Dishonoured beauty : Part 3

(Part 1 from 1)

Dominique had been kept in Dubois's apartment since her lover's arrest. While Dan Patterson was beaten and starved in a dirty prison cell, she serviced the man who was interrogating him. Dubois wanted not only to get the secrets from his prisoner but also make an example of him. While he'd so far resisted the torture, the French spy master knew that every man broke in the end. The whip and red hot irons loosened any tongue.

Chained to a wall, filthy, bruised and cut, Patterson tried to remain defiant. However, the mistreatment was weakening him. His jailer and torturer was Gaston Girard - a swarthy bearded bastard with a scarred face who enjoyed inflicting pain. "You going to squeal yankee when I get the whip on you," he growled, kicking Dan. "The Colonel is fucking your little whore and she's enjoying it. When he finished we'll all have our cocks up her. Me and the boys are first after the officers have their fucks." He laughed. The taunts about Dominique were meant to undermine Patteson along with the abuse.

Dubois told him what lay ahead. "You can save a lot of pain by telling us everything. A public confession in the square with names of the traitors and then you can beg for your life." Patterson glared back at him. "Fuck you," he replied. Dubois sighed. "Very well it will be the whipping post and the irons. No one keeps silent after that." Girard grinned. "I'll have him screaming like a little girl, my Colonel."

Outside the cell, Girard asked about Dominique. "I want the girl, Colonel. Me and the boys. When can we play with her." Dubois looked at the torturer, feeling very sorry for Dominique. "She goes to the officers house first. Then the sargeants will enjoy her. You will be first if you make her lover sing." "I'll do that alright, sir, Never fear."

Dubois had only two more days with Dominique before he must hand her over to the brothel. There was no choice. His fellow officers were impatient to sample the girl. Then she faced the lower ranks such as Girard. A barrack whore for the soldiers.

He spent all the time he could bedding the beauty. She was still so soft and niave. Not for much longer, he thought as he thrust his cock in and out. Dominique was unaware that Dan was to be publicly whipped until the morning of the punishment. "Today you must brace yourself for unpleasantness," said Dubois. "Patterson is to be punished in the square for being a spy. He has refused to reveal information so he'll be forced to do so with the whip and irons." "No," cried Dominique. "You promised to spare him. You lied. No please." He has not cooperated. There is no choice. He'll not be killed if he pleads for mercy." Dominique was crying and pleading. "Be quiet. Control yourself." She was in agony. The thought of her handsome lover being publicly tortured made her feel sick and she ran to vomit in a bucket.

Dazed and weak she crouched on the floor trembling. "Come," said Dubois. "You must prepare. You will have to witness his punishment" Dominique did not know what he meant but there was a knock on the door and a middle aged woman entered carrying a bag. "This is Madame Madeline LeClerc," said Dubois. "She is in charge of the officers brothel. You will be going there after the punishment"

Dominique stared at the hard faced woman. "Get up girl," she ordered. Dominique obeyed. The madam knew the girl was trouble. The men were like dogs on heat waiting their turns. It was always like this with a "special new one." Only last month the capture of a Mexican general's wife and her daughters had caused great problems for her. An hysterical mother and screaming girls who were forced to service the officers. The mother had to watch as her girls were deflowered as she was violated over a table. Now they were broken in and working the brothel like the other women. This one would learn the trade like them

"Right. Clean yourself up. You're going to be on display today." said the madam. Dominique was forced to sit before a mirror while the woman gave her a quick wipe down with a wet towel, then applied thick red lipstick and rouge to her face and combed her hair, " Right put this on," she said taking a red and black trimmed corset out of the the bag. Dominique obeyed and then had the corset tightly laced up, making it hard for her to breath, breasts thrust out by the cups. She had to put on black stockings and then a pair of six inch high heels.

"Good, turn round," ordered the madam. Dominique realised she was dressed like a whore awaiting a customer. But she was frightened. "You'll do," said the madam. Outside the noise was growing in the square. People flowed in to watch the spectacle, packed around four sides behind lines of soldiers. Dubois put out his arm. "We will go on the balcony." Dominique stared back. "Like this?No I must have a dress." "You are a putta now. There is no need for modesty," he replied. "Today you go to the officers whorehouse. You will be showing off your wares from now on in public."

Dominique blanched, eyes welling with tears."Behave girl. You better get used to your new trade," said the madam. Dubois took her arm and led her onto the balcony. All eyes turned to them as they appeared. The sun glinted off Dominique's exposed body. There was an explosion of noise from the men, while the watching women tut tutted and uttered words of disgust. Whistles and crude shouts filled the air.


Dominique stood humiliated, head bowed, sweating as the noise washed over her. The hungry eyes devoured her, cocks hardening as they viewed the gorgeous body. Dubois put an arm around her waist. "Now it is time to see that your man is not such a hero after all," he said

He signalled and Patterson was dragged out into the square between two hulking guards. He was naked apart from tattered trousers, and his dirty body covered in welts and bruises. Waiting at the whipping post was Girard. "Well, time to show us how brave you are, eh," he grinned. Taking him by the hair he pulled up his face to look at Dominique on the balcony. "Your whore certainly looking after herself. Going to the officers knocking shop today. Every man in this army is going to fuck her before she's finished."

His eyes met Dominique, her face anguished as she looked down at him, tears running from her eyes. "Please stop this," she begged Dubois. "He can end it by confessing. I will give him the chance."

He signalled for quiet from the excited crowd. "This man is a traitor. He has sold secrets which have caused the deaths of many french men. He now has the choice to tell us his secrets and beg for mercy, or face the whip and hot irons. Patterson will you reveal your fellow traitors?" "Merde," shouted back Patterson. "Very well. You will soon be screaming for mercy." "Hope you were going to say that yankee shit," grinned Girard. Stepping back he flexed the big bull whip which was lined with metal studs. He'd skinned many men alive and knew few lasted long under the lash.

Patterson was tied tightly to the post and braced himself. Then heard the whistle of the rawhide through the air before it cracked into his back. The pain was worse than he'd imagined as the flesh was torn away. He twisted on the post, gritting his teeth. Dominique cried out, trying to look away but Dubois forced her to watch. Again and again the whip made a bloody mess of his back. He was on fire with pain. It took all his courage not to scream out for it to stop. Ten times he was flayed until his back and buttocks were a mass of blood.

Girard had expected him to break before now as he put all his strength into the blows. He knew the american was near to the end of his endurance. While the whip inflicted terrible damage, an assistant was heating branding irons before Patterson's eyes. Still he smothered his cries of pain. Dubois was anxious he did not die under the torture. He signalled for the irons,

"No," pleaded Dominique. "Not that." She dug her fingernails into his hand. Girard dropped his whip. Walking to the fire he picked up one of the irons and held it in front of Patterson's face. "OK cunt where do you want this, eh. Shitting yourself now eh," he laughed. He could see the fear in the American's eyes.

Going behind him he toyed with the red hot brand and then thrust it into the ruined back. His victim screamed as his flesh sizzled and he twisted on the ropes. The pain was too much. "No more," he shouted. "Didn't hear please," said Girard. "Please no more," begged Patterson.

"OK names of traitors." demanded Girard. A broken Patterson began to babble out the information. A crying Dominique watched along with the crowd. It was a good example to would-be traitors, thought Dubois. He'd never liked the arrogant American and had enjoyed seeing him humbled.

Cut down from the post, Patterson was made to kneel and beg for mercy.
"Very well. You shall be spared for the road gangs. Take him away." ordered Dubois. He was dragged back to his cell. The spymaster guided Dominique into the room as she cried and threw herself on the bed. He turned to the madam. "Come back in an hour for her," he said.

The woman left. The excitement had given Dubois a massive hard on.

Dominque's tight ass lay before him as she cried on the bed. Pushing down his trousers, he mounted her from behind, tearing away the brief silk knickers. She groaned as he forced his cock into her anus and thrust high. He sodomised her brutally, making the most of his last opportunity to fuck her. Given the choice, he'd have kept her but knew that after today she'd hate him. Anyway, there was no choice. The officers had already drawn lots for their turns with her. She would be very busy in the next weeks. With a final few thrusts he came inside her and rolled off. Dominique lay face buried in the bed with his hot seed trickling out of her, absolutely shattered by what she'd seen. Ahead lay even worse.

To be continued...

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