("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
               _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
              ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
            K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
 	   _________________________________________
                            WARNING!
	   This text file contains sexually explicit
	   material. If you do not wish to read this
	   type of literature, or you are under age,
	   PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
 	   _________________________________________




		   Scroll down to view text


















-------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2014. Please
do not remove the author information nor make any 
changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you 
for your consideration.
-------------------------------------------------------

Breaking Point
by Anonymous (2014)

***

A captured and tortured female secret agent finally 
knows her breaking point when another captive enters 
the scene. (MMFf, ped, nc, bd, tor)

***

Twenty-two-year-old Debra Jean Cain sat shivering in 
the engulfing arms of the leather easy chair into 
which she had been strapped. The tightly encompassing 
leather belts crossing her naked belly pressed 
tightly into her flesh, as did the others binding her 
arms and legs.

There was pain, but she was no longer capable of 
experiencing it. Not after the fifteen separate rapes 
she had endured during the preceding hour, the climax 
of her interrogation at the hands of the Imperial 
Police. 

Before the rapes there had been two full days of 
physical and psychological torture unlike any the 
young woman had ever imagined, even given the 
warnings her superiors had given her at mission 
briefing. 

Commander Rollins had made certain Debra was fully 
aware of the risks her undercover assignment 
involved, wanting none of his volunteers going into 
battle blind. 

"If you're caught, Debra," he had said, "the 
Imperials will use any means at their disposal to 
milk any information they can from you. You must be 
prepared for the worst. 

"We've received first-hand reports from our 
informants planted within the police ranks on just 
how ingenious these people can be. One of our 
youngest male agents, only twenty-two years of age, 
was uncovered by the Imperials last spring. Our 
infiltrants told us later that it took the young man 
over a week to die. 

"He was whipped, beaten, deprived of sleep, food and 
water, drugged. But still he apparently resisted. 
Finally they used one of their specially developed 
acid baths to dilute his epidermis over a period of 
three days until there was nothing left of his skin 
at all. He lived at least another day after that, 
following which our informant lost track of him. We 
list him now as missing and presumed. 

"So before you volunteer for this assignment, I want 
you to imagine yourself in that acid bath for those 
three days and nights. Because that's the risk you're 
taking. 

"Also," Rollins added, not diverting his direct gaze 
away from Debra, "since you are a woman there will 
be... other... forms of duress employed to persuade 
you to talk. Imperial troops are forbidden relations 
with females, as a part of their austere training 
regimen. But when a female prisoner falls into police 
hands, exceptions are made." 

Commander Rollins had needed to say no more. The risk 
was perfectly clear to his star recruit and nothing 
he could say would sway her from undertaking the 
mission at hand. 

Had she been foolish? But how could she have known 
that the Imperial Police had known the nature of her 
mission the moment she'd arrived at the Territorial 
border, had known her name even and almost everything 
else about her as well, and had been awaiting her 
arrival. 

Then had come all Commander Rollins had warned of and 
more. And now bruised, shaken, raped at every orifice 
her beautiful young body afforded her captors, Debra 
Jean Cain, soldier of the resistance, sat awaiting 
what her "interrogation officer" had promised her 
would be the "final solution" to her obstinately 
maintained silence. 

The room's heavy metal door clanged suddenly inward, 
startling Debra from her feverish reverie, and a 
metal table was rolled into the room and parked a few 
feet before her. Debra had seen such a table before, 
many times in fact. She'd seen it each time she'd 
reported for her periodic medical examinations since 
puberty. 

It was a surgical examination table, padded with 
leather upholstered cushion at top and equipped with 
the familiar set of gleaming metal stirrups at one 
end. But this table differed in one way from those 
others Debra had known. The straps. Two at the 
table's head, one across its middle, and two more 
securely bound to the upraised metal stirrups mounted 
to the table's foot. 

Debra instantly saw herself lying securely bound to 
this table, as she knew very well she soon would be, 
struggling a screaming under whatever unspeakable 
tortures the twisted mind of the Imperials could 
devise. 

But here she was very wrong. Instead of writhing in 
torment upon that table, Debra would soon be wishing 
wholeheartedly that she were. The minds of the 
Imperial Police Force were diabolical in less direct, 
but far more effective ways than anyone at Command 
had given credit to. 

The realization of this came to Debra slowly, her 
first clue a distant girlish sobbing coming from far 
away down the hall outside, growing steadily in its 
panicked fright as the source of the crying grew 
quickly nearer. 
	
Then Debra's eyes grew wide in horror as two 
uniformed guards of the Police entered through the 
open doorway, one each pinioning the upper arm... of 
Cary Lynn Cain... Debra's thirteen-year-old sister. 

A troop of questions flooded Debra's panicked mind as 
she watched the guards drag the struggling young girl 
before her seated older sister. 

"DEBBIE!" the girl shrieked at her sister in absolute 
terror. I must look a sight, though Debra, her mind 
insanely calm. Raped, beaten, whipped. Not the pretty 
blonde her younger sister would remember her to be. 

Cary Lynn was screaming for other reasons now. A 
third guard had arrived and was now calmly taking the 
clothes from young Cary's twisting, struggling frame. 
Away went the plaid swathe of her school uniform 
skirt. They took her from school, thought Debra. 
Called her from class. "Your sister wants you to 
come," they had no doubt told the girl, and she had 
come willingly, trustingly into this hell, a hell 
that Debra alone had agreed to face and not her sweet 
little sister. 

The white blouse and striped school tie was gone now, 
and young Cary Lynn was dressed only in her heart-
breakingly small training bra and a pair of simple 
little girl panties, their innocent plainness touched 
with a hint of lace. 

Cary Lynn danced in the restraining arms of the two 
guards as the third unsnapped and removed the small 
bra and tugged down the white panties. 

And then Debra Jean Cain's little sister was naked. 

The small breasts, taut-nippled in the room's vault- 
like chill, were hardly more than two ripe bears 
standing straight and proud for all their youth, 
promising greater things in years to come as they 
ripened. If indeed Cary would be allowed to ripen, 
Debra thought suddenly, and the thought brought tears 
to her eyes where she none should have remained left 
to be shed. 

The mound of Cary Lynn's pubescent sex, which the 
girl was now valiantly attempting to hide between 
pressing coltish thighs, was almost free of pubic 
fur. Only the mere shadow of what might come with 
distant maturity was hinted there in the form of a 
few sparse tendrils, these as blonde as the long 
golden tresses gathered into a ponytail upon the head 
of the thirteen-year-old. 

Suddenly Debra came to herself, screaming the word, 
"NO!" again and again, her reaction triggered by the 
sight of the three Imperial Guards dragging her naked 
sister toward the padded surgical table. 

Straps were tugged and buckled securely into place, 
tying down wrists, binding feet and ankles into the 
gleaming metal stirrups, and a final wide belt across 
Cary Lynn's belly pressing her back firmly against 
the table. 

Then the three guards stepped away from the table. 

Cary Lynn tugged violently at her bonds for a few 
moments, then became still, gathering breath for one, 
long, high anguished wail that broke her sister's 
heart as she heard in it some kind of instinctive 
realization of what was about to occur. This 
frightened Debra more than anything. 

The guards were now turning the examination table's 
end toward Debra, so that her little sister's young 
sex was open before her eyes for the first time since 
her sister's infancy. How vulnerable it looked, a 
small thin slit of pink against the glistening 
moisture of fear-sweat covering the girl's coltish 
thighs, held elevated and wide apart by the upraised 
position of the stirrups. 

A crank was turned beneath the table, lowering the 
end toward Debra, so that in a moment or two Cary 
Lynn could look downward and see her sister's face a 
few feet away, framed between her wide spread knees. 

Then Debra saw something else, something that made 
her scream out again that one word, "NOOOOOO!" in a 
howl of horror. 

The guards had fished three thin black cables from a 
rack beneath the table. There were clamps at the end 
of each of these and Debra heard wild shrieks rising 
high from Cary Lynn as the two of the clamps were 
fitted onto the small pink tips of her girlish 
breasts. 

The young girl's body danced against her bonds, her 
shrieks truly insane in their intensity as she 
struggled to free herself form the table, or at least 
to shake off the burning pinch of the cold cable 
clamps that bit her young nipples. 

Then suddenly, Cary's body froze, instantly quiet but 
for a sharp intake of breath as the third guard took 
hold of the small fold of flesh that hid the tiny bud 
of Cary's girlish clitoris... and clamped on the 
remaining cable there, pinching it down for a sure 
hold. 

Then Debra's interrogator was standing at the table's 
side, looking straight into Debra's eyes. 

"You really should have talked to us, Miss Cain," he 
said simply, and punctuated the sentence by clicking 
a switch on a small box mounted to the table's side. 

The box was a transformer. 

At the sound of the click young Cary Lynn's nakedly 
bound body arched upwards violently against the 
restraining straps, her back locking into a ridged 
bridge of incredible, unbelievable, unimaginable 
torment. A quick, low grunt was the only sound that 
came from her. 

Also, there was an almost instantaneous sparking 
flash from between Cary Lynn's straining thighs as 
the contents of her bladder erupted forth like a 
geyser under pressure and arced nearly three feet 
into the air in the direction of her bound older 
sister. 

When this uncontrollable stream disappeared finally 
after almost a full minute of electrical discharge 
the little toggle switch was clicked off and Cary 
Lynn's young body collapsed. 

Now came the scream that the girl had been unable to 
vent while the electricity had been coursing through 
her. No tormented soul in hell had ever let loose 
with such a cry. It was not like the cry of a 
thirteen-year-old human female. It was more that of a 
mortally wounded animal howling to the distant moon 
for sympathy. Sympathy that would not come. 

"STOP! OH, PLEASE, GOD, STOPPPPPPPPPPP!" This was the 
cry from Debra Jean Cain, soldier of the Resistance, 
her nation's pride, as she signaled her breaking 
point. She would betray her friends, the cause they 
believed in and that Debra shared with all her heart. 

"Fine," said the Interrogator, quietly. "We will 
allow your sister here to return to her classes." 

Then he smiled, the sharp-toothed smile of some 
prehistoric lizard. 

"Tomorrow, that is," he added, once again toggling 
the transformer switch into the "on" position, never 
taking his glittering eyes from those of the enemy 
agent he had just broken. 
	
END
 
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any 
of the scenarios in this story should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 81