Security Test

They strip Ziva. Strip her bare. Leave nothing. She stands there, waiting, exposed. Then it begins. They bind her tight. Arms drawn back. Ankles spread. Every knot a promise of what’s coming. She can’t run. Can’t close her legs. Can’t do anything but take it. Fingers. Tongues. Toys. One after another, no mercy. She comes hard, hips jerking, back arching, mouth open. Then again. And again. They don’t stop. Not when her thighs shake. Not when her moans turn ragged. Not when her eyes go glassy and her body starts to sag. They just keep going until she’s wrecked. Spent. A broken doll hanging in their grip, slick and twitching.