Strange Queens Ch. 02: Kidnapped Love

And now she had his cock in her hand. She began to massage, wanking him, drawing long, twisting motions up and down. He was big and thick, like the rest of him, easily a very large cock in either measurement. His tip was red and pulsing and his lightly haired base stood out with intricate little veins. She worked it, worked it as best she could, drew her hand right from the bottom all the way up till she was cupping, squeezing his helmet, all the while twisting her wrist to maximize pleasure. His breathing was coming fast now and her lips were growing numb and constant, relentless massaging. She let go with a smack, licking them, tasting him on her, making sure he saw her sucking every single drop she'd got from him and swallowing sexily. Never looking away she bent low, her ass high, and beheld the behemoth penis. Fuck, she thought. Oh fuck, oh fuck me fucking god. It was beautiful. It was absolutely huge. A glorious pole of rock hard length stood proudly grasped in her hand, a big red cap and soft rubbery foreskin stretching it's length. He would easily stretch her aching pussy to breaking, she thought, and shivered, clenching, feeling him forcing her tight cunt wider as he pushed into her already.

She had to have it. Had to. She needed it. She didn't think even a direct order from him, an absolute raging command, would stop her now. She opened her mouth wide, puckering her lips, and pushed her head down on him. She took it all in seconds, and it slid easily right down her throat. She gagged but she was totally blocked, so her windpipe just clenched around him, making him feel even more amazing. Reaching out he put his huge hands on her shapely black clad ass, her perfect behind presented to him as she took him in her throat. He lifted a hand and brought it down hard on her rump. Chelsea jolted and despite the sausage in her throat, her eyes widened, she choked out a moan of total ecstasy, and her eyes fluttered, rolling back. She was lost now, lost to the sensations, lost to the animal lust, lost to the absolute necessity of fucking him dry.

She began to rock, bobbing her head. She sucked and sucked and throat-fucked him, and every few jolts he'd slap her rear and cause her to practically cum again and again. Within several slaps his other hand had slid further and his fingers were flicking her cunt, pressing into the tight black leather, forcing against her aching pussy lips. Still she took him, felt pre-cum seeping down her throat, warming her insides.

Then, before she blacked out, she withdrew, slurping cum off his length, a trail of sticky white linking her mouth to his red pulsing meat. Chelsea wasted no time, throwing herself back and forcing her zip down, pain of catching it on her skin only arousing her more. She forced it off her hips and down, her legs wide, and he grasped it and pulled. It came away and she was naked. Her legs fell wide open and her quivering cunt was bared to him, hairless red labia, dripping wet, cum covering her inner thighs and all around. She was already open, already welcoming a cock. She couldn't have been more ready. She scooted forward and he grasped her hips, lifting her effortlessly and guiding his monster member into her. His head touched, she gasped. He began to push and she felt a wave of total pure fucking orgasmic joy hit her. Then, gripping her hips, he rammed himself home.

The result was instantaneous. She took his massive length and it filled her. It, totally, filled her. Stretched to total maximum, every single tiny ripple inside her pussy massaged and coaxed and soothed and wanked and milked and sucked his cock into her, his ripples running rapidly against her clit hood and sending her from 1-9 in a flash. Her mouth fell open, she shook with the entry, her whole body caught in the heavenly limbo of sex. As if in slow motion, he withdrew, every single ripple rolling against her entrance, her whole body seeming to rock with them as though they were in a car going over endless speed bumps, except these speed bumps were the ripples in his cock. In what felt like minutes, he had gone right out, till just the helmet was in her. Then with shocking ramming power he crashed into her again.

Fuck endurance. Chelsea's pussy clenched and she gripped the sheets, a long totally uncontrolled primal moan soaring from her open mouth, her eyes fluttering, her whole body totally attuned and functioning as one, as though she was one great, big, human pussy for him.

The third entry got them both. Chelsea grabbed him and looked right into his eyes, locking contact and practically screaming, hands gripping his shoulders. Her cunt sucked, tensed so hard it squeezed him in her, her legs wound tight around his hips, pulling her onto him. Her first clench, the moment of tipping into orgasm, actually held for a second, so powerful was the orgasm that even that minute point took time. Then in seconds she was pulsing, wave after wave after wave after wave of her cum squirting out of the tiny gaps around his massive meat.

So hard was her orgasm, so tight did she clench that Paulo came too. Already inches away she more than coaxed him and he shot his load hard, his semen crashing deep into her, so hard he felt it shooting out even from deep in her body.

Thirty seconds past where the two just held each other, the only movement their connected groins, him deeply buried inside her, her stretched to bursting around him. Even from outside they both visibly came, their stomach muscles and pelvic floor muscles clamping, tensing, rhythmically pulsing cum from them. When they had finished, Chelsea fell back, totally spent, flopping onto the bed, cum, sweat and tears flowing from her and dampening the sheets under her. Paulo fell over her, both hands holding him up, his cock dangling before him, dribbles of cum still dripping from him, his whole crotch slick with their juices. He looked down at her and smiled, jubilant laughter erupting from him. The two looked at each other and laughed, giggled, and then held each other tight, embracing, loving, coming down from the heavenly ecstasy together.

* * * * *

Three days.

Though she didn't know it, Jordan spent three days in her cell. Naked. Cold. With only the regular hatch openings to drop food and water to her, every time blinding her, every time deafening her, every time allowing laughing, jeering people to gawk at her cowering below, to keep her looking forward to something. Without those, Jordan would have no idea of time at all.

In her solitude, Jordan had devised a sonar-like visibility. In the total pitch black, she had to make out her surroundings, unable to rely on using the light from the short visits she had as the bright light would blind her sensitive eyes which would have gotten accustomed to the dark long before. Alone on her first night in, Jordan had been laying flat on her back, resting, trying to relax, half way between the bucket and the wall when, for the fuck of it, she'd stated clicking her tongue. She just did it for a few minutes, kinda boredly, seeing no real reason not to, and nothing else to do to keep the time anyway. After a few minutes she found she was making sense of it. Each click seemed to carry back a tiny piece of the 3D puzzle that was her room. Her ears were growing accustomed to the new method and she found she could "see" the bucket fairly clearly. In her mind, she began to construct the room in an almost matrix-esque style.

Over the days, Jordan spent her time doing her best to maintain herself. Suffering from a state of shock depression, believing herself to have let her only love down, Jordan regressed slightly into herself. She locked up, stopped thinking too much. It's difficult to describe, but in a way, Jordan hardened. She did her best to work out whenever she felt like it and spent the rest of the time resting. Unfortunately for her, the rope was useless without a knife to cut it, and the bucket, bar beating herself with it, offered no other uses to her than being a cup of water. Besides, even if she had wanted to use it for the aforementioned, doing so would mean tipping out her water, and it was the only water she was getting. No refils in jail.

And so three days passed Jordan by with little but hard, cold sleep, silent, empty sitting, and doing push-ups or sit-ups. Each morning and evening the hatch above her opened. Each time the bucket rose, clanged back down filled, and food with it. Each time whoever was above talked and jeered, and each time the door would slam back down, leaving her once more in the dark and the quiet. And then one morning the hatch opened and a rope snaked down. Jordan, huddled in her corner, didn't look up for several seconds. Hearing no crash of metal on stone, however, she did glance up, and was standing in moments. The rope was not a single line, but two, connected at even spacings with plastic-covered crossbeams.

It was a rope ladder.

Jordan went to it and looked up, shielding her eyes, trying to see out.

'Come on, bitch, hurry the fuck up or I'll leave you there and say you died. Worse has happened.'

Okay. No time to risk becoming a rotten vegetable. Jordan grasped the rope, and shakily began to climb. It took a little time but soon she was at the hatch opening and her head was emerging out into the open. Squinting, she raised her shoulders up, and as her arms came through she was grabbed under her arm and hauled powerfully up. Stumbling, still blinded, she looked about her, her legs bent together, back hunched.

'Follow me ya little slut and don't lag.' The voice was mean, loud, and gruff. Jordan seemed to find it sound punky, like a teenage thug, one from a backstreet gang, loud, obnoxious and rude. She imagined him with a pink moahawk, leather jacket and at least twenty piercings on his face alone.

But, before Jordan could dwell further, he was gone, swaggering down the hall. Jordan stumbled after him, her body not used to the light, the heat, or being able to walk straight for more than a few steps.

After several corners, Jordan was beginning to see without squeezing her eyes shut and had stretched most of the kinks and craps out. Her hair was greasy and straggly, and a little fluff was appearing down below. Her punky handler, who was actually dressed in a white lab coat, stepped into a white-doored room at the end of the hall they were down. Jordan looked about and saw several more doors, each with nameplates on them. White corridors with a single, greeny color on the lower half stretched back behind them and across the way, a wheeled hospital gurney sat against a wall.

The door shut loudly and her escort stood before her. 'You're up for transport, apparently you've been bought. You leave on the next cycle.' He said to her. He flicked his hand towards a door to his right. 'In here, sort your papers. Move!' He said, swinging the door open. She went in and he followed her, shutting the door behind himself. Jordan looked about and saw a small office room, with shelving on one side and a desk in the center. A rustling came as he took his coat off behind her. Jordan stood, arms together in front of her, looking about. She froze as she felt him press up behind her.

'We got about half an hour before your little trip, baby...' He whispered in her ear, his hands running gently up her arms. She felt his body touching hers. She seemed to tense up but didn't move yet. His hands rose over her shoulders and began to knead her neck, his strong thumbs pressing into twin points of pain that had ached and plagued Jordan in her cramped cell over the past three days.

Closing her eyes and putting her head back, him grinning as he saw her do so, she let the massage relieve her, let it rub out the knots in her cramped shoulders. He worked well, his hands casting magic into her neck. After five minutes Jordan's hands had fallen and she was standing quite calmly, swaying ever so slightly, his gentle hands at work on her back, kneading out the tension in her upper back. Slowly, his thumbs, making small circular motions either side of her spine, worked down, untapping tension as they went. Before long they his hands were round her waist, still massaging, still pressing into tender muscles, but probing downwards nonetheless. As Jordan's body was starting to feel the full relaxation of the rub and she was really beginning to relax, his hands past her waist and found hips. She didn't try to resist him as his thumbs still circled, now rising over the globes that were her ass. His fingers joined, one by one, each one little excitements as they too added to the massage. In moments all five digits were circling, rubbing, pressing into her butt and it felt great.

Jordan was really into it now and not at all opposed to the massage going deeper than just a massage. She hadn't gotten off in a long time for a girl who is used to daily orgasms, and although she'd tried one desperate clit-crunch in her cell, she'd had nothing more than a frustrating lust, a cold sweat and a dismally failed orgasm. Now that lust was alive and it was burning to be satisfied, already dampening her cunt and making her breathing heavy and heart race. His massage was doing miracles on her and she was liking it. He circled her ass, her cheeks rising and lowering, spreading and squeezing, as he rubbed them around and around, each time going out, exposing her pucker to the cool air, each time in, making her skin tight around the front. His hands spread, his thumbs sliding coolly between her cheeks. Lightly, expertly, in turn, his thumbs lightly ran circles around her tender hole. Far from being disgusted, after all, she had had to spend three days in an empty stone room, I mean, things have to happen - he seemed to cherish the moment, leaning over her shoulder as she leaned back on him.

Jordan, for her part, didn't mind it at all - she was positively overflowing with lust. She needed a fuck and she needed it now, and if this shitty, ordering little massage god was giving it to her... Well fuck, she was going to fucking take it with pleasure. She began to rock ever so slightly with each circle, each time feeling her cheeks part and a soft thumb press lightly against her rear hole. After some time, he stopped. She was glad there was progression, because more teasing was going to drive her crazy. Grabbing her arms he spun her and his lips were on hers instantly, spreading them, pushing them open, his tongue slipping into her mouth against her own. His hands grasped her hair but began to slide down in moments, first finding a glorious breast to knead before beginning to go down, down, and as one set of fingers edged over the light fluff above her labia and touch her lips, Jordan openly moaned.

'Fuck...' She thought. 'Ohhh fuck fuck FUCK!' Jesus. She was goddamn quivering. Her legs were beginning to shake and her pussy was dripping, she knew it. His fingers tickled and pressed all around her but never once did he reach her labia. Fuck, he was a fucking expert, she thought. He knew her cunt like he knew his own face. His free hand, firmly pressed in the small of her back, holding her in close but letting her upper body arch freely, slipped up her shoulder blades and wound around her hair. It coiled and grasped and tightened against her scalp and then...

... Jordan's head was forced back and in the space of a second she fell to her knees as he pulled her down. It was knees or tumble backwards, so, the knees option wasn't too bad a choice. Her body low, her legs bent under her, him bent over her naked and panting body, she looked up into his eyes with lust and hot passion. Her teeth were together and her dripping hole begged for satisfaction. He grinned an all-powerful, dominant smile and slowly turned his head, not breaking eye contact for a second. Eventually he cocked his chin and spat his gum away before getting to one knee.

'You know,' he breathed, looking fondly down at her crotch, one light finger circling round and round, and round.. 'There is one perk to this job.' He said. Jordan looked at him, panting, teeth clenched, horny as all fucking hell, but frozen in place, totally powerless. 'And that's that I get to rape the whores that we steal.' He said the words coolly, as though raping stolen whores was as normal as buying bagged bread. He grinned at her again.

'But you know all about rape and whores, don't you? Because, well...' He trailed off with a chuckle. 'If you don't, you soon will.'

And he plunged three fingers directly, firmly, deeply, into her sopping cunt.

* * * * *

'Oh holy FUCK!' Jordan groaned through firmly gritted teeth. Her hips were going full pelt, she was rocking back and forth on the floor. His fingers filled her like magic and she was clenching as hard as she could to get the most sensation from them. Her whole body was one big rhythmic beat of high-speed fucking. His hand still held her hair down so she couldn't move, just lay back like that and take his fucking glorious fingers deeper and deeper inside her. It was divine. But right as she was building to her orgasm, he stopped. In seconds the hands both left her and she was alone, her body left perched on the knife's edge of total pleasure. She heard metal and fabric rustling and in seconds her hips were once more grasped by two firm hands, one wet with some sticky substance. Jordan raised her flushed head just in time to see the open shirt of her, well, as he'd put it, rapist, his strong, powerful pack of muscles rippling, his member sticking firmly out before him, and had just enough time to understand what was about to happen before it did.

With a tremendous push, he forced himself into her and she blanched at the filling size of him. Fuck, he had to be at least 6 inches and 2 or 3 wide, she thought. In seconds he was pumping her hard and grunting, and Jordan didn't have time to think thoughts. In just as little time she was lost, her head sloshing about lazily in a pool of warm sticky joy. She didn't need to think, didn't care for it. All she needed was this pleasure. Nothing else mattered now. Nothing else could matter.

Jordan fell back and let him take her all, and she took him all in. She clenched, felt her body moving out of her control, felt her cunt clamping around him rhythmically, on his pulls out, so as to suck him in, to absorb every drop, to entice him back into her. Each time he happily granted her the wish. Within thirty seconds Jordan's fingers dug into the floor and her legs tensed, her stomach heaving, her head lolling back and her mouth wide as she let out a huge moan of total, unending pleasure and she clamped, hard, harder than she ever had before, and came.

It was an explosion like none other. He must have been one of those kids who could spunk a window pane from across the room. She felt him shoot so hard inside her she almost felt pain. If he'd cum any more violently, she felt like he might have shot right into her womb. He forced his hips hard into hers, pulled her onto him and groaned as he jizzed deep into her cunt. Jordan for her part simply let out a joy scream and took it gladly, accepting his warm gift into her pussy. It took nearly five minutes after the initial burst to calm down, both of them resting back, sweating, panting, cum dribbling onto the floor from their parts.

* * * * *

PART 2

"Agent Carolina, information never displeases me. It's ignorance that I find unforgivable. Report."

~Dr. Leonard Church, Project Freelancer, Red vs. Blue season 10

* * * * *

'Need a hand there, Master?' Chelsea asked as she padded into the kitchen from the laundry in her everyday attire, bra and panties, with a basket of warm, dry clothes under one arm from the line outside. A sexy wink and a winning golden smile accompanied the offer as she passed her lord, savior and master, Paulo Crete, eating his toast in the kitchen. A loose tie hung from his shirt collar and a pair of suit pants hung un-belted from his waist. Big, tall, wide, strong and smart, he looked like the perfect mascot for a working daddy. Of course, Paulo wasn't your typical working office father - a trader in illegal goods, including the more questionable trading in live illegal goods, a practice born from a promise of honor to his late father - Paulo looked the part, but played an all-together much more dangerous game. He was also one of the only people on the planet to poses somewhat unearthly power. As a distant descendant of a long branch of family blood reaching as far back in time as the days when gods and man were much closer together, Paulo's bloodline was blessed with a gift.