"Another long day, Manuel?" She asked.
"Another long day, floración delicada." He took the beer she offered to him, and drank deeply.
"Yes! Yes, I have, Elena. Tomorrow. Finally. I have a man you can use. I hope this means you will stop begging!" Manuel plopped down on his leather couch and turned on the TV.
Elena gaped in surprise and delight. "You really did? You have a man for me? To play with, to do what I want to?"
"Yes, my dear. I have a man. He has been interrogated and information extracted. It is unlikely he will ever be released, so he can be yours now."
"I hope they didn't damage him too much, you know I want someone in good shape, someone that still is--"
"He's in pretty good shape. Broke fairly easily and began babbling. He's been in a cell recovering for the last week and will be in fine shape for you to do whatever... weird things you have in mind."
Manuel was aware that his wife had a perverse streak. It was what had first attracted this gorgeous girl to a middle aged jailer. She was fascinated with prisons, iron shackles, interrogations, and all things prison related. After their first meeting, she had thrown herself at him, but had used her relationship to find out more and more about the prison where he worked, and had even taken several tours. She enjoyed seeing the men and women locked up, abused, suffering. It made her wet.
But ever since their wedding, she had pushed him for more access to the prison. He was the head jailer, after all. He should be able to arrange anything. Like a private session with a man, one in which she could teach herself interrogation techniques, perhaps even create new ones.
It was a bit weird, but Manuel was learning to accept his new bride's quirks.
And now, he had finally arranged what she had been pushing for. Her own prisoner to interrogate, to torture, to play with. If the government ever found out what he was doing... well, they wouldn't. No one cared what went on inside Árbol Colgante prison.
"His name's Franco, if that matters to you," said the guard, opening the door to the cell. The hallway was brightly lit, with concrete walls painted a light green up to waist level, and then grey above that. The paint was peeling. The cell door was metal, and there was a small eyepiece allowing viewing of the inside.
Elena entered the cell where the prisoner was laying on a table, his legs tied to the table legs at the bottom, his wrists tied securely to ropes that stretched his arms above his head and spread them out a bit, tied to the other two table legs. There was a single strap across his waist.
"No, I don't suppose it does," she said. She carried a small satchel with her, a leather bag that had one time carried medical instruments. It was her grandfathers.
"Leave us. I will be fine. I will call you if I need anything."
The guard looked dubiously at the man and then at Elena, but closed the door behind him.
Franco had raised his head and looked at Elena. His eyes were big and he made a noise. "Oh, Mamacita... did I die and go to heaven? Come here baby, let me see what Franco can do for you!"
Elena ignored the man, pulling a simple chair from the corner, placing it at the foot of the table and sat down.
"Baby... you are giving me a hard on! Do something about it, puta! Give me some sweetness, let me see those perfect breasts of yours!"
Elena reached into her bag and pulled out a set of sheers, large industrial strength things. She calmly began cutting the man's right pants leg.
"What are you doing, puta? Can't wait to get to my pico, eh baby? Come..."
The scissors had made their way to the man's groin and cut to his waist. She then started on the other leg, ignoring the insults, insinuations and outright offers for sex that poured from the prisoner's mouth.
A couple of minutes later Elena yanked hard and the man's ragged pants slipped away, cut to pieces.
With Franco's legs spread wide it was easy to get to his genitals. Elena scooted the chair in a bit. Franco had an erection, he had gotten it the moment she had walked in. She did that to a lot of men.
She took a bit of duct tape and taped the member to the man's stomach.
"Whoa... piruja, stroke it a bit. You have me hard. Touch me some more, babe! Let me out of these ropes and I will let you touch it more!"
Elena reached to the man's scrotum and picked it up.
"Careful babe..." Franco now had a worried tone in his voice.
She ran her fingers and thumb over the bag of flesh, feeling it gently. She had felt men before, of course, but not this freely. She always had to make sure she didn't hurt them, and it was always part of sex play. She could never spend the time actually feeling, investigating, learning about the anatomy.
Elena was listening, not because she intended to talk to Franco but because she was fascinated with how he was reacting. What caused him pain? How much? Where? She needed to listen to his reactions, get to know him, in order to understand the nuances of what she intended to do to him.
She started by pressing. Simply applying pressure to various locations. The right testicle was first; she applied a moderate pressure and Franco tensed up and swore. She released and he continued swearing. The same pressure was applied to the left testicle. The swearing continued, but acquired a slight edge of panic. Franco was realizing this "puta" was not there to bring him pleasure. Quite the contrary.
Pressing on the scrotum itself didn't seem to do much. It was just flesh.
Pressing on them got the same reaction as the testicles, interestingly enough. Franco jerked and strained against his restraints, swearing up a storm and adding in some words of pleading. Elena was pleased.
Then came pressure on different areas of the testicle. She had thought they were simply round globs without one side or another; this wasn't true. As she felt around Franco's genitals she realized the testicles were oblong, and had one side where the stringy vessel things attached.
Based on Franco's sudden screams, right there was a good place to invoke pain. Elena grinned as Franco's legs writhed and strained on either side of her face, but his genitals, his balls... they were in her hands and went nowhere.
The edges. Flicking her fingers along the edges of the testicles, that was good. The prisoner was writhing constantly now, swearing and begging for her to stop.
She checked the clock on the wall. It had been twenty minutes. Plenty of time left. It was hot though, she was used to the air conditioned house, the luxury she had at home. The prison was dank, humid, and hotter than the streets.
Elena pulled her shirt off, revealing the perfect breasts that Franco had lusted over a few minutes before. He saw her and clear lust filled his eyes, it couldn't be wiped away by the pain he had experienced, but he was no longer aroused.
Franco began making slight thrusting motions with his hips, moaning. "Yes... yes, baby... " This was Elena's signal to stop the stimulation and move on to the next phase.
She removed a set of nails and hammer from her medical bag. It wasn't a big hammer, but perfectly sized and balanced for her small, feminine hand.
She stretched his scrotum out, pulling the flesh as hard as she could. This distressed Franco a lot, but she got the feeling it wasn't actually a lot of pain. Until she struck the first nail, of course.
It didn't go all the way through the flesh. Apparently skin is a rather tough material. She had misjudged. Franco continued struggling, begging her now more than swearing. She wondered how much his begging was the lingering pain from her testicle play, and how much was simply fear of what was coming next.
A second attempt brought better results. The nail pierced the scrotum flesh and drove into the wood of the table below. Good job, Elena!
Now the scrotum was stretched out permanently she didn't have to pull on it all the time to keep it in place. She lifted and positioned another nail, pulled the flesh tight, and the hammer came down, piercing and nailing poor Franco to the table. It was clearly very distressing, but not that painful.
Then again, distress was part of what she wanted to explore. She wanted to see what would cause pain, but also what would cause fear and horror, things that would bring a man to his knees as a slave, obedient.
Elena was still sweating, in spite of removing her shirt. Her bare flesh glistened. It must be over 100 degrees in the windowless concrete room. Elena slid her pants off, so she was wearing nothing but her panties now. She didn't care she was exposing herself to Franco, perhaps it would add just a bit to his torment.
With the scrotum pulled tight, the testicles were two slight bulges in the flat skin surface.
Time to nail them, as well.
A nail was positioned above one lump, and Franco was screaming now; he knew what was coming and was willing to do anything to stop it.
"Please, no, I will tell all! I lied before, I have the names, and the addresses! I will tell all, I will tell all!!!"
Manuel had been right. This one was broken easily, she decided as the hammer descended and the nail pierced the scrotum but slid off the slippery solidity of the testicle, scratching it as it went.
"AAAAAAAAAHHHGGG.... OOOOWWHHHAAFFGGGGGGGgg....." the scream was most satisfying to Elena. She stood to look at Franco's face for the first time, and simply watched the shades of agony flip past.
"Pleaaaaasseee!!! NO!!!" Franco began to gasp out the details of some attack that was to take place... somewhere. Elena didn't care. She wasn't there to interrogate and obtain information. Not this kind of information, at least.
Try again with the nail. This time she pressed the point of the nail into the testicle with her hand a bit, held the testicle in place with fingers, and then hammered one hard blow. The nail pierced the globule of tissue, but did not penetrate the wood below. That took another couple of strokes.
Standing back, Elena viewed her handiwork. Franco was sobbing now, jerking around but being more careful about it, as he knew he was nailed to the table.
Elena repeated the process with the other testicle, placing the nail point into the soft tissue, then with three hard whacks driving it through and into the wood beneath.
Franco's screams were satisfying, and she felt the wetness between her legs that had been building since she walked into the cell. She could hardly contain herself, she wanted to masturbate. She reached down, hand slipping beneath her panties and finding the soft wetness there. Her nipples were already hard, her cunt wet, her clit engorged.
Torturing this man had aroused Elena, her body preparing itself for sex. Elena obliged, massaging her cunt, rubbing her clit, watching the man before her writhe and struggle as he moaned and begged for mercy.
She stopped before reaching orgasm, though. She had something special in mind.
She stripped off her panties, and was now completely nude. She straddled Franco's head, and lowered her pussy slowly down onto the agonized man's face.
In spite of the pain in his genitals, Franco knew what was happening. This gorgeous angel was placing her naked cunt at his disposal to eat. He found he had no desire. The pain, the agony he was in was too much and he tried to turn his head away.
Elena grabbed his hair, forced his head back up his fact pointing to the lips of her cunt and she pressed down onto him.
He tried to accommodate as best he could. His tongue came out, he moved and sucked. But he was in agony, the pain was still consuming him, his balls had been nailed to the table!
Elena demanded, and pressed down harder, smashing against his face. He began to rock, sliding her cunt back and forth on her victim's face, using him to pleasure herself.
Franco could not breathe. Elena was smashing down and covering his mouth and nose. The need for air began to become more urgent than the pain in his groin and he struggled. Elena hung on and pinched her strong thighs closed, squeezing his head between them.
Beneath her ass Elena could feel her victim's chest heaving, trying to get air. She found this even more arousing, and simply pushed down harder. Her cunt enveloped Franco's face, covering his nose, her asshole smashing against his chin.
Spots formed in front of Franco's eyes. Eyesight was dim. Elena continued rubbing, using Franco's struggles to stimulate her cunt and clit; Franco was losing consciousness.
Was this the way he would die? His eyes looked up, past the flat stomach of the beauty above him, past her perfect breasts, to the angelic face that looked down at him, framed by her long dark hair.
As his eyesight and consciousness faded, he felt the contractions, the shudders of this woman going through a climax of sexual pleasure.
Elena felt the flood of warm orgasm and stayed where she was until it was completely gone. She then slid off the man's face. She noted he was unconscious, perhaps dead. She sighed. She had never had such an amazing orgasm...
That evening Manuel Rivera lay in bed with his wife. They had finished dinner, and then made love. Elena had been a tigress, as she usually was. An amazing sex partner. Though Manuel could sense something a bit different. She was harder, more demanding. And her orgasm was sharper, more prolonged. He himself had cum especially hard feeling the wildcat that twisted and writhed that he tried to control as he thrust into her.
"The guards obtained significantly more information from Franco this afternoon," he finally said. "Apparently he had held out on them. Your interrogation was more effective."
Elena snorted a laugh. "I didn't interrogate him. I just had some fun learning about men and their bodies."
Manuel nodded thoughtfully. His wife actually scared him a bit. She was only nineteen...
"Is he alive?" she asked. "I couldn't tell when I left."
"Yes, barely. He spoke while recovering in the infirmary. Apparently you have a new name that is spreading through the prison."
Elena, whose head was resting on her husband's naked chest, looked up at his face questioningly.
"Demonia del Arbol Colgante" he said. "Demoness of Hanging Tree Prison."