The Interrogation

Was it hours that had passed, or was it merely minutes? She had no idea, time itself seemed lost in limbo. Her only measurement of being that seemed to exist now was whether she was coming, or just recovering from having climaxed. A hell of orgasms that would not stop.


No matter how many times she had told them all she knew, they would not relent in their interrogation, desperate to acquire the correct codes for her employer’s office. Her first mistake had been to side with them once in the past, when her ex-boyfriend had convinced her that her employer wouldn’t miss just a couple of the highly valuable paintings he kept there in his vast collection. The second mistake was to back out of the plan, having already told them that, being a close assistant to the boss, she was privy to the access code.

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