Chapter 2 - and a major warning here. The chapter deals with sexual torture. If this ofends, please read no further and skip to chapter 3

The blindfold was still tied tightly in place, keeping the hurting brunet well and truly in the dark both physically and metaphorically. The darkness scared him almost as much as all his other discomforts put together. In the darkness he couldn't tell where the next pain would come from or why, or who was making him hurt. Starsky was upright, he knew that for sure. From the feeling of the air moving on his body he realised her was also almost naked, but could remember neither arriving at this place, wherever it was, or being untied from the hogtie and repositioned thus. He could still feel the elastic of his boxers around his hips, but his feet were cold, braced almost on tiptoe on the bare floor and the cool air tickled against his chest, legs, arms and back.

His arms were stretched out at shoulder height, pulled sharply away from his body by what felt like ropes bound tightly round his wrists. The ropes cut into the flesh of his forearms and he could feel the tickling, annoying sensation of blood trickling down his from wrists towards his elbows. His shoulders burned with a fierce ache from the time he'd been held upright like this. With no clock and no sight to guide him, he could only estimate that it was around an hour, maybe more, maybe less. His ankles were similarly tied, again his legs being stretched uncomfortable wide apart and secured to something. His hips, knees and ankles also ached and the insides of his feet had gone to sleep from keeping his weight balanced on them.

Trickles of sweat ran down his arms and legs and coursed through the brown curly hair decorating his chest. Starsky remembered clearly the moment he started sweating. It was at exactly the same time that the first stinging pain had landed right on the very core of his body, catching not only his cock, but his balls too.

That first pain had been electric in its intensity, made even more painful because of course he'd never seen it coming. He'd heard something that sounded like stiletto heels walking towards him across the stone floor. The quality of the sound told him he was inside, and that wherever he was seemed empty. The sounds echoed around him and played their own part in making him feel dizzy. He could feel it was a stone or concrete room because of the warmth being leeched from the soles of his bare feet. The foot falls had stopped very close to him and for a moment he felt hot breath on his neck as though someone were breathing in his essence. It creeped him out and turned blindly in the direction of the breath.

'Where am I? Lemme go ya fuckers' he yelled into the blackness.

That was Starsky's first mistake. The hot breath left him alone for a moment and he stared into the blackness of the blindfold as he heard the person take one step backwards and then… The brunet's whole world turned a bright agonising scarlet as the tip of what felt like a whip hit at his groin. His genitals were immediately on fire as he screamed out in shock and pain, his left knee folding reflexively inwards to try to guard his core from further abuse. He breathed heavily leaning forwards as far as his stretched shoulders would allow and his head fell to his chest.

Another blow followed immediately afterwards and the shock and pain intensified so that another scream was wrung from the cop's throat and his arms shook in their bonds, his hands balling into fists. He danced on the end of his ropes, trying to dodge further invisible blows. The whip caught him again and again, always in the same place, always targeting the family jewels until Starsky felt that they might rip in two. Another blow landed and he threw back his head

'What the fuck? Oh my God! Noooo, Oh Jesuuuuuuus, stop, please, please, enough' he pleaded to his unseen tormentor. As the whip stopped, the brunet let out a strangled sob. The entire centre of his body was on fire. He could feel the pull of the abused skin as his balls swelled from the torture and something that felt ominously like blood started to trickle down the inside of his leg. He moaned, his chin resting on his chest because he had no strength to lift his head up any more and he hung in his bonds, the extraordinary strain placed on his shoulder joints making them creak and tremble.

Starsky could feel that someone was once again by his side. He could feel the cool of their body next to his overheated skin and he flinched away with a hiss as he felt a delicate finger wipe away a sweat droplet from his chest.

'Leave me 'lone' he whispered. 'Just lemme go. Where am I?

He pulled his head back with a groan as he felt something close to his ear and a feminine voice whispered in his ear. 'You're in hell.'

'Sure, an' you're the devil himself huh?' Starsky gasped.

'You don't know the half of it Davey.'

'Why don't ya show yourself? Are ya too chicken to face a bound man? What're ya hidin' for? Scared I'll come after ya? I will, ya know. I'll hunt ya down an'….'

'But you're dead.'

The words were said so coldly that it stopped Starsky in his tracks.

'Huh? What did ya just say?'

'I said, you're dead.'

The woman's voice nagged at the brunet. There was just something about it that he thought he knew, or at least he ought to know. She'd called him by his name, so it was obviously someone who knew him, but what was all this crap about him being dead? Where did that come from?

'Don't feel dead' he grunted. 'Dead men don't have their balls on fire.'

'Aint that a fact?' the female's voice snickered. 'How do they feel Davey? Like there's the fires of damnation an' hell coming from them?'

Starsky stiffened and hissed softly as he felt her pull down his boxers and put her hands on his cock. Her fingers wrapped around it and pumped it once or twice, but Little Davey had most definitely had better days and wasn't for playing out right then.

'What's the matter honey? Can't get it up for me? What I want I usually get. Let's see if we can't persuade him to pay attention, shall we?'

The bound cop heard the stiletto heels take a couple of steps back and then the dreaded whip fizzed through the air again, this time landing over his buttocks. He heard the woman cry out in delight as she watched his butt tense at the pain and then the tip of the whip landed again, in exactly the same spot. Twice more she struck at him and twice more Starsky managed to do little more than hiss at the pains, his body tensing and his toes curling against the cold stone floor.

The female stopped again and a moment later, Starsky felt her hands on his overheated skin as she ran her nails along the bright red welts decorating his behind. The sensation was one of fire ants consuming his body and he jangled on the end of his ropes as she traced each wound with her finger, delicately forcing another hiss of pain from him.

'Nice' she said. 'Very nice, and oh so stoical. That's cute Davey, but it isn't clever.'

Starsky stared into the blackness of the blindfold, determined not to scream as her fingers continued their insidious work. They moved lower, kneading at his flesh and separating his buttocks. His body stiffened but he said nothing and then the fingers continued their exploration, moving between his spread-eagled legs to find his cock again. Disappointed that her treatment had not elicited the desired effect, the woman took a hold of Starsky's package and yanked it down playfully. The brunet turned in his bonds, trying to dislodge her hands but clamped his lips tightly closed.

'Don't you like my methods of persuasion?'

'Had better' the curly haired cop gasped.

'Better than me?'

'Who are you?'

'Aww Davey. I'm upset that you don't know me when I know you sooo well. We go back a long way, you an' me' she said stroking down his flank as she started to circle his hanging body.

Starsky gritted his teeth, turning his head in the general direction of her footfalls.

'Ok, I got a bad memory. Take off the blindfold an' maybe I'll remember your pretty face huh?'

'Oh, so you know it's pretty' the voice responded.

'Would it persuade ya to take the blindfold off if I told ya you were butt ugly?'

'See that's what I always liked about you Davey. Such a cute sense of humour. And so…..so brave. The hero cop till the bitter end huh?'

'I don't know what you're talking about. Look, just lemme go huh? I never saw ya, I can't identify ya. Just let me down an' we can both walk away from this.'

'But I don't want to. Its fun to play.' Her whip flicked again and caught Starsky on his chest, just below the surgical scar from his most recent surgery to correct the slight heart defect he still had as a result of Gunther's men's attack those few years ago.

The brunet yelped but then closed his mouth.

'Hutch is gonna find ya. He's gonna find me an' then he'll come after you an' he's gonna fuckin' kill ya' the famous Starsky temper boiled over and the brunet yelled into the blackness. The whip returned, this time playing over his chest, thighs and shoulders. The assault went on for long minutes until the woman could see that Starsky's body was reacting less and less to the painful stimulus. Breathlessly she dropped the whip onto the floor and took a hold of a handful of sweat soaked curls, pulling Starsky's head back savagely until the tendons in his neck stood out like cords.

'Now tell me what's going to happen' she snapped into his blinded face.

'Utch….. get ya……bitch' the brunet managed to pant out.

'You think so? You really think so?' the woman asked, wiping away a thin trickle of blood that was wending its way down her prisoner's chest.

'Never let ya….. get 'way with this' Starsky gasped.

'I think he will, you know.'

'How d'ya make that out?'

'Because my dear curly haired cop, your wonderful, kind, brave blond partner thinks you're dead.'

Starsky felt a band constrict round his chest. 'What?' he whispered.

'Hutch thinks you're dead. Your house burned down and they found a body. He's mourning you as we speak. He looked such a broken man when they led him away from Ridgeway. He had tears on his face. It was so touching.'

'You fuckin' bitch. Lemme go. Lemme go right now' Starsky yelled, his hands pulling savagely at his bonds until his wrists and ankles started to bleed.

The woman put her and on the cop's neck. 'Don't struggle honey, you'll hurt yourself.'

'Let me go. I'll kill the fuckin' lot of ya' the brunet continued to yell as the woman stood back and watched him work himself into a frenzy. Calmly, she took a long length of rough twine and approached hr prisoner again.

Starsky felt her come close and was about to launch himself into another tirade when suddenly he stopped. Her hands were on the centre of his body again. What was it with this woman? Did she have a ball fetish or something? For a moment he wondered what she was doing and then he felt something rough circle the top of his package, pulling tight, but not too tight. From then on things started to get a whole lot worse as he felt the twine pull down, pulling his family jewels with it so that it felt like they were being pulled out of his body.

The woman secured the twine and then pulled it straight down and without a second thought, tied it to a ring bolt embedded in the floor between Starsky's outspread legs, securing his genitals to the ground. Calmly she stood and whispered in his ear.

'Don't move too much honey. We don't want you singing falsetto, do we?'

'I don't…I…what the hell? You're sick. You're one sick son of a bitch!'

'Oh now that's not the right thing to say to a lady is it?' the woman said as she picked up the whip again and set about her task with vigour.

At the end of ten minutes, Starsky was hanging limp and sweating from his bonds and the woman was red faced and panting with exertion. She stopped the blows, and checked on the unconscious cop, twisting her fingers into his hair savagely to see if there was any response. Satisfied that the brunet was well and truly out of it, she walked from the room and stopped by the two heavies she employed to take care of things.

Cut him down, but leave him tied and blindfolded. I'll be back tomorrow' she said with disdain and walked off.

The two big men grinned at each other and walked into the room. As one watched, the other cut through the bonds holding Starsky's arms and legs apart, stepping back to let the sweat soaked body thud to the floor. Quickly, he bound the brunet's arms behind his back, leaving his legs free, but still with his genitals tied to the ring in the floor. With one last look at the unconscious cop, the two men left, closing the door behind them.