In the clutches of the sadistic Sato, Jane Masters faces the toughest of tests. CAUTION: this segment contains explicit descriptions of mental and physical torture and bondage...

CHAPTER THREE: Tsuruga, Fukui Pref., Japan... Red Fist of Justice Complex ("The House")...

I was frozen to the spot.

Feeling my knees buckle involuntarily, I had to put my hand out to stop going over on my high heels. My mouth opened and closed noiselessly. A hundred different thoughts crowded in at once, fighting for attention, but I felt unable to organise them into any meaningful order. I guess I was, not to put too fine a point on it, fucked.

After what seemed like hours, but must have been scant seconds, Sato fired a challenging "well?" in my direction. I raised my eyes to see her stood there with her hands on her hips, a thin smile snaking across her face. She strode forward deliberately and slapped my face, hard. "You don't do a very good impression of a goldfish, do you?" Tears sprang to my eyes at the shock of the stinging pain. And she laughed, cruelly. A horribly pretty sound.

She nodded to the black-catsuited guards who had gracefully appeared at my side. They lifted me up easily by my elbows. I felt a prick as a needle penetrated my soft buttock and then felt myself being carried out of the controlled area. As a tear-blurred darkness descended over my vision, I saw the twin boys regarding me. Receding into the distance. I tried to speak, to explain, or something, but no words emerged from my m-

***

When I came to, my first thought was that it had all been a terrible dream.

That fond illusion was rapidly extinguished by the deep ache in my joints and a burning pressure from my bladder. I was literally unable to move a muscle.

I slowly opened my eyes, wincing at the bright light. Whatever they had used to knock me out had left my head feeling like the aftermath of a night of Tequila slammers with the girls from the Vauxhall office. I was in a small, featureless tiled white room with no windows and a single door. I was lying on the floor, trussed like a turkey. Above me was a shower-head. Near my feet a circular drain.

While insensible, I had been very skilfully bound (or should I say mummified) with black silken rope that had left me not an inch of free play. My catsuit had disappeared and beneath the bindings I was butt- naked. The only parts that projected visibly from the silken bundle were my face, breasts and genitalia, which had shrunk dramatically since the onset of the hormone treatment. In as much as a cock and balls could look "feminine", that was what they looked like. By shuffling around, I could see that my cock had been painted red and ominously, it seemed that a thick black marker pen had been used to draw a dotted line around my genitals. A similar marker line ran in the fold underneath each of my small boobs.

I writhed unceremoniously as I tried to ease the pressure on my bladder without shamefully relieving myself. It was impossible and I knew I'd have to wet myself soon, unless help came. I simply wasn't strong enough to break the bonds and if I struggled any further, I knew that I wouldn't be able to stop myself from peeing. It sounds pathetic, but controlling my bladder was the only shred of dignity and hope I felt I could retrieve from this hopeless situation.

As I lay and tried to stop myself from bursting into tears, the full horror of my circumstances hit slowly home. I'd been compromised. My mission was fucked. Worse, I was now in the clutches of that frightening sadist Sato, who knew (or had guessed) that I was Lt. Commander Anthony Pierce under the hormonally assisted feminine curves of Jane Masters. Could I try to outface the accusation? It seemed unlikely that I could do anything but come clean and admit the truth. Perhaps-

I didn't have long to worry as the door sprung open and Sato strode in, followed by two of her catsuited guards. She was provocatively dressed in a one-piece, skin-tight black leather catsuit with impossibly vertiginous heels. Her long, black hair was piled high on her head. She looked obscenely beautiful.

"Well, Commander Pierce, what have you got to say for yourself?" Sato casually leaned forward and flicked my exposed testicles hard with a black-gloved finger. Excruciating pain shot through my groin and I would have creased up immediately had I been able to move an inch. "Not a very impressive piece of equipment, Commander", she sneered. "A trifle sensitive is it?" She bent down and started stroking my balls, which was, if anything, even more unbearable. With a smirk, she rose and turned away.

Unbelievably, I found myself asking her to allow me to go to the toilet. She swung round, slapped me hard in the face again and brought her thigh-booted shin straight into my groin making me scream in agony. "I ask the questions round here. You are Commander Pierce, aren't you?" she whispered in my face, bending down to flick my balls again. This time, I was unable to bear the pressure any more. I let out a wracking sob and relaxed, sending a steady stream of hot, golden urine onto the floor. It began pooling around my buttocks, up my back and soaking my blonde hair.

"You disgusting little worm", Sato hissed, leaning down. I couldn't meet her eye. I had never felt so humiliated in all my life.

"If you can't control yourself," she said, wrinkling her nose, "I'm going to have to make you wear a nappy." She rose. "OK girls, turn on the shower and hose him down with cold water. I can't possibly torture him when he smells so bad." With that Sato almost sensuously ran her fingers over my shrivelled genitalia and leaned in again. "Whatever happens, this pathetic little slug-thing is gone for good. You know that, don't you? Not that that is going to make much difference to anything, as far as you're concerned." With this parting shot she strode out of the door.

The guards untied me and kicked me until I stopped struggling, giggling in their high-pitched Japanese voices. I think I felt a rib go, and a finger as I lifted my hands to fend them off, but I was past caring. When I was still, I lay on my side and watched their high-heeled feet click over to the wall. I heard a a tap being turned and a jet of ice cold water struck my bruised body and aching face. I closed my eyes.

After a while, I thought, "what the hell," and started crying. The cold water washed my tears away and I felt myself floating. Cleaner and colder than I had ever felt. I was in a cold, small, high place on the very edge of myself.

The tap was turned off and I lay, shivering, on the clean, white tile, gasping like a beached fish. The guards left the shower cell.

Some time later - it could have been minutes or hours - I heard the door open again behind me. By this time I felt as though my body was frozen in place. Footsteps approached. I smelt a strangely familiar smell - a perfume. Then felt a sharp jab in my bottom, which took me away into merciful blackness.

***

I came to trussed even more tightly than before. I was on my front, my arms stretched out behind my back and I couldn't help thinking once again that I must have looked like the family turkey ready for the Christmas meal. With all those hormones swimming inside of me, I guess it was not a bad analogy.

Suddenly through the door appeared a metal contraption that resembled a mobile clothes rail, pushed by the guards (the same ones?) They hoisted me roughly up on it and I felt an excruciating stab of pain from my right chest. They secured my arms with thick leather straps and let my bound legs dangle free. I could only just reach the floor with the tips of my toes, which meant that I was in perpetual agony from my arms, which felt as though they were being wrenched out at the shoulders. One of them forced my mouth open and gagged me with a rubber ball.

I was wheeled out along the corridor. I couldn't help but be aware of my cock, which was embarrassingly and horribly exposed. After an interminable and agonising journey through half-darkened corridors, the contraption rolled to a halt in front of the door to Sato's office. The guard rapped on the door.

It swished open and I saw Sato behind her desk, a faint smile on her face. The guards rolled me forward till I was right in front of her desk. I could not move a muscle, but could hear the guards leaving. Once again, I noticed that naggingly familiar perfume and sensed someone behind me in the corner of the room. I tried to turn my head but it was useless.

With a smile over at the person standing quietly behind me, Sato stood, leaned over her desk and reached to force my mouth open and remove the gag with a loud pop. I ran my tongue round my aching mouth marshalling my reserves. I felt as if my arms were going to pop out of my shoulder sockets any minute, and considered asking her for some relief from the standing frame, but on the whole I thought it better not to risk further scorn. I found that by stretching the tips of my toes out till they reached the floor, I could relieve the strain for short periods of time.

Sato came round and perched on the edge of the desk so the hem of her pencil skirt rode up above her knees. She pursed her lips in a playful smile. "Well, Commander Pierce," she said, patting me on my cheek, "how typically arrogant of British Intelligence that they should think that they could infiltrate Red Fist with a transvestite". I felt my face break into a red flush. I'd never have considered myself a 'transvestite' but I supposed that, to all intents and purposes, if it looks like a chicken and clucks like a chicken, then it probably is a chicken.

"There's no point in denying it - we know your whole sad story. I could have you snuffed out at an instant, but the children do like you and I'm tempted to keep you on as their tutor. What do you think Commander?" She didn't let me reply and went on, "but there is one problem, Akaguchi-san does not employ men here as you may have noticed." She glanced down, raising an eyebrow. "I am afraid that that miserable appendage is going to have to go. Fortunately we can facilitate your complete transformation into Jane Masters through the medical facilities and staff in this very complex. We'll be able to utilise your female side fully in a very short space of time. I am sure it will prove a delicious irony to have the pleasure of screwing His Majesty's Service whenever we feel like it".

"How did you know?" I said, very quietly.

"Oh, believe me, the disguise is extremely persuasive. In fact, we would probably never have detected the subterfuge." She laughed. "Fortunately, we did have very good advice." And then she nodded at the figure breathing softly behind me and when who duly came round to join Sato and I suddenly realised why I had recognised that perfume. And I also realised with a sickening feeling why I had been so easily compromised, as Dr. Mary Dwyer smiled and softly said, "hello again, Commander Pierce."

For a moment, there was silence. I realised I was expected to react. To cry or something like that. I also realised that I was not going to give them the satisfaction any more. I had given them an unacceptable advantage already by showing weakness, tears. I would not buckle again.

The two of them looked at me. My persecutor. My betrayer. My enemies. By the end of this, they would lie dead by my hand, probably alongside me. I felt clear in my head again, the pain from my shoulders and ribs cutting a razor line to my brain. I was smiling.

The two of them laughed as the guards re-entered and I was efficiently wheeled out of the office into the corridor. As I was taken back to my white cell, I realised that there was an undercurrent to my feeling of excitement. When I realised what it was, I was shocked. I was feeling a tremor at the prospect of truly being used and abused as a woman, especially by Bond. As if all of my life I had secretly envied the role of being Bond's girl. To be fucked and discarded by the most powerful, beautiful men in the world. I felt a thrill that ran down my bound body to my groin and my little cock struggled to attention. I found I had a smile on my face. How perverse.

***

"You can reach a transcendental state when being tortured. This fact, I'm sure, is drummed into you during your British Intelligence survival training."

Sato circled behind me. I was strung up on my frame, bound with wide, leather straps. The rubber ball gag was again in my mouth. She went on. "The over-zealous torturer can inflict so much pain that the subject goes into a zen-like state where they begin to chase the pain as a starving man chases food, or the addict chases his next fix." She had tied my hair back, painted my face with crude, whorish make-up and forced my legs into black, sheer hold-up stockings and six inch heels, which just failed to reach the ground. Otherwise, I was naked. I was in agony. Starving. Thirsty. Due to the elevation of my arms and my weakness, I was completely unable to move.

"You see, when the subject enters that state, the torturer has lost. That's why I do not often inflict pain on my victims unless I intend to kill them." She went on, heels clicking behind me as she walked. "Torture is a very simple thing, you see. It's not about inflicting pain. Pain is merely a tool. Torture is about deprivation. Deprivation from material necessities, food, water, sleep. Deprivation from personal freedoms. We use torture as a scalpel with which we pare away all the signs of the self. At the bottom point you will no longer have any sense of yourself left. Then you will find it easy to tell me the truth - or to accept new truths."

She looked into my face, removing the gag with her finger and thumb. I ran my swollen tongue round my parched lips, making sure I retained eye contact with her, show no weakness, though I hadn't slept for a couple of days, probably - so hard to keep a sense of time when the light was always bright and guards always came to wake you with their electric nightsticks just as you were dropping off to sleep.

Sato leaned forward and kissed me, sticking her tongue deep into my mouth. I sucked on the moisture there, not wanting to let it go. She pulled away. "Thanks for the drink," I said, in what I hoped was a strong, defiant voice. "You're right about my training though," I went on, trying to massage some feeling back into my face by talking. "It'll take more than a bit of sleep and food deprivation to make me do your bidding, I'm afraid."

Sato was standing watching me, apparently amused, her leather clad arms crossed. "Oh really," she said. "Just exactly how long do you think you have been awake in here?"

"Not long," I tried to shrug. "A couple, three days at most."

Sato smiled, leaning forward to stroke my rouged nipples with the tips of her red nails. I shuddered. "And how to you feel, my brave British agent," she purred.

"Thirsty and tired." I said. "But I'll live." I looked with defiance into her eyes.

"I'm glad to hear that," she said, straightening and walking toward the door, "I have such wonderful plans for you." At the door, she turned. "Oh, and by the way, you've actually only been awake for twenty-two hours. I'll come back again when it really has been three days and then let's talk again, shall we?"

She looked up at the hidden camera. "No sleep, no food, no water. 1.25mg scopolamine, every 12 hours." Then turned back to me with a dazzling smile. "See you later, my dear."

***

Perhaps I lasted for a couple of weeks. Perhaps only a few days. I have no idea. The drugs and the sleep deprivation were hard to resist. I tried to die, but I couldn't. Sato's visits were the only punctuation in my long unrelenting tiredness. I felt as if I was disappearing and leaving a flat, paper version of myself behind. I just wanted to sleep. If I could sleep, it would be OK. I would get up, break out and run down the corridor, killing guards on the way until I got to Sato's office. I'd break her arms, then kiss her and then-

***

The next time Sato came back, I found that I could not look at her any more because of the hallucinations. Also, my neck did not seem to be working. So I had to speak to her without looking into her face, which I found embarrassing. She told me that I had done very well to remain awake for so long and as a result she was going to let me drink a bit of water as a reward. I think I cried then, but a kind of very painful, dry crying. She put a wet sponge to my mouth and I sucked on it, but could only take a couple of drops before I felt sick. I retched but nothing came out. She asked me if I was tired and I nodded. She said that she would let me have a nice sleep soon. I smiled.

Sato carried on talking to me in a low, and very soothing voice. She told me a lot of things, which sounded confusing, but as she went on I realised how stupid I had been. All this secret agent nonsense I had been filling my head up with was so utterly far fetched. A trivial romance that I had made up to make myself feel more important. It was so clear now.

I'm Jane Masters. I'm twenty-two. I was born a boy but always felt that I should have been a girl. I grew up in Surrey but ran away from home with my sister's clothes on when I was seventeen. For a while I tried to make money as a prostitute in King's Cross to pay for my hormones, but because I was so pretty and talented by the time I was twenty-one, I was spotted by one of the agents from the Red Fist, who said that they would be able to pay me enough to pay for my operation. Lucky or what?

I'm a dancer at one of the Red Fist clubs in town now. My stage name is Jewel because I shine like a diamond. I make a lot in tips because the men love me. I'm having my boobs done this week. I'm SO excited cos I always felt that they were too small! I love dancing because I love making men happy, but soon, I'll have enough to have the whole operation done then I might go home to England, find a nice sweet man who'll love, cherish and protect me, and settle down. I'll be the happiest girl in the world!

"Well done," said Sato quietly. "Sleep now."

I slept.

***

to be continued...