Agent Swann, FBI Ch. 02

She yelped. Her firm, toned buttocks pointed in the air as her face rested again on the stinking mattress. With her pants around her knees, she had lost more of her freedom of movement as she was properly hobbled now. Only her panties were left as a meager protection against rape.

"Mmm, unhhh," Joe breathed in shallow puffs into the back of her neck, turning himself on by leaning over and exploring her firm young body. The sweet smell of her perfume mixed with her natural feminine scent drove him crazy. Underneath her jeans, he found that she wore a pair of tiny black string panties, and he fingered their silky fabric in appreciation.

"You put these on for me, slut? How nice of you. I like a bit of enthusiasm in my whores." He drew two fat fingers up along the front panel, over her covered crotch, feeling warm dampness there. "You know, I was wondering before if you were shaved or not down here... guess I'll find that out... Oh, but you're soaking wet, pig cunt. Looks like you really are that rape slut you claim to be."

Much to her shame, he was right. She was soaking wet down there. Her string was moist and musky with her juices.

By this time, Joe's erection was like an iron rod, and he moved even closer to her body, pressing up on her from behind to feel it rub against her. When that wasn't enough, he lifted the hem of her blouse so he could slip his cock underneath the soft material and let its curved length rest up against the small of her back, the slimy tip drooling precum along her naked spine.

"Can you feel that?" he whispered in her ear. "That's how far up your ass you're going to get it."

She could feel it very well. It was big, maybe not as big as in her fantasies, but they had always been unreasonable on that matter. But big enough anyway. It would stretch her virgin anus as it seemed it was the hole he had chosen to plunder. That was good, as she did not think she'd be able to orgasm in that way. It would also be safer, from a health point of view... probably. Plus there was no risk of her getting knocked up, of course. He did not seem like the condom-wearing type, and she had left herself foolishly unprotected. She could also feel his massive balls resting against her crack. She imagined them full of hot sperm that would mark her body and soul with its foul spray. Pervertedly, she squirmed her butt back and forth, helping to rub the cock in the valley between her cheeks.

"I'm disappointed. I had hoped you'd have a bigger cock..." she slurred, hoping to anger him.

"Ooh, a feisty one, I like that! You're sexy when you try to act tough, agent. But it's pretty clear your body doesn't agree with you on that point. I can tell a needy whore cunt when I see one."

She blushed, but as he was behind her, he could not see it. Acting like such a wanton slut was not in her nature. Quite the contrary, in fact. At work, she was better known as the ambitious ice queen. Tonight was different though. Now that she had dipped her toe into the foul mire of depraved sex, she wanted the full package. She wanted to suck its juices out to the last drop. After all, this was going to be a once-in-a-lifetime feast of freakiness, and she craved to experience everything to the max.

"Besides, that attitude of yours makes me think you can take more punishment, am I right? After you leave here tomorrow--if you leave-- you'll be wearing turtlenecks and long sleeves for weeks. And yes, you will feel my cock, every inch of it. Don't you worry."

"You're a sick bastard!" She hammered in her words by stomping her right heel onto his bare toes, as hard as she could in her hobbled and unbalanced position.

"I am indeed. But what does that make you? You're the one that came to me, rememb... Aoowww, BITCH!"

He grabbed her neck from behind and threw her across the room to crash against some empty cardboard boxes in the corner. "Try that again, bitch, and I'll fucking kill you right here!"

Unable to absorb the impact with her arms, she crashed into the boxes before falling onto the floor, bruised and dazzled by the violence of his reaction. Maybe she had gone a bit too far with her taunts. She moaned, curling into a protective ball. She had only hoped he would tie her down some more, not kill her!

"Looks like we're doing this the hard way. You brought this on yourself, cunt," he said with a growl as he walked up to her and delivered a nasty kick to her stomach.

"Please... I'm... AOoooowwwwchhh!"

When he heard the air leave her lungs in a whoosh, he kicked her again, this time in the ribs. He wasn't going to stop until she proved compliant, even if he had to break a rib or two to make his point.

She yelped again, winded and in agony, gritting her teeth and crying. This guy was massive and stronger than he looked. His kicks felt like battering rams to her gut. He could kill or cripple her with such blows! To protect her belly, she pulled her thighs tight against her chest, desperately trying to recover her breath to plead for mercy. But there was no air left in her lungs.

"Are you going to be good?" he asked, then when she didn't answer, he reached down, grabbed her hair, and yanked her back to her feet with a strong pull of his arm.

She grimaced in agony, sure that her scalp was going to be torn from her skull. Her ribcage hurt with each breath and she was now fearing for her life. This had gone too far, well beyond her wildest fantasies, and she just wanted to put things back on track.

Staring into her face from close up, he studied her delicate features. Her cheeks had started to redden and she looked a little swollen around the eyes from the hard slaps she had taken, but he knew that was nothing compared to what would come. Still, he had to remember to leave her presentable for work tomorrow. He didn't want her to draw any unwanted attention if he could avoid it. She did work for the Feds after all, and who knew what they would do should they suspect something was off with one of their own. The last thing he needed was for them to launch a full-blown investigation against him.

She tried to speak, but no words came out of her cramping belly. She tried to nod instead, but as he was holding her whole weight by her hair, she could not move her head much. All she could do was to turn pleading, crying, mascara-smeared eyes at him, hoping it would be enough to attract his pity.

He loved those big, brown, sad eyes of hers. And the look she had in them now was just what he had wanted to see. Not yet broken, but well on her way to becoming his tamed little slave slut.

"What did you have in mind when you came here, agent?" he asked. "Did you think this was going to be some kinky little sex party? That we'd play around with safewords, fluffy pink handcuffs and toy whips? This is real, bitch. You'll be lucky to leave here with all your parts intact, and that's IF you please me, which you have not shown yourself capable of doing so far. I suggest you start using that slutty pile of mush you have between your ears and show me some filthy moves, or we'll call this thing off. I'm beginning to tire of your tricks."

Desperate to break that violent fit, she tried to wiggle her butt and breasts in a lewd way to entice his interest, but she was still too dazzled and winded to give a good show. It was pathetic, she knew, but it was the best she could do in her current state.

Joe just laughed at her feeble attempts to charm him, not impressed. "I thought you fancy agents were supposed to be smart. I have no idea how you made it into that suit. Clearly you fucked your way to the top. So show me some of that attitude now. Show me how you seduced your superiors," he taunted, trying to coax some spirit out of her, to push her limits.

That angered her. She was proud to have succeeded in her job thanks to her competence. Of course, this was hardly the moment to argue about it. She had to get out of this alive first.

With a sigh, Joe threw up his hands and left the dizzy agent half crumpled on the bedroom floor and went out the door to get some fresh air, where the stink of desperate cunt wasn't so prevalent.

* * *

It was quiet outside, the still of night having descended upon the ramshackle community of outcasts and rednecks that he lived in. There wasn't a soul in sight, which was the way he preferred it. His neighbors knew to stay away from him and mind their own business, and in return, he left them alone. Right now, that silent understanding was quite welcome. Even if he trusted most of these halfwits not to rat on him, he didn't want any witnesses to what transpired here tonight.

Stepping into his clogs, he headed for the shed where he stored most of his equipment and tools. This bitch he had caught was strange, maybe even a bit off the rails, but she was much too hot to let off the hook, and he had let things progress too far already to stop now. He just had to make sure she wouldn't talk, and then he could continue with the plan to mold her into his bitch slave. Everything was set up to record her shame, and once he had gathered enough material on her, he could set things in motion. In the dim light of the bare bulb dangling from the rusted shed roof, he smiled. That smile only widened as he found what he'd been looking for.

* * *

Natalie writhed on the dusty floor, gasping from the pain, not daring to move as she tried to recover her breath. With her jeans around the knees, she could not move her legs much and as they were tight, it was not easy to pull them up or down with her cuffed hands. Running away was hopeless in her current state. She could not even get into her car without her keys and could not drive without her hands. She decided it was better not to anger him further with a futile escape attempt. She had better chances by waiting for his return and trying to placate him.

She wondered where he had gone off to. He knew very well she could not go anywhere. He might even be waiting for her to make such an attempt, just to punish her. So she just waited, recovering her breath and some strength. Moving a bit, she judged that her ribs had been bruised but not fractured. That one had been too close to the edge. She had to soften him before it went too far.

As Joe returned to the main trailer, he had recovered some of his lost libido thinking about the bound and smacked-up bitch that awaited him inside and what he was going to do to her next. His cock was again hard in his sweatpants, and he knew that soon, very soon, it would find a tight warm place to grow comfortable.

As soon as she saw him, she lifted her head from the floor. She had not moved from where he had left her. She looked at him with sincere, pleading eyes.

"I'm sorry for the kick. I'll be good. I was only hoping you would tie me up some more. I should have asked politely, I guess?" She made her voice sound as apologetic as she could. Hopefully, being honest with him would soften his rage.

"Funny you should ask. I was just thinking the same thing," Joe said, holding out one hand, a wide black leather dog collar dangling from his fingers. "Guess where this is going?"

Natalie smiled at the sight. Her fantasy was back on track. "That's used to keep bitches like me obedient," she said with a wink.

Joe went up to her, nodding. This was the attitude he wanted to see. "Close, cuntbreath. It's an obedience collar, alright, used to train naughty, wild bitches into submission, to let them know forevermore who their master is. In fact, I've used this one on two of my dogs to tame them, and now it will serve to break in a third. As he came closer to where she was sitting, he held the collar up to her so she could see it in detail. The worn leather was stained with dried dog saliva, and here and there tufts of rough fur sprouted from its dirty circumference where it had gotten caught in the lining. The thing reeked of wet dog.

Natalie wrinkled her nose at the nasty smell. It was a sturdy thing, made of thick and wide leather, devised to hold a big animal. She shuddered at the sight, wondering how it would feel against her slender neck.

He unfastened the thick leather strips that held the band together, opened the collar up, and wrapped it around the agent's waiting neck, not caring how much of her long hair got caught in the process. When the collar was in place, he just yanked the trapped curls out, leaving more than a few human brown strands adding to the dog hairs already there. Then he tightened it, going notch by notch until he saw her eyes widen in distress. Yet he kept going. He wanted it to be as tight a fit as the bitch could manage without choking to death. He wanted for her to feel the presence of her bondage with every breath she took, to remind her of her status, and to be uncomfortable swallowing past its grip, and she would do a lot of swallowing in her near future. Yes, almost there... He finished his work with a final, quick tug of the leather and a pat on her cheek.

"There you go, sweet buns. What a pretty little pet you'll make."

Not only was the collar thick but it was also tall, wrapping her neck almost from her clavicles to her jawbone. It felt rough against her tender skin and that feeling only grew worse as it was tightened. At first, the situation excited her but as the collar started to choke her, her concerns grew.

"Not so... ughk... tight! You're cho...king me!" she complained, but that only made him pull in another notch.

Her eyes bulged out, her mouth gaped wide and her breath turned to a labored hiss. Her face grew red as she had to work hard to get every breath in, and then even harder to push it out. Each respiration cycle required a conscious effort and drew more pain from her bruised ribs. It was a horrible sensation, anguishing and humiliating. It even deprived her of normal speech as she could not spare the required air for it, all her efforts being focused on the simple act of breathing. The collar also had a deep psychological effect, reducing her to the rank of some dumb animal, as if she was no longer an intelligent human being. That thought filled her heart with both anger and humiliation.

Feeling satisfied with his pet's constraint, Joe took out the leash next, a long silvery length of chain with a leather handle to wrap around the owner's wrist, and attached it to the steel ring protruding from the front edge of the collar. He gave it an experimental yank, smiling as he waited for her reaction. What she didn't know was that along the inside of the leather lining ran a concealed choke chain that would constrict around her throat whenever he pulled the leash, and by the shocked look in her eyes she had just discovered this.

Natalie hissed and gurgled as her throat was suddenly constricted even tighter, cutting all of her air supply. Acting on instinct, she tried to crawl toward him to loosen the choke. With her arms behind her back and her knees hobbled, this was not an easy thing to do. She now understood that when he had called this an obedience collar, he had not been lying. It made her helpless and eager to do whatever he ordered. It was crazy, it was dangerous, and going far beyond her wildest fantasies. But she was in no position to change anything now. She could only hope he would not just strangle her to death.

"Let's see if you can obey some simple commands, agent pet. Even the stupidest dog could do these tricks. Sit!" he ordered, holding her lead tight with one hand and pointing to the floor with the other as if directing an animal.

This was so degrading! She hated it with all her mind. She had no choice though, not wanting to experience the deadly choke again. She struggled to curl her knees under her and then sat on her haunches, keeping her torso straight, hoping this was the position he had in mind.

"Good bitch. Not bad at all. And on your first try too! You make your owner proud." He fished around in his stained pocket and brought out a couple of lumps of dried liver, a favorite treat of his dogs, and held them out before her face as a reward.

She wrinkled her face in disgust and shook it, not wanting to eat that stuff. She was still panting and hissing hard against the strangling collar.

Furrowing his brow in anger, he put tension on the lead, once again constricting her airways to enforce his order. His hand remained in front of her face, pushing the unappetizing bits toward her lips.

Natalie realized she had no choice but to accept the reward. She pressed her nose into his moist palm and took the treats with her lips. She hated liver, and even just the smell of it made her gag. But these things were not that bad. Mostly bland and salty, though with a pretty nasty aftertaste. She chewed them to crumbles before trying to force them down her strangled gullet, which was no small feat.

He nodded and gave his next command, "Now roll over, girl!" Giving her some slack to perform, he looked at her expectantly. "Come on, this one's easy. I'm sure you're used to being on your back with your legs spread," he added, now addressing her human side. He snuck a glance over to the other side of the room, where he had positioned the hidden camera earlier, and hoped it would cover this angle. They weren't standing quite on the spot he had tested, but it should be close enough to capture most of the action.

Natalie frowned. This wasn't funny at all. This was just pure humiliation. She hated dogs, she despised them, and being treated like one was not one of her fantasies.

So she lay herself down on the dirty floor and rolled, first to her back and then to her belly. With her jeans still wrapped around her knees and her hands cuffed behind her back, the maneuver was difficult and painful, but she managed it on the first try. She stopped in that position, her breasts pressed against the floor, her shirt all crumpled and twisted around her chest, trying to keep her nose off the floor's filth. She realized that the collar prevented her from turning her head to the sides, lest it would choke her more. By now she was sweating profusely as even the least of movements exhausted her in her state of continuous asphyxia.

"Aaand up again!" Joe said cheerfully as he pulled hard on the leash, lifting his collared dog bitch back up on her knees by her neck.

Natalie's eyes almost popped out of their sockets as the collar constricted her neck with brutal and sudden force. She struggled to get her legs under her and get on her knees, straightening her thighs and torso to be as tall as possible, all along making ugly gurgling noises through her strangulated throat. She was trembling hard, as even in that position she could still feel some tension on the choking chain.

"That wasn't very good, slut, but about as much as I could expect from a mangy cur like you. Maybe you'll do better playing fetch? That was always a favorite of my old bitch." Joe reached down and unhooked the leash from her collar, then took out an old chewed-up rubber ball from his pocket and tossed it across the room. It bounced off the wall and came to rest a few paces from where they stood. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for her to move. When she just looked at him with a dumb expression on her reddened and strained but still very beautiful face, he pointed to the ball and clarified, "Fetch the ball. In your mouth. On your knees. Now." in a slow speech as if she was a child or a retard.

Natalie would have sighed if she had had enough air in her craving lungs. She felt so tired from this constant battle against asphyxia. At least she was no longer leashed and she had better not anger him again. Thus, despite how humiliating it felt, she crawled the short distance that separated her from the ball. With her jeans stuck around her knees, it took her longer than expected as she had to shuffle her legs in tiny steps. The practical part of her mind was glad she had chosen sturdy pants that would not get ruined by this kind of exercise.