 626's ribs and leaving another hard, knotted weal across the underside of the breast. 626 threw her head back and let out a broken voiced howl, and stumbled, catching her footing just in time to stop her from falling.

There was no thought in 626's head except pushing through to the end, to whatever release she was going to get at the end. The whip had driven all other thoughts from her head.

The first whip strokes were hard, but judged to not break the skin, a series of blows that left 626's shoulders, upper back, arse and thighs and almost uniform pattern of stripes. Then, as 626 tired, the real strokes came down, opening up cut after cut, snaking around the leave cuts on her chest and stomach as well, leaving blood to mix with the sweat that was coating her.

Another stroke drove 626 to her knees, her scream echoing around the area, everything in darkness except for this wheel, her torture, lit by searchlights from a couple of nearby towers. The stroke has crossed her pierced right nipple, and for a moment, everything in her vision flashed bright white.

She felt, rather than saw, the guard removing the chains that held her to the bar, pushing 626 until she was lying on her back, feeling the sharp stones dig into the open cuts on her back. She felt her legs kicked apart, felt a hand at her cunt.

'¡Madre de Puta! You really are an absolute whore aren't you...!'

626 felt a whole hand push into her cunt, and she convulsed, reserves of strength pushing her hips and arse up off the ground to meet the fist, whilst unintelligible noises came from her wife open mouth.

Then, with a final scream that broke her voice, she came, squirting all up the guards arm, which continued to pump in and out of her cunt until mercifully, everything went black.
 
Put me on her place, whip me while I steer the wheel for all day. If I fall down chain me to the whipping post and give me 500 lashes with the metal barbed whip. Then make me carry my crossbeam and crusify me with real nails. On the cross Pierce my tits with hooks and hang weights. On the cross continue whipping me till I faint. Let me on the cross three days drinking piss and eating semen
 
slv said:
Put me on her place, whip me while I steer the wheel for all day. If I fall down chain me to the whipping post and give me 500 lashes with the metal barbed whip. Then make me carry my crossbeam and crusify me with real nails. On the cross Pierce my tits with hooks and hang weights. On the cross continue whipping me till I faint. Let me on the cross three days drinking piss and eating semen
Click to expand...
Oh, the thoughts that provokes...
 
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Chapter 5

The jungle rain woke 626, a tropical downpour that came from out of nowhere, and pulled her out of the state of unconsciousness she had fallen into. She tried to move, but then realized that she was chained to one of the frames outside of the prisoner compound. She was on all fours, her ankles spread wide behind her, additional chains just below her knees keeping her hips as open as possible. Her wrists were chained the same, and her head was held in place by chains fastened to her collar.

'Fuck...' she whispered hoarsely, as the pain washed back over her. She couldn't turn around, but she reckoned her back and arse must look like hamburger. Still, the warm rain was helping to wash her clean, the water dripping from her torso a pale pink from the dried blood it was rinsing from her.

She had no idea how she got to be here. The blonde guard must have dragged or carried her here, then chained her in place. She looked left and right, but the other prisoners being punished were too far away to whisper to.

She lolled in her bonds, trying to breathe, to meditate, anything to take away the fire like pain she was in, waiting for dawn, when the prisoners in the compound would inevitably go past her on the way to the workings below.

It wasn't too long before she could hear the steady tramp on the guards changing shifts, and the guards for the mine taking up positions near the compound, ready to escort the prisoners down for the day. She dropped her head as the blonde went past, not ready to face her again right now.

-*-

She must have dozed, or passed out, as she didn't see the prisoners match past to go to the mine. She could hear a voice, gentle, saying her real name.

'Jay, oh madre de dios que te han hecho?'

She felt a hand on her cheek, and opened her eyes.

Ana.

Ana was in front of her, her Ana, knelt on the ground, cupping Jay's face with one hand, holding a wet cloth in the other. Ana was shaved just like her, collared as well, but she wore no cuffs at wrist or ankle. There was a rope around her waist, from which hung a brief loin cloth.

'Ana?' Jay's voice was a hoarse, gravelly whisper. She hadn't seen Ana since this whole ordeal had started, hadn't seen her lover since the Gomez had shown Ana, whipped and broken, on the tablet. Her vision started to swim, as tears welled up in her eyes.

'Shhhh, mi amor... I am here to clean your wounds. I am not meant to speak to you. For now, I am just another prisoner.'

Ana moved around Jay, grabbing the bucket that was by her side, and started to clean Jay up, gently using the wet cloth to wash her wounds. Despite her gentleness, Jay was soon hissing in pain again, causing Ana to whisper 'I'm sorry Jay.'

Finally, she used the cloth to clean Jay's face, washing away the dirt and tears, before she made to turn away. She paused, then lent in close. 'Stay strong, mi amor. They will use you before they release you, but they will release you, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. I will find you once they do.'

Then she turned away. As she did, Jay could see the work of a branding iron that had been applied to Ana's right shoulder blade, a brand that simply said 'Confiable'

Trusted? What the hell had happened to Ana that led to here?
 
Chapter 6

She felt the cock in her cunt spasm, then felt him pull out and spray his come across her arse and back, adding to the copious amounts that was already there.

It was such a little phrase Ana had used. 'They will use you..'

They were certainly using her. She had lost track of the number of guards she had serviced up to now. Her face was a mix of come and spit, left over from those if the guards that fucked her face. Other make guards wanted to use her other holes, either pulling out to spurt across her back, or who came inside her, their seed now oozing from her arsehole and cunt.

If anything, the female guards were the worst. Her throat and jaw ached because one female had used her night stick, forcing it 626's mouth until she gagged, holding it there until her lungs burnt from the need for oxygen. Other female guards used their sticks on her cunt, or in her arse.

All of this had the inevitable effect on 626. She had come multiple times herself, and was only the chains to her collar kept her from falling face first to the ground below on a number of occasions. As it was she was still trying to support herself on arms and legs that felt like rubber, knowing that she would end up choking herself on the collar if she totally collapsed.

Her head was hanging low when she heard multiple sets of boots approach on the stony ground. This was the point she was dreading, when they got bored of using her in singles, and instead switched to using her in pairs.

'I've been watching you, Puta...'

The female guard, the blonde, crouched down in front of 626, and held her jaw in her hand, steering 626's gaze to the guard's face.

'Watching, and reading... Who would have imagined it... A Yanqui, a journalist, here in my camp. She turned her head, nodding at another female guard, who strode around 626 until she was behind the prisoner.

626 felt fingers at her cunt, spreading her wide, forcing into her, until, with a cry from 626, the whole hand slipped inside.

The blonde reached into a large webbing pouch that hung from her belt, pulling out a huge dildo, a good 10" long and a good 2" wide, moulded with a huge glans on the end.

'I should introduce myself, mi masoquista.' The guard pressed on the hinges of 626's jaw, forcing it open. She used the opportunity provided to force the dildo between 626's lips.

Another nod and the guard started to pump her entire fist in 626's cunt, while the dildo on her mouth started to thrust in and out, making 626 gag on the size and length of it'

'My name in Rivera, and you and I are are going to have so much fun together...'
 
Chapter 7

'Be ready, this is going to sting'

Jay grabbed a handful of the straw filled mattress she was lying on, and gritted her teeth, whilst Ana finished mixing up something in an old cracked bowl.

She felt Ana start to rub a viscous liquid onto the whip cuts on her back, and she couldn't help but let out a sharp hiss of breath.

'Ahh, you aren't kidding about that......'

Ana paid no heed, continuing to apply the liquid, and Jay felt the wounds grow cool and stop hurting.

She had no idea how long she had suffered at the hands of Rivera. The double assault on her body was something she had be subjected to before, and like before, the degradation and pain drove her to orgasm after orgasm until she had almost passed out.

She had felt herself be dragged into the encampment, roughly dropped onto the dirty mattress she was still lying on. It was only when gentle hands, Ana's hands, had trickles water into her mouth that Jay had come out of the trance state she was in, too exhausted even to cry.

She raised herself on one elbow, so she could lie on her side. The mattress was one of a handful on the ground underneath one of the open sides structures. From what she could see, it was the only set of mattresses I'm the whole enclosure.

'Ana, what happened to you?'

Ana looked around, then sat down by Jay, her back to one of the corner supports.

'They took me from the street, tortured me until I 'confessed'. I tried not to talk,, but they knew everything, about how I could contact the rebels, about...about you and I...'

She paused a moment, wiped a tear from her cheek.

'After that, I was sent to a prison farm. They used us as pack animals, and to pull the plough. A few prisoners tried to escape, and I tried to help cover it up, but they caught them, and shot them all. They tortured me again after that, then sent me here.'

Jay nodded, then told Ana of her own ordeals, and how the sadistic punishments she had been put through had awoken something dark inside her.

Ana frowned. 'Stay away from Rivera. She is a sádica.'

There was a pause, then Jay asked the question that had been on her mind for a while.

'Ana, you wear less irons than other prisoners... and your shoulder....it says confiable. What does that mean?'

'It turns out they were right about me. I am a whore. I give myself to the guards, and so I do not dig. Most guards have a pet in the prisoners. In my case, I was able to get privileges, and I am the médica for the prisoners......' she leaned in close. 'You need to do the same Jay...'
 
Chapter 8

'Move, you lazy cunts! You're lucky we feed you at all!'

626 shuffled along in a line of prisoners, all of whom bore the signs of very recent hard treatment.

'If it was my choice, if you didn't work, then you wouldn't get fed!' roared the guard escoring them to the front of the enclosure.

626 kept her head down, looking straight on, not willing to give the guard any excuse to pull her from the line, and not allow her to eat.

It was getting towards the end of the day, and, despite the herbal remedy Ana had applied, 626 was still in pain, but she was also starving. She didn't know exactly when she had last eaten, but it was certainly before she had entered this camp.

The line reached a pair of carts. These were loaded with battered metal drums, and a pair of trusted prisoners were stood on each. From the gleam of sweat on each of them, they must have pulled the carts here themselves. The trustees reached into the barrels as 626 was led past them, passing down a hunk of cold meat, a piece of fruit, and a chunk of stale bread.

626 grabbed them, then followed the line of prisoners off to one side, where they sat or squatted, each preoccupied in eating their meagre rations. 626 bit into the bread, unsurprised when she felt the weevils inside cut in half with her teeth.

As she finished her meal, the prisoners from the mine workings entered the compound, shuffling past the carts and getting their own food, before they split off and wandered to spots where they themselves could eat and then collapse after their day digging and processing.

The carts were pulled out of the compound as the last of the prisoners were fed, and the guards all left the compound, pulling the gate closed behind them. 626 noticed that the trustees didn't renter the camp, but instead were kneeling outside, whilst guards circled them predatorially.

As the sun set, 626 tried to find a spot away from the watch towers, from where searchlights were already being played across the compound. She settled into a slight hollow in the ground, enough that she had something to rest her head on. It was then she saw them, prisoners, in singles or pairs, approach the bases of the towers and kneel. She saw the loin cloths that marked some of these prisoners as trustees, but she saw others who were as naked as she was.

At each tower, the searchlight swept down to light up the kneeling prisoners, before a ladder was lowered from the tower and the girls climbed up. She turned away and closed her eyes as she saw Ana at the base of one tower, understanding now what she had said earlier today.

She finally slept, whilst the thought of doing the same as these other prisoners buzzed around her head

-*-

She was woken at some point in the night, by someone putting something in her hand. A small piece of chocolate. She sat up, catching a glimpse of someone in a trustee's loincloth carefully stepping away. Ana.

626 put the piece into her mouth, and tried not to think about what Ana had to have done to get such a thing.
 
Chapter 9

626 sank to her knees almost as soon as she had received her rations for the evening. She was starving, and what she had held in her hands would barely stop the gnawing feeling from her stomach.

She had been back at work in the mine for a week now. She hadn't been put back on the crusher. Instead, she had joined a team of prisoners working to carry dig out material from the work face up to the crusher itself.

She had spent her days with a wicker basket on her back, sweating as she laboured to carry load after load of rough hewn rock up the slope, her only respite being the period where she had to kneel whilst the basket was loaded.

There were three straps to each basket, all of them rough hemp rope. Two went across her shoulders, like the straps of a backpack. The other strap was for balance, and ran from the outside of the basket and up over the crown of her head. At least this is what it was designed to do. Inevitably though, as each day went on and the prisoners fell behind their unachievable target for the day, it was fed though their mouths and pulled tight, forcing their mouths open.

She rubbed at her jaw and the edges of her mouth. Rivera had been on duty with the basket teams today, and she had taken a particular delight in pulling this rope so tight that 626 ended up almost looking straight up at the sky.

For three straight days, 626 had been carrying a full load of rock as the day came to an end, which meant she had to unload the rock at the crusher, take the basket back down the slope, and only then pass through the showers and back into the camp. This left her in the last set of prisoners to be fed, and so she was left with scraps of food, even less than the meagre rations of the rest of the prisoners.

She had to get more to eat, and there was only one way that could happen.

-*-

The sun didn't so much set as disappear behind menacing looking clouds, and soon it was raining, as if she needed any more encouragement to do what she knew she would have to do.

She looked around as those prisoners who were approaching the towers, and decided she would go for a tower by the main gate, at which there was a single prisoner already kneeling, wearing the loincloth of a trusty.

626 crossed the open space quickly, and adopted the same pose as the other girl, knelt on the ground, head bowed, and her legs open. She hadn't been there long when they were fixed in the beam of a searchlight from the next tower over, and she said a silent prayer that the guards would be generous in what they gave her for what she was about to do.

She started as she heard something clatter against the side of the tower legs, but relaxed as she heard the prisoner next door whisper 'Bueno..' She looked up, and saw the rope ladder within reach, the trustee already starting to climb. She stood, feeling the rain wash the mud from her legs where she had been kneeling, and started after her.

-*-

The rain had stopped by the time 626 dropped from the end of the ladder, and crossed the compound to find a quiet space.

She squatted on the damp ground, and opened her right hand, which had been tightly closed around a lump of cheese and a hunk of chorizo. She swallowed, clearing her mouth of the saliva that filled it, the taste of semen disappearing as she did.

She took a bite of the cheese, savouring the taste, knowing that in her hungry state she needed to eat slowly to avoid making herself throw up. She felt a moment of shame, a moment of disgust at how she had eagerly sucked the cocks of the three guards in the tower in turn, but she tamped it down. She knew she had to survive, and if this was how, she would do it.

Besides, she told herself, there has been much worse done to her in the past. If she needed to let a few guards fuck her, then so be it.

She popped the chorizo into her mouth, and laid back to sleep.
 
Chapter 10

626 dropped to her knees and gulped in air whilst she waited for another prisoner to fill the empty basket on her back, her sweat slick chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

The guards must have been given orders to increase production, as they were constantly pushing the prisoners to run, even with the baskets full, liberally using whips and cattle prods on any prisoners that faltered in any way.

It has been that way now for a week, and 626 knew that if she hadn't started to give herself to the guards, she wouldn't have made it. A couple of unfortunates had already dropped today, and had been unceremoniously dragged to newly erected whipping posts set up by the start of the track up to the crushers and flogged, their semi conscious forms left hanging as a reminder of what would happen to slacking prisoners.

She felt the next load of rocks get dumped into the basket, and was already struggling to her feet, keeping the guard from using the prod on her. She starting walking, the lead prisoner in a snake of suffering, towards to crushers again.

She could feel the aches in her limbs, and in particular, in her hips and upper thighs. The last three nights, the guards had started to tie her to a rectangular table spreading her legs wide by tying her ankles to the legs on the long side, and her arms to the tops of the legs on the other side, forcing her chest onto the rough wood of the tabletop. Held wide open, the guards used her turn and turn about, first her mouth, then her cunt, until each guard had come in her at least twice.

Last night there had been a couple of additional guards in the tower, and so 626 had been tied in place and used for even longer. Oddly, she had noticed the trusty had not been abused by any of the guards except for one of the newcomers, who had removed the other prisoners loincloth, and then replaced it with another before the end of the night. The trusty had even been allowed to sip at the wine bottle that had been on the table before 626 had been tied across it.

As she trudged up the slope, she wondered if the other prisoner had reached some accommodation with that one guard, given herself solely to that one for some protection from the others.

She must have faltered as she thought, as the whip crashed down around her upper thighs, and she cried out, pushing all thoughts of the night aside.

-*-

She had thought of not going to the tower, but she had once again been caught with a full pack of rock as the day ended, and so had received short rations, after one of the hardest days she had known at the camp.

So, she had climbed the rope ladder willingly, if stiffly, and had submitted to being tied across the table once more.

She had already swallowed one load of come when there was a sudden commotion from the ladder leading up to the tower from outside the fences. 626 tried to crane her head round as she heard a rapid fusilade of Spanish, angry and accusing. The trusty crossed into her view, and shrank down in the corner of the tower babbling '¡Él me obligó a hacerlo! ¡Dijo que me mataría si no lo hacía!'

Two shots rang out, loud in 626's ears, and 626 felt the splash of hot liquid across her back, and she knew it could only have been blood. Another shot, and the trusty spasmed once before she slumped to the floor, an ever widening pool of red forming a halo around her head.

626's thoughts were a whirl. What the fuck was going on? What the fuck had the trusty been doing with that guard.

Then all the thoughts were replaced by fear, as Rivera's face came into view. 'Hello, whore...'

Rivera nodded at someone, then 626 felt a sharp blow on the back of her skull, and everything went black.
 
Chapter 11

Something had happened in the camp, something bad. All the prisoners knew it, and Ana was particularly aware of the tension in the air.

Two nights ago, Ana, along with most of the camp had been woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of gunshots, from the front of the camp, and any who had not been woken up by that noise were woken up by the sweep of the camp that followed, all the prisoners herded into one corner by sub machine gun toting guards, whilst the mattresses in Ana's makeshift infirmary were torn to shreds, and while any remotely suspicious patch of earth was probed and dug over.

The next day, the camp was split in two, with half staying behind, with the rest, including all the trusties,, were sent down to the quarry. Ana herself ended up at the sifters, which left her coated in a slurry of sweat and dust. It seemed that all of the guards were on edge, so any mistake or slacking in the pace of work were met with liberal use of the whip.

Ana kept her head down, trying to keep a steady pace that kept the whip off her back, but couldn't help slowing when a squad of heavily armed guards, led by Rivera, marched into the deeper levels of the quarry, then came back sometime later, surrounding a small group of both prisoners and other guards, all of them in chains, all of them looking like they had been beaten.

After a long, hard day of work, Ana trudged wearily up to the camp in the column of prisoners, expecting to see the usual enclosure. Instead, the whole camp had been leveled. There were no huts at all, and the camp had another circle of razor wire in place, on the inside, keeping the prisoners away from the guard towers.

They were barely fed that night, each of them handed a lump of weevil infested bread, and then the prisoners were left to sleep as well they could, as searchlights crossed the compound with tiresome regularity.

The next morning saw more of the same treatment. Again, the workforce was split into two, and again, all the trusties were sent down to work in the quarry. From where Ana was working at the sifters, she could see a frame work of wood or bamboo being constructed in the level above, in the punishment area outside the prisoner compound. At some point, Ana faltered as a scream of pain came from above, and she looked up, seeing now that someone was now occupying the frame, suspended with outstretched arms, someone obviously being tortured in some way Ana knew she didn't want to experience herself.

It was mid afternoon when she was stopped at her work by a guard, who pulled her away from the shifter and had her join a column of prisoners, all wearing the now dirty loincloths of a trusty. A guard performed a head count, and then they were being marched up the incline to the compound, and Ana hoped that whatever had happened had been dealt with, that she could go back to the relatively easy life of the camp nurse, such as she was.

They never reached the compound. Instead, they were halted in the punishment area, lined up in a double rank opposite the frame, which was now flanked by a series of whipping posts, each of which were occupied by a prisoner showing the signs of a savage whipping.

Rivera was there, in front of the poor unfortunate in the frame, and she started to harangue the trusties, how they had betrayed their trust, how some of them had conspired with traitor scum guards to snuggle gems from the quarry.

Ana was barely listening. All she could hear was the ever louder beating of her heart in her chest, as she stated at the prisoner in the frame... Jay.

She was hanging by her arms, which were pulled out to the corners of the frame by rough hemp ropes. More ropes looped around her knees, pulling them up well, holding her legs up and to the sides, in what must have been an agonizing split. Another rope was in a noise around her neck, which made Jay have to pull on the ropes with her hands in order to prevent it from strangling her.

Ana could feel the tears on her face, as Jay struggled in the predicament. She was soaked with sweat, her muscles standing out in sharp relief, her torso and legs criss crossed by the marks of a through whipping.
As Rivera stood to one side, Ana saw the final part of the torture. A wooden pole was dangling from Jay's cunt. As long as Jay kept herself pulled up, the end of this was held off the ground, but as soon as her arms gave way, it would touch the ground and transmit all her weight into her cunt. Ana watched as this happened, Jay grunting as she lowered herself as slowly as possible, until the pole touched the ground. Ana could see it was all designed so that the rope around Jay's neck would make it hard, but not impossible, for Jay to breathe, as the pole was just long enough to stop this from happening, but at the cost of what agony?

A shouted order from Rivera brought Ana's attention back to what was being said.

'There will be no more trusted prisoners, there will be no more loin cloths. As of now, you are all the same....scum. You will work until you drop, and then do it again the next day.'

'Any infraction will be treated with extreme measures!'

Rivera turned to the guards. 'Strip these whores, then march them down to the quarry again. I want them working through the night!'

Rivera stared at the firmer trusties, as the guards tore the loincloths from them, then turned to Jay as the guards started to match the column away.
 
Chapter 12

626 stirred as she felt fingers tracing along her obscenely spread inner thigh, almost like a lover's caress, stroking her, until the fingers reached her cunt lips, held open by the wooden pole that was buried inside her.

Rivera's fingers.

She had no idea how she got from the tower to where she woke up, at some point the day before. The first thing she knew was the force of a spray of ice cold water, shocking her awake. Confused, she tried to curl up, get away from the spray, but then realized that she was hanging from her wrists, her feet just touching the floor beneath her.

Then came the questions. 'How did you smuggle material from the quarry? Which guards were your contacts? Which other prisoners were part of the operation?'

She had no answers, and begged, pleaded that she didn't know, she was just trying to get more food, that she didn't know how it was done. They didn't believe her.

They whipped her first, a guard uncoiling a long single tail which he used to devastating effect, until she was covered in angry red weals, trails of blood running down her front where some of the strokes had opened up her skin.

Maybe she fainted, maybe the treatment drove her mind into that place where pain and pleasure became synonymous, but she was brought back by another spray of icy water.

'How did you smuggle material from the quarry? Which guards were your contacts? Which other prisoners were part of the operation?'

The same questions, the same answers, She didn't know, she wasn't part of whatever was going on, she was just a whore....

They placed clips on her nipples, on her clit, which made her cry out. Then they wired the clips to a hand cranked generator. She jerked and spasmed as the electricity flowed into her, crying and screaming. The guards were asking the same questions, over and over, shouting them at her, but she couldn't even answer now, the shocks driving her until she exploded in orgasm, her bladder letting go at the same time.

She vaguely remembered being released from her suspension, being dragged along rough cement floors. They sat her in a chair, locking her wrists to an eye bolt in a table in front of her. Bright lights shone in her face, and she needed to screw her eyes up. She could smell cigarette smoke, could see a shadow behind the lights.

'You really don't know anything, do you whore?' Rivera's voice drifted across the table. We know that. One of the guards in the tower told us everything.'

626 heard a chair scrape on the floor, and Rivera walked around the table, leaning her self against it on 626's right.

'You were just a little added bonus when they picked up the goods, a Yanqui whore to play with....'

She felt something pressed to her lips, the cigarette, and despite the fact that she hadn't smoked since college, 626 drew on it, feeling the warmth of the smoke in her mouth and throat.

Rivera pulled the cigarette away, pulled on it herself. 'Tomorrow, I will make an example of you, to make sure the rest of the prisoners know that there is no escape, no way out...' She reached out with a hand, cupping 626's chin, turning her head so Rivera could look into 626's face.

'It's one of the last things I will do here. My superiors are very happy with my actions here, I am being promoted.' She lit another cigarette from the half burnt out one she had in her other hand, then ground out the first on the table.

'I never had a pet as a child. Not a real one. Perhaps I should take you with me as a pet.'

Rivera took a couple of quick drags on the cigarette, then held the glowing end a few millimeters from 626's right nipple, watching 626's breathing grow shallow, the increas d tension in the muscles of her stomach.

626 felt a hand snake between her legs, felt fingers at her cunt, and she saw with absolute clarity what was about to happen.

'Are you going to be my pet whore, Yanqui?'

626 opened her legs, steeling herself for what was about to happen. There was a moment if silence, and then she screamed, as Rivera touched the glowing end of the cigarette against her clit.

-*-

Rivera looked up at the tortured form in front of her, and marvelled at what she saw.

The Yanqui had hung from the frame for a whole day now. Other rebels that had passed through her hands would have been begging for release, for death even, but she had never come across a puta like this one.

She ran her fingers along a sweat slick inner thigh, seeing the intake of breath as her touch reached 626's cunt, the labia split by the pole that was buried in her cunt. She flicked at the nail heads that had been hammered through 626's cunt, and into the wood, to hold it in place, remembering the screams that 626 had released as that had been done.

The prisoners that had just seen 626 hanging here would only see the agony, the pain, the horror of what had been done to 626.

She moved her hand up a little, teasing at the rock hard pebble of 626's clit. Only she could see the trickle of juices that ran down the shaft of the pole. Only she could see the ripple of the muscles in 626's torso, hear the change in the breathing pattern as the Yanqui inched toward an orgasm driven by that pain.

'I'm going to have so much fun with you...'

She turned, seeing a pair of guards waiting patiently behind her.

'Leave her up there as an example for the returning prisoners, then have her caged for transport. She leaves with me in the morning.'
 
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