Dareen's grandmother used to keep the rice bag in the freezer. She said it kept away the bugs, a big problem in Syria, and it stayed fresher that way.
Dareen dreamed she was a tiny nude woman sprawled out within an immense bag of rice, trapped, unable to move. The rice was freezing, the cold penetrating every pore. And she was breathing the rice and exhaling it, like an arctic fish on another planet where the sea was of grain.
She opened her eyes and raised her head. The first thing she saw was the man below her taking off his huge thick ski mask. It was that mad scientist guy, smiling at her with lascivious teeth and a mad gleam in his eye, pink balding head, eyes blinking quickly, clouds issuing slowly from his mouth with his carefully controlled breathing.
"How do you feel... NakedGirl?" he said with an evil smile.
Dareen felt her breasts heave as she breathed the sandy air in and out. "Cold... please... Give me something to wear."
"If I did that you would be dead within minutes... So," he said, bringing his eyes down to right in front of him, "I remember you were very modest. You didn't want to change your clothes in front of me. I assure you I was in a hurry and I had no choice. But how do you feel now?"
Dareen blinked further awake and her eyes narrowed with anguish as she realized her situation. She was still in that super-cold room but the boxes on the floor were gone. And she was tied up, spread out some five feet above the floor. Her wrists and ankles were tied far, far apart, to posts that ran up to the ceiling. The posts were only the front part of a cage of heavy metal bars that fanned into the floor at an angle in a circular pattern behind her. Another set of straps cruelly forced her thighs apart. Her crotch was wide open, right at this horrible man's eye level. She looked down and saw her breasts pointing at him, her nipples stiff and erect and blue-black. Her skin had a purplish hue.
Dareen looked up and closed her eyes in prayer. She could feel the frigid air invading her innermost crevices and knew her pussy lips were stretched open for this man's gaze. When she opened her eyes she could not disguise her distress. "Please don't look," she said through agonized eyes. "Oh please..."
She tried with all her might to close her legs, to bring her arms forward to cover her breasts. Her whole body shook with the strain. The result was hardly a creak from the apparatus upon which she was fixed. In a final pitiful attempt at modesty she flexed her pussy muscles to at least try to close her lower lips. She felt a soft crackling sound and then faint tinkling on the floor. With dread she deduced it must be the cracking of a film of ice that had formed on her moist membranes.
She shut her eyes and tears began to fall, only to freeze before they were halfway down her face. "Don't look at me..." She tried politeness. "Please, Mr... " She remembered the name the agents had asked her about. "Mr. Novotny."
"Your shy innocent act is very convincing," the man said. "But then again how do you know my name?" He put the thick ski mask on but Dareen could still see his eyes through a hole. As he spoke through the ski mask the condensation that came out was more muted. "Let me ask again the first question I asked you that night. Who sent you?"
"N - no one."
"Yet you came here with a monitoring device."
Dareen had a brief flash of hope. At least Colonel Mike and his team knew where she was. She was only a few miles away, not over Russia. They would be here in minutes. But could she survive that long?
"Th - they will be here s - soon," Dareen said, shivering.
"Oh yes I am sure they will. That monitoring device, I shot it into the woods. Once they find it, it will take them maybe thirty or forty minutes to find this place." He extended his arms as if to show her the big white room. "Quite impressive, don't you think? Though you are obviously experienced in secret underground installations."
For a long moment the heavily clad man and the stretched out, naked girl looked at each other, Dareen searching the darkness of his half-hidden eyes for some sign of humanity.
"You are a bad man. I will die here. P - p - please give me clothes." With her shivering, her purplish breasts jiggled slightly. She wiggled her numb toes in an attempt to keep circulation going.
"I told you, dear, it would be fatal. At this temperature a normal person would not survive without heavy clothing. I know about such things."
Dareen looked at him and tried to control her breathing. She was not shivering as much as she thought she would. And her toes were not quite as numb as she had expected. She wasn't dying, at least not yet. Or was this some kind of hypothermic dementia setting in?
"In case you're wondering, the temperature here is minus 50 degrees Celsius. As you might say, minus 58 degrees Fahrenheit. Tell me... how do you feel?"
She did not extend the courtesy of answering him.
Then she yelped as he reached up and extended two heavily gloved fingers to grab onto one huge nipple. He pulled and pulled. It hurt like blazes. Then he pulled on the other nipple, then started yanking on them. Dareen closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, praying to Allah that she might be left whole. She looked down and saw that he was leaning back, pulling with all his weight and all his might. Yet despite the pain --
He let go, the nipples snapping back up to the oversized breasts. He caught his breath and said, "See? No damage. Though you seem to have felt that."
Her nipples still burned but Dareen said nothing. Then he turned. She watched him go. When he came back her eyes widened in panic. He was carrying a huge monkey wrench, two feet long.
Despite her futile efforts to evade it, the calipers enclosed her spongy left nipple. They squeezed and squeezed. Her nipple did not flatten but was crushed only slightly. With a great heave he yanked on the monkey wrench, then put it over his shoulder and pulled with all his weight. Finally he twisted it, laboriously torquing it almost one complete revolution. His grunts of exertion were matched by Dareen's grunts and gasps of discomfort. Finally he couldn't go any more and gave up. He released the wrench. It fell to the floor with a long clang. Her nipples bobbed up as before, hurting but unharmed.
Again he looked up at the spread naked girl, again Dareen made useless attempts to avoid his gaze. She was fighting it, but she had to concede that she was sharing in this man's admiration and wonderment at the resilience of her body.
"One more test." He disappeared and came back pushing what looked like a little mounted cannon on wheels. With trepidation she noticed it was aimed directly at her crotch. He was busy for a few moments with sliding bolts into notches in the floor. Then a flick of the switch and Dareen's eyes widened again.
"You are a sick man! May Allah condemn you!"
It was a rounded metal shaft, two inches wide, telescoping out from the base toward her pussy. Dareen bent her head forward so she could see past her breasts as it progressed toward its inevitable prey. This pervert was going to rape her with a metal rod!
"Don't worry my dear, it is not what you think. I want you to fight it."
Dareen looked up and tensed, eyes closed, praying, waiting for the cold press of metal against her most sensitive place. She was determined that she would not be violated. It might be useless against such power, but she was going to keep her womanhood closed. She inhaled as the cold metallic knob nuzzled against her lower lips and pressed forward. It made a little headway but then she was able to stop it before it got inside.
She kept pressing her lower muscles. Behind her, the structure of metal bars groaned with stress. There was the creaking of a motor seizing up. Then silence. Dareen opened her eyes and looked down. The metal rod, six feet long, was bowed and bent in a U shape. Mr. Novotny turned the switch off.
"Congratulations. That was six thousand pounds of force."
She watched as he detached the apparatus from the floor and pulled it away, dragging with it the ruined telescoping pole. She flexed her pussy muscle, feeling the frigid air seep in as she did so. It seemed unhurt. She breathed deeply with relief, the sandy air going in and out of her lungs.
He came back sliding a chair behind him and said, "Thank heavens for Laja rays. Just as I calculated. Below minus forty degrees your powers are confined to the borders of your body."
Dareen fought the shame of being spread and stared at and managed to give him a glare. "You could have killed me."
"No. I know exactly what I am doing. Just like you. Now," he said, pulling off his ski mask again, sitting down on the chair, "perhaps you tell me what you are about." He looked up at her, switching his gaze from her crotch to her breasts to her face in a way that infuriated her. "You quite literally stole my thunder that night. Human capture of laja rays was something I had not thought possible, at least not without killing the subject. I figured out later that it is possible if conditions are exactly right, and the body position and shape are exactly right. But for that to be a coincidence, my dear, is impossible. You and your people, whoever they are, had figured it out well before I did. I thought I was alone in my knowledge but I was not. Now tell me who sent you to my place that night."
Dareen looked to her sides at her spread fingers and toes and wiggled them. She made one more attempt to break loose. Then she looked at him, fixing him with her eyes, and tried to be catty and defiant. "You are dead. You are so dead. Any minute now they will be here."
"Of course," he said. "You realize though, that so much as one piece of fabric and your laja field will be disrupted, and within a few minutes you will exist no more." He pulled a large wool sock out of his pocket and stood up. "Want to get warm?"
He was about to slip it onto her bare foot. Dareen so wanted to feel a tiny bit of warmth but knew it could not be. Only a few minutes to hold out. Surely they'd be here soon. "No -- don't! Please -- don't!"
He brought the sock around so that it almost touched her toes and then drew it away. Her heart stopped a beat, she was so possessed with longing. But she also had to be relieved.
Dareen was truly starting to wonder what the hell was going on. This man was a sadistic torturer. If he wanted to he could kill her by putting clothes on her. But he apparently wanted her alive. He sat down again and looked at her for a few minutes. He made an attempt at small talk. "Very uncomfortable chair," he said, checking behind him. "But at these temperatures folding chairs freeze up and wood snaps like matchsticks." He shrugged. Then looked at her. "Minus forty degrees. Do you know if I am talking Celsius or Fahrenheit."
Dareen knew this and decided to play along. Talking might get his attention to her face and away from her private parts. "It's the same."
"That's right. It's the same temperature in both scales. You are quite knowledgeable."
"I am a librarian. I am not a scientist. I am not a spy. I'm here because I want to stop those terrible pulse bombs." She squinted so that the frozen tracks of her tears broke off and fell onto the slopes of her breasts.
He frowned. "That is a wrong term, made up by the press. You should be calling it a Q bomb. I invented it, I get to name it."
"So you are the one."
"Yes, my dear. I admit your sudden appearance set me back a bit that night, but I caught up and have made up for lost time. I see you are no longer shivering."
Dareen blinked. There was something in her eye.
"That is the icing of your corneal fluids you are feeling. Blink every two seconds like I am doing. Once you know how to survive in this cold it really isn't so bad."
Dareen looked down at her breasts, across at her bare feet. "It is if you're naked." She regretted saying the word, a further acknowledgement of her total exposure.
"Well, I am sure you will be all right. Much colder than this, would be another matter. But note that you aren't shivering any more. It was just a psychological reaction." He took a stethoscope out from his pocket. The nude girl frowned with loathing as he started with what was a two-handed task with someone of Dareen's endowments. He pushed one breast up with an outstretched hand so that the nipple was almost in Dareen's mouth. With the other hand he pressed the little chestpiece against her rib cage. "Don't worry, I kept it in the refrigerator so it would feel warm to you... That's a little joke, my dear... Hmmm... about 60 beats a minute." He let go. "Normal for the athletic person you are.
"One more thing." He took out a camera and Dareen heard a click. Dareen quailed at the thought of a picture existing of her being naked and tied up and spread out. Instead of putting the camera down, though, he kept it to his eye. "As I thought. Just the strong force."
He looked at her with a more serious expression now. No sadistic glee, just business. "Tell me who your weak force counterpart is."
Dareen thought of Lourdes and her eyes widened at the thought of what this horrible man would to do the defenseless teenager. She said nothing.
"Ah, I see the shock of recognition. As good an actress as you are, you give yourself away, my dear. You know more than the birdbrains who have been testing you. Obviously they were not the ones who sent you on your little jaunt that night.
"As you surely know, laja rays create a strong and a weak force. The Q bomb needs both. But when you stole the lightning that night, you stole only the strong force. The weak force must have been diverted elsewhere. Presumably to a second human body." He leaned closer. "Who was it?"
Dareen looked up, blinking back the ice in her eyes.
He brought the sock up again, so that it almost touched her toes. "Sure you don't want to tell me?"
Dareen closed her eyes in prayer.
He sat down and put the mask on yet again. "As you might have guessed, you are worth more to me alive."
There were a few more moments of shame as the naked Dareen endured the man sitting in his spectator's chair, gazing up into her spread-open pussy. When he got up as if to leave, Dareen exhaled with relief. But before he left he said, "Something to keep your mind focused until your friends arrive." And he brought out a step-ladder and opened some panels in the ceiling...