tagNonConsent/ReluctanceCobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 05

Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike Ch. 05


Will the State Police catch up to the Cobra Crew and their hostages? Find out in the final installment of "Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike". What did you think of the story? Let me know by leaving a comment or contacting me.

I'm not sure when we will see the Cobra Crew in action again, but I had a blast writing this one, so keep an eye on this site. Thanks everyone!

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.


Special Agent Natasha Cole of the FBI came to slowly. The first thing she felt was the throbbing pain from the side of her head. Instinctively, she moved to soothe the spot, but her arm would not move.

Panic began to swell in the federal agent when she discovered none of her limbs would move. It took another moment for her fingertips to find the cold, unyielding steel bracelets snapped around her wrists. She found her arms raised and spread out from her, tethered to something unyielding over her head. Natasha tried to stand, but rope - thick rope - was holding her snugly to a metal chair. Her legs were bent backwards with her ankles bound to the rear legs of the chair, and her spirited swaying on the chair got her nowhere.

Cobwebs clearing, Natasha opened her eyes - only to find she was still in complete darkness. Some kind of black hood was strewn over her head. She tried to shake it off, but to no avail. She tried to scream, but the sound was muffled - her tongue confirmed the piquant-tasting cloth packed in her mouth, and her lips were sealed together with tape.

Natasha felt cool air over her chest, especially the tops of her bosom not covered by her bra. Her blouse was open - yes, torn during the fight with the leader of the Cobra Crew. The FBI agent moaned as she searched the fragments of her memory - boarding the flight out of D.C., meeting up with her State Police escort, rushing into the Archives. But she had overpowered the criminal, so why-

The brunette snapped her head towards the sound of a bolt lock turning and a metal door creaking open. Judging by their unhurried footsteps, those entering the room were not her rescuers.

She held her breath as someone reached under the hood - and a pair of feminine hands brushed softly at her face. A surprised and angry Natasha shook her head wildly, which only seemed to amuse her captor.

"You took a nice long nap there, Agent Cole." The voice belonged to the leader of the Cobra Crew, which confirmed Natasha's worst fears.

She was a captive of the very gang she was tasked to bring to justice.

"Lift her."

A pulley turned somewhere in the room, and the restraints on her wrists began to raise. Some of the rope around her were loosened, and the FBI agent gasped as she was pulled to her feet. She waited for the moment when her ankles were released from the chair, and lashed out hard with her foot - but her leg remained stationary, clasped by a pair of iron fists.

"Don't bother." The deep guff voice told her. Natasha knew it was the notorious "Romeo" - the muscle of the crew. He easily rendered her legs completely immobile while softer hands - no doubt belonging to "Vixen" - worked to fit some type of metal restraint on her ankles. The FBI agent protested behind her gag in vain, when he ran his hand up her legs in order to spread them apart.

More chains clicked into place, and when the brute finally released his grip, Natasha found the cuffs on her ankles were fastened to the ground. She could barely move an inch in any direction. Meanwhile, her arms were hoisted even higher, leaving her standing helplessly, straining to stay on the ball of her feet.

"Much better." Cobra commented, the sound of her heels tapping all around the bound FBI agent. Unceremoniously, the hood was yanked from her head. Natasha blinked furiously, eager but equally dreading to regain her sight.

The federal agent found herself to be the center of attention in an otherwise empty, windowless, concrete room. Natasha deduced she was in an industrial storage room, likely below-ground. The only means of escape appeared to be through the vault-like metal door with a tiny window. If not for several construction-use spotlights shining on her, this would be a very cold and dark place.

She was, in effect, imprisoned in a dungeon cell.

The captive agent was surrounded by the Cobra Crew, each canvassing her in their own evil way. Each was beaming with victory, but the Bower knife on the leader's belt and a shiny .357 Magnum revolver in the young woman's hand served notice that they had not let their guard down.

Natasha realized her costly mistake at failing to recognize 'Vixen' posing as the officer at the Archives desk. By now, the ladies had dropped their disguises, leaving them in their natural form - and beauty. Maybe it was the casual sundress that clung tightly to Vixen's body, or the simple black tank-top that accented Cobra's buxom, but Natasha could not deny the two dangerous women were - enchanting? - In their way.

She turned to size up the brawny 'Romeo' and was immediately caught up in sight of the rippling muscles on his forearm. The simple grey t-shirt he had on seemed to stretch in all the right places. Then there was the unmistakable bulge in his gym shorts. Catching her gaze, Romeo winked at her and licked his chops.

Disgusted, Natasha turned away, only to discover a fifth person in the room.

At the feet of 'Romeo' was a beautiful but disheveled medium blonde, who was kneeling with her hands bound behind her. She was wearing a nothing but a black lacy teddy that cleaved to all the attractive curves of her body, its "neckline" plunging straight down to her navel. The tops of her heaving breasts were glistening with her own drool, with trails running down her chin, a direct result of the black rubber ball held behind her teeth.

Strangely, there was a shiny police badge hanging around her neck, the chain sitting over the nylon collar and leash placed on her neck. On closer inspection, the FBI agent realized it was an authentic badge of the State Police. Even before meeting the frightened woman's gorgeous blue eyes, Natasha realized her fellow captive was none other than State Police Lieutenant Samantha Dawson.

"I believe you two have met." Cobra smiled and stepped closer, as if reading Natasha's mind.

"But today... you're going to get to know each other REALLY well."

The venom in her voice was a sharp contrast to her gentle brush of Natasha's walnut brown strands. A furious Natasha reacted strongly to her touch, spearing forward with her head as hard she could, but the woman easily dodged the attempt.

Almost immediately, the hulking giant was behind the bound federal agent and wrapped his lumbering forearm around Natasha's throat and neck. A mere half-minute of his controlled squeezing left her very light-headed, gasping for air.

"Dumb, dumb bitch." After placing several sharp, stinging slaps across her face, 'Cobra' proceeded to tear the duct tape from her face, causing Natasha more agony. "Go ahead, spit it out, I want to hear you scream..."

They watched her labour to expel the soggy fabric from her mouth. Natasha immediately regretted her look of horror when she saw she had been chewing on two pairs of panties.

"Did you enjoy the taste, cunt? The blue pair, that was courtesy of your State Police escort - oh, what's her name again, Vixen?"

"Corporal Robin Bailey." The young woman leered.

"Right. And the other pair, that was mine - actually I borrowed it from the Lieutenant here. Things got a bit messy and I had to change after you tongue-fucked me. That right, Lieutenant?"

The blonde stared around blankly, before nodding at the leader of the Cobra Crew, much to Natasha's dismay.

With a laugh, the brunette turned to the federal agent again, her fingertip marking a trail from Natasha's nose down to her lips, chin and throat. She doodled aimlessly on her chest - and poked at the tops of Natasha's mounds. The captive Brit groaned and struggled fruitlessly in her binds when 'Cobra' took her breasts and kneaded them through her bra.

"Get your bloody hands offff- uhh uhh" Natasha's fierce protest died just as quickly as it started when Romeo made his presence known again. As she gasped desperately for oxygen, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, pressing his growing bulge against her jutting buttocks.

"I'm going to enjoy abusing these." 'Cobra' sang, relishing the fire in Natasha's eyes as her fingertips dug under the white bra cups. The FBI agent mewed in alarm as the brunette grabbed and squeezed her pillowy flesh, before locating and pinching her nipples - very hard.

"The FBI lead investigator, just another victim of the Cobra Crew..."

Natasha's rage began to give way to concern at Cobra's icy taunt. Hours of vexing interviews with the Crew's victims were coming back to haunt the FBI agent: under her own harsh direction, the pair of county Sheriff's Deputies, the ATF agent, and of course - one State Police Lieutenant Dawson - were all made to recount their abasement in the hands of the trio, often in painstaking - and very humiliating - details.

Privately, the Brit was most rattled at the accounts of the officers' forced lesbianism, but she was downright infuriated that the women all more or less confessed that they climaxed under those circumstances. She bristled at their excuses and accused them of fundamentally cooperating with these criminals, while supposedly being held against their will.

And now...

"You wouldn't dare-"

Natasha's nerve of steel began to crumble when 'Cobra' took out the hunting knife, with its sharp and rugged edges. Never breaking eye contact, the criminal brought the tip of the sharp instrument right over her cleavage.

"Time to lose these..."

The knife slashed down on Natasha's white collared blouse, making short work of the remaining buttons. The leader of the Cobra Crew ripped apart the ruined top, and nodded approvingly at the sight of her gorgeous boobs encased in a simple, lightly padded, white Wonderbra.

There were whistles in the room when Cobra caressed the agent's taut tummy, causing her to hiss in anger again.

"Don't you dare touch- ugfffff" Out of nowhere, 'Vixen' stepped in and mercilessly slapped the FBI agent until she saw stars. Stunned, she opened her eyes to see a silver gun barrel being wedged between her lips, and an irate young woman with her finger on the trigger.

"This FUCKING CUNT just don't get it"

Natasha froze at the sound of the gun safety being released. 'Vixen' dug hard into Natasha's hair and scalp with her other hand, forcing the frightened agent to meet her fiery eyes.

"Yeah that's right, you dumbass FBI cunt, WE are the ones in charge here. So you're gonna suck this-"

She thrusted the barrel of the silver Magnum revolver deeper into the brunette's mouth.

"- like a juicy COCK. Or else-" The cold young lady cocked the hammer.

The FBI agent's eyes grew like they were going to pop out of their sockets. Her eyeballs darted around, pleading for a way out, but found none.


Natasha shuddered and opened her mouth. She found herself gaining more sympathy for Samantha and the others by the second.

But who's going to have sympathy on her?

* * *

Cammy smirked as she watched their hostage swallowed hard - and with much reluctance willed her lips to envelop the lethal tool in her mouth. The brunette breathed in and made an obscene sucking noise. Her cheeks immediately turned crimson, and the FBI agent squeezed her eyes shut in shame.

"Finally! That's a start, cunt." Val chortled, her spittle landing on the face of their captive. "Open your eyes and keep sucking!! Don't fuckin' act like you hadn't gone down on a cock before, whore!"

Natasha had no opportunity to respond, as her impatient captor grabbed her head and began to guide her mouth in and out of the six-inch metal tube.

Val leaned in and stuck her tongue into her hostage's ear before whispering softly. "Yeah... suck it real good, bitch!! Let me see your tongue, or else... Yeah. Good. Think of this as fucking practice, 'cuz we gonna put that sweet mouth of yours to good use..."

The brunette whimpered in distress but kept up her awkward attempt at juicing up the hard metal with her mouth.

Everyone in the room, including Samantha, was mesmerized by the sight of the high-and-mighty federal agent being reduced to giving a blowjob - on a gun. It was another minute before Cammy stepped in again to resume exploration of Natasha's set of tits. With her hostage occupied, she was free to abuse and smack the FBI agent's breasts to her heart's content.

Cammy lowered her head to lick the Brit's tender chest, right down to the valley between her globes. She snickered when she realized Ryan's hands were lifting Natasha's breasts, as he eagerly grabbed them from behind. With a knowing nod, they both dug into the bra cups to fish out both tits into the open.

"That's some fine English titties." Ryan leaned over the bound woman's shoulders to get his first look at Natasha's 32Bs. He moved to grab them both, but Cammy already had the brunette's left breast in her mouth and was sucking on it hungrily. Ryan settled on the other titty and roughly twisted her rosy nipple with his fingertips.

"OWWW!!" Natasha screamed when her nubs were targeted by both teeth and fingernails.

"Sensitive nipples, cunt? Well then..." Cammy laughed with Ryan, and the two of them combined to squeeze and tug on Natasha's tits by her nipples. They repeatedly hand-slapped her breasts, relishing the way Natasha squirmed fruitlessly in her binds.

Keeping to their tried-and-true method of pain & pleasure, Cammy returned to the glowing flesh and twirled her tongue around Natasha's exploited nubs. She continued with the slapping though, essentially evicting Ryan from his spot.

Val was observing the assault on Natasha's tits with glee and noticed her lover was expelled. So she withdrew the saliva-laden barrel from Natasha's mouth and pressed it against her forehead.

"Kiss him, cunt." She ordered, spinning the FBI agent's head around so her gapping mouth met Ryan's eager lips. "Hey, listen carefully - I will personally FUCK YOU UP if he gets anything else, other than your lips and tongue. You got that?!!"

"Mmmpphh-" The Brit moaned into Ryan's mouth, his tongue overpowering hers with ease. She was also starting to feel jolts of pleasure shooting through her body, no thanks to Cammy's manipulation of her delicate breasts. At some point, Natasha felt her skirt loosened and tugged away from her body. With a triumphant smile, Val held up the torn-up grey material for the FBI agent to see, before tossing it into the darkness of the room.

"Mmm! That shit's a'right." Ryan nodded approvingly at the federal agent's surprising choice of underwear, given the woman's modesty at covering up her sexy body. A wispy white thong was all that was separating them from full access to Natasha's most private areas.

"What's with the slutty panty, CUNT??" Val demanded, poking and prodding at Natasha's ass with her .357 Magnum. "Talk!!"

"Ughh- the- lines on my knickers were- showing." Came the quiet whisper. "It was- improper."

The response set off a howl of laughter from all three Crew members.

"Improper! You're funny. I'll show you improper..." Still chuckling, Cammy retrieved a pair of nipple clamps and attached them none-too-gently on Natasha's hardened nubs, then yanked on the silver chain linking the clips to see her reaction.


"Hurts? Good. We've barely started..." The brunette smiled and held up Natasha's FBI badge. She carefully attached the ID card to the front clasp of Natasha's white bra.

"Oww... oh lord." The kidnapped federal agent pleaded under her breath, but could only watch powerlessly as Cammy aimed a cell phone camera at her and snapped away.

"What do you think, Agent Cole? Who should we send these too?" Cammy held up the screen for Natasha to see. There was no mistaking the flustered federal agent, clearly identifiable by her FBI photo ID, with her blouse wide open and breasts exposed, shackled and standing spread-eagled in little more than her stringy underwear.

"Imagine the boys' reaction at the Bureau and Scotland Yard when they open their emails to find these, huh?? Their hot-shot lead investigator, in the hands of the Cobra Crew, being VERY improper and all..."

"There'll be all sorts of naughty pics and videos by the time we're through with you, cunt." Val leered at the flummoxed brunette, caressing Natasha with her gun and watching the fight practically leaving their hostage with each passing moment. The FBI agent would learn later that there were, in fact, three video cameras in the room, all trained on her, capturing every minute of the assault from different angles.

"The FBI chick has a pretty hot ass." Ryan declared, after circling back to check out the brunette's tight and curvy rump. The ladies nodded in agreement.

"So, whatcha waitin' for?" Cammy motioned at the hulking giant and his girlfriend, who nodded eagerly and got to work, cupping Natasha's ass cheeks and spreading them apart.

"Lieutenant! We haven't forgotten you. Come here, slut." Samantha gasped when Cammy suddenly turned and tugged on the leash attached to collar around her neck. She wiggled awkwardly on her knees, until the State Police Lieutenant and her teddy-clad body came to the spread feet of her fellow captive.

Natasha was still trying to recover from the onslaught on her breasts when - WACK! - a sharp, painful blow landed squarely on her butt. Instinctively, she leapt and tried to get away, but the restraints held her in place. She desperately turned around, just to see the lustful brute with his giant palm raised in the air.

"OW! Oh, please, don't!" She blurted out in her English accent. Her voice was high and girlish, a far cry from her usual air of confidence and authority.

"Oh YES. You've been a very, very naughty girl-" He cackled in his unsuccessful English accent, just as he scored another direct hit on her right cheek.

The FBI agent shrieked, and shrieked again when she saw Val emerged from the shadows - with a black leather riding crop in her hand.

"No!! Stay away!!"

"Shut your fucking trap!!" Val growled, pausing long enough to cram a large red ball gag into Natasha's screaming mouth and tie the straps tightly behind her head. "There! Much better" She continued to slap the defenceless agent several times, finally quieting her.

"Yeah, smack that bitch up, baby!! Spank her real good." The young woman cheered on her man, salivating at all the potential targets on Natasha's lovely body. "Time to lose this for good, cunt." Val decided, and cut away the already-ruined blouse with the Bower knife, exposing more skin for Val and her riding crop.

"Fuck, you're got a sweet bod, cunt, I'll give you that." Val leered, feeling up Natasha's body from head to toe. "It's just perfect... for whipping!"

SNAP! Val brought down the riding crop to Natasha's breasts, making them bounce lewdly. "Yeah! Take THAT, bitch!" Staccato notes of flesh being slapped around rang in the room as Val and Ryan traded measured blows on the FBI agent. The trio concurred that they would not mark up her beautiful body, but they were sure going to humiliate and torment her.

Meanwhile, tired of using his palm, Ryan decided to arm himself with the S&M whip they claimed from one of their previous home invasions. Designed primarily for spicing things up in the bedroom, the black flogger was equipped with strings of leather tips, ensuring the delivery of multiple stings in one motion.

"Hhhhhggggnnnn!!" Natasha certainly felt all the stings as her tits and ass absorbed the effects of the instruments.

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byhawaiisun© 6 comments/ 13949 views/ 5 favorites

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