A Date With Tamar Ch. 5bymiskeivitch©
I followed Daniellah, trying not to walk like an old man. I was stiff from too many hours of interrogation and my ass still ached as a result of Livshitz' style of interrogation. Daniellah barked out instructions in Hebrew to several security people as we walked down the corridors of the airport. This was the part of the airport that travelers never get to see, offices with telexes clattering, people screaming into telephones as if a crash was imminent, lost baggage in search of an owner; If you spent too much time here, you would never fly.
Daniellah walked in front of me making sure I had a full view of her cute little "tuches" swaying back and forth out of phase with her long dark hair hanging down her back. I wondered but Daniellah was coming on to me when I was a lot younger than she was. I assumed that it was because of the charm I had shown in the interrogation room. On the other hand, maybe Daniellah was an older woman with a taste for younger zain.
If I had met Daniellah instead of Tamar on my first day in Israel, it might have been fun to play an older woman's studmuffin. Instead, I met Daniellah on my way out of Israel and not under the best of circumstances. I had just lost the first woman I truly loved. I was tired and my ass had too many memories of Livshitz. No, Daniellah was all wrong for me tonight, I concluded. If only I knew exactly how wrong, I would have declined El Al's generous offer and slept on an airport bench.
We drove into Tel Aviv and Daniellah started asking all sorts of personal questions, if I had ever been married before, how many serious girlfriends I had, was it true that goyim were better at oral sex, etc. I thought I had told quite enough under interrogation so I said:
"Daniellah, don't you ever stop interrogating your suspects? Perhaps you could tell me a bit about yourself for a change?"
Daniellah did exactly that. She began with her childhood, playing doctor with the other children behind her apartment building. She moved on to her teenage years, losing her cherry in the second year of high school and distinguishing herself by working her way through her school's soccer team in her senior year. During Army service, Daniellah appeared to have serviced officers at all ranks, keeping Israel's fighting men in loving trim. If there was one theme in Daniellah's life, one could politely term it promiscuity.
Daniellah's life story terminated as we stopped in front of one of the poshest hotels in downtown Tel Aviv. When El Al apologizes, it apologizes with class. The hotel lobby spoke to me with these words: "You can't afford to stay here." Well, it was just like expense account life. I was about to enjoy a stay on somebody else's shekel.
Daniellah had a long discussion with the hotel clerk in Hebrew and then took a key. It was only on the way up to the room on the elevator that I noticed Daniellah's large shoulder bag. I was hoping that it contained some pajamas and spare underwear. I was a little ripe from all the sweating I had been doing recently and I would need a shower and a change of clothes.
When we got to the room, I said: "You've been really kind to me, Ms. Argov. You can just let me have the key and I'll take a taxi back to the airport."
"Nonsense. The other three released you into my custody and I can't have you escaping when I'm responsible. I want to see you settled in. Besides, I have a few things here for you," motioning to her shoulder bag.
Thinking that was my much-needed change of shorts, I went along with Daniellah. I let her open the door and I walked into the room first. The room was really luxurious, large and soundproof. I would need that to get a good sleep. I walked to the window, stood there with my hands on my hips and admired the night view of the city and the beach.
I began to enjoy life again when Daniellah grabbed my arms from behind. Before I could react, I heard a double click as both hands were securely cuffed. Before I could react, she shoved me towards the bed so fast that my momentum left me sprawled on the middle of the bed, face down and my hands behind me. Daniellah turned me over and clamped a hand on my mouth. There was a smirk on her face and her voice had gone back to the interrogator of a few hours before.
"If you make the least little bit of noise, I'll tell everybody that you were trying to escape and I had to put you in handcuffs. Now, do everything I tell you. Otherwise I'll feed you to Livshitz."
My sore ass prompted a nod of consent out of my head. "Livshitz" worked just as well as if Daniellah had a gun in her hand.
Daniellah continued. "So you like Israeli women, do you, my little Canadian boy? Tonight I'll give you more Israeli woman than you can handle. I'll show you more woman than that little girl, Tamar, could show you in a year."
Daniellah got off me, picked up her shoulder bag and went into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her and left me wondering what she was up to. I resented Daniellah calling Tamar a little girl. Tamar was the most mature woman I had ever known. What did Daniellah mean that she would show me more woman than Tamar possibly ever could?
I must have had 15 minutes to ponder all of this when the bathroom door finally opened. Daniellah emerged dressed in a black leather brassiere decorated with two stainless steel Magen Davids, from which protruded each pink nipple. Daniellah had studded bands on her arms and legs. Her fishnet stockings were suspended from a studded leather belt. Over her garter straps, she had pulled on split-crotch panties. All that equipment was menacing enough but Daniellah had done something to herself that dredged up a nightmare from my subconscious. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but I knew two things for certain. I was in shit and I was in the presence of another Israeli dominatrix.
"OK, lover boy. Let's see if Tamar was telling the truth about your manliness. Remember that we can easily rearrest her if she lied to us about you."
Daniellah undid my shoes and threw them in the corner. Then she undid my belt and zipper, pulling my pants off so roughly that I almost was dragged on to the floor. I raised myself slightly so Mistress Dani wouldn't rip what seemed to be my last pair of gaunches in the world. Daniellah roughly forced my knees apart and knelt in front of me.
"Well, well, Tamar was right. You are circumcised but your zain is much bigger than you showed us under interrogation. Normally, the men I interrogate always exaggerate size of their zain. You must be the only modest man in the world. Can you tell me why is that? Oh, never mind. I don't really need to know. The bottom line is that you lied to Mistress Dani. You must be punished for telling lies during interrogation."
I was grossly uncomfortable with the handcuffs digging in my back. Also, there was my sore ass, thanks to Livshitz. Despite all this, my dick began to stiffen in Daniellah's hands. She stopped examining its size and put my dick in her mouth. Daniellah slowly slid the tip of my dick to the back of her mouth and started sucking on my dick. I thought, how does she do that? Really, it was quite a credible blow job. Daniellah, OK Mistress Dani, had the most incredible method of touching the sides of the dick only with her lips and then clamping on the tip with the back of her tongue. I was kind of enjoying myself, even if I was cuffed and they were digging into my back.
When I finally came, Mistress Dani swallowed without any hesitation, no flinching and no making a face. Now, that's a tough woman for you. I speculated if it was the army training that made Mistress Dani such a tough customer. It was the best head of my life and there was no muss, no fuss afterwards. Now was the time for a compliment, in my opinion.
"That was great, Daniellah."
For no apparent reason at all, my compliment bought me a slap to the side of the head that made my left ear ring. "I said to be quiet, suspect. You have too much initiative for your own good. You also forgot to address me as Mistress Dani." Mistress Dani gave me another slap across the face in the other direction, setting my right ear ringing. Now, you will behave for the rest of the night or I will need to adjust your attitude further."
In the meekest voice I could raise over all those ringing noises, I said meekly: "As you wish Mistress Dani."
Mistress Dani gave a slight smile. "That's better, suspect." She had what she was after, my submission to her game.
Daniellah undid the cuffs and took off my jacket and T-shirt. She told me to lie down on the bed and I obeyed. I don't know at that point whether I feared Sgt. Livshitz or Mistress Dani more. One thing was certain. If I didn't come up with the right answer every time, no way was I going to get out of this in one piece.
Daniellah tied my arms and legs so I was spread-eagled on the bed. Then she got on top of me and began a routine of alternately caressing my naked body and then biting, pinching or scratching me with her nails or studs. I call it a cycle of moderate pain management and not really my idea of a fun evening. Whatever you want to call it, Mistress Dani knew her business and got my pecker hard and stiff again. She climbed off and removed the split crotch panties.
"Mistress Dani orders you to give my your tongue the same way you gave it to your young slut. You confessed to me that you have a tongue like a vibrator and I must confirm this."
Mistress Dani didn't give me any time to determine what the correct answer was for this one. She clamped her beaver tightly over my mouth. I managed to force my tongue out and up between her outer lips. Daniellah eased up a bit on the pressure and I could start to slide my tongue up and down between her inner lips. I managed to sort out the relative locations of cunt and clit and proceeded to provide a credible tongue job under the circumstances. I might even have found Mistress Dani a nice and juicy morsel to lick, if only the voluntary elements weren't missing from this encounter. Mistress Dani had spent part of her time productively in the bathroom, applying a flavoured douche. It was watermelon flavour, I believe.
Mistress Dani must have thought I was providing credible tongue service as she came suddenly, practically smothering me with her weight. Mistress Dani's lush bush hairs tickled my nose almost making me sneeze. The only thing that prevented me from sneezing was the pain from one of her garter belt clips jammed in my left ear. Yes, my ears had stopped ringing by now. Mistress Dani got up before I turned blue from lack of air and put her split-crotch panties on again.
With her back to me, I saw clearly what part of Mistress Dani had freaked me out. Mistress Dani had tied her hair into a tight bun at the back of her head, just like my Grade Two teacher, Chastity Flogchild. Old Miss Flogchild was a spinster who loved beating crap out of us little monsters, her term of endearment for children. Many was the time that my hand had turned red and raw thanks to Miss Flogchild's strapping. I often thought that it was a good idea that there wouldn't be any little Flogchildren. Or maybe there were and they didn't survive the abuse. How did Mistress Dani discover this secret fear?
As I recalled my memories of Miss Flogchild, my dick went limp. Mistress Dani looked disgusted. Wham! Another slap to the head. I summoned up the courage to meekly ask:
"Could Mistress Dani demonstrate again for the benefit of my zain her great talent as a fellatist?"
Mistress Dani smiled for the first time since my interrogation began and started sucking on my dick again. This time Mistress Dani went over the top with her blowjob. She knew precisely how to tease my cock so it went to the edge of orgasm but not over. Then she would stop and let my cock back off before sucking it in and out. Mistress Dani's great talent kept me hard and on the verge of coming but never quite going over the top.
Mistress Dani suddenly removed my dick from her mouth, reached inside her leather bra and pulled out a rubber pecker ring. She held it open with three fingers and placed it on the base of my pecker.
"There, that will keep you stiff while I carry out your punishment, you foreign scum."
Mistress Dani climbed on top of my zain. She parted her split-crotch panties and her pussy lips and just shoved my cock in without much ceremony. My dick sank in deeply, still rock hard, locked in a rubber-induced priapism. Mistress Dani was quite well-lubricated for an older woman or else I had given her the best tongue of her distinguished career. I wish I could tell you if Mistress Dani was tight or if she could tighten her cunt muscles at will. The fact is, I had no feeling in my dick except for the scratching of the panties as Mistress Dani bounced up and down on my dick.
I think that Mistress Dani also kept the nipple clips in her bra. They just seemed to appear out of nowhere, although Mistress Dani was so well stacked that I would never call a pair like that nowhere. Mistress Dani had one pair of clips for me and a larger pair for herself. I would have complimented on how stylish hers looked and how they matched the stainless steel Magen Davids but I was in torment. I admit that I have a low threshold of pain and I can give you my dentist's name to confirm this fact. I groaned in pain and begged her to take the nipple clips away. I should have known better. That's exactly the wrong way to get a motivate a dominatrix. Mistress Dani got her pleasure from my pain and she was going to getting the most pleasure out of me she could.
Mistress Dani put her hand inside the top of her split-crotch panties and started to vigorously masturbate, scratching my dick with her long fingernails near the base but below the pecker ring. Finally, she came again and collapsed on top of me and scratching my chest with her studded armbands. I hurt so much that I couldn't come. Daniellah climbed off me again.
"So you're still hard, my little foreign boy-toy. I think you're ready for some more fun. Wait here while Mistress Dani gets some more equipment."
Now what was I in for? Maybe it was the pain from the nipple clips plus my sore asshole that made time pass slowly. In addition to ass and nipple agony, the pecker ring had cut off circulation to my dick for so long that it was starting to turn purple and pulse with pain. Finally, I heard the toilet flush and Mistress Dani emerged from the bathroom with her new "equipment. One hand held a meter-long whip and the other hand had a paddle that looked like a half-sized cricket bat.
Mistress Dani undid one leg and one arm from her cuffs and told me to roll over. I got up with my stiff zain hanging down like a horse. Wham! Mistress Dani laid the cricket bat across one ass cheek hard enough to send the nipple clips flying. Then she laid another one on the other cheek. Both blows were placed on the cheeks with care, never near the asshole, so as to not aggravate the fine work done by Livshitz. "How thoughtful," I thought. "At least those damn clips are history."
Mistress Dani amused herself with the whip and then told me to get on my back again. Snap! On went the cuffs again and Mistress Dani climbed on top. In went my zain deeper than before, rolling the pecker ring right to the base. Mistress Dani pulled me out a bit and then ground down on my sore pecker again. Out. Grind in. Out. Grind in. An occasional crack of the whip if Mistress Dani thought my attention was wandering. The woman was tireless and in great shape for her age. And she never lost a nipple clip all evening.
So, that's how I spent my last night in Israel, as the unwilling sex slave of Mistress Dani. Finally, she exhausted herself with all the grinding, whipping and beating and just rolled off me. With a contented look on her face, she took off my cuffs and the pecker ring. Then she got undressed, let her hair loose from that terrifying bun and gave her final order before falling asleep:
"Hold me close, Chris. Please don't leave me now."
I moved close to Daniellah, put my arm around her and cupped one hand one of her big tits. I wasn't going anywhere. I thought a lot about escaping but I had a simple deterrent: What kind of story would anybody buy from a naked, scratched and bruised man with a purple pecker dangling between his legs? Not being in an inventive mood, I dropped off to sleep to await my fate in the morning.
Actually, my fate wasn't all that terrible. Daniellah woke up first and picked up all her equipment before having a shower. Then she, or probably the airline, bought me a Canadian farm breakfast of sausages and eggs. They even had sliced bread instead of pita and the first peanut butter I had seen in two weeks. True to her word (I guess there must be some code of honour in the world of the dominatrix) Daniellah took me back to the airport, gave me my luggage and passport as well as a first class ticket to Toronto.
"Because of all that inconvenience due to the 'incident', I've bumped you up to first class. Enjoy, my darling Chris."
"That's not the only thing of mine that you've 'bumped up', Daniellah. I hope that the seats are soft in El Al's first class because, right now, my body aches all over."
I should have known better. Pain is a compliment in the ears of a dominatrix. Daniellah said "You're so sweet," hugged me and kissed me full tongue. She whispered in my ear:
"Goodbye Chris, my love. I'm never going to forget you. You've been such a good sport for me. Thanks for the fun. When can we do it again?"
Do that again? I think I mumbled: "I won't forget you either, Daniellah. But I have to get going. They've just made the call for first-class passengers." I gathered my carry-on luggage and hurried across the tarmac to my airplane.
I was so happy when that airplane took off. Hopefully, I was leaving the sadistic Mistress Dani behind, but I was also leaving behind Tamar, the soldier I loved and who loved me. On the other hand, getting laid by three different women and falling madly in love with one of them wasn't a bad score for two weeks in a small country. Mentally, I deducted a few points from my score for one of the women being a dominatrix and the other being a hooker.
The flight to Toronto was quite boring so I decided to make the best use of being "bumped up" to first class. As I flew back and sipped a Maccabe beer in the 747 first class cabin, the Israeli next to me was reading a Hebrew newspaper.
"Anything interesting in the paper," I asked, trying to be friendly.
"There's a weird story here about some guy from Morocco who attacked a tourist at the airport last night. The newspaper says that it was some kind of an affair of the heart. They arrested the tourist, the assailant and the woman they were fighting over."
Hoping that I might find out something about Tamar's fate, I asked: "Did they say what happened to any of them."
"There aren't any other details. But, I can tell you this, my friend. The way our security forces operate, the would-be assassin, the woman and the tourist were all in deep chara until they sorted this tzimmes out."
I thanked him for his insight and I settled my sore body back to my first-class lounger.
The rest of my story is sad. I was never able to get in contact with Tamar again. I tried to call the Army Censor's office several times asking for Tamar Ya'akov but I mostly turned up clerks who spoke only Hebrew, Yiddish or Russian. There must be a real demand for Yiddish censors.
I even got hold of Major Krotchnik, as she now was. Apparently, shortly after my interrogation, Shin Bet "discovered" that Percival Purves actually did work for MI-5. The Foreign Ministry revoked Percy's work permit and he was put on the next British Airways flight to London. Apparently, Chava Krotchnik had quite a tearful farewell for Percy at the airport, which resulted in quite a long interrogation at the airport. You guessed it, Livshitz, Kinnor, Galil and Argov with Sgt. Livshitz leading the interrogation.