“I don’t know where he is! I swear! No! NOOOO! IEEEARRGGGHHHH!” Scribonia screamed as the metal pliers slammed shut, crushing her already sore and bruised nipple in its grip. “LET GOOOOOOOO!”
“Tell us where Antonius is. He’s your husband! You expect us to believe that you had nothing to do with his plot to assassinate the Emperor?” The interrogator asked, twisting Scribonia’s nipple while pulling it further and further from her heaving breast.
“I DON’T KNOW I DON’T KNOWWWWWW!”
“You fucking useless slut…” He said, releasing the pliers.
“Oh thank you, thank you.” Scribonia sobbed in relief, watching as her nipple began to swell and turn dark red…
“Give her another stroke across those fat tits.”
SSCCCHWWWAPPPP!
“YYIEEAARRRGGGHHHH!”
“Once again, Scribonia, give me locations. Where would he go? Who are his friends?”
“Let me think, let me think! Please… please just give me a second… I… I just need a second.”
The interrogator nodded to his assistant.
THUCCCKKK!
The heavy cane went slamming into the tops of her trembling thighs.
“NNNIEEEARRGH! OOOHHHHHHHH! STTTOOPPPPP!” Scribonia wailed, her body heaving and thrashing against the restraints holding her down.
“Oh, seems like your thighs are a tender area…” The interrogator smiled, placing the pliers against the milky flesh of her inner thighs…
