Lace
Assistant executioner
Thank you Catonine. Fossy tells me you and he are also colluding? Sounds very exciting xGreat job, Lacey-baby.... great job!
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Sexpionage III
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
catOnine
Executioner
Yes, we already had a little collaboration together, which led us to https://www.cruxforums.com/xf/resources/beirut-bombshell-a-sexpionage-spin-off-by-fossy.918/
For now, Fossy is working on something with me - Cat - as a character. But psssst.... it´s still a secret...
One more backgrounder for this great story:
Stockholm’s Grand Hotel, built in 1874, is iconic, set on the waterfront facing the old city island (Gamla stan) and the royal palace. Owned by the wealthy Wallenberg family, the Nobel Prize laureates and their families have traditionally been guests at the hotel, as well as celebrities and world leaders. Room prices run around $600 a night.
Stockholm’s Grand Hotel, built in 1874, is iconic, set on the waterfront facing the old city island (Gamla stan) and the royal palace. Owned by the wealthy Wallenberg family, the Nobel Prize laureates and their families have traditionally been guests at the hotel, as well as celebrities and world leaders. Room prices run around $600 a night.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
There are dungeons wherever you want to find them Shark my friend ...
Sharkman
Governor
Sharkman
Governor
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/London_Dungeon
@Fossy, I know you are one of the best writers of female agent stories but I am tensed how you will get it all in Sexspionage III?
"19 shows, 20 actors and 2 rides ... a journey through 1000 years of London's history where they meet actors performing as some of London's most infamous characters, including Jack the Ripper and Sweeney Todd. The Dungeon's shows are staged on theatrical sets with special effects. The show incorporates events such as the Black Death and the Gunpowder Plot, and includes characters such as "The Torturer", "The Plague Doctor", and "The Judge". Guests are encouraged to participate in the shows. The experience also includes a "drop ride to doom", a free-fall ride staged as a public hanging."
Last edited:
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Bared for All (1)
Safe-House on the small Archipelago Island of Djurgarden, Stockholm, Sweden.
The Anglo-Swedish Society is an organisation based in London which is primarily focused on the Arts and it organises unique cultural events supporting both the UK and Sweden. However, in the aftermath of both World Wars, despite the Scandinavian country’s neutrality, the Society played a more tangible part in helping the cause of individuals from either side to survive their harrowing predicaments. Part of this was a number of ‘safe houses’ dotted around the major cities of Stockholm, Malmo and Gothenburg. It was in one of these houses that Agent Lacey Anderson, with the little luggage she had still stuck at the Stockholm Inn, having handed Lars Karlsson over to her colleagues in order for him to be transported safely to London, was instructed to stay for 72 hours, before she too would be exfiltrated home.
******
She had walked around for an hour or two after the handover had taken place in Djurgarden, a small tree covered island located close to the city centre, which was also where the small shack-like apartment was. Lacey used a bobble tie from her purse to tie her long blonde hair into a pony tail, before taking out her phone. She swiped through the settings until she found the factory reset and wiped it. Taking one more glance in the mirror she exited the bathroom, before moving outside and walking the few metres to the water’s edge. The MI6 Agent then pitched the phone into the sea and quickly returned indoors.
Despite its idyllic surroundings, the small wooden house was an unassuming building. An old wooden door with a huge iron key was all that would keep her safe for the next few days. But Kruger wouldn’t be looking here, would he?
Lacey had asked why she too could not be taken home with Karlsson and his retinue, and the answer given made her realise that remaining in the ‘line of fire’ so to speak, was nothing to do with keeping her safe, and everything to do with making sure the attention was turned away from Lars Karlsson. So, whilst Agent Anderson hoped that the next 72 hours would be event-free, she also knew that she was bait to keep Kruger and whoever was backing him, away from their main man.
She made her way into the small living space. Letting the door close behind her, Lacey parked herself on a kitchen stool, finally allowing herself to catch her breath – she felt exhausted.
The apartment was unassuming - one bedroom, furnished with a couch, a drop-leaf table and a couple of chairs and a shelf of books. No network of any sort was routed to the small building. Lacey’s only instruction was to look out for contact from HQ at any time once the 72 hours time period was over. She got up to check the other rooms - kitchen, with basic supplies in it, a sparsely furnished bedroom, a bathroom. The windows had white curtains drawn over them that she didn't dare pull back.
It was the smash of glass a few hours later that caused Lacey's eyes to ping open. The Agent was immediately put on her guard and realised that her Glock was in her purse which she had left on the table in the living room.
“Fuck,” she whispered. It was the last word she spoke as she felt a small, sharp prick in her neck and everything around her faded away.
A small unused warehouse in Enkoping, approximately 79 kilometres outside Stockholm
Lacey came to slowly, grogginess pulling at her eyes as she opened them. It took her a minute to place the events of the day - was it the same day? It could have been the next day - there was no telling how long the drug infused injection could have left her unconscious.
Alertness came back to her at length, allowing Lacey to take in her surroundings. From the hard nature of the surface beneath her and the layout of the room that she could see, she figured that she was on some kind of table. Her arms were above her head and stuck there … so she was tied down. There was another strap holding her forehead in place, and she could feel others at her chest, waist, hips, and at intervals along each of her legs. She could tell that they were spread, and she could feel the still air of the room pressing against her. She experimented with moving, testing the bonds, but they held her almost completely still.
She was naked … open and exposed.
Fuck.
Agent Anderson’s heart thumped in her chest, in fear mainly. She moved her eyes as much as she could and made out that there was a kind of counter that ran along three sides of the room, adorned with a variety of cabinets. She couldn't make out any objects on the counter except for a dispenser of liquid soap and a box of gloves next to a steel sink. She looked down her nose at the door, a simple swing door with a lever handle. Next to it was a large rectangle of glass.
On the other side of the glass, Kruger was peering in at her, his expression inscrutable.
When their eyes met, he nodded his head, just the slightest bit, in acknowledgement. She felt something well inside her chest that made her want to scream, but she swallowed it back. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
The door swung open and he stepped inside. Lacey tried not to think about the view she displayed to his gaze. He was dressed casually, in blue denim jeans and a white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his belted waist band.
“Well, well, Miss Anderson we meet again.” His accent grated on her.
Without ceremony he brought his open palm down hard against the bare skin on her left inner thigh. Lacey held still, trying not to react as the stinging pain shot through her taking the bound girl by surprise.
Don't react, came the words inside her head. Don't say anything. Don't give him what he wants.
"No response?" he said. His voice was soft. She measured her breathing. He brought his hand down again in the same spot, only harder this time. It stung and Lacey felt her leg automatically tense and then relax, catching her breath as the sharp slap faded into a gentle sting. She wasn't going to underestimate him, and she knew he wanted information about Karlsson and where he had been taken, but she was going to do her best to stick to her training and give him as little as she could.
He hit her a third time … even harder. A fourth, a fifth, in the same spot. On the sixth she groaned.
“That’s more like it you little bitch, now we can really get down to business!”
To Be Continued …
Safe-House on the small Archipelago Island of Djurgarden, Stockholm, Sweden.
The Anglo-Swedish Society is an organisation based in London which is primarily focused on the Arts and it organises unique cultural events supporting both the UK and Sweden. However, in the aftermath of both World Wars, despite the Scandinavian country’s neutrality, the Society played a more tangible part in helping the cause of individuals from either side to survive their harrowing predicaments. Part of this was a number of ‘safe houses’ dotted around the major cities of Stockholm, Malmo and Gothenburg. It was in one of these houses that Agent Lacey Anderson, with the little luggage she had still stuck at the Stockholm Inn, having handed Lars Karlsson over to her colleagues in order for him to be transported safely to London, was instructed to stay for 72 hours, before she too would be exfiltrated home.
******
She had walked around for an hour or two after the handover had taken place in Djurgarden, a small tree covered island located close to the city centre, which was also where the small shack-like apartment was. Lacey used a bobble tie from her purse to tie her long blonde hair into a pony tail, before taking out her phone. She swiped through the settings until she found the factory reset and wiped it. Taking one more glance in the mirror she exited the bathroom, before moving outside and walking the few metres to the water’s edge. The MI6 Agent then pitched the phone into the sea and quickly returned indoors.
Despite its idyllic surroundings, the small wooden house was an unassuming building. An old wooden door with a huge iron key was all that would keep her safe for the next few days. But Kruger wouldn’t be looking here, would he?
Lacey had asked why she too could not be taken home with Karlsson and his retinue, and the answer given made her realise that remaining in the ‘line of fire’ so to speak, was nothing to do with keeping her safe, and everything to do with making sure the attention was turned away from Lars Karlsson. So, whilst Agent Anderson hoped that the next 72 hours would be event-free, she also knew that she was bait to keep Kruger and whoever was backing him, away from their main man.
She made her way into the small living space. Letting the door close behind her, Lacey parked herself on a kitchen stool, finally allowing herself to catch her breath – she felt exhausted.
The apartment was unassuming - one bedroom, furnished with a couch, a drop-leaf table and a couple of chairs and a shelf of books. No network of any sort was routed to the small building. Lacey’s only instruction was to look out for contact from HQ at any time once the 72 hours time period was over. She got up to check the other rooms - kitchen, with basic supplies in it, a sparsely furnished bedroom, a bathroom. The windows had white curtains drawn over them that she didn't dare pull back.
It was the smash of glass a few hours later that caused Lacey's eyes to ping open. The Agent was immediately put on her guard and realised that her Glock was in her purse which she had left on the table in the living room.
“Fuck,” she whispered. It was the last word she spoke as she felt a small, sharp prick in her neck and everything around her faded away.
A small unused warehouse in Enkoping, approximately 79 kilometres outside Stockholm
Lacey came to slowly, grogginess pulling at her eyes as she opened them. It took her a minute to place the events of the day - was it the same day? It could have been the next day - there was no telling how long the drug infused injection could have left her unconscious.
Alertness came back to her at length, allowing Lacey to take in her surroundings. From the hard nature of the surface beneath her and the layout of the room that she could see, she figured that she was on some kind of table. Her arms were above her head and stuck there … so she was tied down. There was another strap holding her forehead in place, and she could feel others at her chest, waist, hips, and at intervals along each of her legs. She could tell that they were spread, and she could feel the still air of the room pressing against her. She experimented with moving, testing the bonds, but they held her almost completely still.
She was naked … open and exposed.
Fuck.
Agent Anderson’s heart thumped in her chest, in fear mainly. She moved her eyes as much as she could and made out that there was a kind of counter that ran along three sides of the room, adorned with a variety of cabinets. She couldn't make out any objects on the counter except for a dispenser of liquid soap and a box of gloves next to a steel sink. She looked down her nose at the door, a simple swing door with a lever handle. Next to it was a large rectangle of glass.
On the other side of the glass, Kruger was peering in at her, his expression inscrutable.
When their eyes met, he nodded his head, just the slightest bit, in acknowledgement. She felt something well inside her chest that made her want to scream, but she swallowed it back. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
The door swung open and he stepped inside. Lacey tried not to think about the view she displayed to his gaze. He was dressed casually, in blue denim jeans and a white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his belted waist band.
“Well, well, Miss Anderson we meet again.” His accent grated on her.
Without ceremony he brought his open palm down hard against the bare skin on her left inner thigh. Lacey held still, trying not to react as the stinging pain shot through her taking the bound girl by surprise.
Don't react, came the words inside her head. Don't say anything. Don't give him what he wants.
"No response?" he said. His voice was soft. She measured her breathing. He brought his hand down again in the same spot, only harder this time. It stung and Lacey felt her leg automatically tense and then relax, catching her breath as the sharp slap faded into a gentle sting. She wasn't going to underestimate him, and she knew he wanted information about Karlsson and where he had been taken, but she was going to do her best to stick to her training and give him as little as she could.
He hit her a third time … even harder. A fourth, a fifth, in the same spot. On the sixth she groaned.
“That’s more like it you little bitch, now we can really get down to business!”
To Be Continued …
I’m beginning to think that those bastards back at Mi6 are thinking of Lacey as a dispensable asset. It’s all part of the plan. Leave her behind in Sweden to distract Kruger, which in order to be successful means that she should be accessible to him. So they probably had him tipped off as to her whereabouts, knowing full well that he’d probably kill her before he was through with her.
But as I said, in the eyes of those bastards back at Mi6 she’s expendable…a mere pawn to be sacrificed on the chess board in order for the main gambit to succeed.
They really are a bunch of bastards, aren’t they?
But as I said, in the eyes of those bastards back at Mi6 she’s expendable…a mere pawn to be sacrificed on the chess board in order for the main gambit to succeed.
They really are a bunch of bastards, aren’t they?
Sharkman
Governor
'No.' As 'Dr. No (1962)' nicely said.
Oh ffs @Lace , didn’t that first encounter teach you anything? Always keep it in reach, sleep with it in your hand…. Blimey did they forget about this in training? Typical MI6 Sexpionage training - more concerned with sexual prowess than simple spy craft? “Never Say Never Again”!
Lace
Assistant executioner
We didn't sign up for easy Mister Sharkman but I have to admit that right now Kruger seems to have me where he wants me
Lace
Assistant executioner
Yes Barbara I am beginning to agree
Did anyone else think @Fossy was going to allow one of his Sexpionage girls the luxury of a quick 'mission accomplished'?
Sharkman
Governor
Miss Lace, that's the right train of thought. I am sure there are two or three here just cannot wait if Kruger is a that kind of nice, smart guy we met the episodes before.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Bared for All (2)
A small unused warehouse in Enkoping, approximately 79 kilometres outside Stockholm
Kruger leaned over and looked into Lacey’s eyes. She thought about closing them and trying to dissociate, but she'd need to save that trick for when it was really needed. Instead, she stared back, feeling the pounding in her chest and the uneven cadence of her breath. He raised his hand dramatically and brought it down, letting her tense before stopping just short of her skin.
Much to his malevolent and sadistic amusement, Agent Anderson flinched.
He did it again, stopping just before contact, letting her see the start of the amused smile play on his lips as he relished her reaction. More hatred rose in her chest as he brought his hand down hard against her thigh again, and before her brain could analyse the stinging pain, he slapped her hard across the face. She gasped at that, breath breaking free from her lungs, which he took as an invitation to slap her between her legs … the unexpected, sharp pain in such a sensitive place caused Lacey to cry out.
He built up a rhythm like this - sometimes faking, sometimes making contact with her flesh, in the same spots, over and over but with no particular pattern. On occasion he made repeated contact with her body, hitting her left thigh in quick succession, her face, her other thigh, between her legs, across her breasts …
Lacey could feel her nipples tightening in response to the pain, and he moved his attention to her breasts, making her flinch with anticipation from contact that never came before slapping hard against her nipples, occasionally alternating breasts and sometimes staying repeatedly on one. He returned his hand to between her legs and slapped her bare mound, hard, once, twice, three times, four, repeating the random pattern of sporadically making contact … or not.
Lacey writhed and squirmed in her futile attempts to get free. The rhythm of the beating stung to the point of it becoming unbearable. Her body throbbed and left her chest heaving with ragged undulation. Her pussy burned and stung, tingling pins and needles in her flesh. Then he brought has open palm down again and the scream that Lacey had been holding back finally spilled past her lips.
Testing to see if her reaction was genuine, Kruger hit her again between her legs causing his captive to cry out each time he made contact.
Oscar Kruger smiled a little sign of satisfaction and he pressed harder against her, running the pads of his fingers up and down her inner thighs and over her labia before delving between them. Lacey tried to squirm against the bonds even though she knew it was no use, a flush of anger and humiliation rising through her and into her face as he dragged his finger up and rubbed two firm circles on her clit.
She gasped despite herself and he smiled, plunging the finger inside of her briefly before extracting it and wiping her own moisture against the smooth skin of Lacey’s cheek.
It was degrading. She felt the heat rise to her face again, not in anger or hatred or fear but in understanding of her arousal, of her own body's response to what he was doing. She let it rise, let it flush in her cheeks and her chest, unwilling to stop looking at him. She wouldn't give in; she didn't care if it was getting to her.
He peered into her eyes as his fingers returned to her chest. The South African Mercenary took one nipple between his fingers and pinched it until his beautiful captive let out a whimper, then he twisted the teat one way and then the other, pulling it taut before releasing it. He moved slowly, methodically, back and forth between her breasts, giving each hardened nipple the same amount of attention.
Despite herself, Lacey felt her body responding to what he was doing, squirming and writhing and tightening under his touch, her pussy starting to ache. The stinging pain from the slaps was beginning to fade, replaced by pain from the cruel attention to her nipples.
Eventually he stopped and, turning his back on the bound girl, he moved to the side cabinets. Lacey attempted to follow him with her eyes but the strap on her forehead limited her.
She could still feel tingling in the places he'd slapped her. And aside from the mocking acknowledgement that she was going to try to stay quiet, he hadn't said a thing.
She'd been prepared for interrogations as a part of her training, but this didn't seem like an interrogation ... not yet.
Having seemingly gathered what he was looking for, Kruger turned his back on her and walked out through the door again. She watched him pass by the large observation window, and took a moment to fall apart. It was quick … it had to be quick … and it had to be when he couldn't see her. She couldn't scream, couldn't let him hear, but she let her breath come quickly into a hyperventilation, and her muscles spasmed as she thrashed and squirmed trying to wrestle free of the manacles holding her down. Lacey knew it was useless, but that energy had to go somewhere. Agent Anderson had thirty seconds like this, and then she made herself stop, locking the panic and anxiety away somewhere just like she had been trained to do. Her breathing steadied and her demeanour regulated as her body and mind calmed.
He was only gone for a few minutes. When he returned, he was wheeling a computer that had a nest of wires dangling from one side. Mostly ignoring her, he went about plugging in and setting up the unit, doing something with the wires that she couldn't see. When he turned to face her, Lacey was trying hard to hide her fear.
She felt something cool against her skin, as he pressed several of the padded leads against her chest. Two more went on her lower abdomen, the last two he pushed above the chest strap and under her collar bone, one on each side of her chest. She had figured out they were electrodes, but were they to monitor her, or hurt her?
Finally, Agent Anderson felt something clip onto one of her fingers, and Kruger stepped back behind the computer again. He faced the screen away from her and stood behind it. She could barely keep him in her line of vision if she looked down and to the left, but it meant that he appeared in double, and she couldn't get a good read on his expression. The young girl found herself feeling dizzy and had to return her eyes straight ahead, staring at the ceiling, waiting for what would come next.
Suddenly his fingers pushed hard into a spot on her right thigh and she gasped, his face appearing above hers again.
"Oh, does that hurt?" he asked with a tone of amusement. She bit back a reply, and he pushed harder into her skin. The pain was overwhelming and she whined, but he added more pressure, staring down at her with detached bemusement. She held it back as long as she could, but when he let up and then began to push into her anew, Lacey let out a choked cry and gave him what he wanted.
"Yes, it hurts," she whispered.
"Good." His finger released its painful hold much to her relief, and she sagged into the table. It did hurt, a lot and it still ached and burned even in the absence of his touch.
"I'm sure you already know this, but technology is astoundingly good at reading a human being," he said.
She stared at him wordlessly.
"Scared, or sick, or dehydrated, and your heart rate increases. There are algorithms now that can create respiration rates from pulse oximeter readings. Not to mention muscle activation and contraction. Nothing to read thoughts yet, sadly, but much to read someone's body."
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of playing into his game. She wasn't going to engage him.
“So, with this piece of clever technology I can monitor your levels of pain and pleasure, and tell when you’re lying to me … Shall we begin?”
To Be Continued …
A small unused warehouse in Enkoping, approximately 79 kilometres outside Stockholm
Kruger leaned over and looked into Lacey’s eyes. She thought about closing them and trying to dissociate, but she'd need to save that trick for when it was really needed. Instead, she stared back, feeling the pounding in her chest and the uneven cadence of her breath. He raised his hand dramatically and brought it down, letting her tense before stopping just short of her skin.
Much to his malevolent and sadistic amusement, Agent Anderson flinched.
He did it again, stopping just before contact, letting her see the start of the amused smile play on his lips as he relished her reaction. More hatred rose in her chest as he brought his hand down hard against her thigh again, and before her brain could analyse the stinging pain, he slapped her hard across the face. She gasped at that, breath breaking free from her lungs, which he took as an invitation to slap her between her legs … the unexpected, sharp pain in such a sensitive place caused Lacey to cry out.
He built up a rhythm like this - sometimes faking, sometimes making contact with her flesh, in the same spots, over and over but with no particular pattern. On occasion he made repeated contact with her body, hitting her left thigh in quick succession, her face, her other thigh, between her legs, across her breasts …
Lacey could feel her nipples tightening in response to the pain, and he moved his attention to her breasts, making her flinch with anticipation from contact that never came before slapping hard against her nipples, occasionally alternating breasts and sometimes staying repeatedly on one. He returned his hand to between her legs and slapped her bare mound, hard, once, twice, three times, four, repeating the random pattern of sporadically making contact … or not.
Lacey writhed and squirmed in her futile attempts to get free. The rhythm of the beating stung to the point of it becoming unbearable. Her body throbbed and left her chest heaving with ragged undulation. Her pussy burned and stung, tingling pins and needles in her flesh. Then he brought has open palm down again and the scream that Lacey had been holding back finally spilled past her lips.
Testing to see if her reaction was genuine, Kruger hit her again between her legs causing his captive to cry out each time he made contact.
Oscar Kruger smiled a little sign of satisfaction and he pressed harder against her, running the pads of his fingers up and down her inner thighs and over her labia before delving between them. Lacey tried to squirm against the bonds even though she knew it was no use, a flush of anger and humiliation rising through her and into her face as he dragged his finger up and rubbed two firm circles on her clit.
She gasped despite herself and he smiled, plunging the finger inside of her briefly before extracting it and wiping her own moisture against the smooth skin of Lacey’s cheek.
It was degrading. She felt the heat rise to her face again, not in anger or hatred or fear but in understanding of her arousal, of her own body's response to what he was doing. She let it rise, let it flush in her cheeks and her chest, unwilling to stop looking at him. She wouldn't give in; she didn't care if it was getting to her.
He peered into her eyes as his fingers returned to her chest. The South African Mercenary took one nipple between his fingers and pinched it until his beautiful captive let out a whimper, then he twisted the teat one way and then the other, pulling it taut before releasing it. He moved slowly, methodically, back and forth between her breasts, giving each hardened nipple the same amount of attention.
Despite herself, Lacey felt her body responding to what he was doing, squirming and writhing and tightening under his touch, her pussy starting to ache. The stinging pain from the slaps was beginning to fade, replaced by pain from the cruel attention to her nipples.
Eventually he stopped and, turning his back on the bound girl, he moved to the side cabinets. Lacey attempted to follow him with her eyes but the strap on her forehead limited her.
She could still feel tingling in the places he'd slapped her. And aside from the mocking acknowledgement that she was going to try to stay quiet, he hadn't said a thing.
She'd been prepared for interrogations as a part of her training, but this didn't seem like an interrogation ... not yet.
Having seemingly gathered what he was looking for, Kruger turned his back on her and walked out through the door again. She watched him pass by the large observation window, and took a moment to fall apart. It was quick … it had to be quick … and it had to be when he couldn't see her. She couldn't scream, couldn't let him hear, but she let her breath come quickly into a hyperventilation, and her muscles spasmed as she thrashed and squirmed trying to wrestle free of the manacles holding her down. Lacey knew it was useless, but that energy had to go somewhere. Agent Anderson had thirty seconds like this, and then she made herself stop, locking the panic and anxiety away somewhere just like she had been trained to do. Her breathing steadied and her demeanour regulated as her body and mind calmed.
He was only gone for a few minutes. When he returned, he was wheeling a computer that had a nest of wires dangling from one side. Mostly ignoring her, he went about plugging in and setting up the unit, doing something with the wires that she couldn't see. When he turned to face her, Lacey was trying hard to hide her fear.
She felt something cool against her skin, as he pressed several of the padded leads against her chest. Two more went on her lower abdomen, the last two he pushed above the chest strap and under her collar bone, one on each side of her chest. She had figured out they were electrodes, but were they to monitor her, or hurt her?
Finally, Agent Anderson felt something clip onto one of her fingers, and Kruger stepped back behind the computer again. He faced the screen away from her and stood behind it. She could barely keep him in her line of vision if she looked down and to the left, but it meant that he appeared in double, and she couldn't get a good read on his expression. The young girl found herself feeling dizzy and had to return her eyes straight ahead, staring at the ceiling, waiting for what would come next.
Suddenly his fingers pushed hard into a spot on her right thigh and she gasped, his face appearing above hers again.
"Oh, does that hurt?" he asked with a tone of amusement. She bit back a reply, and he pushed harder into her skin. The pain was overwhelming and she whined, but he added more pressure, staring down at her with detached bemusement. She held it back as long as she could, but when he let up and then began to push into her anew, Lacey let out a choked cry and gave him what he wanted.
"Yes, it hurts," she whispered.
"Good." His finger released its painful hold much to her relief, and she sagged into the table. It did hurt, a lot and it still ached and burned even in the absence of his touch.
"I'm sure you already know this, but technology is astoundingly good at reading a human being," he said.
She stared at him wordlessly.
"Scared, or sick, or dehydrated, and your heart rate increases. There are algorithms now that can create respiration rates from pulse oximeter readings. Not to mention muscle activation and contraction. Nothing to read thoughts yet, sadly, but much to read someone's body."
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of playing into his game. She wasn't going to engage him.
“So, with this piece of clever technology I can monitor your levels of pain and pleasure, and tell when you’re lying to me … Shall we begin?”
To Be Continued …
