Her heart was racing, and though it was summer, she felt an odd mix of cold and heat overcome her body. She could feel her skin against the lace which she wore under the fitted suit. It was dark and she heard her footsteps echo faintly as she marched quickly across the plaza toward the poorly lit city park. It appeared that post-communist Russia still didn't have enough money to repair burned out lampposts.
Her breath was shallow and she could feel the tingle of adrenaline right at the edge of her being. But it wasn't fear that was coursing through her veins. It was excitement. She would rather have met in a public place. All of her training and agency protocol called for such meetings in public places. She had taken an extreme risk in meeting him in a park at night, but then again, like her contact at the agency had always said, she was all about risk. “You’ll get yourself fucked someday taking risks like that,” her contact had always said.
But it is only the unrecognizable that can afford to meet in public places. A cabinet minister could not afford being recognized with someone like her.
It was a risk and it looked like the risk was going to pay off. God, it was good. She felt like she was about to have the greatest fuck in her life. After two years of undercover work, she was about to talk to the key man at the center of the trading of arms, drugs and white slavery. Two years, and she finally would be able to spring the ring. After that, back to the "Dacha" for one more night, a coded message at the usual drop, a plane tomorrow and next week..... who knows... Operations Manager? District Contact?
She stopped, listened... looked ... Confused for a moment by the echoes of her footsteps. Nothing. Her heart. Her breath. God, she was wet!
She reminded herself of the cardinal rule: The next step is always a lifetime away. Never assume you are home free. Between the Russian mafia, whose turf had been invaded by this Arabian operation, and the Moscow Security Agency, who in their infancy still want to show up the her agency at any cost, and never mind the Arabians themselves.... and who knows how many others that had high stakes in revenge... she knew she was a walking target.
A face flashed out of nowhere. One split second, frozen in front of her. A hand shot out clamping her mouth. She hauled out to punch, but her arms were pulled back from behind her. She kicked, connected with a shin. The man in front of her shouted a foreign swear, and instantly slapped her hard across the face. With burning jaw and watering eyes she began to shout, but a ball gag was shoved into her mouth. She yanked sideways and the three fell to the ground, struggling. She was flipped on her back, arms suddenly pinned under one of the man’s knees.
"Now, pretty bitch," he slurred in English heavy with unrecognizable accent, bending over her, his iron hand around her neck, “You must learn to be more friendly tourist.”
She felt the other man kick her legs apart. Wide. And instantly she recognized the sound of a blade flicking open. She muffled a scream against the gag. She felt the blade against her thigh, and then the rush of night air on her pussy as the man cut her panties.
"No," commanded the first man over his shoulder. "Idiot! Let's get off path!" The man bent his face close to hers and hissed in her ear, "Listen, you behave like good little slut and we let you live."
They lifted her under her arms and dragged her to a dark stand of trees. It shot through her head that this might “just” be a raping, and ironically, she thought, "and nothing worse."
They slammed her against a slim tree. The first man took off his belt. Her eyes widened as he slung it around her neck and the tree, then cinched it tight, almost chocking her. The shorter man spread her legs against two other saplings and tied them there, while the first yanked her wrists behind the tree and handcuffed them.
The taller man grabbed her hair and yanked so hard that her head twisted sideways and up, and she felt his unshaven cheek close to her ear, "Listen, whore! We have instructions to bring you back alive."
He pinched her nipples through her suit. Hard! She moaned and sank into her knees, but felt the belt tighten around her neck and regained her stance.
"Lucky for you, else we fuck you and then leave you for the dogs." He shoved his hand into her skirt.
"But little bitch, our instructions only to bring you alive. No one say anything about not fucking you first." She twisted and struggled against the cuffs and her bound ankles as he wedged his middle finger into her cunt. The other man ran his hand up her thigh from below. She tossed her head, only to feel the belt choke her. A hand forced its way into her cut panties from behind and now fingers were sliding over her asshole and her clit.
"Ahhh, you little whore dog. You already wet," he laughed, "You like this, no?!" With his other hand, he ripped open her suit jacket. The knife flashed again as it cut her bra exposing her full tits. As he grabbed one round tit in his huge hand and squeezed, he plunged a finger deep inside her pussy again. She groaned against the gag stuffed in her mouth. Her knees again went weak and she sank into the belt around her neck. The finger curled inside her, hard, and made her grind her hips against it. Oh God, she couldn't believe that she actually wanted that finger to fuck her harder.
She felt the other man's hand probing her ass and she heard him spit on his hands. Oh, God, no! She writhed and tried to rise away from the hand grabbing her, groping, seeking to wedge itself in between her cheeks. Oh God, no, she grunted against the gag, as the finger pressed into her asshole. She was being fucked by fingers, stuffed full from both ends. The fingers were plunging in and out. The man pushed up against her, pressing her into the tree, pressing his weight against her, squeezing her, and then she felt him sink his teeth into the nape of her neck. He bit down hard. She wiggled and muffled sobs and all the while bucked against the hands that were fucking her, taking her, opening her, making her... Oh God... YES... cum, and cum, oozing juices of her sick pleasure all over their hands.
If they fucked her afterwards, she didn't know. She passed out from chocking herself against the belt.
She woke up to the pain of bound ankles and her wrists bound behind her back. The gag was still in her mouth. Her jaw hurt. The blindfold prevented her from seeing where they were driving. She was lying across the back seat of a car. Her ass and pussy were sore from being taken so roughly. She was ashamed and disturbed by how wet she got being raped. What had happened to her pride and independence? How could she so quickly give in to being raped?
The car stopped and she heard one of the men get out and shout to someone to lower a bridge. Chains and creaking. A clunk and the man got back in the car and it lurched over the bumpy bridge and then into what echoed like a courtyard.
Suddenly, fear brought her senses back to her. Being raped was only the beginning. She knew that wherever she was, she was at the mercy of whomever commanded this abduction. The Arabians maybe. Perhaps the Russian mob. They may have already assassinated the minister for all she knew.
If she resisted their interrogation, she would be tortured and die painfully. Even if she told all she knew, she would most certainly die. Her heart was now racing as the two men got out. One of them opened the door, untied her ankles and yanked her out. She had lost her heels and the bare ground was cold and damp. The night air hit her bared tits and turned her nipples hard.
One of them grabbed her and dragged her along blindfolded. She stubbed her toe on the cobblestone, but was forced to keep up. A door creaked and she was led down stone stairs. It smelled musty. She could taste the adrenaline in her mouth.
As she circled the last turn of the stairwell, she felt it become increasingly warmer. They must have entered a room. The floor was warm, the air thick and almost too hot.
She was yanked to a stand and her hands were briefly untied and then she felt wide steel cuffs placed around them, and they were the hoisted up, so her hands were almost straight over her head. The gag was released but not the blindfold. Her ankles were forced apart and cuffed to the floor.
Her tits jutted out of her torn shirt, and under the cut panties, her spread pussy was exposed to the warm air. She suddenly understood that she wasn't abducted by the arms dealers or even the drug connections, but by the white slavery operators. In that case, it was not information they wanted. She shuddered thinking of what she had learned about white slavery. And simultaneously, she felt her cunt flush with excitement. Into what depravity had she descended to become excited at that thought?
The men had left her there for some endless time. She felt a fire burning in front of her. She lapsed between dosing off with extreme drowsiness and jerking awake with acute fear. To her horrifying shame, every time she jerked awake, she felt arousal. She hoped they would think it was just sweat making her cunt glisten.
She snapped awake again to the sound of footsteps descending.
A person came so close to her she could smell a musky cologne. A man then. She felt him circling her.
"So..." he finally said. "This is the bad girl who has been trying to penetrate my operations."
Her entire body was tense now. The voice was deep and the tone sarcastically nice, but she could taste the malicious intent behind it. It also was foreign, but its accent was refined by education.
"Such a naughty thing to do..." he was circling.
She jumped as she felt something leather run gently along her cheek.
"Sticking your nose in other people's business."
Her breath was shallow. She could feel her tits heaving with every breath.
"And from such a pretty little girl like you. One would not expect such naughty behavior."
She was silent... waiting... fearing… knowing she would not be spared.
She yelped as she felt a crop spank her ass. Even through her clothes, it stung.
"What AM I to do with such a naughty little girl?" He circled and she tensed her ass every time her circled behind her. "Well, let's inspect you further."
She twitched her thighs as she felt the crop run along them.
"Ahhh, what have we here? Your panties are torn."
She felt the long, smooth crop shaft run along her thigh and then.... oh God.... back and forth between her slick pussy lips..... oh yes...... she caught her breath and held it, bit her lower lip.
"My, my... I do believe this little slut is wet. Are you wet, little slut?"
She bit her lip harder, snorting short, sharp breaths with flared nostrils.
*Twack!* The crop smacked the inside of her thigh. She screamed! She felt her hair suddenly yanked back and his mouth brushing her ear.
"Answer me, you little slut!" She panted, moaning from the pain of her hair being pulled, and felt her pussy on fire as the crop shaft once again slid along her wet cunt. She couldn’t admit that she was wetter than she had ever been; that she wanted a man’s cock in every hole of her body at once, raping her until she passed out. She was sickened by how scared she could be and yet wanting nothing more than to be used like fuck animal.
He threw her head forward. "Very well. As you wish," he said.
Suddenly she felt the blindfold loosen, and she clenched her eyes as the brightness of the room stabbed into them. Slowly she opened them and found herself in the middle of a medieval torture chamber. In front of her was a huge fire place, as tall as her, and the fire in it was burning hot.
Chains with cuffs hung from the walls, and in one corner she saw a wheel on an angle with cuffs at four places. There was a wooden horse with iron cuff, large enough to lock a neck in place, and the whole horse just long enough for a bent over body, leaving the rear exposed. There was a huge wooden cross with cuffs at the ends. And all along the walls hung whips and crops and wooden batons of every size.
The man was stunningly handsome. He was in a riding outfit, with tall, fitting black leather boots and riding pants emphasizing his strong legs. He wore a black shirt that was open at the top and showed a muscular chest. He was taking a single tail bullwhip with a woven leather handle from the wall. He walked back to her, and circled behind her. Her body tensed with fear and terrifying anticipation.
He pulled over a platform, on which was mounted an odd, two-foot high, phallic pillar. A stalagmite made of iron with wires running out from underneath the base. He placed the thing under her spread legs, directly under her pussy.
"Now listen closely, my little slut. I am going to strip those clothes from you with my whip here. Should you find it too much to bear and your knees begin to weaken, your pussy will eventually come in contact with this pillar, which will penetrate you, open you up, and rape you. And the more you sink the more this will gorge your pussy open. Should you be on it for longer than five seconds, it will send a shock right through your pussy. Not enough to kill you, but enough to give me pleasure in seeing you convulse.
“You see, my little pussy, I have had my eye on you for some time. Your beauty is stunning. Your smarts admirable, and your independence, yes… well, here is the deal: If you withstand the lashings without getting shocked in that little luscious cunt of yours, then you keep your independence. If not, you surrender it to me."
The first lash struck her along her back and she screamed. The lash had cut through her suit jacket and just barely kissed her skin fire hot. Adrenaline flooded her mouth like a cock exploding with cum. And suddenly she knew she was lost. Ready to abandon all independence and pride. Eager to give in to a desire that had always been deep inside her: to be owned. Owned like an animal that is used for fuck pleasure. Used and abused like a piece of meat whose sole purpose is to be wrapped around hard cock and fucked. Splashed with cum of one or many, as seen fit by a master whose cock she would live to please and serve.
The second lash came down across her shoulders. She moaned and arched her back away from what she knew she couldn't avoid.
The lashes came regularly then, one after the other. He moved around to her front and she clenched her eyes in fear of getting struck in the face, but he was obviously an expert. The whip cut from the nape of her neck along her collarbone between her breasts, shredding her clothes. She felt herself being stripped by his whip. More skin and body exposed with every lash. Until, lash by lash, she was naked. Tits, cunt, ass, all vulnerable for his sadistic pleasure.
Another lash kissed her nipple, stinging it with extreme pain. Oh God. She didn't know if she could bear it. Sweat between her legs mixed with her cunt juices and oozed down her thighs. The lashes burning into her body. The red welts rising on her belly, her back, her ass, her stomach. Oh God, and she was wet, but couldn't take it anymore and was sinking, couldn't hold herself up any more. She feared the impalement of huge steel cock and wanted it so badly to rip her pussy open. The lashes seared into her, sweat ran down her body, she was ... Oh God.... yes, the fat cock pushed into her... she was being whipped and fucked... the cock split her pussy open further as she sank on to it deeper. The cuffs pulled her arms tight, her tits were being pushed out, and then...
Ahhhh!!! Stung again by the whip! And she sunk further, her pussy gorged, raped... Unnnnnggghhhhh, YES... She grunted like an animal. She was riding the iron cock, grinding her cunt onto it to impale it further into her body... She wanted to force the cock through her whole body and out her mouth, to have her whole naked body impaled on a fuck stake and marked and welted, exposed, her tits, her pussy, her ass, all for his taking, his whipping, his pleasure, oh yes the pleasure of the AAAHHH!!! The shock sent pulses through her body clenching her pussy and throbbing her body. She convulsed in waves of shuddering pain and cum and tears and sobs... and blackness, an empty void of blackness and pure pleasure.