Special Dark

By far, Malafacha preferred Volora's cocksucking to any of his other bodyguards. Sitting beside him now, as the nondescript but powerfully customized family sedan hummed quietly through city streets, he watched as she bobbed up and down on his penis. His other female helpmate, Nori, sat cross-legged on the other side of him, idly flipping through a Euro Vogue while he diddled her with his fingers, now shoved down the back of her tight, pegged leather trousers. Occasionally, she'd shift a little and put down her magazine a moment for a little shake and sigh; her eyes closed, she'd rock a moment in demi-climax, then return to her fashion spreads. Malafacha's fingertip grew more moist and he enjoyed it, pulling it out and licking it occasionally.

Volora suddenly deep-throated him all the way to the root of his dick, and Malafacha did some shifting of his own. He grabbed the car seat and thrust up into Nori's vagina deep enough to make her squeal. Smiling, Volora spun her head on his dick. In a moment, after some frantic fingering in a now helpless Nori, Malafacha came along with her. He exploded in Volora's mouth as Nori gushed on his palm, leaving it wet with lubrication which he then idly slurped while Volora finished tonguing his dick clean.

In the front seat, beside Mustafa, his driver, sat Durazo, Malafacha's chief lieutanant and favorite whipping boy. He let a little chuff of impatience escape at all this nonsense behind him. Malafacha smiled, knowing Durazo was so one-hundred percent gay any bisexual activity put him off his feed.

Suddenly, Malafacha hammered the front seat, which made them all jump. Startled, Volora trapped some tender skin of Malafacha's dick as she rezipped his fly and he yowled. Shoving her away, he pointed toward the street.

"We'll take them," he commanded, indicating a trio of obvious tourists strolling the boulevard. The car roared to a stop at the curb and Durazo leaped out. Two women and a man; young, one no more than a teenager. He flashed them his gun and told them not to move, as Mustafa wheeled the car around the corner and put it at the mouth of an alley at the opposite side of the block. Durazo pushed the man toward the alley and growled for all of them to proceed down it. By the time they were halfway through it, Mustafa had the car backed several feet into the other end and was popping the trunk.

They'd done this many times before.

When they reached the car, Durazo and Mustafa roughly pushed the trio inside the compartment as they weakly yelped some protests. Mustafa slammed down the trunk lid and a dull thump sounded - evidently a head that ducked a little too late. Back in their seats, Durazo looked back at Malafacha and shrugged for an explanation. "Hostages," Malafacha said simply. Nori continued reading her magazine. Volora idly peeled a banana.

"What the hell we need hostages for?" Durazo demanded.

Malafacha ignored him. Everyone knew the reason. The boss needed some fun. It was in times like these, when Malafacha conjured his personal demons, that he was most aware of Durazo's distaste for him. He knew someday Durazo would try to bump him out of top spot - with all due violence - and assume control himself. Durazo considered this horseplay dangerous insipidity, pointlessly endangering their entire international terror network.

It was Malafacha's brainchild - a private, for-profit terror consortium hiring out to countries and private interests to spread chaos among their real and perceived enemies. For several of these outwardly placid, secretly malevolent entities, he was working both sides of the street - plaguing one at behest of its foe, then turning similar hell upon that foe when the wounded opposition launched realiation. That kind of deceitful, blood-drenched hijinks was especially gratifying to Malafacha; it came near to his ideal of catastrophic, perpetual violence that so sexually intoxicated him.

They took their guests to the Crytal Works, a favorite lair of Malafacha's. It was an old glass factory on the dark side of town, and now stood as a huge, warehouse-like shell. Artifact of the Industrial Age, when the West still had ability to make for itself what it needed, its floor was layered in gravel of broken glass, and through what patches of roof were left, moonlight streamed in to turn it into a shimmering carpet of twinkling stars. Malfacha had outfitted the old operations center high in the mid-building with walls all-glass, and double-pane, to enjoy the view and soundproof screams.

Malafacha liked to call it his Crystal Cathedral.

Upon arriving, they immediately separated their guests, man from women. He was taken to a small room across the rampart running the circumferance of the building three floors up. There he was slapped around a little, just to shake him up. Then he was lashed in a wheelchair and rolled down to Malafacha's see-through church. Once inside, his spirits fell when he saw both women tied - although still demurely clothed - to what the gang called "the spots". Since 'x' marks 'the spot' these were sets of two-by-six pieces of lumber joined at their middles in an x-shape. More than these two scaffolds could be conveniently added if necessary; at times, Malafacha had quite a crowd in there. The women were bound by their wrists and ankles by black leather cords that shined in the sinister dim light.

Once in the room, they put the fellow facing the women, and let them run through a few exchanges to make sure all were still OK, intact, unharmed, etc. Then, the gang waited for the cue - one of the captives would ask, "What do you want?" or "Where are we?" Then Malafacha strode to the wheelchair and bitch-slapped the man several times, until the women were screaming at proper volume, begging him to stop. Then, one of Malafacha's cat-girls - tonight it was Volora's turn - would go batshit, screeching and tearing around the room, scratching the captives, pulling out a quirt and laying a few slashes across one or both women's midsection, that sort of thing.

Then, things settled down. Everything got quiet; only sound was heavy breathing and sobbing of the captives, now utterly punched through with fear.

After a bit, Malfacha asked them who they were, and got them talking. They were Matt and his wife Cathy, and their niece Jody, daughter of Cathy's sister Margie. As they talked, a calmness returned to the room. They spoke of their lives in Middle America, their jobs and hopes. Again the gang waited for the cue, this time it would be a repetition of the first question, or "please don't hurt us" - anything, really, regarding the kidnapping.

Then it was Nori's turn. As the quiet conversation continued, she walked gracefully over to Jody, just 18, and kissed her full on the mouth. When she tried to twist away, Nori grabbed her face and began deeply frenching her, exploring her mouth with her tongue.

Across from the girl, Cathy reacted first, screaming for her to stop. Instead, Nori began unbuttoning the girl's blouse. As Matt finally joined in, Cathy exploded in cursing, straining at her binds like a wildcat, Malafacha thought, bemused (although he made sure to maintain his look of concern that her violent reaction might pop her free). Idly, he looked at the dark bloodstain behind her, where the boards crossed; that spot was evidence of how rowdy things got a few weeks ago with old Dr. Karafey, determined to keep his secrets to the grave.

He did.

When Nori reached in the sobbing girl's blouse and popped out her ripe tits, running her thumbs over the nipples and enjoying the girl's quivering reaction, Cathy changed her tack. She began begging that she be assailed instead, that the girl be left unmolested.

Nori turned and smiled at her, then strolled over to her perch. She stared at her a long time, until Cathy looked down in fear. Then Nori reached up and ripped open her yellow blouse about halfway down her chest. Cathy gasped in surprise and, rousing in anger, spat in Nori's face. The henchwoman paused, smiling, and wiped it away; then Nori backhanded the helpless woman as Matt screamed in protest. This time, it was Jody's turn to beg, but to no avail. Cathy began to rouse out of the stunning blow when Nori grabbed the waistband of her pedal-pushers, visible at her waist under the short blouse, and ripped them open in front with a single, powerful tug.

Cathy gasped again and rocked in place a moment, her trousers splayed open, barely on her hips, before Nori ripped away her bikini panty. Cathy squealed. All three screamed awhile, in fact. Waiting for the noise to subside, Nori slowly licked her middle finger, looked smilingly at Matt and Jody, and then thrust the finger into the bottom of Cathy's v-shaped pubic patch. She began stroking it in and out.

Reacting with a jolt, her expression in a tight twist, Cathy sputtered a protest. Jody squealed "Oh, no!" - a plea striking Malafacha a singularly unoriginal. Cathy made a begging sound as Nori's fingering quickened. She arched sharply from her perch, curving out her body as involuntary signal to all that Nori was dead-center on her clitoris. She tried to say something, but moaned, instead. Her naked abdomen strained against Nori's finger, rippling involuntarily in time to her stroking. From under the hem of her blouse, the bottom rim of her navel occasionally peeked out in vulnerable pleading.

Nori began running her hands up and down Cathy's chest and belly, finally ripping open her blouse the rest of the way. Cathy yelped again, made a little pleading sob, then moaned again.

Watching Cathy's wonderfully tanned torso bowed out and trembling, Malafacha was reminded of paintings showing cherubs and naked mymph's the old masters loved executing. For a moment, Malafacha wondered if they were so attached to Greco-Roman subject matter, or to stripping half-naked models in their studio.

Now Matt and Jody were quietly pleading, intermittently since obviously it was to no avail. Nori began licking one of Cathy's breasts in long, luxuriant swipes before closing on a nipple and sucking with slowly growing intensity. Cathy's head rocked back at this intrusion, her belly now grinding into Nori as the henchwoman moved closer; for her part, Nori began slowly coursing her other hand up and down Cathy's torso, letting her fingers and thumb pinch the tender flesh of her belly, and dig carefully and deeply in her navel.

After Nori had alternated between nipples a few minutes, Cathy let out a loud moan and her body began shaking. Nori stood back a moment and increased ferocity of her fingering, before returning to her nipple. Cathy jolted again and gasped, then let out a loud, quaking moan.

Everyone in the room knew she'd orgasmed.

She hung for a moment, exhausted. Some sobbing sounded in the room, like crying of mourners wounded at this brutal violation. Suddenly, Jody exploded in anger and cursing, vowing revenge against all of them. Nori and Volora approached her and stood close until she quieted. They quickly undid the binds at her wrists and legs and yanked her from her broken crucifix. Durazo and Mustafa then approached and held the girl by each arm as the two women stripped her clothes from her body. The girl screamed and kicked, but the women caught her legs and removed the last shards of her trousers with a switchblade. When she was naked, they laid her on a large circular pad in the middle of the floor - a big black dot marking the very center of the room. As the men held her arms and legs, the women attached themselves to each of the girl's nipples and began sucking. This time, it was Volora who let her fingers trail down the girl's belly to her snatch, and began fingering her with all adeptness Nori had showed with Cathy.

Now the room came alive again. Matt finally found his voice and bellowed calumny, and Cathy roused herself from post-coital stupor to begin sobbing and hurling threats again. Finally, Jody's bucking was too much and Volora looked up at Mustafa and nodded. He retrieved a small hypodermic tube from his breast pocket and, leaning over the struggling girl, gave her a quick shot in the side of her neck. Everyone waited for the girl to become passive, and when she was reduced only to whimpering and squirming, they went back to work.

Nori wet her fingers and trapped one of the girl's nipples in a throbbing pinch and then locked her in what would become a long, wet kiss. Volora spread the girls legs like a nurse making a clinic bed and clamped her mouth on her quivering snatch. Jody arched her back a moment and wailed beneath Nori's mouth, so a muffled, high tone came through her nose.

As they watched the girl undulate on the floor, the other two tourists, uncle and aunt, man and wife, slowly grew silent as they tried not to look.

Jody began a slow ripple with every intake of breath, and her body began to relax into a tremble that matched movements of Volora's tongue in her cheeks. Occasionally, Volora would pull back and they'd all see the tongue as it slowly traversed the slit of Jody's vagina, worked inside and then proceeded with exacting thoroughness up to her clit, closing to suck awhile. A soft snort escaped Jody's nose.

When Nori moved from her mouth to her other nipple, Jody rolled her head back and let out a deep moan, still reluctant, but aroused in spite of herself. Nori sucked the girl's nipple red and then popped it out of her mouth, and moved to the other one, replacing the pinch with her warm, tender lips. Jody squirmed under the assault which came from everywhere.

Malafacha himself was aroused, watching the delicate bow of the girl's trunk as it bobbed in the air - from ripe breasts, now soaking with Nori's saliva, down the rift running the midline of her torso, the very noticeable sink of sensuous navel, and to her pubic hair, barely curled and soft as velvet.

Jody's mid-section trembled and she tried to take breaths. She gasped and wailed, the effort releasing the flood. With a final spasm of wracking quivers down the length of her trunk, she orgasmed in narcotic but intense fury.

As the spent girl lolled on the floor, Cathy began her threats again, low and gravelly this time. Volora walked over and backhanded her to stunned semi-consciousness again. She and Mustafa unbound her and whirled her to the pad. As she lay there, the top of her head touching her niece's, they stripped her completely naked. Then the cat-girls tied the forearms of the women together. Almost mad with fear and anger Matt cursed himself for thinking that tied like that, their heads together, lying on the circular cushion, they looked like the hands of a clock at six.

Then he heard a tinkling sound and looked up. The cat-girls were buckling their strap-on harnesses, then plugged in foot-long, shiny black dildos.

Kneeling between the women's legs just as they began to rouse from their respective blows and drug, Nori and Volora bent their legs, their hands held up behind their knees. They let the long dildos run up and down the women's bellies until they became aware of them. Just as they did, the cat-girls pulled back and thrust just the tips of the faux dicks inside their vaginas.

Both women and Matt began an intense, almost religious, chant of begging. The women's began to become more and more broken as Nori and Volora began stroking a little deeper into them with each thrust.

As Nori began rubbing Cathy's belly and breasts while the fucking got underway, Cathy asked the women in an almost-stable voice to let Jody go, that she'd do anything they wanted if the girl were set free.

"But you'll do that, anyway," Malafacha answered soothingly.

Just then, as one of Cathy's pleas was in mid-sentence, Nori evenly stroked the dildo all the way to the hilt into Cathy's belly. As the dildo penetrated to the very core of her, Cathy's plea melted away into a shuddering moan. Jody, hearing Cathy and feeling movement of her head as Cathy's body arched up and writhed on the long spit, began pleading now for her aunt - begging that they stop whatever it was they were doing to her. In her second round of begging, Volora sank her dildo into the quivering girl, with the same result. At the end of a low groan, Jody made a little plunking sound in her throat as the dildo skewered to the very root of her.

Then the cat girls began an even, deep fucking, to which the women rolled their heads and moaned with each in-stroke. Matt could tell from experience Cathy was feeling deep pleasure, and he couldn't help getting aroused at the sight and sounds of the women's penetration.

Gradually, the speed and intensity of the strokes began to quicken and deepen. At first, the women roused a little in alarm, but couldn't stop lifting their hips to deepen the dildos' wounding. Jody began vibrating first, then Cathy's belly began the unmistakable rippling. Finally, both women burst in long, writhing orgasms - almost at the same time. Their bodies froze a moment in the air, vibated, the sank to the floor as the wracking spasms finally subsided.

Nori, withdrew her dildo slowly, with Cathy dripping from it. Then she sank it back in for any signs of life. Cathy let out a long, low moan deep in her belly as it thrust into her. Nori fucked her to another orgasm and finally pulled it out of her.

Matt's mind was watching the scene from somewhere far away, an echo chamber, so that everything he saw or heard seemed hallucination. His eyes were present, long quit from staring at the floor. He wondered if they could be the same after this... any of them. He knew Cathy teased him about being a worry wart and she'd hate the way he'd try to minister to her, take care of her. ...Afterward.

He looked up into the unemotional, almost friendly eyes of Mustafa. He lifted Matt up suddenly, by his shoulders, and threw him over the small tube railing, residue of the old glassworks. Nothing banged too hard, nothing leaving bruises that would last. Matt yelped and looked up, unable to do much else with his hands and calves still bound. The whites of his eyes, Malafacha thought, looked orange for a moment. Mustafa ripped away his pants in one clean jerk. He bobbed around for awhile, almost spinning off the rail, at one point, but Mustafa's enormous hand kept him down.

Volora walked slowly around Matt and ran her hand down the mound of his bottom. Then, taking her time, touching the jumping flesh below her as she walked, worked her way back around to the front of him. Gently, she was nudged aside by Nori, who shoved her dildo, coated with his wife, in his mouth. She began working it in, then roughly pushed it deep inside as Matt gagged. He thought for a moment how he must look. Then he felt Volora scratch between his buttcheeks with her wet dildo. Malafacha clicked and nodded at Durazo, who shook his head with a curious little smile. He and Malafacha stared at each other a long time. Then Malafacha waved him off. He turned and met Mustafa's gaze, and he stared a long time there, too.

Volora placed the head of dildo at the button of Matt's asshole and shoved it inside, all the way to the hilt in one long drive. Matt made an almost popping sound around the dildo in his mouth, followed by a wail through his nose. Across the room, Cathy and Jody realized that they had nothing left. They couldn't even give Matt their outrage; their anger and fear had long since torn them apart.

From across the room, Malafacha watched them both in that moment. At some point, Durazo must be dealt with, but the whole evening had led up to this: their defeat, their despair. He felt a wash of pleasure course over him; he felt like breathing deeply, but it would be so hackneyed. Their horrible, frozen sadness - all his. Malafacha felt an erection curl from his loins.

They left them on the edge of the city that night, and that's where they were found the next morning, much the worse for wear.