Captives in Colombia Ch. 01

[This will be Part 1 of a five chapter story. I hope you enjoy ]

The air in the stifling room hung thick, smoke from the man's cigarette stubbornly curling towards the lone ceiling fan. It was twelve past midnight in Bogota, Colombia. The windows in the derelict building were boarded shut. Only the naked bulbs hanging over the interrogation table provided light or the appearance of warmth.

Two sisters were bound to wooden chairs with blindfolds tied tightly round their heads. Trisha and Carly were alike almost in every way. Both young women had beautiful, lush blonde hair a stark white instead of the typical golden. Their luscious, full-sized breasts were larger than the petite models in a Victoria's Secret catalogue but not too heavy to weigh the women down when they wanted to saunter with the sexy sway of their hips. Each blonde's ivory skin had seen little sun and now glistened under the harsh light.

The interrogator gave them a grim look as the cigarette dangled from his mouth. His massive biceps rippled under a network of nightmarish tattoos. His entire physique screamed of some sort of demonic hybrid between a giant and a bull. He stood more than 6'10. Though a white undershirt barely contained his rippling torso, camouflaged army pants and boots filled out his appearance.

"So...I see you do not want to be cooperative." The Russian gave them a dangerously placid look. He looked Trisha over. The only detectable difference between the two blondes was that Trisha's hair hung long and straight down her back in contrast to Carly's curly locks.

He slowly approached both women, towering over them beside the table. He put a hand gently on the back of each girl's neck, feeling the jolt of their bodies shuddering under his touch.

"I have asked you where your friends are hiding, and you have said nothing helpful," the Russian complained, enunciating slowly, word for word.

Ivan had good reason to be impatient. The FSB agent had been sent here to kidnap the two grown daughters of the President of the United States, Gerald Kane. His ambush had gone almost completely according to plan except for one small miscalculation. One of the Secret Service agents had heroically died and allowed them to escape into the streets of Bogota. They were still able to capture three of the American friends traveling with the President's daughters, and this included Trisha and Carly...but the clock was ticking. It was now a race against time as Russian agents searched the streets of Bogota. He needed this information, and quickly, before the President's daughters found safe refuge. Would they make a break for it and attempt to contact the U.S. embassy? What was their likely course of action? Was there a pre-arranged safe house, and had these girls been told about it? He suspected that they had.

All these questions swirled through Ivan's mind as he interrogated the girls.

The big Russian slammed his hand on the table.

"I do not have time for games!"

Both women jumped in their seats. Ivan drew out a combat knife and slowly used it to cut away Trisha's blindfold. The blonde girl met his stare with brave defiance, which was saying something given the state of her dress. Ivan drank in the blonde girl's mouth-watering curves. She wore only her underwear and a bra. Exquisite, melon-shaped breasts gave way to a tightly-tucked belly, lean hips, all of it underneath a cute face with finely chiseled nose and innocent blue eyes. He slipped his hand inside her bra, cupping the breast and feeling the nipple bead underneath his pressing fingers.

"Uhhh...stop it you freak!"

"Mmm..you not like Ivan's caresses? Then you talk, stupid slut. Where is the safe house? Where are Danica and Ivy? Tell us where your friends are and you can go free. No one will blame you for giving them up...a poor, captured American girl scared for your life in some foreign country! What you have to lose, hm?"

Ivan abruptly grabbed the elastic waistband of her panty just above Trisha's ass and pulled it back, letting it go with a loud slap that made her wiggle. Even as he did so the knife came down towards her crotch, the flat of the blade pressed against her barely-covered slit, the point impaled on the chair cushion between her legs.

"You can't do this!" Trisha cried shrilly. "Let us go!"

"Oh, I think I can." He looked for a moment thoughtfully into those baby-blue eyes. "But I think you need to truly believe the situation you're in."

With sudden force he pistol-whipped poor Carly, sending the blonde sprawling out of her chair. The blindfolded blonde lay lifelessly on the carpet as Trisha gaped, words failing her. At the same time Ivan stalked over to the wall and pressed a button. A crackling voice could be heard on the other end, and then Ivan replied, "Bring in the other bitch. We'll interrogate them together. I think I've softened up one of the blonde sluts."

A few moments later 23-year-old Trisha gaped as they brought in Gabriella. The young woman-turned-captive had luxuriant brunette hair and bronze skin. She looked like a true Brazilian sex goddess. But her disheveled state looked far different than those fleeting moments before the three of them had been ambushed. Now Gabriella's tear-streaked face had been gagged, her hands cuffed in front of her. She wore only a slender panty and bra as well. Sweat clung to her smooth, unblemished skin and glistened between the cleft of her breasts.

Another big Russian, this one without tattoos but stocky as a pig, thrust her to her knees and pressed the barrel of a gun against one of her beautiful cheeks.

"This slut hasn't been talking yet either. I think we need to take a more direct approach."

Ivan nodded and put a brotherly hand on the other man's shoulder.

"You speak truth, Igor...these sluts are slow learners. Maybe we need to speed up these lessons, yes?"

"Please, we don't know anything!" Gabriella screeched. Trisha watched with horror, trying to weigh her options. Should she say anything? But Ivy and Danica were her closest friends, and they were the daughters of the President! Their lives were more important than hers...or even Carly's. She loved her sister so much...yet she loved her country too, and she didn't want to betray her best friends and sacrifice her honor just because of fear.

Besides, would these twisted psychos even let them go? Who was to say they would live up to their bargain if she told them the truth?

So Trisha kept her mouth shut even as Ivan cut her panty away and slashed her bra strap, sliding the useless fabric off her now naked and sweaty body.

"Mmmm...look at what we have here. Last chance to talk, bitch. Where are the President's daughters? Where is the fucking safe house?" Trisha looked defiantly into the big Russian's eyes.

"You must have shit for brains if you think I'll talk," she spat. Trisha waited for the hand to strike her, but nothing happened. Instead she was greeted by the roaring laughter of both men.

At last Igor's belly stopped rumbling and the stocky Russian agent grinned maliciously. "Oh, comrade, we are going to have fun breaking these bitches in. Much, much fun."

"Wait! What are you doing! Stop it!" Trisha moaned as Ivan knelt between her legs, spreading her thighs and inserting his tongue into her moist depths. Suddenly his squirming, pliable tongue was grazing hot against her snatch. The unexpected stimuli made her gasp and writhe. Her bonds held her wrists fast to the chair-back, and both of her sexy legs twitched but couldn't move because of the ropes binding her ankles to the outer corner of each chair leg.

Trisha felt the tattooed Russian's hands massage her buttocks cheeks even as his tongue wormed deeper. Her heart beat like a staccato drum inside her chest. The sweat pouring off her brow and torso now found a new home between her legs. The heat there turned into something else...becoming the tiniest bit electrified...as the rapist's tongue found that sensitive nerve bundle.

Her clit was on fire...engorged. The blonde captive didn't know what to do. She squirmed. She writhed. Trisha's neck snapped backward as she moaned and the distinctive squelching sound of gathering wetness rose from between her legs.

"Ahhh..yes, you taste good slut. I can feel you getting wet. Maybe I get you off, then you thank me by telling me where your slut friends are, yes?" Ivan crooned, his tongue lapping at her like a hungry beast. Trisha bit her lip and shook her head, but the moans he pried from her lips belied her defiance.

She closed her eyes, trying to forget that Gabriella was watching her moments of humiliation. Curiosity though somehow won out over horror, and she opened her eyes again, locking her stare with Gabriella's. The brunette captive didn't seem to have any judgment scrawled over her expression. Her friend watched with deadened, horrified eyes as the Russian rapist licked and sucked her blonde friend towards climax.

And then she was almost cumming. It was like an earthquake about to rip through Trisha's core.

"Please stop it!" she moaned. Her crotch though had already been pressed unconsciously against her rapist's mouth. The blonde's straining pelvis was already pressing her clit eagerly onto the Russian's tongue.

"Your body says otherwise," he grumbled roughly between the loud, wet slurps as she finally lost control. His hands grasped her waist tight as she shuddered and writhed. The juices came pouring out of her, flooding his triumphant face. As he came away, her juices glistening on his chin, a look of victory flickered momentarily in his eyes.

Trisha's reddened cheeks received an immediate slap. Even in the after-daze of pleasant orgasm she felt the sting of his hand.

"You bitch! Did I tell you to cum yet? You tell me now! Where are they?" But Trisha looked up sullenly at her captors.

"Make me cum all you want, you fucking pig! I'll tell you nothing! Not a thing!" She winced, prepared for the next slap, but it never came. Instead she just saw a thoughtful smile spread over Ivan's features.

"Igor my friend...may I borrow your sweet piece of ass?" He gestured to Gabriella's now frantic form. The brunette girl struggled in Igor's arms as Igor stood her up, then thrust her legs wide and pinned her arms against her chest. With equal skill Ivan used his knife to disengage Gabriella's bra and then crudely yanked the panty to the brunette's knees. He made sure that Trisha had a clear angle to see all that was unfolding. Then he turned to the blonde, threw off his boots and pants and peeled the undershirt over his head.

His full, bristling torso of muscle was revealed. But not just that – his cock, enormous, thick, and magnificent, stood out in all its vein-bulging glory.

The crew-cut, hawk-nosed Russian looked pointedly at his blonde captive. "You see, American whore, what will happen to your friend if you do not talk?"

Trisha gave her friend Gabriella a pleading look as if to say 'I'm sorry'. Gabriella's haunted gaze though hardly registered it. Instead the brunette stared, open-mouthed and mystified by the size of the Russian's prick.

"Yes, you see girl? Not many women can fit all of this hard meat in their pussy. Maybe you want to give it a try, yes?"

Ivan slowly approached, his cock saluting Gabriella, as the brunette girl adamantly shook her head. But Igor's hand came up, cupping Gabriella's chin.

"This is no way to treat a comrade, bitch. You be submissive, maybe we let you live through the night, yes?" With those chilling words Igor pressed the barrel of his gun into Gabriella's right breast. The girl shuddered and slowly nodded. Her tear-streaked face was still focused on the giant cock before her.

Ivan slowly, gently rubbed his cock-head against her limp fingertips. "Go ahead, cunt. Touch it. Massage me a little." With reluctance Gabriella slid her fingers against Ivan's huge penis. She seemed to slowly get a rhythm going, pumping her hands up and down his shaft, pressing her thumbs against the bulging veins of his cock.

Igor helpfully popped the gag out of Gabriella's mouth, whispering huskily in her ear. "Now put it in your mouth, you hot cunt, or I swear I'll put this between your legs," and with that Igor slid the barrel of the gun so that it rubbed against the thatch of her sex, sending shivers up the brunette's spine.

The naked girl quickly knelt and took in Ivan's manhood. She pumped her mouth up and down that cock with a rhythm born of desperation. Her fingers gently cupped his manhood as he instructed, and his hands fisted tightly in her vibrant hair. Ivan turned as his cock vanished into the brunette's mouth all the way to his pubic mound. Her gurgling and the near-gagging of her suction filled the room. When at last Gabriella's mouth was permitted to draw back off of his cock, strings of pre-cum rode gently from her gorgeous lips, floating free in the hot, stifling hair.

Ivan growled to Trisha, "You see, bitch? Until you talk, you get to watch the show as your friend suffers!" As he did this he grabbed Gabriella by the neck and stuffed his cock back down her throat. Her eyes bulged as the hand around her throat tightened and the cock within her mouth stiffened, straining with need. Finally he let up, repositioning his cock between Gabriella's supple breasts. He squeezed the breasts tightly against his manhood and began to pump through the valley of her sexy tits. The stickiness of his manhood and Gabriella's saliva mixed with all of the girl's sweat so that her entire chest glistened in the harsh light.

Gabriella looked down at the giant cock tit-fucking her beautiful body. Meanwhile Igor grabbed her by the nape of the neck, sucking her ear lobes hard and telling her what horrible humiliations awaited her if she or Trisha didn't tell them what they wanted to know.

"Please sirs! I don't know anything!" Gabriella wailed even as Ivan came, his splooge gushing up into Gabriella's face, painting her nose, lips, and chin in cum. The excess fluid dripped onto Gabriella's breasts as Ivan withdrew his rapidly deflating member.

"Ohh fuck...that was a good beginning," Ivan groaned. He had interrogated many helpless females before, but usually only in his home country. He knew of no better way to motivate a helpless woman than by irresistible, brutal rape. In the doing of his chosen profession what was wrong with adding a little pleasure along the way?

Already now, as he pressed his flaccid cock against Gabriella's lips, it was re-stiffening, trying to regain its former glory.

"Clean it, bitch! Look how messy you've made it!" Igor growled, pinching her nipples hard with both hands as the helpless brunette let out a pitiful groan.

"Yes sir! Please don't hurt me! I'm doing it!" she wailed. Her tongue gently lapped at the stickiness along Ivan's cock like a lollipop even as Igor re-attached the brunette's wrists with cuffs behind her back. When she was done licking off most of the slimy pre-cum and cum off of Ivan's now re-inflated penis Igor unexpectedly tipped Gabriella onto her back.

"What are you doing?"

"You will call us 'Master', bitch, or nothing else!" Igor roared, putting his hand over her mouth and pinching her nostrils until she sputtered for breath. He finally let go, but kept his hands firmly against her sexy shoulders, pressing her torso against the carpet as Ivan knelt between her legs with his newly invigorated cock.

"No! You can't do that! Please! No, don't rape me!" Gabriella protested. Yet even as she complained Ivan pressed a beefy hand against the peach fuzz of her pubic muff. His hands began to gently ply her slick opening. Low moans erupted from the brunette as his fingers established a circular orbit that flicked against her clit and swept against her labia and everywhere adjacent.

The brunette's eyes widened when Ivan produced something very different than the trademark combat knife he had used on her earlier; a vibrator – rubberized with tiny bumps covering the entire shaft's length. He soon thrust it into her snatch even as his fingers continued to tease her clit. She arched her back and shook her head 'No', but her elevated breathing and the contractions of her body told another story.

Igor kept her pinned, his eyes focused on her increasingly dazed and enraptured face. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to blot out the feelings of pleasure swamping her from her core. Trisha watched, mesmerized and shocked, as Gabriella's cunt was slowly enticed, bit by agonizing bit, with the forceful yet gentle hand of the tattooed Russian rapist and his vibrator.

"No...please stop! You'll make me...no! Please, don't do this!" Gabriella moaned.

"Go ahead, slut. Cum. Surrender your sweet juices and then tell us what we want to know!"

At last, with Gabriella's half-stifled groans filling the room, Trisha saw a sudden, violent twitch rip through Gabriella's naked body. Her sultry torso writhed in the midst of orgasm. She cried out and the brunette's pussy spurted her hard-won nectar to blemish the once-pristine carpet. Before the brunette could even recover though, Ivan's bellowed command filled the room.

"Tell us now! Where are the President's daughters?!"

When Gabriella, still dazed from her orgasm, failed to respond, Igor gripped her shoulders tightly and Ivan positioned his cock at her sizzling-hot pussy.

"No...I don't know anything! Please, you have to believe me! Don't rape me!" Gabriella pleaded.

Ivan turned one last look back at Trisha as he set his cock-head snugly at the opening to Gabriella's inviting slit.

"Last chance, blonde bitch? You save your friend or do I shove her full of cock?"

Trisha bit her lip and for just a moment she hesitated.

"Please Trisha! Tell them!" Gabriella moaned. "I don't want them to get me pregnant! They're going to rape me!" Gabriella was shouting now, desperation filling her tear-streaked face.

Even Ivan could see the conflict behind the blonde's gorgeous blue eyes, but he said nothing. He saw her hesitate and then prepared to plow into the brunette's fuck-hole.

"Wait!" Trisha cried.

"Yes?" Ivan kept his cock poised, the egg-shaped head gently tickled by Gabriella's pubic muff in front of her hot, wet orifice.

"Fuck me instead. Don't hurt Gabriella. She doesn't know anything!" Trisha said bravely.

Slowly the tattooed Russian withdrew from between Gabriella's legs and approached the tied-up blonde. He looked at her questioningly for a moment, a wry grin morphing his strong jaw.

"You would really do that? Take a hard, brutal raping of your tight pussy, just to save your friend from torment?"

Carefully Trisha nodded, her jaw set and eyes blazing with hatred. "Yes I would you bastard. Now please, just let her go. Give me the punishment. I'm the one who has the information you want."

Ivan exchanged an unreadable look with Igor, who simply nodded.

"Now this gets interesting, Sweetie. May I call you that?" Ivan asked with deceptive gentleness and insincerity. He cupped each of Trisha's breasts, then grabbed his combat knife and pierced the tip of each nipple, idly watching the blood trickle down her breasts as Trisha gasped.

"Oooh! So brave! Not even one little scream? Most bitches scream when I use the knife on them." The big Russian laves each nipple with his tongue, tasting her coppery blood even as his fingers find her clit and began the inevitable rubbing.

"Uuhhhh...Please stop!" Trisha moans, suddenly aware of hands untying the knots around her wrists and ankles.

"What are you doing?" Trisha gasps as Igor helps her stand. The blood rushes back into her unbound hands only briefly before new bracelets, black and made of leather, clamp around them, attached to a chain suspended from the ceiling behind her. With a quick movement Igor trusses her up, her arms forced high above her head as her feet stand on tiptoe. She lets out a startled yelp as Ivan's hands cup and caress her smooth, sexy ass cheeks, squeezing them hard as his teeth bite down on one of her bleeding nipples.