08-06-2008, 01:02 AM
The Battered Agent written by Spidercrawlus
She could feel herself becoming delusional, the harsh experience taking its toll on her mind as well as her battered body. Her arms were aching, as she could feel the cold steel of the handcuffs slicing into her wrists as she felt her limp body getting heavier, her legs now useless for support. She knew the risks of the job, but she never thought she would be in this position. Yet here she was, sure she would be killed when her captors returned. They would have no more use for her, she wouldn't give-up any information, and she would serve no useful purpose in the future.
As she hung there, here mind floated in and out of consciousness, thoughts randomly popping around, making little or no sense. Her bowed head allowed her an easy view of her black, purple, red and blue torso. As blood dripped down her face from the cut under her eye and splashed on her shoulder, she began to count the drops, if only to take her focus away from the painful throbbing her body was feeling.
Tovah was not unlike any other girl growing up in Jerusalem. Her parents were both professors at the university, and like them, she was very bright. She was also athletic, excelled in track and had studied martial arts for almost all of her 29 years, earning her first black belt at the age of 12. She had planned on going into some type of international business while in high school, but after serving her mandatory hitch in the Israeli army when she turned 18, an entire new world opened-up to her. She was intrigued by the armed forces and their role in the Arab conflict. Her superiors were immediately impressed with her, her fighting skills were on the level of the best they already had, and she had a natural prowess with firearms, proving to be a deadly marksman.
She was promoted faster than anyone, male or female, in her class, and knew this was going to be the life for her. She settled into an elite paramilitary unit that focused on infiltrating and destroying Arab guerilla factions. Her mother was Egyptian, so with a darker complexion than most Israeli's, she could easily pass for an Arab woman. This was yet another advantage she had as an operative, earning her the nickname "chameleon" from her comrades. Yes, Tovah was something special, and her record was
littered with accolades of her achievements. That's why this was just another mission to her, but it would turnout to be anything but routine.
She had already gathered information on a splinter group of guerillas responsible for sniper attacks on Jewish settlers, and once she knew for certain where their base of operation was, she could report back to her commander the location so an air strike could be ordered. Simple enough, only there was a leak somewhere along the way, and when Tovah went to meet her contact one last time at an apartment, she was hit from behind as she walked into the trap.
When she came to, she was in what appeared to be a warehouse, and from the architecture, she guessed it was in the industrial area of town. She was hanging by her wrists, each handcuffed separately to a steam pipe running above her head. Her 5'8" frame barely enabled the balls of her feet to ouch the ground. She had been stripped of her jacket and of course her weapons, and was now wearing only her khaki pants and black tank top. Her head was now clear as she heard voices outside, and a loud echo in the warehouse as the door opened and slammed shut.
Three men approached, and they looked anything but amused. They gathered around the young operative, and the man in charge gave himself a rude introduction in the form of a hard slap across Tovah's beautiful, exotic face. "We know you are a spy for the Israeli's. What we don't know is how much you know about us, and this you will tell me."
This guy obviously had no idea that this was no ordinary operative. Tovah hardly flinched at the slap, and her blue-grey eyes focused intently on the man, as if to burn his image in her mind, to remember who to add to her list of kills.
"You don't feel like talking? I will make you talk."
The terrorist unloaded a hard left hook directly to Tovah's stomach, but to his surprise, the punch merely bounced off and produced a smirk on his intended victim's face. He pulled her shirt up to see an incredibly chiseled set of abs on this woman. She didn't have a six-pack, she had an eight-pack. Her sinewy, muscular arms should have been a hint that this was not a weak lady, and he would have his work cut out for him. "Oh, you are strong, can take punishment, huh? We'll see how much you can take before you tell me what I want to know."
The man nodded to one of his cohorts, who stepped forward holding a metal pipe. With one wide swing, he crashed the weapon into Tovah's muscular thigh, getting closer to the reaction he wanted. "UUNNGGHH!" She squelched through pursed lips as the pain traveled through her leg and up her spine.
"UUNNNNGGHHH!" Another one, this times a little harder. Her natural toughness and years of training enabled Tovah to ignore the pain to a degree, but her leg was definitely hurting.
The three guerillas cackled to themselves as they saw they were making progress in their administration of pain to their beautiful prisoner. The leader stepped forward again, and swung another left hook, this one landing with a resounding thud on Tovah's ribs, where there was no muscle to shield the blow.
"AAAAUUUGGGHHFFF!!!"
She buckled forward as the sharp blow staggered her, just before he uncorked another powerful shot to the other side of her ribs.
"UUUUUNNNGGGGHHHH!!!"
The agent struggled to contain her breathing, not wanting them to know the extent of their damage to her. "Now, you are very beautiful, why don't you just tell me what you know, and we won't have to hurt you anymore." She was now more insulted than hurt, the nerve of them thinking she would talk. She started to laugh. "You're going to kill me anyway, just get it over with. I won't tell you anything, and if you don't kill me, I'll kill you."
She wasn't just talking out of bravado. Tovah knew if she lived through this, she would kill all of them. This incensed the trio, who briefly whispered amongst themselves. The man with the pipe punched her under the left eye, opening a cut that trickled down her face. He wiped the blood off of his fist with her shirt, and then thrust the pipe lengthwise into her crotch.
"OOOOHHHHLLLLL!!"
Tovah lurched forward, stretching her arms further as the handcuffs snapped her into forced restraint.
"OOOFFFF!!"
The leader dropped a straight right directly on her belly button. She lost air, as her gut was now softened a bit by the rib and crotch blows. The man smiled at the result, and cut loose with four more powerful digs to her stomach, between her navel and solar plexus. She was now panting, trying to establish some kind of breathing rhythm, but to no avail, they had her now.
The man swung the pipe again, the length of it landing across Tovah's lower torso with a sickening thud.
"OOOOUUUUGGGGHHHHFFFFF!!!"
It was like a giant balloon in her belly, swelling with intensity. She had never been violated like this before, and she was fading. The third guerilla produced a knife, and cut her shirt down the middle from the neck down. They could see the beautifully sculpted rows of muscle expand and retract, trying to suck air into her empty body. The leader grabbed a handful of her long, dark hair, and violently jerked her head up. "What do you know about us?"
With what little strength she had, the defiant spy spit in the man's face. He turned to his friends, wiping it off and letting loose with a sinister chuckle as he stepped in with two hard left uppercuts to Tovah's bare belly. The smacking of skin on skin bounced off of the walls of the warehouse, and Tovah grunted loudly as the blows forced the precious air out of her. Another terrorist took his turn, assaulting her midsection with thundering blows, on, above and below her swollen navel. Tovah was hurt, but she knew they would have to kill her, because she would not betray her country.
"Tell me what you know!" The leader was visibly frustrated as he shouted at the beaten woman dangling in front of him.
"F..f..f.u..c..k..y..o.u..." Tovah managed to get in one last verbal barb, much to the terrorist's dislike. He exploded with six powerful punches to her already battered stomach. These were out of anger, not to achieve a successful interrogation. Tovah hung there, gently swaying from the impact of the latest round of punishment. The men went outside after whispering to themselves, and she heard the door slam as she sank into unconsciousness.
She came to, delirious, knowing that any minute they would return to kill her. She was surprised at her state of relaxation, considering the sheer agony she was in and her anticipated execution. She raised her head briefly, studying her outstretched arms, never before taking notice of the soft, dark hair that lightly covered her forearms. She weakly dropped her head, her bruised and beaten midsection in clear view. What a way to go out, she was thinking to herself, right when she heard gunfire break-out and screaming outside. The door to the warehouse flew open, and in dashed soldiers, Israeli soldiers! It was her unit!
Her informant had escaped before she was captured, and contacted the Israeli's with her whereabouts. She filled her aching gut with enough air to let go of a sigh of relief, right as she passed-out again, but knowing she would wake-up on Israeli soil, mission accomplished.
She could feel herself becoming delusional, the harsh experience taking its toll on her mind as well as her battered body. Her arms were aching, as she could feel the cold steel of the handcuffs slicing into her wrists as she felt her limp body getting heavier, her legs now useless for support. She knew the risks of the job, but she never thought she would be in this position. Yet here she was, sure she would be killed when her captors returned. They would have no more use for her, she wouldn't give-up any information, and she would serve no useful purpose in the future.
As she hung there, here mind floated in and out of consciousness, thoughts randomly popping around, making little or no sense. Her bowed head allowed her an easy view of her black, purple, red and blue torso. As blood dripped down her face from the cut under her eye and splashed on her shoulder, she began to count the drops, if only to take her focus away from the painful throbbing her body was feeling.
Tovah was not unlike any other girl growing up in Jerusalem. Her parents were both professors at the university, and like them, she was very bright. She was also athletic, excelled in track and had studied martial arts for almost all of her 29 years, earning her first black belt at the age of 12. She had planned on going into some type of international business while in high school, but after serving her mandatory hitch in the Israeli army when she turned 18, an entire new world opened-up to her. She was intrigued by the armed forces and their role in the Arab conflict. Her superiors were immediately impressed with her, her fighting skills were on the level of the best they already had, and she had a natural prowess with firearms, proving to be a deadly marksman.
She was promoted faster than anyone, male or female, in her class, and knew this was going to be the life for her. She settled into an elite paramilitary unit that focused on infiltrating and destroying Arab guerilla factions. Her mother was Egyptian, so with a darker complexion than most Israeli's, she could easily pass for an Arab woman. This was yet another advantage she had as an operative, earning her the nickname "chameleon" from her comrades. Yes, Tovah was something special, and her record was
littered with accolades of her achievements. That's why this was just another mission to her, but it would turnout to be anything but routine.
She had already gathered information on a splinter group of guerillas responsible for sniper attacks on Jewish settlers, and once she knew for certain where their base of operation was, she could report back to her commander the location so an air strike could be ordered. Simple enough, only there was a leak somewhere along the way, and when Tovah went to meet her contact one last time at an apartment, she was hit from behind as she walked into the trap.
When she came to, she was in what appeared to be a warehouse, and from the architecture, she guessed it was in the industrial area of town. She was hanging by her wrists, each handcuffed separately to a steam pipe running above her head. Her 5'8" frame barely enabled the balls of her feet to ouch the ground. She had been stripped of her jacket and of course her weapons, and was now wearing only her khaki pants and black tank top. Her head was now clear as she heard voices outside, and a loud echo in the warehouse as the door opened and slammed shut.
Three men approached, and they looked anything but amused. They gathered around the young operative, and the man in charge gave himself a rude introduction in the form of a hard slap across Tovah's beautiful, exotic face. "We know you are a spy for the Israeli's. What we don't know is how much you know about us, and this you will tell me."
This guy obviously had no idea that this was no ordinary operative. Tovah hardly flinched at the slap, and her blue-grey eyes focused intently on the man, as if to burn his image in her mind, to remember who to add to her list of kills.
"You don't feel like talking? I will make you talk."
The terrorist unloaded a hard left hook directly to Tovah's stomach, but to his surprise, the punch merely bounced off and produced a smirk on his intended victim's face. He pulled her shirt up to see an incredibly chiseled set of abs on this woman. She didn't have a six-pack, she had an eight-pack. Her sinewy, muscular arms should have been a hint that this was not a weak lady, and he would have his work cut out for him. "Oh, you are strong, can take punishment, huh? We'll see how much you can take before you tell me what I want to know."
The man nodded to one of his cohorts, who stepped forward holding a metal pipe. With one wide swing, he crashed the weapon into Tovah's muscular thigh, getting closer to the reaction he wanted. "UUNNGGHH!" She squelched through pursed lips as the pain traveled through her leg and up her spine.
"UUNNNNGGHHH!" Another one, this times a little harder. Her natural toughness and years of training enabled Tovah to ignore the pain to a degree, but her leg was definitely hurting.
The three guerillas cackled to themselves as they saw they were making progress in their administration of pain to their beautiful prisoner. The leader stepped forward again, and swung another left hook, this one landing with a resounding thud on Tovah's ribs, where there was no muscle to shield the blow.
"AAAAUUUGGGHHFFF!!!"
She buckled forward as the sharp blow staggered her, just before he uncorked another powerful shot to the other side of her ribs.
"UUUUUNNNGGGGHHHH!!!"
The agent struggled to contain her breathing, not wanting them to know the extent of their damage to her. "Now, you are very beautiful, why don't you just tell me what you know, and we won't have to hurt you anymore." She was now more insulted than hurt, the nerve of them thinking she would talk. She started to laugh. "You're going to kill me anyway, just get it over with. I won't tell you anything, and if you don't kill me, I'll kill you."
She wasn't just talking out of bravado. Tovah knew if she lived through this, she would kill all of them. This incensed the trio, who briefly whispered amongst themselves. The man with the pipe punched her under the left eye, opening a cut that trickled down her face. He wiped the blood off of his fist with her shirt, and then thrust the pipe lengthwise into her crotch.
"OOOOHHHHLLLLL!!"
Tovah lurched forward, stretching her arms further as the handcuffs snapped her into forced restraint.
"OOOFFFF!!"
The leader dropped a straight right directly on her belly button. She lost air, as her gut was now softened a bit by the rib and crotch blows. The man smiled at the result, and cut loose with four more powerful digs to her stomach, between her navel and solar plexus. She was now panting, trying to establish some kind of breathing rhythm, but to no avail, they had her now.
The man swung the pipe again, the length of it landing across Tovah's lower torso with a sickening thud.
"OOOOUUUUGGGGHHHHFFFFF!!!"
It was like a giant balloon in her belly, swelling with intensity. She had never been violated like this before, and she was fading. The third guerilla produced a knife, and cut her shirt down the middle from the neck down. They could see the beautifully sculpted rows of muscle expand and retract, trying to suck air into her empty body. The leader grabbed a handful of her long, dark hair, and violently jerked her head up. "What do you know about us?"
With what little strength she had, the defiant spy spit in the man's face. He turned to his friends, wiping it off and letting loose with a sinister chuckle as he stepped in with two hard left uppercuts to Tovah's bare belly. The smacking of skin on skin bounced off of the walls of the warehouse, and Tovah grunted loudly as the blows forced the precious air out of her. Another terrorist took his turn, assaulting her midsection with thundering blows, on, above and below her swollen navel. Tovah was hurt, but she knew they would have to kill her, because she would not betray her country.
"Tell me what you know!" The leader was visibly frustrated as he shouted at the beaten woman dangling in front of him.
"F..f..f.u..c..k..y..o.u..." Tovah managed to get in one last verbal barb, much to the terrorist's dislike. He exploded with six powerful punches to her already battered stomach. These were out of anger, not to achieve a successful interrogation. Tovah hung there, gently swaying from the impact of the latest round of punishment. The men went outside after whispering to themselves, and she heard the door slam as she sank into unconsciousness.
She came to, delirious, knowing that any minute they would return to kill her. She was surprised at her state of relaxation, considering the sheer agony she was in and her anticipated execution. She raised her head briefly, studying her outstretched arms, never before taking notice of the soft, dark hair that lightly covered her forearms. She weakly dropped her head, her bruised and beaten midsection in clear view. What a way to go out, she was thinking to herself, right when she heard gunfire break-out and screaming outside. The door to the warehouse flew open, and in dashed soldiers, Israeli soldiers! It was her unit!
Her informant had escaped before she was captured, and contacted the Israeli's with her whereabouts. She filled her aching gut with enough air to let go of a sigh of relief, right as she passed-out again, but knowing she would wake-up on Israeli soil, mission accomplished.