Femme Fatale

Sledge looked at the oversized phallus and shrugged. "In my line of work, I must be ready for anything. Do your damndest, Colonel!" He got back on the bed, and assumed an all-fours position.

Colonel Igetzemov knee-walked up to his derriere. "This is it, you decadent Western swine. Prepare to suffer the ultimate indignity!" she announced, as she pressed the head of the gigantic dildo against his sphincter.

Pressing with all her might, the Colonel managed to push the head of the sadistic strap-on past Agent Riprock's anus with an audible "pop!" Further pushing and swinging from her hips, she thrust it deeper and deeper into his colon. Agent Riprock was well acquainted with the techniques of surviving torture; he gritted his teeth and endured the pain, until it turned to pleasure. His colon, well trained for such tortuous duty, excelled at enduring just this type of abuse. Soon he was thrusting back in his own turn, slamming his buttocks back into the Colonel's hips, tolerating, enjoying, and even loving the awesome buttfucking that he was forced to endure.

"Is that all you've got, Colonel?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "Not bad, but I expected worse from an evil mastermind such as yourself!"

The Colonel only swung harder and faster, and with greater cruelty. She reached around his hips and grabbed his giant cock in her hand, her blood-colored fingernails contrasting with the pale white flesh of his tube of love. She jacked and stroked his cock as she pounded and pummeled his asshole and his prostate. Faster and deeper, harder and longer, she continued her assault, until the inevitable occurred. Sledge reared up on his knees, pounded his chest with his fists, roared in a combination of pain and triumph, and launched a rope of jism against the far wall that nearly chipped the plaster. Then he collapsed to the sheets.

Colonel Igetzemov followed him down to the mattress, exhausted, lying on his muscular back, her cheek between his massive shoulder blades. Her hand was still wrapped around his wilting cock. They both fell into a deep sleep.

An hour later, they awoke, entangled on the bed. Carefully and formally, they extracted themselves from each other and went to neutral chairs to discuss the state of affairs.

"Well?" asked Sledge. "Are you ready to surrender to me?"

"Ha! I think not!" said the Colonel. "Are you prepared to yield to the superior sexuality of the Russian empire?"

"Not a chance," said Sledge, cracking his knuckles. "I could go all week. Only," he looked at his watch. "It's been a while since we've had anything to eat. Any chance of a snack in this joint of yours?"

"But of course," said the Colonel. "Russian hospitality is second to none. I'll take care of it." She picked up a telephone on the nightstand and spoke briefly in Russian. Then she turned to Sledge.

"I ordered three bottles of Dom Pérignon, roast duck, foie gras, ceviche, and five dozen oysters. Will that do?"

"Splendid!" said Sledge.

The food came, and the two super-spies gobbled it all up, sitting side by side and naked on the bed. Colonel Igetzemov even hoisted the final oyster, and slid it playfully into Agent Riprock's mouth as he swallowed it down.

When the food and beverages were gone, they once again faced off across the room.

"Ready to get back to it?" asked Sledge, his voice full of anticipation.

"Bring it on," said the Colonel, a playful twinkle in her eye.

*********************

Three days later, they lay in the bed side by side, his arm under her neck, her leg casually draped over his hips. "Are you ready to surrender?" he asked absentmindedly.

"Ha! You wish!!" she said languidly. "Whose turn is it, anyway?"

"I think it's yours," he said, hopefully. "I believe it's time for you to try to subdue me with one of your famous blowjobs. I may be close to succumbing, you know."

"Are you sure? I thought it was time for you to go down on me again," the Colonel protested. "I feel myself on the verge of being overcome by your efforts."

"You know, Tatiana," said Sledge thoughtfully, chewing his lip. "It might be time to take this little competition of ours to a new venue. This room, charming though it is, is becoming a bit tedious."

"Of course! You are correct, Comrade. I know of a delightful little resort in the Seychelles where we could screw each other into submission for months on end."

"Not the Frégate Island?" asked Sledge. "It's one of my favorites!"

"Yes, exactly!! I have an account there," said Tatiana, her dark eyes twinkling.

"Call them up," said Sledge. "Tell Françoise at the front desk to have the Shangri-La suite ready for us. Put it on my tab."

Tatiana reached for the phone. Sledge groped for his trousers on the floor, found his cell phone.

"What are you doing?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Just checking in with the office. I'd better tell them that this mission is taking longer than I expected. With luck, it could stretch on for months!"