Agent Swann, FBI Ch. 05

With her mouth occupied by the big smelly cock, Natalie could not speak. She had to listen to that tirade while sucking and licking and making all kinds of lewd wet noises with her mouth. In a way, Natalie wasn't surprised to hear that Clive was Joe's cousin. It seemed these inbred rednecks were all related in one way or another. However, the idea that she would have to release her two assaulters just as she had taken her revenge on them made her furious. Ratting on Jade was another matter. She had no love to spare for the cocky blonde, especially after what had happened in the gym showers, but she couldn't see herself breaking the trust of a fellow agent. That would be a far more serious offense.

And how did Joe know about the raid at the gas station? One of those two country rubes, Robbie or Clive, must have recognized her and told their grubby cousin about her presence there, despite her attempts to stay out of their sight. That was the only explanation she could see. Could this blackmail scheme of Joe's be some kind of payback for their arrest, or had he planned to go through with it anyway? These were questions she may never get the answer to, but it now became clear in her mind that in engaging with Joe she might have dug herself a deeper hole than she had first believed. Would she ever be able to climb out of it?

Stuffed with cock and unable to speak, Natalie nodded against his fat belly in a vague answer to his suggestions. He might take that as a show of willingness to comply, which was what she had to do for the moment. That, and reconsidering her options. If throwing Jade under the bus would get her out of this predicament, or at least soften it a bit, wouldn't it be worth it?

"You know, deep down, I think you want me here. Why else would you have left your keys for me to find? I think you can't resist my cock, no matter how much you try to claim otherwise. You might as well admit it, sugartits. You can't fight the urge for a big hard cock, and you know it," Joe said while continuing to stroke her hair and guide her head over his erection, making her lips drag up and down the slick shaft and then down low to smother her nose against his hairy balls.

Natalie was forced to listen to this misogynist monologue without offering any retorts. Her mouth was too widely stretched by the slob's massive organ and she was too focused on keeping control over her revolting stomach. Waves of bile kept reaching the back of her mouth. The smell was so bad, so strong it was almost toxic.

"Yeah, the smell of sweaty balls turns you on, doesn't it, Agent? No need to play shy now. There's just the two of us here, you can be honest with me."

Her disgust had to be obvious in her eyes for him to tell what she thought of that statement... and his words had come just as she had managed to stop another impulse of retching, making it even worse. She was sure she must be turning a greenish shade by now.

"While you're down there, make sure to clean those balls well. They're part of my cock too, you know, and I want to see every inch of it shining with your spit when you're done."

That idea was the last drop. An ignominious noise grew in her spasming throat and suddenly a flood of bile burst out of her mouth and nostrils. As the cock was still deeply embedded in her mouth, the flow had to run around its hairy base, covering his balls and lower belly. Her own stomach was sucked in as she fought against another rising heave, her fingers clawing at the leather sofa as she tried to pull her head away despite the strong grip on her hair.

"Tsk...tsk... Special Agent Swann... what a mess you've made. I hope you realize you're going to have to clean that up." He pulled her off his cock with a soft pop and looked her right in those large, deep brown, bloodshot eyes.

Her face was a mess, her makeup ruined by her tears, with black smears running under her eyes. From her nose and down, her face was sticky with mucus and bile. Her mouth was held wide agape as she tried to recover her breath. And her eyes... they looked so miserable, so desperate. The nightmare had started again and the night was still very long. She could not help but notice the wide patch of stomach acids she had left on her precious leather couch. Unless she could clean it now, it would be ruined in mere minutes.

"Please..." she started to say, then stopped as her voice came out hoarse and broken. It had taken days for her croaky voice to return to normal, and just like that, it was now back again to cheap whore mode. "Please... Let me get some rest. Also, I'd like to clean that mess... the mess I made... before my sofa is ruined. Will you let me do that, at least?"

"Since you asked so nicely, slave, you can clean it off, with your hair." To help her along, Joe pulled out her hairband, releasing the messy ponytail and drawing out the long, wavy strands with his fat fingers. Her curls fell down, some of them touching the messy spot, much to her disgust.

"No, please, I need detergent. I have a special cleaner for leather..."

"You can use your hair, and your tongue, or nothing at all. Your choice." His tone was harsher now, the playfulness gone, indicating he was not going to put up with her complaints. Natalie was desperate. She knew her hair would not do much, except ruin her look. However, her tongue might do some work. She grimaced at the notion of licking up her own bile. It had already burned her throat coming up, and she did not expect it would feel any better going back in the other direction.

To get her started, Joe grabbed a fistful of her soft locks and used them as a rag to wipe most of the wet mess from his groin. She tried to protest as her sore scalp was yanked and her shiny hair used as a cheap mop. She did not know which experience was the most disgusting; matting her hair with her own stomach contents, or licking his sweaty testicles.

Once he let go of her hair, she shook it away from her face and pulled those strands that stuck to it to the side. Then, after a deep breath, she clenched her nose and her eyes and began to lick the bile from her sofa, wincing at the sharp taste. Her nose was so close to his balls that the stench was overpowering and she had to stop a moment to fight another stomach heave. Once she had calmed the urge, she got started again, intent on removing as much as she could of the aggressive fluid from her expensive sofa before it made a permanent stain. As she proceeded, she noticed that Joe's fat butt and balls were leaving sweat spots on the luxury surface and that her precious couch might be ruined no matter what she did to protect it.

While his Federal slave went about her new duties, Joe lit up another post-coitus cigarette and leaned back to watch her work. His spent cock hung like a pale slug over one hairy thigh, leaking its sticky sauce as he blew out the tobacco smoke in Natalie's direction with every exhale, loving the way her cute little nose scrunched up every time she was forced to inhale the acrid fumes.

Natalie was now struggling to suppress the tears that came to her burning eyes. This filthy bastard was defacing her and her sofa, he was spoiling it with his stench and smoke. And here she was, kneeling between his fat, sweaty thighs, leaving it to happen without much resistance. How was that even possible? She sniffed and blinked fast. She never cried, never in public at least, and she was not going to start now, not in front of this pig. But enduring this degradation without expressing her emotional turmoil was so hard.

The jazzy tunes were still playing in the background, and Joe, finishing his cigarette, decided it was time for his strip show to continue. Dropping the butt in her piss-glass to join the one already floating in there, he gave the tongue-cleaning agent a hard slap to her face.

"Music's still running. Get up there and give me the second part of the show. You're still wearing too much, and I want to see some pussy," he ordered. "You'd better get me hard again, or I'll find some other way to do it."

The firm slap made her skull ring and left her somewhat disoriented. She had to brace on the sofa to get back up on her wobbly high heels. As she rose, a thread of saliva linked her chin to the sofa and as it snapped, it landed between her breasts like some lewd silvery necklace.

She moved away past the low table where there was more room to perform. As she began to dance again, she looked very different from before. For one, her face was ruined, glistening with sweat--both hers and his--smeared with mascara and bile, with her hair hanging in tangled and wet clumps. Also, she felt much less confident. She had not looked proud earlier but at least she had had some hope then, she had the goal of making the dance last forever. Now, she was just dejected, disgusted, and filled with the prospect of more abuse for the long hours that remained until sunrise.

As a result, her dance was much less sensual and more mechanical. She was in a dilemma. If she made him hard again, he would rape her. If she did not, he would punish her. She could not decide which was worse. So she just moved her feet and hips, sniffing, wiping the mess from her lower face with the back of her forearm.

She turned around, struggling with the knot of her makeshift skirt. Her ankles wobbled more often now, in particular as her attention was focused on undoing that troublesome knot.

Joe licked his lips and gave his hardening cock a few idle strokes as he watched the agent struggle to get her steps right. Her moves weren't all that sensual, and those tall heels did not look comfortable for her. But it was her efforts that turned him on, her will to uphold her end of the deal--or what she thought was their deal--at any cost. Of course, he would find new ways to keep her under his thumb as the evening progressed, so that when morning came she would have failed at something and given him reason to extend her service. No matter how hard she tried, he would never be satisfied with her performance, and always demand more. And by the time she saw through that plan, it would be too late for her to back out, if it wasn't already. This little brown-haired vixen was trapped as surely as a rabbit in a snare, and the more she struggled to get free, the tighter she would pull the noose around her own neck. He wondered if she could see it, or if she still had any real hopes of getting loose. He hoped she did. It would make the act of breaking her all that much sweeter.

Natalie's trembling fingers finally succeeded in releasing the knot. She unwrapped the skirt-scarf and continued her dance, wiggling her hips while remaining hidden behind the piece of semi-transparent material. From time to time she glanced at her spectator to judge the effect she had on his excitement. The more she looked at him, the more he disgusted her, and at the same time, the more ashamed she was of stripping for him. He was such a lowlife... but what did that say about the one who was submitting to him?

Of course, she was forced to do this. It was not as if she was a slut enjoying the debasement. But still... she wondered how Jade would have behaved in the same situation. Maybe she would just have punched that pig's face until it was reduced to a bloody mess? That idea brought a pale smile to her pinched lips. Maybe she should have no concern about her secrets being exposed? After all, Jade was already quite open about her alternative sex life... Was there something Natalie could learn from that? Her situation was very different though. Her reputation at the FBI was spotless and she had the feeling that her fall would make much more noise as a result. And her parents would disown her if they saw that horrible video. Yet, there was something in the idea of using Joe's face as a punching bag, something she put aside for now but would remember if he pushed his advantage too far. She certainly had the skill to beat him in a fight if it came to that, despite his advantage in size and weight.

She dropped the scarf and began to play with the sides of her bikini bottom, stretching them sideward, pulling them up to bunch in the crevice of her ass, or feigning to slide them down. As she moved, her free-hanging breasts jiggled on her chest with what mass they had.

To drag out his amusement with the slow-moving, half-measured strip show, Joe took out his box of matches that went with his cigarette pack and struck one on fire. Tossing the lit match at Natalie, he grinned as she jumped from the small burn she sustained on it hitting her bare thigh.

"Hey! Stop that! You're going to set my apartment on fire!" she protested.

The glare she gave him in response made him light up another match and wave it around in the air before flicking it her way. This time it came up short and landed at her feet where it smoldered on the polished floorboards, threatening to burn a hole in them. She stomped on the burning match, smothering it under her sole, but leaving a sooty mark.

"That the best you can do, Agent smartypants? I want to see more fire in those hips," he said, laughing at his own quip. "Come on, move it like you do when in your boss' office asking for a raise..." With a casual move, he lit up another match and watched it burn between his nicotine-stained fingers.

She rolled her eyes. Was he really thinking that was how she behaved? Nevertheless, she did not want him to continue throwing matches as this was a really dangerous game, so she tried to improve on her dancing, even though she did not feel it at all.

"Yeah baby, let me see that ass move!" Joe shouted loud enough for the neighbors to hear, followed by a piercing wolf whistle.

Natalie spun on her heels, blushing very red, and twerked her butt, hoping that would make him stop. She flexed her knees, drawing a wavy line with her ass as she went down, then she moved back up and thrust her hips back and forth as though she was fucking some invisible man.

Flicking the match out, Joe cheered as it hit her right buttock dead-center and made her yelp and jump. Again, she stopped her sexy dance to turn around and stare daggers at him. But her attempts at showing defiance only made him laugh harder, his large gut wobbling with mirth. The way she blushed made his cock harden, and he felt almost ready for another round with her hot body. This time he wanted another shot at that tight little pussy of hers, but to do that, he first needed those panties gone.

"Did anyone tell you to stop? Get that cunt out for me," he yelled in his crudest voice, not caring how many of the other residents in the apartment block that heard him.

Natalie was shocked. The walls were thick but not soundproof. What if her neighbors heard these crude calls? As hers was the last apartment in the building, and on the top floor, only those below could hear something, but what would they think? Already, they must have heard the sharp clacking of her heels on the floor from her dancing and wondered what was up. They knew she was living alone and never brought home a date. On the rare occasion she met with a man for some sexy fun, she always made sure they went to his place. Any male voice in her home would sound suspicious. To avoid another raucous yell, she drew her thong down her long legs, continuing to mimic intercourse with her hips. She stepped out of the flimsy garment and wiggled her hips, ashamed of displaying her crotch, shaved and trimmed as she always kept it.

"Now we're getting somewhere. Turn around, bend over, and spread those legs, then start fucking yourself with your fingers. And go deep. I want to hear how wet you are."

This was so vulgar... yet she obeyed. She spread her feet as far as she dared without risking her stilettos sliding on the varnished floorboards. She bent over at her hips and reached one hand between her athletic thighs. Her vagina was dry, of course, and she could not push a finger that far in without pain. So she licked and sucked her two longest fingers to get some lubrication. She pushed one, then two fingers into her tight pussy, wincing a bit at the awkward entrance. This was too much for her. She felt so ashamed. Yet she continued to move, pushing her fingers as deep as she could, in a rather mechanical motion.

Joe began a slow jerk-off session as he let his eyes slide along those long legs, hoisted even higher by the spiked heels she wore. Her crotch was half-hidden by her hand whose long slender fingers were burying themselves deep within that tight cavern. He had half expected her to balk at this part, but there she was, right in front of his hungry stare; a respectable Federal agent, finger-fucking herself in her own apartment for his private amusement.

"I can smell you from here, miss pussyfingers. That's one hot and randy cunt you've got there," he taunted.

Natalie wished she had never come home tonight. Why couldn't she have stayed at the office for some late night work like she often did? This was so degrading. If only time could pass faster. She wanted it to be morning already. Her vagina was moistening despite her disgust and her fingers began to make some wet noises, much to her shame. She did not feel any desire, but her sex reacted against her will.

"Now stick your middle finger up your ass, all the way in!" Joe ordered in a breathy voice, getting more aroused by the lewd show his sexy little slave was putting on for him. He knew damn well she did not enjoy one second of it, but that was exactly why he felt such a rush of power making her do it still. "Come on, I know there's plenty of room in there. And don't you like it better through the back door anyway?"

She continued to finger her vagina while turning an anxious face at him over her shoulder. "Please, stop with that. I won't put my finger in my ass, that's filthy!"

"Really? After all that you've done, that's where you draw the line? Well, I hate to tell you, sugarplum, but it's not like you have much of a choice. You either do it now, or I walk out of here, and you know what that means. And for ruining my mood, I want to see two fingers in there. Now get to it!"

"Don't you have any limits? No pity?" she complained. But at the same time, she was scared by his threats, and gently tried to push one finger into her anus. The tiny hole was clenched in fear and she couldn't force it. In her position, she lacked the leverage and it was too painful.

"I'm sorry... I-I can't. It's too tight."

Joe looked at her for a long moment of silence, trying to judge her sincerity, and then sighed. "OK, because I'm such a nice and amiable guy, I'll give you a choice." He picked up her Glock 22, which was still loaded, placed it on the floor, and slid it over to where she was standing bent over in her whorish position. "Fuck yourself on that. Stick it in whichever hole you want, but make it good. That's my last offer."

Natalie gasped. When he had begun his sentence about being nice and amiable, she knew he was coming up with some bullshit... but that! Using her service weapon as a sex toy... if that was ever discovered... she shuddered at the thought. Yet, he had given her the choice of which hole she could rape with it and that could indeed be perceived as a 'nice' offer by his standards.

She grabbed the handgun and felt its familiar weight rest in her grip. The weapon that had made her feel safe and protected for so many years was now going to be used to demean her in both a perverted and dangerous way. The image of Jade flashed again in her mind. She imagined the tall Amazon punching this pig's face to an unrecognizable pulp, or perforating his fat body with a hail of bullets from her automatic carbine... Natalie only had to aim and shoot and her immediate problems would be ended. But then she would face a decade of legal problems, if not more, and would lose her job and hard-fought career for sure. Her hands trembled as she looked at her weapon, not daring to turn her eyes on her tormentor. If she saw his grinning ugly face she was not sure she could control herself. She let out a sigh. She had to recover those video files first and make sure they were destroyed. Then, and only then, she would seek revenge.