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March 2000 Columns
xmag.com : March 2000 : Superior Sadist

Superior Sadist by Goddess Severina

The General ________________________

After discussing with him his interests, I left the room, telling him where to sit upon my return. I quickly changed in to my PVC bodysuit, general's coat and hat. As I walked back in to the room, I glanced at him casually.

"Ah... there you are, my naughty little spy. We have ways of making you talk. Spies are usually shot in this country. So... you have a choice..." I paused for effect, "Tell me everything I want to know, or you die."

"I can't do that, General," he replied shakily. "It would leave me with no honor."

"When I'm through with you," I said, "You will have no dignity." I then tied his wrists to the chair he was sitting in, and tied his ankles to each leg of the chair. He started to squirm, and breathe more heavily, his eyes wide open, anticipating his tortures...

I walked across the room and retrieved my violet wand electric shock torture kit. The wand, quite versatile and cunning, varied from 9 to 13 Volts. I placed the kit in front of him so he could see all the different attachments. I plugged it in, pushed the button on the handle, and it lit up--coming to life like a purring, crackling animal. His mouth dropped.

"No, General! Not that!"

"Will you tell me everything that I want to know?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like how did you get behind enemy lines? Are there more of you? Did you parachute in?"

"I... I... can't tell you that, General. I would rather die."

"Oh, but as you can see, I have something worse than death." I narrowed my eyes, and proceeded to zap him all over his chest and sides. He squealed in pain as the electricity surged through his body.

"Are you going to tell me?" I asked.

"We parachuted!" he screamed.

"How many were there?" I asked.

"I... I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know? Weren't you on the plane with your comrades?" I zapped him again. This time the electrical surge lasted for about 15 seconds. He tried to kick and move his legs and arms, but they were secured to the chair.

"How many were there?" I asked.

"12." he replied.

"I told you you had no honor," I said, slapping his face, which left a nice handprint on his right cheek. His eyes started to water.

"Now I only have one more question for you. How did you get behind enemy lines? My troops would have seen your men drop from the sky. Was it through the sewer lines? Do you have a diagram of the city?"

"I can't tell you that," he said, "Many people will die if I do."

"There's only one life you should be concerned with, and that is yours." I leaned closer, more threatening. "Now you have no dignity, so just tell me what I want to know."

When he hesitated once again, I slapped his other cheek with my left hand, and then proceeded to zap him continuously throughout his body for about 30 seconds. He screamed out in pain, begging me not to hurt him anymore. I then slapped his other cheek, his head recoiling to one side from the blow. Now his body was limp. I knew he would tell me anything that I wanted.



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