Ann: The Married Years Ch. 38

"So how does an agent as careful as you are; one who isn't married, find herself having a baby?"

"Again, that's none of your business!"

He got off the bed rapidly, the old frame springing her upward, the ropes again having a magical effect on her body. She growled as milk spurted a bit, but not enough to relieve the pressure. And certainly not enough to take away the angry burn around the base of her breasts; it actually increased with his sudden movement.

She felt something against her ass. It wasn't a something, actually. She knew what it was, but she played dumb as he started pressing the huge butt plug she'd packed in the suitcase inside her tight ass. As he twisted it back and forth, he pushed forward, gradually opening her back hole.

"Right now, everything is my business, Miss Bouvier. I told you, I intend to get to the bottom of why you didn't return like I instructed you. So we're going to start with your perfect little ass."

"Torturing me won't make me talk. I've been through that before," she said with a determined voice, her eyes peering at him over her shoulder.

"So you admit you have something to tell me," he grinned, pressing the large black rubber plug deeper.

"UUUUGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" She felt her anal ring stretching to accept the intruder invading her hole, but not quickly enough to stop the burning sting. Yet she was more incensed that she hadn't chosen her words more carefully. Now she had basically set herself up. She'd been so focused on why she would have gotten pregnant in the game they were playing that she actually had come up with a reason. But in doing so, she left herself wide open for further interrogating. And the 'wide open' he was currently abusing was her ass.

Panting, she tried to recover from her brief stumble. "NO! I'm just telling you this won't work. We're agents. We're trained to take pain. I've been in my share of dungeons before! But the reason you're wasting your time is there's nothing to tell. I'm telling you, I got delayed in the gift shop!"

Her mention of being in a dungeon almost made him laugh out loud, her inference that she'd been trained to take punishment more real than not. Ignoring her excuse, he continued boring the rubber plug further inside, keeping constant pressure, twisting his hand to help its progress. "How did you allow yourself become pregnant, Pamela?"

"I didn't allow it, fucker!" she barked through clenched teeth, the plug finally seating into place, her anal ring snapping against the recess toward the base to hold it inside, causing her to growl through her gritted teeth. It actually hadn't been that painful, as she'd had it stuffed inside her many times, But Neil appreciated her making it look that way.

"No need to curse. You're not getting out of this until I get the answers I'm looking for. And I want to know that first."

She took a deep breath, trying to come up with a way to appease him while thinking of what she could say later. Still not having a reasonable explanation for being tardy, she needed to say something to keep the scene they were playing out moving along. If he was going to whip her, or spank her, she'd deal with it. But she took pride in her part when they did roleplaying games. She wanted it to feel real for him as much as she did for herself. That's what made it fun. Still, with her already slipping up once in how she phrased something, she wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. At least if she could help it.

"Look, I'll tell you. But only because I'm trying to show you that I'm being honest with you. I did NOT try to sabotage the mission. I'm not working for anyone... especially Sanchez. It --"

"Why did you allow yourself to get pregnant?" he asked calmly.

"I told you, I didn't allow it. It happened!"

"And how can it happen? You know very well in this profession we may have to sleep with someone in order to get information. A good operative will use any means at their disposal to ensure the success of their mission, including sex."

"Is that why you've been fucking me all weekend, James? To get information? Or was it to get me to do your dirty work for you?"

"I fucked you, Miss Bouvier, because you wanted me to," he replied calmly, his words finding her gut. She didn't hear them just as Ann. She heard them as Pamela, and they felt real. It was incredible how it transformed her in that moment. She knew they were just playing, but they'd done that a lot during their marriage. So much so that they'd become incredibly good at it, to the point it was sometimes difficult to decipher reality from make believe. "Now again, how can it be that you ended up --"

"Pregnant?"

"Yes. Surely you're smart enough to know you could end up in bed with someone during a mission. You did on this one. Does the CIA not supply their female agents with birth control?"

"Yes, they do," she replied, her answer suddenly formulating in her head. But given her predicament, she decided to withhold it. After all, what was the point of being grilled for answers if she was just going to spill them at the first sign of duress? If he wanted to play the game of interrogator, she was going to make him work for it.

"So how did it happen?"

Her icy stare made him take notice. "That's classified. Do what you're going to do to me, Mr. Bond. I've got nothing more to say."

His snicker almost made her smile, but he checked himself. "We'll see about that."

"I told you, I can handle whatever pain you intend to dish out. I've been through this before."

"Pain? Who said anything about pain?"

"Yeah... right. You expect me to talk."

It was a line straight out of his favorite Bond film, the hero strapped to a table with a laser about to split him in half, starting at his crotch. But he wasn't playing Auric Goldfinger. He wasn't even the villain. He was the hero, and she was still going to be the heroine. That's why he gave the response he knew by heart, with an erotic twist.

"No, Miss Bouvier. I expect you to cum," he winked.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was incredible how violently the posts were shaking. Ann was pulling at her binds, the ropes tightening, holding her in place as she was ravaged by yet another climax. Neil was torturing her with orgasms, using a big dildo to fuck her while she was held captive on the bed. He was also using the egg vibrator, the dildo forcing it deeper and deeper into her pussy with each thrust.

She knew well enough not to try and count how many times she'd climaxed. It had become evident to her early on he was going for volume as well as intensity. The two were becoming hand in hand; the more she came, the harder they were. And the harder they were, the easier it became for her to have one. It was all so convoluted in her brain. She ceased being, her mind off in some distant place as her body simply reacted to whatever method he decided to use on her next.

He had started by using the egg, teasing her, playing with the settings. He brought her to the edge so many times she at first assumed he wasn't the least bit interested in making her cum as he claimed. It seemed much more likely he was going to make her beg for a release instead. But then he added the dildo, ramming it into her so fast she couldn't breathe at first. The explosion came fast, spilling out of her, rolling down her thighs in a steady stream.

Not letting up, he continued to pump the rubber phallus, cranking up the speed of the egg in the process. She felt the vibrations so far inside her womb she wondered if it were going make her teeth chatter, another eruption coming minutes after the last. All the while her breasts became fuller, swelling to the point they throbbed constantly. He wasn't consciously giving her pain, but there it was, beneath the surface in the way he'd tied her.

He knew they hurt from the way she was acting. They had to, their dark color showing the purple veins feeding them. With there being no power, he couldn't use the pump like he'd planned, so every once in a while he'd grab one of them, pinching her nipple tight, literally milking her like she was a cow. He made them squirt all into a glass he'd decided to use to collect the milk.

"Waste not, want not," he chirped as he squeezed more of the watery white fluid into the clear tumbler.

"OH GOD!" she growled in agony from the way he was handling them. There was also the tiniest bit of relief that she'd expelled at least some of the load they were holding. But the glands appeared to be working overtime, and she'd produce more milk as soon as he stopped yanking on them.

She wasn't sure when he'd pulled the dildo out, only that she continued cumming from the little vibrator buried deep inside. His hand replaced the rubber cock, three fingers invading her gaping hole.

"You seem to be enjoying this, Pamela," he said as he rammed them, frigging her pussy while his other hand pressed onto her lower back.

"OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" she wailed, her body releasing yet another wave of fluid from her loins. Her thighs began to ache, her muscles contracting hard with each passing jolt of pleasure being ripped from her lower half. And yet she had a fleeting moment of clarity, fully aware of her surroundings. "God, I love him," she sighed, just before clamping her eyes shut again as she spurted all over his hand and the bed.

"You seem to have some hidden talents as well," he chuckled as he removed his hand, bringing it to her mouth for her to lick clean.

She never got the chance to respond, other than to mumble around his digits as he forced them past her open lips. Sucking greedily, she shuddered when she felt an even larger dildo pressing into her cunt. She'd brought at least six in varying shapes and sizes, and he'd started with the smallest. From the way her walls reacted, gripping at the lifelike prick in his hand, he was working his way up the scale. He'd no doubt end with the one closest to his actual prick; the Antonio model. The finale was inevitable, but it was a long way off.

He'd spent at least ten minutes playing with the first one. If that was any indication, she had a lot more to endure. At that moment her back arched, pulling at the ropes binding her tits. Another orgasm was about to ebb. She wasn't sure if she could take it, and yet she couldn't wait for more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Ann screamed, the splash hitting her face and chest. It shocked her awake, and she jerked her body back in reaction, only to find out she was still bound helpless, albeit in a different position... and in a different place.

"Welcome back, Miss Bouvier. I trust you're no worse for wear."

"OH!" she shivered, from both the cold water dripping over her body, and the realization that she was still a captive agent. And Bond was still in the midst of his grueling inquiry as to why she hadn't returned.

"I'll take that as a yes," he nodded, pulling at one of the ropes still attached to her chest, making them tighter.

"OW!" she cried out, unable to do anything to stop him.

"Sorry. I just wanted to make sure they were properly attached."

"The ropes... or my tits!"

His chuckle made her anger rise. "The ropes of course. I wouldn't let anything happen to your beautiful tits. I rather like them."

"Could have fooled me," she fumed as she looked above her head, seeing how he'd tied them to the big wooden rod in the closet she was now sitting in. "What am I doing in here?"

"I'm having company, and I don't want to be disturbed."

"Company? What the hell are you talking about? And why am I tied to a chair?"

When Neil had finally gotten to the biggest dildo she'd brought, she'd become so responsive he barely had to do anything to make her cum. He inched it inside with a slow, steady motion, allowing her to feel each molded vein and every bump. Her pussy stretched to take the girth, making her tremble with the methodical way he was inserting it. Thereafter, each stroke produced a tremor inside her abdomen, her cum seeping out almost as if he were pumping it.

Eventually picking up his pace, she felt the cock pressing against the huge plug in her ass. She remembered feeling incredibly stuffed as the final orgasm reached its crescendo. But that was it. Her body gave out, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she slumped forward. He knew she'd been close to passing out a couple of times, or whatever it was she'd do when she became so over-stimulated physically. It wasn't the first time it had happened, and while it wasn't common, it never failed to bring with it a sense of pride whenever he could take her to that point sexually.

Working quickly, he removed the binds from the posts, not wanting to hurt her as she hung motionless. He started with her breasts, making sure to loosen them around the base to relieve the pressure they'd been under. Once she was freed, he massaged her back, knowing he'd put a great deal of stress on it as well, thinking she'd come to any moment. He didn't panic like he had the first time she'd slipped into that magical world of sexual bliss. Instead he took advantage. He knew she was fine. Her breathing was normal and her angelic face was actually showing just how much she loved what he'd done to her. Realizing after a bit that she'd started snoring, he let her sleep for a while. He cuddled her, monitoring her body and how it was reacting. While she hadn't technically been his submissive in the scenario they were acting out, he was aware of the need for aftercare.

About an hour later, knowing he hadn't taken her too far down that submissive path, he began making preparations for what he planned next. Taking the Queen Anne chair to the closet near the door, he placed it carefully inside, going so far as to sit in it, wanting to confirm sight lines. Happy with where he had it, he returned to the bed, lifting her carefully to carry her across the room, the ropes that were still tied to her ankles and thighs, and loosely on her breasts, dragging across the hardwood. It took some time to get her seated; concerned with the way her hands were cuffed behind her. But after some careful maneuvering he had her where he wanted her. Then he went about keeping her that way. He was certain she'd wake up when he was placing her there, but she was too exhausted; her cute snore bringing a smile to his face.

Posing her lifeless body as he wanted, her legs were placed over the high arms of the chair. Using the ropes on her thighs, he pulled them open, tying her off onto the back legs of the chair. Then he tied her ankles to the front legs, securing them. Not wanting her to fall over, he became devious, using the lines binding her big breasts to fasten her to the coat rack directly above her head in the closet. She was sitting up straight, her back against the upright of the chair, her ass all the way in the back of the seat with the plug still firmly in place.

Deciding he needed to continue to give her a break, he made sure the lassos on her breasts were still loose, allowing the blood to flow. They were still on her tits, but they wouldn't constrict until she moved, which didn't look likely anytime soon. He'd left the egg in her pussy, although he'd turned it off when he removed her favorite dildo. With the way she was sitting there was no danger of it slipping out, so he placed the control on the seat between her lewdly spread legs until he was ready to revive her.

A half-hour after he'd put her in the closet, he decided it was time. Taking the ice bucket, he filled it with cold water from the shower, throwing it at her chest and face to rouse her. She snapped back, and the ropes on her breasts constricted, the blood once again cut off. She began sputtering, freaking out a bit, wondering why she was where she was. Actually, she wondered how the hell he got her there without her knowing it. With him pretending to be a secret agent, she wondered if she'd been drugged. It sure felt like it.

Adjusting the ropes binding her tits to his liking, he answered her question. "You're tied to the chair because I'm not done with you. They've trained you well, the CIA have, Pamela. I would have thought you would have caved by now, but I can see it's going to take a little longer to break you than I anticipated, and I have a meeting shortly."

"A meeting?"

"In a matter of speaking," he nodded. Placing a ball gag into her mouth, he buckled the black leather strap behind her head. "I need you to be quiet while I tend to business. It shouldn't take more than an hour or so."

She moaned her displeasure as he closed the closet door, leaving it cracked open. That wasn't by accident, and it wasn't to make sure she had fresh air. He wanted her to see what was going on in the room.

The wait wasn't long. Just a few minutes passed when a knock came. He made his way gracefully from tending the fire, Walther PPK in his hand. But she could see the more threatening weapon he was carrying was the erect cock pointing toward the sound. He never bothered to cover up, using the element of surprise on his visitor. It wasn't a surprise to Ann, really. She knew who was knocking. But it did stun her that he didn't at least put on a robe. Then again, his casual approach suggested her suspicions from earlier that morning might be true.

When Neil had returned to the room from investigating what was going on with the loss of power and the phones, his cock was sticking out of his boxers, and it was just as erect as it was now. No doubt he'd had it out for a reason, and she naturally assumed that reason to be Brooke. After all, she'd been welcomed into the world of Bond in a fringe role two nights before. And Ann had done the inviting. So it only made sense that he would somehow pull her deeper into the plot.

She heard the gasp when he opened the door, followed by a girlish laugh.

"My, James, you do know how to make a first impression," Brooke said as she stepped inside.

"Let's see what kind of one you can make," he said as closed it. Taking her into his arms, he gave her a long, sexy kiss, making her weak in the knees. Carefully placing his weapon on the desk, he pulled back, holding her shoulders so he could peer deep into her eyes, telling her what he wanted.

With a simple nod, she responded with a nervous grin before dropping to her knees. In seconds she was sucking his cock, her hands stroking the base of his shaft and fondling his balls.

He held her head in place, slowly rocking his hips as she moved her hands to his ass. Using just her mouth, she widened it, aligning her throat by rising up higher. Starting slow, he inched his shaft further inside, until she was taking all of him. He paused when he was buried fully inside her throat, holding her still. Turning his head slightly, he looked directly toward the crack in the closet, his eyes penetrating the darkness Ann was shrouded in.

She felt his stare, a shiver running down her spine. He was taunting her; the desire in his eyes showing how much he was enjoying Brooke's talents. It wasn't anything she hadn't done to him a thousand times over the course of their marriage, by her humble estimation. But he seemed to revel in the young woman and how she was bowing to his cock, worshiping it with her mouth. Ann wasn't sure if it was how great it felt to him, or if it was just the fact that someone else was deepthroating him effortlessly, but the expression on his face wasn't lost on her.

"Fuck my face, James," Brooke panted, allowing herself a brief moment to speak. Opening wide, she held herself still, nodding for him to take her.

The action playing out in front of Ann was engrossing, and she found herself wondering if that was how she looked when Neil did the same thing to her. She looked on with a sense of awe, and a bit of resentment.

It wasn't the first time she'd stared into the green eyes of that mythical jealousy beast. It had been a frequent visitor when she was younger, falling victim to her naiveté and lack of confidence. But she grew emotionally, transforming from the small-town girl from Indiana into the sexually aware woman residing in Northern California, like a homely caterpillar becoming a beautiful butterfly. Within that transformation, the bouts of envy became less frequent. Once she was married, they all but disappeared. It wasn't until she'd been held captive in the crawlspace, stripped of both her wedding ring and her pubic hair, that she came face to face with that monster again.