Agents of Love

Torture

Marta awoke to the sound of dripping of water. She blinked slowly, her eyes unable to make out her surroundings in the pitch black. What if I'm blind? She allowed herself a moment of panic. Her arms and shoulders ached, her hands were numb, and she was tied. Hanging just above the floor if she stood on tiptoes she could just take a bit of the pressure from her bindings. She whimpered softly as she remembered. The hotel, the man, the truck. Antony!

"Marta?" His soft voice was like an answered prayer.

Taking a deep breath she tried to compose herself before she answered. "Antony? Where are we?"

"I'm not sure." He answered honestly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm tied, and my head hurts like the devil." She whispered back.

"I'm chained against a wall. I can feel bars to my left. We must be at some type of jail." He rattled his manacles. "Bloody heavy."

Marta felt tears of hopelessness well in her eyes. Stubbornly she blinked them back, even in the darkness she must remain calm. "Antony, I'm so sorry. If this goes badly, don't show emotion okay?"

Understanding dawned on him and he cursed softly under his breath. "Marta, I love you." He whispered, instantly regretting letting the words slip past his lips. This shouldn't be the place I finally tell her. He thought ruefully. Ater lack of response he hoped she had not heard him.

Marta let out a deep sigh, willing her heart to stop racing. "I love you too." She whispered back. "Shhhh... Someone is coming." She smiled at his curse. Schooling her features into her trademark aloof beauty and hardening herself for what was to come.

Muffled footfalls echoed down the hallway and an opening door filled the corridor with light. Both Marta and Antony squinted at the sudden brightness.

Marta watched as the three SS officers made their way down the narrow hall. They stopped at the front of her cell. Peter Morwitz was among them. "Hello my lovely." He greeted her with a smile.

Marta glared at him, lifting her chin to stare down at him her eyes icy with hatred. She resisted the urge to spit at him. Her hands had lost all feeling. With them tied above her head she felt vunerable, unable to protect herself. Still she tried to roll her shoulders back in defiance. Pain shot down her back.

"Cut her down." Peter grinned at her, if it were on any other man, in any other place, it would have been alluring. But n him, it was dangerous. One of the men opened her cell and moved to quickly carry out his order.

Marta tried to hold herself up, but as soon as the rope was cut she sagged to the floor. Pain stinging in her arms and hands as the circulation returned.

The man seized her beneath her arms and yanked her up. She stumbled along as he pushed her out into the corridor. She cast a last look to the right, just making out Antony's shape in the back of the cell. His arms shackled to the back wall. Both his arms were behind him his shoulders and back muscles bulgng as he pulled against his bonds. Straining at his chains to get closer to her. For just one last look.

She met his eyes for only a split second, trying to convey without words all that remained unsaid between the two of them. I love you, I've always loved you. I just wish I was worthy of you.

She was pushed roughly into yet another dark room. Illuminated by just a single naked bulb, it held a chair, a table and a large cabinet. The room smelled strongly of copper. Blut.
Peter saw the momentary flash of fear in her eyes and he chuckled. "Leave us Deitrich. You and Ludwig may question the other prisoner." He commanded.

"Yes sir." The man replied before quietly closing the door behind himself. The soft click of a lock sent shivers down her spine. She was locked in a room with a predator.

He was on her in an instant, his hands rough as he pushed her face down on the table. Her bound hands before her trapped under her body as he pressed her down. His breath, while not foul caused bile to rise in her throat as he whispered against her neck. "How would you like to do this my beauty?"

"Go to hell." She hissed.

He chuckled again as he grabbed a fist full of her thick blonde hair. "We are going to have fun, you and I." Then he slammed her face into the tabletop.

Stunned, Marta went limp as she battled to remain concious. She couldn't move as he bound her hands to a metal ring beneath the table, then he tied each of her ankles to a leg of the table. Her torso rested across the tabletop, her elbows slightly bent beneath her chest and her bottom and back woefully exposed. She clasped her hands together tightly as he ran his hands over her red silk clad back. She heard the whisper of a knife leaving the scabbard and then felt the tip of it against the exposed skin of her neck.

He trailed the knife over her exposed skin stopping where her dress began. He began to cut away the silk, baring her to his greedy gaze. When she lay there helpless and vunerable before him he sheathed his knife and carressed her creamy white skin almost reverently. "It really is a shame." He tutted. "You and I could have made quite a pair." She heard the jingle of him fumbling with his belt.

It doesn't matter. She thought to herself. I've endured worse for my country.

Then the belt came down on the flesh of her back, buckle first. She screamed.