Dominique was kept in Dubois's apartment for his enjoyment while her lover, Dan Patterson, was beaten and starved in a dirty prison cell. Dubois wanted not only to get the secrets from his prisoner's spying but also make an example of him. He had so far resisted the torture, but the French interrogator knew that every man broke in the end. The whip and red hot irons loosened any tongue.
Chained to a wall, filthy, bruised and cut, Patterson tried to remain defiant. However, the mistreatment was weakening him. His jailer and torturer was Gaston Girard - a swarthy bearded bastard with a scarred face who enjoyed inflicting pain.
"You going to squeal yankee when I get the whip on you," he growled, kicking Dan. "The Colonel is fucking your little whore and she's enjoying it. When he finished we'll all have our cocks up her. Me and the boys are first after the officers have their fucks."
He laughed. The taunts about Dominique were meant to undermine Patterson along with the abuse.
Dubois told him what lay ahead.
"You can save a lot of pain by telling us everything. A public confession in the square with names of the traitors and then you can beg for your life."
Patterson glared back at him. "Fuck you," he replied. Dubois sighed.
"Very well it will be the whipping post and the irons. No one keeps silent after that."
Girard grinned.
"I'll have him screaming like a little girl, my Colonel."
Outside the cell, Girard asked about Dominique.
"I want the girl, Colonel. Me and the boys. When can we play with her."
Dubois looked at the torturer, feeling very sorry for Dominique.
"She goes to the officers house first. You will be first to enjoy her after that if you make her lover sing."
"I'll do that OK, sir, Never fear."
Dubois had only two more days with Dominique before he must hand her over to the brothel. There was no choice. His fellow officers were impatient to sample the girl. Then she faced the lower ranks such as Girard.
He spent all the time he could bedding the beauty. She was still so soft and niave. Not for much longer, he thought as he thrust his cock in and out. Dominique was unaware that Dan was to be publicly whipped until the morning of the punishment.
"Today you must brace yourself for unpleasantness," said Dubois. "Patterson is to be punished in the square for being a spy. He has refused to reveal information so he'll be forced to do so with the whip and irons."
"No," cried Dominique. "You promised to spare him. You lied. No please."
"He has not co-operated. There is no choice. He'll not be killed if he pleads for mercy."
Dominique was crying and pleading.
"Be quiet. Control yourself," ordered Dubois.
She was in agony. The thought of her handsome lover being publicly tortured made her feel sick and she ran to vomit in a bucket. Dazed and weak she crouched on the floor trembling.
"Come," said Dubois. "You must prepare. You will have to witness his punishment"
Dominique did not know what he meant but there was a knock on the door and a middle aged woman entered carrying a bag.
"This is Madame Madeline LeClerc," said Dubois. "She is in charge of the officers brothel. You will be going there after the punishment"
Dominique stared at the hard faced woman.
"Get up girl," she ordered.
Dominique obeyed. The madam knew the girl was trouble. The men were like dogs on heat waiting their turns. It was always like this with a "special new one." Only last month the capture of a Mexican general's wife and her daughters had caused great problems. An hysterical mother and screaming girls who were forced to service the officers. The mother had to watch as her girls were deflowered, while she was also violated over a table. Now they were broken in and working the brothel like the other women. This one would learn the trade like them
"Right. Clean yourself up. You're going to be on display today." said the madam.
Dominique was forced to sit before a mirror while the woman gave her a quick wipe down with a wet towel, then applied thick red lipstick and powder to her face.
"Right put this on," she said taking a red and black trimmed corset out of the the bag.
Dominique obeyed and had the corset tightly laced up, making it hard for her to breath, breasts thrust out by the cups. She had to put on black stockings and then a pair of six inch high heels.
"Good, turn round," ordered the madam.
Dominique realised she was dressed like a whore awaiting a customer and was frightened.
"You'll do," said the madam.
Outside the noise was growing in the square. People flowed in to watch the spectacle, packed around four sides behind lines of soldiers. Dubois put out his arm.
"We will go on to the balcony," said Dubois.
Dominique stared back.
"Like this? No I must have a dress."
"You are a putta now. There is no need for modesty," he replied. "Today you go to the officers whorehouse. You will be showing off your wares from now on in public."
Dominique blanched, eyes welling with tears.
"Behave girl. You better get used to your new trade," said the madam.
Dubois took her arm and led her onto the balcony. All eyes turned to them as they appeared. The sun glinted off Dominique's exposed body. There was an explosion of noise from the men, while the watching women tut tutted and uttered words of disgust. Whistles and crude shouts filled the air.
Dominique stood humiliated, head bowed, sweating as the noise washed over her. The hungry eyes devoured her, cocks hardening as they viewed the gorgeous body. Dubois put an arm around her waist.
"Now it is time to see that your man is not such a hero after all," he said