The shackles fastened around her wrists, trapping her hands behind her bare back. Michelle wriggled and struggled as the courtroom staff brusquely pulled her down from the witness stand. She almost fell several times, as she struggled to regain her balance in her ruined stilettos. One of them fell from her foot as she stumbled down the steps.
"Take her away," the judge muttered dismissively, waving his hand in the direction of the side door. Michelle was being escorted there by two guards, while one more from behind fussed and fiddled with her skin-tight skirt, swerving to avoid it as it finally unfastened and fell to the ground. The lingerie she was wearing underneath was now obvious to all.
"Restrain him!" the judge continued, pointing to Michelle's husband. Yeng's expression had turned from anger to sorrow, as if he too was about to begin crying. He was defenceless, and could do nothing to aid his beautiful wife's dire situation.
Michelle shrieked as several men grabbed handfuls of the satin around her thighs, until it tore and came away from her bottom. Within a few more seconds, she was out of the courtroom, and the screaming stopped.
Everyone in the courtroom looked at the steel door as it slammed shut; a ripped pair of pink lace underwear resting on the floor in front of it. Their heads turned to the shiny black leather skirt next to it, and finally to the five-and-a-half inch red high heel shoe a few inches from that. And back. And back again. They were shocked at what had happened, but could not imagine what Michelle was about to experience on the other side of that door.
"Let m-me go! Please! Please!" Michelle shrieked through her tears, as the hostile entourage of men accompanied her down the cold, grey hall.
With one heel on and one off, she had no chance of escape, limping as the guards held her delicate body tightly. Michelle wrestled against their strong arms, but it was a futile effort, and she succeeded only in exhausting what little energy remained. Against her stomach, she could feel the bulge in their trousers, as they manhandled her nude body and silky-smooth skin.
"Where are you-" Michelle ran out of breath mid-scream, and threw her long hair around in fury. "Where are y-you taking me?" There was no response from the guards.
Her destination was a place, according to the open door, known as 'Room 351'. Inside, half a dozen plain-clothes men were chatting. They stopped when they could no longer hear themselves, as Michelle's yelling becoming louder and louder as she was led toward them.
When the guards finally pulled her into the room, Michelle almost wet herself. A colossal table, dark red stains soaked into its wood, took up the centre of the room; a device like an old-fashioned stock was fixed to the end.
The men awaiting her began making some sort of preparations. Things were being picked up and moved around. Michelle had no idea what was going on. The guards, meanwhile, looking tired and unhappy from enduring Michelle's near-constant screaming and struggling, lifted her limbs up onto the table, despite her vocal protests. "No! No! What are you-"
She was shoved into the centre of the dirty table; the rough, filthy wood pushing splinters into the delicate skin on her back.
"Stop moving," a gravelly-voiced man calmly said; he sounded as if he'd done this routine thousands of times.
Michelle thrashed harder than ever. Her feet, with one remaining stiletto from the courtroom still on, flew in all directions, and clattered against the thick, heavy wood in fury.
She felt her foot hit something soft, and immediately froze. In front of her, a guard clasped his finger to his mouth, blood dripping from it. He held one of his teeth in his other palm. It suddenly dawned on Michelle that she'd just kicked him in the mouth during her flailing around.
Much to her surprise, the man did not retaliate. Instead, another guard stepped over to him, and placed his hand on his shoulder. He muttered to him, too quiet to hear, and gesticulated with his hands, pointing at her feet, followed by a narrowing-of-the-hands motion. This seemed to placate the injured guard, who turned and left the room, his face a little red from embarrassment.
Michelle's fear of hurting one of the guards had given the others a few seconds to finally restrain her. Straps bound over her shins, securing her down. Her red stiletto was pulled from her foot, and thrown to a dark, dusty corner of the room.
Suddenly, two large hands were caressing her vast cleavage. One of the guards, unable to resist staring at her naked chest as she lay on the table, enjoyed his fill of her body for a few moments.
