Interrogation of semen thief!
She sits solemnly in her cell, quietly contemplating her fate. Damn! A small miss-calculation in the plan. She must be strong, tell them nothing. If she could just hold out, endure what they do to her, convince them she is not the one, then, then the crime will be worth it. When they come for her the interrogation goes badly. They seem unmoving in their conviction about her guilt. Then her worst nightmare is realized. They are going to get it out of her with the whip. She tries to resist, tries to hold on, but the relentless thongs bite into her creamy white skin searing her terribly as she hangs by her wrists. But when her tormenter applies a broad leather paddle to her wealed posteriors it becomes too much to bear. She is reduced to a sobbing blubbering thief admitting her secret. Her poor posteriors are throbbing, blistered and swollen from the beating. Now she is nothing but a convicted thief confined to her cell and reduced to submitting to any servitude demanded of her. She sobs with remorse and pain as the reality of dilemma gels in her mind while the Sergeant's semen dries on her chin and drips into her bound hands.