Her name was as with many others was forgotten but in this case the interrogator came to know her as Linda. He stood at the door of the room watching as they brought her down the stairs, her wrists bound behind her, naked. He could see the stark fear on her face, the look in her eyes as He had many times before as she was brought to the door, the papers signed and released into His custody. He had over time come to know every nuance of the female mind and body when they were brought here for questioning and He had learned to ignore each of them as they passed through this door way into His realm of questions and pain. He studied her face as He took her arm feeling her resistance as the guards closed the door with a soft thud.

He listened to her strained breathing as He led her around the object soon to bring her such subtle torment and hours of unending suffering, took her and made her sit in a straight back hard wooden chair. Sitting Himself at the desk He ignored how she fidgeted with the ropes that held her wrists so tightly and squirmed in the chair as he pulled out a form, took a pen and filed out the needed information the turning to her he asked “ Your full name.” She stopped squirming long enough to look over to Him saying, “ Linda Adams,” He wrote it down then asked her age which she told Him was 34. He wrote that she had been married with one child a daughter 3 now separated, worked for a printing company and lived in the center of the city. She was 5’ 7” tall, weighed in at 133 lbs, red shoulder length hair, no scars or tattoos. He sat there filling out the rest of the form then signed it and placed it inside a 9 x 12 envelope placing it in a tray. He then opened the desk drawer and pulled out a set of leather cuffs hearing from her a soft gasp as He placed them on the desk moving His chair around a bit he told her to lift her right foot up. Hesitatingly she did so He taking her ankle in His hand, feeling her leg tense up a small gasp escape from her as He picks up the restraint and slips it over her foot and down to her ankle snugging it, motioning with His hand for her to do the same with the other applying the restraint the same way. He then stood up holding out His hand to her telling her to stand. She did so nervously shuddering as He took her arm and lead her across the room to the device taking her around to the far end of it letting her stand there a moment as He always did just before the interrogation started.

He stood there studying her, the expression on her face as she looked down at the device, the way He could see her mind working, starting to comprehend what was to happen. He had watched it a thousand times and each of their responses was different, each unique to the device and its application. He waited another few minutes watching her start to squirm as she looked at it then at Him her big brown eyes pleading a silent plead then stepped to her saying as he took her arm, “ Stand on your toes and walk about half way down then stop.” She looked at Him with that look of finality in her eyes that told Him that they were never really ready, watched as she stood up on her toes and started to walk, letting out frightened little soft gasping sobs as she felt the cold steel graze the softness and warmth of her inner thighs, let out a little sob as He told her to stop.

He tapped her leg just near her hip and told her to sit down. She looked at Him in fear her body trembling a she made her first tentative attempt to sit, let out a loud sobbing gasp as she felt the cold edge of the angle iron touch her perineum, that tender warm area between her anus and vagina, watched how she gasped and shuddered as she struggled to stand again up right on her toes, the look on her face imploring Him not to make her do so and again felt the tap, saw the look and again struggled to sit.

With a short sharp snap of the crop that He held in His hand behind him He caressed her hip again, the blow biting and hot on her flesh, the sternness in His voice telling her to sit, seeing the fear & pain etched into her features as she struggled to comply, her mind and soul fighting the demand, her heart beating wildly in her breast as she struggled gasping and sobbing to sit on the cruel iron, slowly settling, gasping as she felt the cruel sharp iron touch her tenderness a small sob escaping from her as she stood on her toes again, her lower lip quivering as she looked at Him, saw the crop and closing her eyes, sucking in her breath she again began to sit on the cruel, cold sharp iron beam, shuddering as she slowly let her self down on it, a groan escaping from her as the coldness of the iron met her soft warm flesh.

He watched her struggle with the device externally and seeing her inward turmoil etched on her pretty features, watched as she sought ways to eleviate the discomfort and pain to come of her full weight soon to rest upon the thin edge of the iron. He watched as she bent her head and let out a sob as she slowly lowered her self to it, her body shuddering as the cold angle iron touched her flesh as she settled momentarily on it, not giving up her full weight as he feet still touched the floor her legs bend at the knees supporting herself from the irons cruelty. He smiled as He turned from her for a few minutes walking across the room to a small table and the cupboard over it opening the door he took down the odd shaped object and placed it on the table grasping the end He pushed it over to where she was stopping just in front of her, turning and studying her for a few minutes, then said as she struggled with the nuance of the device and her own growing fear, “ It is time to start now.”

His words cut like a knife into her as she watched Him touch the hour glass saying that and moving to her crouching down grasping her left ankle moving it up making her shift her weight to one leg, feeling some of her 133 lbs shift and dig into the cruel cold angle iron, felt Him lift her ankle up and secure it to the sturdy metal clip at the side and behind the support leg of the device. She shuddered , sucking her breath feeling the cruel iron touch her knowing deep inside of the suffering she would face shortly. He stood up and moved around to her right side crouching again feeling Him grasp her ankle, a strangled sob leaving her soft lips as she felt Him forcefully start to pull her ankle up, felt her entire weight now settle on the cruel edge of the iron, this time groaning a she settled, trying not to shift, broken sobs issuing from her as she did so as gently as she could, but finding even the slightest of moves sent pain coursing through her. She tried to sit as still as she could holding her breath not to move, even the slightest, but try as she might it was to no avail as any move brought her agony.

She blinked through her tears looking in His direction a she heard Him speaking struggling to understand the pain she was now feeling and hear His words which seemed far off almost lost distorted…………………..the growing pain filtering out His words ” glass that has 2 hours of sand in it. At the end o……………..……the sharpness of the iron slowly cutting into her tenderness………... will start the questioning.” He turned and tipped the hour glass up on its other end the sand slowly trickling out through the small pinch point in the glasses center, walked the door opened it and left closing it the sound of the lock like a gunshot.

A strangled sob left her lips as she tried to settle to the iron, tried to shift her weight, ease the pressure and growing agony of the cold steel slowly digging into the tender flesh between her legs. Each movement no matter how small brought to her fresh tears and small agonies that now started to tax her thinking. She peered over at the hour glass looking a the slow trickle of sand seemingly to her now to be moving so slow almost in her own mind one grain at a time. She blinked through her tears as she felt her weight shift slightly the iron dig in a bit more as she settled then found a spot that to her gave some relief, slight but some. She tried to flex her mind from the feel of the metal, the coldness of it and the room, struggling to refocus on something more, finding she could not.

She again looked at the glass blinking back her tears a strangled sob escaping from her as the chill of the room enveloped her making her shiver astride the cruel coldness of the steel iron digging in a she shivered, fighting the scream that was welling up deep inside, feeling the sharpness slowly grind into her tender flesh as she let the scream out in a slow protracted wail, building into a scream that echoed and reverberated off the walls of this room in hell.

She struggled hard against her shivering body, working deep to control it, blanking her mind as much as she could against the onslaught of pain that was a constant now, fighting to maintain her sanity from the cruelness of the iron that with each movement no matter how small or slight sent shivers coursing through her brining fresh salty tears to her soft brown eyes , fighting deep inside for that bit of control, that tiny saving amount that would diminish the quivers and shivering, give her some solace, finding some, a brief respite………her tortured whirling mind settling, trying to focus and ease the pain that coursed through her in slow riding waves, the peaks high, making her shudder and groan, the valleys deep bringing forth deep wracking sobs as she struggled to find the point of balance from this hellish device that inflicted such cruelness to her, her body and mind and soul. She looked again at the glass, seeing in horror that the amount of sand that filled the bottom was to her mind now seemingly less as she closed her eyes letting the tears run freely down her cheeks hang for a few seconds from her chin then drop and land onto the tops of her breasts sliding down to her nipples pooling.

She struggled less now, having found a balance, a place of some security as false as it was, a place she could find some relief from the constant knawing agony of the iron, even if only for a few seconds at a time.

She closed her eyes, her mind wandering back to that meeting in the square, those words she had heard which meant nothing to her as she listened intent only on going about her daily business only to be stopped by a man who had thrust into her hand a pamphlet then had in a quickness moved away from her to disappear into the crowd, stopping to look, merely looking barley getting the first paragraph read when she heard the yelling behind her turning to see the police in full riot gear storming into the crowd, truncheons flailing, the curses, cries, screams as she turned back only to feel the hardness of a baton strike her hard in the lower back bringing her to her knees her mind screaming in pain from it. Feeling the roughness of them as they yanked her arms behind her the coldness of the steel cuffs on her flesh, feeling her self being lifted, carried struggling, hearing the cries more, the darkness of the truck inside open to her then thrust inside, shackled to others some dazed and confused others railing invictives to their captors they only later being singled out for further questioning.

She with the rest rode back to the Police Headquarters taken down stairs and split into groups, seperated some in theses cells some in others. She like others asked time and time again to speak to someone as this to her was a huge mistake, unwarrented in being here, held for what reason until the guards came and started culling from the crowd, taking some this way some that, some down into the darker places behind the heavy black iron door, her fear mounting as she became one of that few.

She with a few others ended up in what the wording over the door said as she was hustled roughly into the room P2 made to sit on a hard bench her wrists and ankles shackled together with the others. The hours seemed to drag by until 2 of the guards came, taking each one at a time to the end of the room in through a door that lead God knows where she felt. She sat and shivered in cold and fear as over the hours they came 2 at a time taking them, some figthing it, some resigned to it.

They came for her being third last, pulled her from the bench against her protests, their grip on her arms tight as the half carried and dragged her to the rooms end and into a smaller room, placed in front of a desk with an officer sting behind it, her name, age and address asked, unshackled and told to undress, doing so under the humiliating stare of the officer and guards, wrists bound again and taken from the room down the hall to the door at the end then down the stairs into the darker, danker parts of the building the fear etched onto her pretty features as they brought her to the man in the white shirt and dirty black leather apron who stood at the doorway of a dark room.

She watched with growing apprehension as He signed the papers and took her arm leading her into the room the door closing with a soft thud, her eyes casting about the spartan room and the device that sat mid room, the only other objects being a single chair and a thick heavy plank leaning against the wall. From the time she was made to sit in the chair and He placed the leather cuffs on each ankle time for her began to blur, compress, structured by fear and pain as she was led from one stage to the next and then left.

It was the cruelty of the hour glass that through her tears and suffering that time as she knew it ceased to have meaning. It was as she sat astride the cruelty of the device that she came to understand that no matter what she said did or pleaded, no matter how much she screamed, wept, sobbed and cursed her time here would be alloted and held until He had taken from her the sufficient words He needed to secure a confession and please the state.

She sat astride the cruel brutal device her cheeks rolling with fresh tears, her body a flame, shuddering with slow twisting agony, her mind screaming for release as she turned her head to the door seeing Him return, close the door quietly and walk to her,………. His hand gentle on her as He stroked her fevered brow and wiped away some tears saying softly to her, “ We can now begin the questioning.”