Agent Swann, FBI Ch. 03

The big biker was already straightening himself up, wiping the bile from his greasy beard with the back of his hand. She did not leave him more time to ready himself. Feigning a punch attack at his unprotected face, she lunged a lateral kick aimed low at the side of his knees, hoping this would be enough to make him lose his footing. Given his weight, a fall onto the hard tiles might do more actual damage than the blow itself. Using her legs was of the utmost essence as she could not allow herself to get too close to his reach. She might be shorter than him, but her legs were still longer than his arms. This allowed her to score hits without being hit in return.

Clive sucked the stomach fluid out of his beard and launched another oral missile, this time an aimed spit glob in the general direction of his female opponent. He didn't wait to see whether it hit. While the spit was still in the air, he ducked low, turtling up with his arms curled around his head, and set his feet in preparation for the forward lunge that had become something of his trademark. To this day that attack had never failed to surprise his opponent. The crouching maneuver proved well-timed, as instead of swiping his legs from under him, the kick just bounced off his meaty shoulder. Moreover, this left the karate chick unbalanced as he drove forward, intending to head butt her in the solar plexus and topple her backward.

Natalie was taken aback by the unexpected dodge. She knew her attack would fail even before her foot connected. When it did, she was ready to retract her leg and took a preventive backward step to give herself some time to respond to whatever came next.

His attack was slow as he had to mobilize his entire mass. Yet, it was difficult to dodge and impossible to parry, given their weight difference. Instead, she chose to let him make his move but then accompanied it, rolling backward and using his momentum to try and project him over and behind her. If the move worked as intended, it had the potential of throwing him onto his buddy, using one bastard to beat the other, while clearing her way out of the restroom.

"You're a slippery little bitch, aren't you?" Clive remarked, as for the first time in his life, his signature move had failed. At least he had been able to slip out of her countermove before she had time to follow through. Once more, the two of them faced each other at a distance, a newfound respect palpable in the air, akin to that between two boxers having felt each other out in the ring.

He glanced down at his friend, still on the floor. Robbie was moving now, scrambling to get up. For a second their eyes met, and Clive gave a subtle nod to his partner, who returned it with a tight grin. If he knew Rob, and after ten years of riding at his side he had to say he did, the big man would be out for a hot vengeance to restore his honor after such a humiliating defeat--and at the hands of a woman, no less! He would have to make sure his friend didn't outright kill her. That could be messy, and difficult to cover up.

Natalie was panting. That last move had needed a lot of energy for a disappointing outcome. The fight was back to where it had started. She decided to give herself some time to recover. That brute was too slow for her anyway. If she let him attack first, there was a good probability that he would make a mistake she could use against him.

As Rob was almost to his feet behind the girl, Clive started waving his hands around, hooting and jeering to draw her attention, even making short forward lunges toward her while his friend got in position.

At first, Natalie grinned at her opponent's useless flailing. All good for her, as this allowed her a longer break to catch her breath while he wore himself out. However, after a moment it became suspicious. He was overdoing it, gesticulating to attract her attention. Was this thick brute even able to conceive of something like that? And to what purpose? The obvious one was an attack from behind, but she had not heard anything from the beer bag she had emasculated. Maybe he only wanted her to think there was a danger behind her so that she would divert her attention from him. No, that was way out of his depth. She made half a step backward and gave a glance over her shoulder to check that the first biker was still wallowing in his drool.

Rob opened his arms wide to welcome the stupid cunt who backed up right into his grasp. She even bumped into his chest before he closed those arms around her in a tight bear hug, lifting her off her feet and crushing her to himself.

"Oh, you got it coming now, bitch. No more angels for you." That last part did not make any sense, not even to him, but he didn't care. He had this slut in his grasp, and now she would pay for hurting his manhood.

Natalie had no time to react. How that mountain of a man had managed to sneak up behind her without making a sound was a shocking mystery, but not as rude as the pair of tree trunk arms that now crushed her ribcage. His hold trapped her arms against her side. The air left her lungs as she was squeezed so hard that she was afraid he would break her already injured ribs. The pain shooting from her middle was paralyzing.

The biker had lifted her clean off the floor so that she had nothing to brace against. She tried to kick her heels into her attacker's shins and knees, but her bare feet could not hurt the way a good pair of shoes would have.

With a short victory hoot, the man carried her toward the closest stall, using her head as a battering ram to push it open. Natalie saw the door rushing toward her but was helpless in his tight hold. As her head connected with the door, she felt like her skull exploded. He dropped her on the floor inside, half bent over the toilet, facing the wall. She was too dazzled to react and just lay limp over the seat, her vision reduced to the filthy bowl and the yellowish water at the bottom of it, her arms listing at her sides. She didn't have the strength or direction to resist as he kicked her feet out to the sides, opening her jeans-clad groin to his view. Pulling his leg back, he said, "This one's for my nuts," and drove his heavy boot so hard up between her legs that her knees left the floor for a moment.

Pain exploded in her crotch as her tender vulva was squashed against her pubic bone, the pant seam imprinting itself onto her labia. At the same time, she was propelled forward and her head banged a second time against something harder than itself. The pain and the shock had her out of the fight, struggling to remain conscious, incapable of any coordinated movement. She lay listless on top of the toilet seat.

"Yeah, payback's a bitch, innit?" Rob said, hawking up a rough one and spitting it at the back of her head, watching the thick glob catch in her curly brown hair. Her moans of pain and her trembling legs were a beautiful show to make up for the earlier mishap, as the throbbing in his balls now turned into a much more pleasant tingling. Her torso slid backward, pulled along by the weight of her butt until her head dropped through the seat hole, and there she was left hanging over the edge like a broken puppet, the ends of her long messy hair floating on the dirty water.

The cramped, filthy porcelain world in which Natalie found herself was spinning around in mad loops. Her crotch throbbed from the brutal kick, and nausea clenched her gut. Her blouse had shifted during the fight so that both of her breasts were hanging beyond the edge of the toilet seat. Yet, she was unable to even raise her hands to adjust it.

With Clive backing off to take up a position by the door, watching for any visitors, Rob was left to work undisturbed as he readied himself to mete out his revenge on this fucking slut whore. Who did she think she was, coming here to their favorite watering hole and messing up a perfectly good buzz?

He grabbed the back of her neck and shoved her face down into the bottom of the toilet bowl, dipping her nose into the thick sludge floating around down there. Then he yanked her back up by her hair to look into her woozy but still very beautiful face from a kissing distance. He had no desire to make out with her now, however. That time had long since passed. And this whore was too dirty even for his low standards. Now he just wanted her to suffer.

Natalie moaned as her drenched hair was grabbed for the hundredth time, but her voice came out muffled as her face was shoved underwater. The submersion was short-lived and her head was soon yanked back and contorted. Her vision was blurry, and she had trouble controlling her eyes but the chillness of the toilet water had revived her enough to notice the cruel, hateful grin on her aggressor. Her lock-jawed mouth was still agape so that some of the filthy water drooled out of it.

With his free hand, Rob delivered a resounding slap to that pretty face, sending her wet hair flying about, and spraying the wall with an arc of dirty water. "Thought you could kick me in the fucking nuts and get away with it, huh? You dumb cunt! That was the worst mistake of your life!"

Her mouth moved, and her lips tried to form words, but only slurred, throaty noises came out. She was still too dazed to speak. She even had trouble understanding what he was telling her.

Hand to her throat, he lifted her to her feet and slammed her into the separating wall with such force that the flimsy plywood nearly splintered. His fingers dug into her trachea as he delivered a hard punch to her stomach, the dull thud of it echoing in the cramped stall. Then he gave her another open-palmed blow to the face.

Natalie's body hung limp in his grasp as she was far too groggy to do anything but take her punishment in silence. Her head rang, her crotch throbbed, and now she had the impression that her bowels were reduced to pulp by that battering ram of a fist. Her body jerked around as each punch drove the air out of her lungs until bile started to spurt as well, running down her chin to be funneled between her bare breasts and continue down her flat belly.

"You stink too much to fuck," he said. "Not that I would dip my dick in a set of whore-holes as filthy as yours anyway."

He lifted the toilet seat ring and pushed her down to her knees before the bowl. This time he shoved her head all the way down underneath the shallow pool of yellow-brown water, holding her there until he could see bubbles rise to the surface.

Natalie could not believe such degradation was possible. She thought she had gone to the end of humiliation during the long night with Joe, but what she was suffering now was beyond anything even that misogynist slob had put her through. Her legs and arms felt so heavy that she could not move them. She was his to manipulate as he wanted. The hard front edge of the toilet bowl pressed against her breastbone. As he pushed her head to the bottom, her nose got crushed against the slimy porcelain while her face was wedged into the drain hole. Meanwhile, her breasts, which had remained out of the toilet rim, were stretched and crushed toward her lower ribs as though flattened by a rolling pin.

She could not breathe. She was being drowned in a filthy toilet bowl! That was about as degrading a death as she could think of, even worse than being choked by a cock. With her mind still in a haze of pain, it did not take long for her to try to scream and then inhale. Filthy water entered her lungs, causing more coughing and frantic sputters. Her limbs jerked without strength or coordination, her fingers and toes clawing in blind desperation at the dirty tiles.

"How does that can beer taste, huh? That's the only kind of drink you stinking piece of shit whore gets!" Rob was so worked up he was starting to make little sense again, but he kept going, not able to stop himself now.

"Did you hear what I just said, or do you have shit in your ears too?" he yelled. More bubbles were the only reply he got. He pulled her head to the surface, grinning at the loud gasp of air that she pulled into her lungs, and then shoved her back under again before she had finished the inhalation cycle.

The next time he hoisted her up, after giving her ten seconds or so to marinate in the stinking filth, she not only gulped for air, but she also started vomiting at the same time, her body sounding like it was trying to turn itself inside out.

"Fuck!" was all he managed to express at the obscene display. He pushed her head back over the edge, letting her empty the contents of her stomach in the place where it belonged, and flipped the seat ring down so that it rested across the back of her neck.

He left her in that less-than-glorifying position for a few minutes, taking the time to straighten himself up and calm down a little while he listened to her croaking wet coughs. There was no need to rush things, and now that he had her where he wanted, he was going to enjoy this in a more controlled manner.

By the time she sounded as if she was somewhat recovered, he had come up with a new idea. Unzipping his pants, he pulled them down to his knees, kicked off one of his heavy boots, and freed that pant leg before stepping into the boot again. He liked to be comfortable when he did his business, and this would be a special moment to savor.

Grabbing her shoulders, he flipped her around so that her body leaned up against the toilet with the back of her neck hanging over the front edge and into the bowl, the plastic seat ring now resting on her clavicles. For his safety, he wanted to tie her hands up with something, but from the way her arms hung limp at her sides, she seemed to be out of the fight for now.

Her breasts thrust upward from the steep arch of her back, rising and falling with her labored breathing, the odd padlock ornament still baffling him. She had a killer body; tight, slender, and athletic. He leaned over the bowl and looked down at her face shining up at him from inside, damp with her sweat and lingering toilet water. He had banged her up pretty well, but she still looked bright and beautiful to him. Impressed with her endurance, he had to admit this chick could take a beating.

Lifting one hairy leg high, he straddled the seat and sat down on it, pinning her neck to the toilet rim. Despite his size, most of his weight was toward the back of the seat, but her lower throat was still crushed between the rim and the seat ring so that she emitted gurgling, choking noises as she took his weight.

Knowing she would not be able to extract herself from that tight lock, he took his time pulling down his stained underwear and freeing his manhood. Looking down between his spread thighs, he could see the delicate curve of her throat, looking very vulnerable in its exposed position, her chin and nose below that, and the thick mass of dark brown hair spreading out across the filthy water at the bottom. He had never seen anything so pretty looking into a public toilet bowl before. It sure beat the usual sight that he met when taking a leak in such a sordid place.

Although her face was now out of the water, the pressure on her throat prevented her from breathing unhindered. Her lungs craved for air, her belly heaved in and out to suck some in, and her breasts bounced around on her upthrust chest, but little to no oxygen came through. Not that the fetid air inside her porcelain prison would have been considered breathable under any circumstances; it was a nauseating mix of ass, filth, piss, and her own vomit. The stench was so strong it seemed it would penetrate the pores of her skin, never to abandon her.

She tried to lift her head to buck about, but was too dazed. Her head felt so heavy, its weight seeming to drag her down further into the horrible bowl, and it was not just because of her drenched hair and awkward position. She was almost glad for her blurry eyesight as her view was now reduced to an extreme close-up of a man's hairy ass and low-hanging balls. It was not a pretty sight.

Of all the ordeals she had suffered over the past 12 hours, this one was by far the most humiliating and uncomfortable. The pressure on her clavicles felt like her upper chest was about to cave in at any moment, crushing her under his bulk. But despite the pain jolting through her neck, her well-conditioned body held itself together.

Although she wasn't bound or restricted in any other way beyond the awful seat ring, her limbs remained unresponsive. She felt so weak that she was unable to make more than a few pathetic attempts at reaching for the obstruction over her neck. Even had she had her full strength, she doubted there was much she could have done in that compromising position. She just had to wait it out and hope he would release her when he'd had his fun, and without him causing her any permanent damage in the meantime.

Rob let his flaccid cock hang down and sit against the warm, smooth-skinned bulge of the feminine throat just below his crotch. It felt so much better than the cold hard porcelain that would otherwise have touched his dick in this position. With his package more or less resting on the lower part of her face, the whore functioned as his personal cock warmer in this chilly place, making for the most comfortable bathroom experience he had ever had.

Again, he felt the strain of his bladder, filled to the brim from hours of heavy beer drinking. It ached for relief, and that was just what he gave it. Starting with a gentle trickle, his hot, yellow urine began to pass through the tip of his limp cock, impacting against the creamy white throat below and flowing down over it, running in spidery tendrils over her chin, and parting in twin rivers past her ears with a central runnel hitting the two black slits of her upturned nostrils.

There was barely any sound of the piss stream as it merged with the water below, suffused as it was with a thick mane of brunette hair. The only noises that disturbed the privacy of the empty restroom were the angry sputters and gasps reverberating from inside the bowl underneath his parked ass.

While he kept pissing, he leaned forward and placed his hands on her inviting bare tits, small in size but firm and soft. His fingers stroked the warm, smooth skin along her flanks and then came up to play with her hard nipples, twisting and pulling at the strange but fascinating little padlock and key clipped to her left breast.

She moaned in pain and tried to lift her arms to defend herself. They still felt so heavy she could barely move them. Just as she reached her chest, Rob just slapped them away and they fell back limp to her sides.

With his forward-leaning posture, more weight was shifted onto her trapped neck, and he grinned to himself as he heard the little feminine grunts and choked coughing increase in intensity.

His cock had grown a bit from the heat of the moment but still managed to gush out from his body a steady stream of beer-colored waste, all of which ran over the pinioned woman's tender throat and face before depositing in the lower depths of the toilet bowl to marinate her hair.

Trapped below the big man's ass, Natalie tried to turn her head to the side, away from the filthy stream, but it was difficult to move her head at all, trapped as it was under the seat ring. There was nothing she could do to avoid the warm, pungent shower. It ran down her face, filling her nostrils and burning her eyes. With her jaws still refusing to close up, she felt trickles of acrid piss enter her mouth faster than she could spit it out, its filthy warmth sickening. She was forced to take gallons of liquid waste onto her face in an unending flood with no respite. The moment she managed to blow out her nostrils, they were instantly refilled with warm, stinking piss as if she were being waterboarded with urine. She had some training for that, but knew that in the end, no one would be able to resist such torture. And she wasn't even being questioned about anything. Her last few minutes of existence had been pure hell. Agony and shame fought for the right to be the worst cause of her misery.