I'm just going to dump all my stories as quickly as possible. Life changes are under way, and I don't anticipate I'll post for a while. All of these stories are fictional/fantasy. Any resemblance to any persons, real or fictional, are coincidental. I do not condone any harm to anybody. If you plan on hurting yourself or others, please do not, and seek help. I enjoy feedback, so if you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment below!

--CB




Part 1



I could not believe my eyes.

I thought back to how long I had been assigned this gig for the military. Two months I had been here, working 12 hour shifts at a time, and I was beginning to burn out. Maybe it was from the boredom. But it was the same old shit. Again and again. Prisoner after prisoner. Men, really. Almost all of them. Occasionally I'd have my fun with a women, but they tended to be older. I had interrogated dozens of them. And yes, I had the green light to use the most gruesome of methods. It was war, after all. And we were in the middle of a city on ledge. The enemy had at times threatened control of the city, and sometime we did. But it was a tenuous situation. And so I had to do my job. Which was to extract information from people, really at all costs. Many of these people were later executed. So really the whole art of torturing without making a mark was lost in our job these days. If I had to remove an eyeball, so be it. If I had to break every bone in a body, I did it. I got good at my job, but I was getting tired.

And then I looked at my sheet that day, of who I was assigned to now. I had been assigned a prisoner, and I could hardly believe my eyes.

Name: Sandra. Gender: Female. Age: 11.

Instantly, I was hooked. I read her file briefly. She was suspected of being a messenger and a spy for the enemy. And she reported to some fairly important officers within the enemy ranks. Those who had captured her were certain that she knew where nearly all of the sniper nests were at within the eastern bloc of the city. It was of great importance to our commanders that we limit the sniper presence in the city. It wasn't just to kills that they made that worried our central command. It was the psychological terror of being killed at any moment. That nobody was safe. And they targeted officers. High level commanders. So we knew they had spies. And apparently, this little girl was one of them. She would identify our officers, and report back to her friends where each of them routinely visited. It was thought that at any given time, she was aware of dozens of sniper positions, and answered to a good handful of enemy captains. After all, who on our side would suspect that an innocent, pretty little girl was working for the enemy? And our officers liked little girls from the civilian population. Even if it wasn't for perverse obsessions, they often used little girls to run errands, buy things from the store. It was better to send a local girl to shop for groceries than to go yourself, and expose yourself to targeted assassinations. So this is what Sandra did. But somehow, somewhere, she got caught. And ended up in my hands.

Use any method to obtain the information, my brief had read. And waste little time. The snipers were killing dozens of soldiers daily, and an officer every few days. This little girl knew names. And she knew where the snipers liked to roost. The faster I could obtain the information, the better. Every enemy sniper killed from my efforts will earn me a commendation, my brief read. I could get anything I wanted, if I succeeded admirably, it had informed of me. Anything? I seriously doubted that. This girl had be to very important. And they wanted me to work fast? Well, that would be harder. Men I had tortured in the past never took long to crack. So I had my tricks.

Really? I thought to myself. Anything I wanted?

I looked at the picture they had taken of her face at processing. It was flawless. She was a beauty indeed. She wasn't smiling in the picture (of course not), but I could picture her smiling. She had shoulder length hair, dark brown in color. Brown eyes. Peach-tan skin. This would be hard. The last thing I would want would be to tarnish her beauty. But I needed to know everything inside of her.

I opened the door to the interrogation room.

There she was. Strapped to a table. She was wearing the standard issue uniform for female prisoners. They had no sizes for children, so it looked rather large on her. I hoped they weren't too rough on her in processing.

"Hello there," I said in a calm voice.

She turned her head to the side, and looked at me briefly. It was a quick survey into what to expect. She obviously didn't like what she saw, and turned away almost as fast as she had turned to see me.

"I'm going to be honest with, little girl," I said. "I know you have information that we want, and we can do this the easy way, and you can tell me everything you know, or you can make this harder for yourself. We can find ways to get you to tell us everything, but it will hurt."

Sandra kept her head turned away. I wasn't entirely sure she was listening, but judging from the increase in her respiration rate, I suspected she could understand everything I was telling her. I could tell she was scared. Her chest rose quickly, and I could see the vibrations of her pulse in her neck veins. Her heart was racing. For a moment there, I wondered if she was going to tell me everything I wanted to know right then and there. That would be great, wouldn't it? But then again, it wouldn't. I wanted to have some fun first.

I didn't want to make this too easy for me. I decided to add some challenge to my day. No little girl was going to get involved in a war unless something very close to her had been taken away. I wanted to draw on that strength. I wanted a fight from her.

"This war has taken something from all of us," I said to her,"No doubt something very special has been taken from you. I imagine you must be fighting for something you very strongly believe in. Know this. Every sniper you have helped has killed one of our soldiers. Your role in this war has been crucial. Do you know how important you are to our commanders? They seem to think that you hold the very key to our success in the war."

I was lying, of course. She was important, but not THAT important. I wanted her to feel special, of course.

"If I can't get the information I want from you, then maybe your fight will have been worthwhile, don't you think? But if I can, then everything you will have fought for will have been in vain."

I was playing mind games. At this point, I wanted to see her fight.

I was trying to make the field harder for me. It wasn't fair. I had broken my fair share of soldiers. I had broken my fair share of men and a few women. Surprisingly, women were easier to break, contrary to popular belief. Men were weirded out by rape, but women really took it to the next level. Raping them was like the end of the world. And so with that fear, (and that experience) many of them folded much easier.

My victims had mostly been adults. So many of them had experienced pain, and knew at least somewhat what to expect. The women knew they were going to be raped. The men knew they were going to get a Medieval style torture. But given that she was only 11, it was unlikely she had experienced THAT much pain, much less even known about what happens to be people when they get captured and tortured. It was a different scenario, certainly. And so, I didn't have a lot of faith in her pain tolerance, or her will to struggle.

So I tipped the scales in her favor. Just to have more fun. It was a 12 hour shift after all. And I had just had a cup of coffee.

"I want to know," I said. "Why do you fight? Most little girls are at home with their families. Some of them are still going to school, even in this terrible war. Very few of them are involved in the war. Why do you fight?"

I waited for a few seconds. Of course she wasn't going to respond. I had hoped she was going to stay silent. My first task then, was to get her to talk. About anything.

"What is your name, then?" I asked.

Still no response. I poked my head to the other side of the table. Her eyes were closed. Her mouth tightly pursed.

"Very good then. If you won't talk, then I have ways to make you talk."

Now this was exciting. My first task , it would seem, would be to get this little girl to talk. Easy enough, I thought to myself. I'd start slow, of course.

I knew that stripping her nude would probably do nothing. If anything, she had already experienced the shame of processing. They probably took her clothes, washed her off with a hose, and doused her with delousing powder, then forced her to wear some smelly uniform from a long dead prisoner.

And so I took out my knife, and I cut her shirt off. Sure enough, some of the white anti-parasitic powder still clung to her skin, now a tad sticky from the perspiration she was starting to produce. This was a little gross, I thought to myself. Not to mention, if I get any of this crap in my eyes, I'll start to get irritated as well. So I used my knife to cut off her pants too. They didn't give her any underwear, I laughed to myself. Of course not. Usually we have some short trousers to give to the men and women for some version of underwear. I think she was probably too small.

I yanked off her cut clothes. I then pulled from the wall a rubber hose, turned on the cold water, and started to rinse her body off. As the water flowed down her body, I could not help but admire how smooth and sleek her skin was. This here before me was truly an angel. Not only was she 11 years old, but she was a beautiful 11 year old. She was fit, but not too muscular. You could tell she was a fairly active girl. And her skin was flawless. Save for a few scrapes on her knees and elbows, there was not a blemish in site.

She was starting to look like a woman, but not quite. Her vulva (I spent many years as a medic in the army, so pardon my tendency to want to be anatomically correct) was smooth and puffy. I took a closer look at her prepubescent mound. Wow, I thought to myself. What a pretty pussy. You could still see just the labia majora. No labia minora. Her pussy hadn't developed enough where the inner lips were poking out. And though I could appreciate a layer of downy hairs that started to line her vulval lips, she really had no hair at all. I rinsed the area a little more thoroughly with my hose.

I parted her two pussy lips, and peered closer on the inside.

Amazing.

Her clit was actually a little larger, comparitively speaking, to an adult's clit. It looked more tender. The inner lips were pink and smooth. No folds or wrinkles.

I took the hose and rinsed the area out. I could hear an audible gasp and then a moan from the girl as I ran the cool water through her lips. Already I could feel myself getting significantly aroused. I wondered if I was going to cum during this shift or not. It would be fairly unprofessional to cum. Certainly this early. Can you imagine what my superiors would say if I just started out raping this girl? What was your game plan, they might ask. Did you take this seriously? Do you really expect us to believe that you weren't just horny and decided to fuck the first pretty little girl you saw? Yeah. No. I couldn't fuck her. Yet. I needed to work on her.

I looked at her face. Her eyes were still shut. A fairly large frown had formed on her face. I smiled. I took my index finger on my right hand, and I rubbed it in between her slit. I did this while watching her face, and savoring the feel of her young slit around my finger. God it felt good. It was so soft and tender. And slick.

I could see that she started to squirm. And not long after that she started to moan and grunt, turning her head from side to side. She squeezed her legs together, but despite this maneuver, she could not protect her slit from my finger. She bucked her hips and swayed them from side to side, and using this method, she did fairly well in disrupting my finger from violating her girlhood.

I tightened the ropes holding her ankles down, and pulled them even wider apart. God, she looked so beautifully obscene. Little girl, legs held wide apart, contracting her thigh muscles to pull them together, but unsuccessfully so. Naked, glistening with cold water.

And just for good measure, to add yet another element of helplessness, I pulled the ropes holding her wrists down, and pulled them high above her head. A little bit of tension to prevent her from squirming too much, but not so much that one couldn't see how much she was squirming. God it was such a sexy picture. It was like she was dancing at a cabaret. Bucking and swaying her hips. Twisting her torso, wriggling her toes and fingers in utter discomfort.

"Oh god!" She cried, "Please stop! Please stop. Oh god, please!"

And so I did.

I was a little sad.

I had wanted to do more.

But if I were in her shoes, I'd be pretty distressed as well. I doubt anybody had ever touched her down there. It's possible she had (many girls start masturbating at ten), but many don't. Being captured, being stripped naked, hosed down, and processed was one thing. But having some strange man touch you down there. While you were naked. Vulnerable. Tied up. God it had to be the strangest of all feelings. Very invasive. Very uncomfortable. And a little painful I might add. I don't imagine that area to be very resilient at all. After all, I did have some callouses on my finger.

I had to be careful not to move too quickly.

"OK, so now the little girl talks," I taunted.

"Let's start with your name. Can you give me that?"

"It's Sandra," she sobbed.

"Very good, Sandra, and what about your last name?"

"Monroe."

"Monroe, huh?"

I let my gaze drift down her face, to her shoulders, perfectly round. I let my eyes wander to her flat chest and tits, eyeing hungrily at her nipples, which were a light brown in complexion. I parted her pussy with my fingers again, and stared at the pink inner lips. Her anatomy was perfect. Her skin was still a creamy peach-white.

"Sandra Monroe, then. How old are you?"

"I'm eleven years old."

And then something happened. She must have snapped out of a trance.

"Please, sir. I'm only eleven. I'm just a girl. Please, sir, I'm innocent. I'm just a girl, and I'm scared!"

Interesting, I thought to myself. Suddenly she was this brave, quiet soul, who would remain silent in the face of armageddon. And then for a moment, it looked as if I had gotten her to cooperate for a bit. But then, bam! Again, in another instant she had change dagin. I could see the wheels turn in her brain. Her strategy had shifted. She was trying to play the 'I'm a little girl' card. I was fairly impressed. She was more clever than she looked. But I didn't believe her for one second. This was going to be good.

I slapped her hard in the face.

"I asked you, you little cunt, how old you were. I didn't ask you to beg for your life."

I grabbed her face, and thrust it in my direction.

"Don't get smart with me, or there will be consequences."

I grabbed her right nipple in between my fingers, pinched, and twisted. Sandra yelped in pain.

I decided to make things more interesting. I started to caress her body. It was a heavenly experience. I ran my hands up and down her chest and belly. I carressed her ass and thighs. She was starting to develop a womanly form, especially in the hips, but her chest was still flat. Her nipples were budding, ever so slightly. I knew at this stage, they were particularly sensitive.

Then I decided to spice things up a bit more. I used my finger to find her puckered anus.

"Ohhhh, please no!" she cried, as I flicked my finger up and down for a few seconds over her hole.

And as I wiggled the end of my finger, I started to slowly push my finger up inside her anus. I met quite a bit of resistance. I wasn't using any lube. Just water. And I quickly discovered that water was a fairly poor lubricator. I didn't want this to be pleasant, so I just kept pushing harder. It didn't help also that her asshole was probably a few sizes smaller than an adult anus.

Sandra howled in both pain and I'm sure shame. It must have been unpleasant as hell.

And so I kept wiggling my finger and pushing. Wiggling and pushing. And she kept squirming and screaming. God it was such a loud scream. It was annoying actually. I didn't know what I was doing. If I wanted her to talk to me, I needed her to stop screaming. But I was just so horny. I kept pushing, until my finger was in through to the knuckle. My hand was actually starting to hurt because her butt cheeks had squeezed down on them so hard, she was actually causing me a bit of pain myself.

I let her scream for a little while longer, but I kept my finger motionless inside her butt.

It took only a few seconds before she realized that the wiggling and the entry into her butt had gone no further. I am sure it was mighty uncomfortable to have my finger lodged deep inside her butt, but the pain was surely beginning to subside. I could see that she was started to relax her butt cheeks too, as her mind and body were slowly starting to get used to the idea of a foreign object inside of her rectum.

Her screaming turned into a soft sob. At this moment, I'm sure a great deal of self-pity was washing over her. How many little girls did she know are currently tied up naked on a table, with a strange man's finger inside their butthole? How awful was this?

"Now I don't want you to scream." I said quietly. "If you scream, things will get worse. I want you to answer my questions honestly, and calmly. If I am unhappy with an answer, I'll cause more pain in your bottom. If I am happy, I'll leave things as they are, and maybe even make the situation better."

"So, eleven year old, Sandra Monroe, when is your birthday?"

She looked a puzzled. She was about to tell a man with a finger up her anus when her birthday was.

And I wasn't planning on giving her a present.

"September twenty second," she responded in between sobs and hiccups.

"Where are you parents?"

She paused. More tears seemed to well up in her eyes.

"They're dead."

Ah, I thought to myself. Now we're on to something.

"How did they die?"

"People like you killed them."

Excellent I thought to myself. Time to draw on that strength, little girl.

"That may be so. And what about others in your family? Do you have any siblings?"

"I have. Had. A little brother."

"Did he die in the war too?"

She did not answer.

I wiggled my finger, taking care to twist it to the left and right as well. She howled.

"Yes!" She cried in agony. "Yes, he died in the war too!"

"And did we kill him too?"

"Yes!" She screamed. "Yes you did!"

"Do you have anybody left in your family?"

She shook her head, and her sobs renewed.

Very good, I thought to myself. Making good progress. Only half an hour had elapsed. Man, time flies when you are having fun. Eleven and a half more hours to go. If I gotten her to tell me where all of the snipers were, I wondered if I could request to keep her. Could you imagine? Having a perfect little 11 year old girl all to yourself? I lived deep in the woods when I wasn't working. I had a basement. I could keep her down there. And to have my government fully support this. Wow. It hadn't been heard of. But most of these people who came through me ended up dead or disappeared anyways. How farfetched would it be to just call this girl 'expired,' and let me keep her?

It was possible.

I couldn't mess her up too badly then. I thought she was so beautiful, so pretty. Such a great face, such great skin. I wanted her badly as my pet. This would be a challenge then. No skinning. No ripping off of fingernails or toenails. No hot oil down the rectum. No mercury inside the scalp. This was going to be tough. She wasn't just a pretty face and a hot bod. In half an hour, she had shown some will, and some fight. And don't forget some cleverness as well.

"I understand why you fight, little girl. But you can't fight me. I want you to tell me how you are involved in this war. What you do. Everything you do. Don't lie to me. Every lie will be severely punished."

I continued, "I'll start by taking my finger out of your ass. But I expect you to lick it clean with your mouth. If you don't, the price of that will be a finger up your pussy."

I was curious.

Obviously this little girl had no idea what kinds of horrors would be available to be used on her, even if I was handicapped on what kinds of devices I could use to torture her. But this was an interesting predicament for me to place her in.

It had to be the first time anything had gone up her butt. And it had to be awful. And it sure sounded painful too. I removed my finger from her asshole. It was, as expected, covered in shit, but there was no blood. I was relieved. If she bled from a finger, then my options for keeping her intact were certainly limited.

I then brought it close to her face, and had her smell her own shit. She had a look of horror and disgust when the smell hit her. It had to be a dilemma. As awful as eating your own shit had to be, it had to be pretty unappealing to have that same finger up her pussy too. As sensitive as little girls are to having things pushed up their ass, it was possibly more sensitive to have things pushed up their little vaginas too. She was eleven, so while sex with an adult male was possible, she still had not gone through enough puberty to have a fully matured vagina, with thick durable walls, ruggated and tough. She was also potentially unable to create any of her own lubrication.

Little girl vaginas are, I'm told, very sensitive. But she didn't know that. Yet.

I gave her a minute or two to deliberate.

I then realized the predicament I had placed myself in.

She could stay silent forever. I did not give her an option for what would happen if she just never responded.

Damn, I thought to myself. I was too careless with that.

"Fine then," I said, "If you can't decide, then while I think of a punishment for indecision, I will put my finger back where it came from."

I pushed my shit-stained finger back in, eliciting this time a brief cry of discomfort, but no yell, scream or sob. It went in actually fairly easily, as the shit probably lubed it up for the second entry. It was much less painful this time around too, I'm sure. I really didn't like poop that much, so I wasn't going to keep up this charade for much longer.

Finally, I had decided to just go for it. I didn't want to start off this fast, but I just couldn't wait Nipple clamps it was, then.

I pulled my finger out, and using my left hand, I rummaged through the desk of torture devices and instruments at the desk at the end of the room. There were countless more instruments on the wall, but the room was dimly lit. I wonder if she saw these earlier, and how they made her feel. Probably not very good. Most of the instruments on the wall you could find at a local hardware store too, so you had to be pretty imaginative to really see how these devices were used on humans. And I doubt she imagined how they would be used on her. Unless she was really not as innocent as I had imagined.

I found the two nipple clamps. Wow, I thought to myself. This was going to hurt.

"Alright, little Sandra," I said.

"I'm going to put some clamps on your nipples. I imagine this will hurt you more than others who have felt these clamps, because your nipples are budding and still developing."

I rubbed her tiny nipple buds. She kept her eyes shut, and said nothing. I then placed a clamp on her left nipple, which initially did not elicit any response. Only a second later did the pain probably rush in, and she moaned softly, pushing the air out of her lungs in a pained exhale.

I clamped her right nipple, and elicited a similar response. Her chest now rose and fell deeply. You could tell she was starting to suffer. I pushed my finger back into her anus. I was starting to have fun.

"Once again, I suggest that you respond. If you fail to respond, the nipple clamps will remain, and I will add more clamps to your body. In places, of course, that are very sensitive to pain."

And to my great delight, she remained silent, huffing and puffing her chest, to try to bear the pain, which I am sure was quite novel and severe for her. Still silent, huh? Well then. I pulled my finger back out of her anus, and went to my desk to grab two more clamps, and a clothespin.

The clamps I was afraid would be too severe for the last spot I was planning on using them on. I didn't want to cause any permanent damage, after all. And they were pretty strong clamps too. I had used them on many of my previous victims, and the common consensus is that they hurt worst in the initial minutes, but the pain does die down after a while, as the nipples get used to the clamp. It does hurt when you agitate the clamps, but the worst pain is when you first put them on, and immediately when you take them off. I suspect they do cause some brief damage to the inner tissue, because the soreness they tell me lasts for days afterwards.

And I did not want to risk excessive damage just yet. The clothespin, while painful, is not as tight.

Pushing my finger back in her anus, I then with my left hand opened up the clamp, using the ends of the clamp parted her left labia from the right, and applied the clamp to a good meaty chunk of her left vulvar lip. Ouch, I thought to myself. This is going to hurt.

Sandra could immediately feel the pain, and unlike the clamps on her nipples, she cried out loudly in pain. But only for a second or two, after which she resumed her heavy breathing. Fantastic, I thought to myself. This girl is a little tougher than I expected. I love that.

I grabbed the other clamp, and applied it to her right pussy lip. I was a little clumsy, not being left-handed and all, and also not having the help of my right hand, whose finger was lodged in her ass. But I got it on, also taking a fairly large bite out of her girl flesh. Looked pretty symmetrical too. I was a little proud.

Sandra let out a fairly extended moan. She seemed to be getting frustrated with the pain that was no doubt building up in her genitals. At this point, the pain was still probably peaking in her nipples.

I then grabbed the clothespin with my left hand. I wanted this in before she could give in. I knew she was close to breaking.

I fumbled around with my left hand, but it was hard to part both of her lips with just my left hand and get the clothespin in securely around her clit. So I removed my right finger momentarily, parted her lips open with my thumb and ring finger, eyeballed my target, opened the clothespin, and clamped it down securely and firmly down onto her entire clit. And before she could feel the pain from her smashed clit shooting into her brain, I pushed my shit stained finger back into her anus and wiggling, twisting, and fucking her with my finger as the pain from her clit shot to her brain.

Boy, she screamed. So. Loudly.

"Oh god!" She yelled, "God please stop! God please stop. It hurts so much, please God, take it off, take it out! I'll tell you what you want to hear, please, God it hurts!"

Wow.

And just like that. I had broken her, just a little.

I didn't even do anything.

She's tough, but c'mon. Most women would have pushed through at least through this. She was just a child, after all, I thought to myself.

But I wasn't going to give it to her easy. I wanted to know more. About other things.

"I know, little one. I know you'll tell me everything. But that's not what I had asked," I said, as I removed my finger from her ass, and walked toward my tools.

"I wanted to know if you had decided on whether you wanted to lick my finger clean, or if you wanted me to put my finger in your pussy," I said. "But because I'm a little angry you had me waiting, I've upped the ante. And if you're too young to know what 'ante' means, it means I've changed my mind. It's either you lick the shit clean off my finger, or I put this up your little vagina."

I reached into my drawer to grab a fairly realistic looking mold of a penis. I walked quickly over to her to wave my finger in front of her nose again, reminding her of the stink. And then with my left hand I waved the dildo in front of her face. Its rubber form, wobbled obscenely in front of her face, as it brushed against her mouth a few times. I didn't want to damage her, so it was normal sized dildo. But it was going to hurt like hell, I'm sure, because I'm pretty sure eleven year old girls aren't supposed to fuck an adult sized dildo on their first penetration. God I wish I could have fucked her, but I couldn't cum this early, or I'd lose my inspiration. And it would be unprofessional, of course.

"Take your time to decide, little girl," I taunted. "Those clamps are going to stay. And if you think you can handle them now, wait till I add some electricty to them. Then you'll dance for me."

I could see the wheels turn in horror in her brain. Of course she didn't want to lick my finger. Of course she didn't want to taste shit. Actually, a finger in her vagina might not have been bad, but now this monstrosity? It was huge. I'm sure it was incomprehensible. I doubt that she could even know what it meant. I realized that I had kept referring to her vagina and pussy. She should probably know what a vagina is, but maybe not a pussy. And if she didn't know what a pussy was, she sure as hell did now.

And then something else dawned on me. Did she even know she had a hole down there? Did she even know there was an orifice down there other than her pee hole and her poop hole, to push stuff into?

Hm. Maybe not.

And so I was asking her to decide between something extremely disgusting and awful, (but at least she kind of knew what to expect), versus pushing something the size of a large poop up a hole she had never even known to exist. This I was beginning to realize, was quite the dilemma.

I was beginning to wonder to myself whether this was similar to some strange man asking me to decide between tasting shit and having him cut a hole in my leg to push a large cucumber into. And sure enough, she came to the same conclusion as any rational person under increasing duress came to.

"I'll lick your finger! Please! I'll lick your finger. Please just stop hurting me. I'll do it, sir, please."

Take the route the you know is bad, but at least you know what to expect, I thought to myself. I'd have done it myself. Interesting. So she's quite logical.

"Gahhh!" she exclaimed as I removed the clothespin from her clit.

It hadn't been there long, so it really hadn't peaked in the amount of pain it could deliver. Plus, I didn't even get a chance to twist it, or run a current through it. The pain of the blood returning had to be there, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Lucky, I thought to myself.

She cried out in fresh pain as I removed the rest of her clamps. I waited a minute for her to recover. I wanted her to feel what it was like to not experience really any pain at all. I wanted her to catch her breath.

"Alright, I said to her. "Lick it clean, or the clamps go back on. Open wide. Open. Your mouth. Good, good girl. Now close your mouth. Good girl. And suck. I want you to suck it all off-"

And then suddenly, I felt a sharp pain.

And in an instant I knew where I had gone wrong.

The little bitch was trying to bite my finger off.

I yelled in pain as the bitch bit down hard on my finger. I pulled my finger away, but she wouldn't let go. I panicked.

"Let go you bitch, let go now!" I shouted.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I fucked up.

I really fucked up.

Ouch, to the fucking ouch.

I panicked. I reached down with my left hand and grabbed her neck. I squeezed as hard as I could, but I realized I really couldn't properly choke her with just one hand. So yeah, fuck, it didn't work. Oh shit, my finger hurt. I then used my hand to push her cheeks into her molars as hard as I could, hoping to push some of her cheek tissue into her teeth, and maybe then she would unclamp her jaw. That didn't fucking work.

And then I screamed into her face as loud as I could.

"You fucking bitch, you let go right this instant, or I swear to God I will gouge out your eyes, and pour hot fucking oil down your sockets while you scream in pain. You let go right this instant!"

I used my left hand to push down into her right eye ball, and I started to apply pressure. I was in so much pain, I really couldn't tell whether I was being gentle or not, or if I was starting to scoop out her eye. And then I felt her release. I pulled my hand back to safety.

Holy shit. She had bit me right through the flesh on both sides. Not quite to the bone though. And right in between the joints. I was lucky. If she had bit me on the joint, she could have taken my finger right off. It hurt like hell, but I could move my finger. Good. My tendons were intact. But holy shit, she could have cut right through my tendons too. I bet she did cut into most of them. I immediately rinsed my finger under water, and knowing that my greatest risk was infection, I pushed myself to rinse the area as good as I could with soap and water.

She didn't bite through any arteries, so the bleeding was minimal.

I rinsed the area for five more minutes.

Soap and water. Soap and water. Holy shit. What the hell happened. That was really stupid of me.

I dressed the area with antibiotic ointment, and wrapped it with gauze. I placed an order for antibiotics on my medication order sheet, and entered it into my PDA. Off the order went, into our intranet. Usually this was intended for my victims. But this time, it was for me. In just a few minutes, the in house pharmacy slipped my meds down through the tiny opening at the bottom of my interrogation room's door.

Holy shit, I thought to myself.

That was close. And stupid. I tried to move my finger again. It was really swollen. Really hard to move too, but I could move it.

I looked at Sandra.

I laughed.

Holy. Shit. I really liked her now.

I don't know of anyone who had ever done that to me before. That being said, I've never been so stupid before. I've never had a man suck my finger. Why? I usually just dissected his testicles. But with this girl, I was just so sexually charged. I expected that she'd be different. But she wasn't. And I'm glad she wasn't.

What fight. I loved it. I think maybe I was wrong about her.

In a moment of panic I rush to her to check on her right eye. Hm. Not even red. No sign of swelling. I guess I didn't press down too hard after all. I was relieved.

Boy did I get lucky. A one eyed little girl was definitely lower on the scale of sexiness.

I'll never make this mistake again, I tell you that.

She'd tasted my blood. This could be bad, I thought to myself. No one has ever done that. No one has ever seen me vulnerable, or even yell out in pain. I felt exposed. Vulnerable, myself. Hm, I thought. If there was ever anything to give this girl more fight, it might be this. I could use this to my advantage. Tasting my blood. But then again, I thought to myself, she'd had a taste of her own shit too.