Katrina's Interrogation

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"Now, Katrina, suck my cock." Compliantly she opened her mouth and allowed the shiny tip of his organ to ride in on her tongue. He tasted salty and she tried to relax her throat muscles to allow his stiffness to push its way in. The length of him penetrated and filled her esophagus and she held him there for a moment, making swallowing movements to massage the firmness of his penis. His breath caught in his throat and she knew it felt good to him.

Katrina needed air, so she pulled back and let his hard rod withdraw until only the helmet-like glans was still in her mouth. Then she began to rock a bit, fucking his prick in and out of her hot mouth. As he slid in she would raise her tongue so it stroked the thick vein which ran up the underside of his penis. Then as she pulled back she would suck fiercely on him, as though she were trying to suck the cum out of his balls like cream through a straw. To this, he gasped and began to rock his hips. Pre-cum, tasting slightly like weak chicken broth, was beginning to leak out of his dick and she was surprised to find it pleasurable. At the recognition of what she was tasting, Katrina felt a flush of heat between her thighs as her vagina began to lubricate.

"Ah, Katrina," he sighed, "you are quite good at this. I am beginning to see why I might wish to keep you alive and intact." Hearing that, she doubled her efforts to please him, determined to make herself so valuable to him that he'd never damage her.

The woman was doing everything she knew to give the oral sex performance of her life. Her tongue swirled around and around, polishing the head of his steaming prick. She tickled the tip into the twitching eye of his sex, harvesting another dribble of fluid from him. When she did that his legs and ass stiffened and a soft gasp escaped from him.

"Oh, Katrina, that feels so good," he purred. "Yes, suck my cock, sweet Katrina!" She slowed her pace, deep throating him with long strokes. First, her nose was buried in his curly, cinnamon-colored hairs and then she was drawing back until only the head of his cock rested between her lips. Then forward again, drawing him in with torturous slowness. She could tell that he was breathing faster, and his balls were starting to bump her chin as they inched upwards. He was getting close to his limits, she knew.

His hands stroked the top of her head as it moved before him. Then he was grasping her skull across the ears. "Long enough, Katrina," he growled. "Make me cum, you dirty bitch!" Then he began to force her head faster in its motions. He was actually fucking her mouth now, and she had to be careful with her timing. When he was all the way in she couldn't breathe, so she had to grab bits of air when she could. It made her feel dizzy and she hoped she'd not black out. Through the swirling feeling in her head she heard him, as if from a great distance, croaking, "ahhhh, fuck my cock, you fucking whore...suck it down!" Inside a voice began to sing its joy; if he came, at least it would be something to eat at last!

Suddenly he stiffened and his hands squeezed her head so hard that it hurt. "Aaaah, fucking CUNT," he roared as his penis leaped in her mouth one last time and began to spit its salty load into her mouth. Katrina swallowed as fast as she could, feeling the warm spunk coat her throat and tongue. He was really spurting hard, and the understanding that she had a hard, squirting cock cumming in her mouth made her clit swell and tremble. Slippery female lubricant dribbled down between her vaginal lips and began to form a puddle on the hard chair beneath her.

He pulled back, yanking his cock from her lips, and began to wipe the final dribbles of his semen against the jut of her chin. A new smell filled her nose; the dank odor of fresh sperm. He still held her head, his left hand twisted in her hair. With his right hand he was stroking his still-hard member, coaxing the last drips of semen to the tip to be brushed onto her moist lips. His head was back, bobbing on the stem of his neck with his movements. Eyes shut, he worked to catch his breath again.

Finally he looked down at her. "Ah, Katrina, you did very, very well," he smiled. "That was a good start. But I'm not done yet, and," then he released her head and bent forward, then slid his right middle finger between her thighs, rubbing her clit's hood, "it appears that you are not done either!"

Katrina boiled inside. She was angry at him for what he was and what he was doing to her, but more angry at herself for responding to him as she had. Her body, trained to physical perfection by the military and hardened to deny the weaknesses of all flesh, had betrayed her. But she hadn't told him anything yet. And she still had her wits, so there was still hope of escape if she could get past the guards with their machine guns.

As though reading her thoughts, he spoke, "now, Katrina, I'm going to unbuckle your restraints. I'm going to fuck your pretty cunt, and you're going to do exactly as I tell you. Remember, you can't get out of this room without my assistance, so trying to overpower me will get you nowhere." Then he was stepping behind her chair and fiddling with the buckles and straps which held her. As the belt's bite relaxed she felt relief. Freedom was on the way, if she was just smart enough to find its key.

The last restraint fell away. "Now, Katrina, get on your knees." She stretched, reaching high above her head, her firm breasts jutting out on her chest. She never saw his hand ball into a fist.

Stars exploded in a wash of pain at the back of Col. Dovezcheski's skull as his fist slammed into the cranium. Stunned, she was plowed forward and collapsed on the stone floor. She sprawled forward and lay dazed, his snarling voice in her ears. "Nobody told you to stretch, you fucking whore! Get on your hands and knees now, before I kick your ribs in!"

Katrina's natural instincts for survival took over, forcing her to move into position as he'd ordered. Big purple spots were floating inside her eyes and she didn't really understand what had hit her, but she clambered to her knees anyway. Then he was behind her, his knees between her calves and his stiff penis nudging the round cheeks of her ass. "I'm going to fuck you, Katrina," he sneered. "Fuck you like the filthy animal you are!" Then he gripped his stick and pointed the purple head at the opening of her sex, and without ceremony he rammed it in so hard that her arms collapsed.

Katrina's head still swam as her cheek lay on the cold, damp stones of the floor. Her heavy breasts were pressed to the floor, the nipples hardening from the frigid rock against them. Her vagina had been quite wet, and the interrogator's prick pushed into it easily. Immediately he began to pound her soft and yielding tissues with his horny cock. Almost immediately she felt the head bumping inside her, warning of bruises to come.

"Ahhhhh, Katrina," he purred, "your cunt feels so good. So good around my prick!" He was gripping her by the hips and thrusting deep into her, shaking her with the force of his onslaught. Katrina's head was just starting to clear, but her body was already awake. His swinging balls slapped against her sensitive clitoris, and with every stroke it sent a pleasant tingle through her pelvis. The sliding of his flesh through the lips of her pussy felt increasingly good, and without her consent she was becoming aroused all over again!

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he croaked in a hedonistic litany timed to his thrusts. It all swirled together in Katrina's consciousness, taking over her flesh before her mind was fully aware. To her dismay, the muscles of her crotch began to contract and signal the approach of an impending orgasm. She could feel her inner sheath clutching at the torturer's cock, milking him for his seed. Soft grunts began to spill from her throat as she grew more excited. "You like that, don't you, bitch!" he sneered. He started fucking her faster, his ass pumping as he stabbed his raping rod in and out of her body.

"Ohhh...ohhh yeah," Katrina gasped, a small preliminary orgasm trembling like a butterfly's wings in her uterus. Her clit was swollen like an over-ripe cherry ready to split, and his touch on it sent signals to her that her nervous system couldn't ignore. Another minor cum hit her, and fresh pussy juice flowed in response. It bubbled out around his pounding cock and dripped to the stone floor beneath them. The dank room smelled of their sex, and their voices made weird echoes.

"Gonna shoot it in you, bitch," he was warning. "Take it -- take my load, you fucking cunt!!" Then he was growling and gritting his teeth, and his prick swelled inside her body. He began to ejaculate, his balls contracting and his prick spitting gouts of hot semen into her. This triggered Katrina's orgasm as well, and she began to come beneath him. She shook and trembled, her cunt contracting and leaping inside her as she came. There was a ringing in her ears as another, larger spasm roared through her, and then her knees gave way and she was collapsing to the floor with her interrogator on top of her, his penis firing one last bolt of jism into her before popping out of her slippery slit.

"Shit, Katrina, you're one hot piece of ass," he said, rolling off her and collapsing on the floor. But she was busy trying to clear her head. The ringing in her ears hadn't stopped.

"Hold it," she said. "BUMBLEBEE." At that, he froze.

"Whatsamatter," he asked. He looked at her, confused, his brogue gone instantly.

"The phone's ringing."

"To hell with the phone. Sean wants to play with Katrina some more," and he was reaching for her.

The ringing stopped and they heard the answering machine in the other room click on. "Mom, Dad, this is Davey. Benny's dad was showing us how to do tricks on Benny's skateboard and he fell and broke his arm. He's going to the hospital so we gotta cancel the sleepover. Mrs. Bame is gonna drive me home if you guys are there. Call me back at 56..."

The woman sat up on the cement cellar floor. Her husband muttered an obscenity and started to pull up his pants. "Well, how do you like that," he said, sounding as though he was sucking on something bitter. "The first night we get alone in six weeks, a brand-new fantasy to play-out, and Rodney Bame decides its a good night to be a buffoon and hurt himself! We can't win, can we?"

"Well," she replied as she replaced the folding lawn chair she'd been tied to with old belts only a bit before, "at least we got to play long enough for both of us to cum. We'll do this one again."

"Yeah, I liked it a lot better than when we did 'Little Red Riding Hood meets the Horny Wolf.'"

"Me too." Then she rubbed the back of her head. "Listen, I didn't really mind the clothespins, and those little clips to simulate pins were okay, but try not to smack me so hard next time. My jaw hurts and I think I'm getting a headache."

"Sorry, honey. I'll watch it next time." He sighed. "Guess we'd better get dressed and call the Bames." Then he took her in his arms. "I had a really good time, Katrina,"

She grinned, kissed him on the lips. "What do you say we ask Mom to babysit next weekend and we'll go away somewhere?"

"Oh, yeahhhh..." he smiled wolfishly. Then they started up the short flight of stairs which led from cellar to kitchen, all evidence of Katrina's "interrogation" in their hands.

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2 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 3 years ago

I liked the story, but I don't like the slap and punch parts. I don't mean this as anything but honest feedback either.

Thank you for shraing, Jackie.

AnonymousAnonymousover 19 years ago
The page one interesting

as in goofy Iraqi prison kind of way.

Page 2 I skipped, but the twist at the end was a standard affair.

Interesting, nevertheless.

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