Heaven forbid! I’m hoping for Easy computer access and a clean getaway, after all it’s been a first for a Sexpionage episode and it’d be nice to see a novice
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Sexpionage III
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
catOnine
Executioner
Thats an interesting question in fact...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Exposed Under Cover (5)
Hamat Jakadi’s Mansion House in the Icheri Sheher (Old Town) District of Baku, Azerbaijan
Jakadi’s office, much like his hallway, was English-antique in style. Oak panelling with a similar smooth dark brown desk and book shelves.
She looked at him as he closed the door behind them … the perfectly tailored fit of his suit, the broad expanse of clean white cotton across his chest. She in turn wore a black, stretch fabric, leather look dress, with a very short hem line and black hose that sheened her slender legs. The zipper on the dress was lowered, maybe just a little too far, but it allowed the edges of her pretty bra to be seen, which she liked. Unseen at this moment was the scrap of matching lace that sat between her thighs, cutting between her swollen labia and running as a string between the cheeks of her firm ass.
She wore her wedding ring … it turned her on to do so.
Cat eyed up the laptop computer sitting on the desk, lid down protecting its secrets. She needed access to it so that she could plug in the memory stick and transmit the HD back to SIS House in London.
“Is that the only computer you have?” She asked, knowing that the question was a little provocative, but, she hoped, that it wasn’t provoking enough to raise his suspicions.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure he had heard her, and then, without him answering, his mouth was on hers. He clasped her head in his hands, fisting her hair ready for his assault. Shock collided with lust and exploded inside her body, sweeping away all rational thought.
“You’re mine,” he said when he drew back, gazing down at her with a hunger that should have made her run. “No one else’s, just mine.”
He gripped her hips and set her on the edge of his desk. Before she could figure out what he was doing, Jakadi brushed her dress up, spread her legs, ripped through her hose and tore away her thong.
Cat squealed; she couldn’t help herself.
“Hamat, what the fuck …?”
His grip moved to her thighs as he pushed them wide apart and delved into her body. His tongue slipped into the slit of her exposed pussy, and her mind went blank. He dragged her to the edge of the desk and ate her as if his life depended on it. One hand pinned her open while the other cupped her ass, drawing her into his intimate kiss. She couldn’t think of anything with clarity as pleasure reverberated through every fibre of her being. His talented mouth suckled her engorged clit, but before she could counteract the pleasure or get any sort of hold on it, a climax, violent and unstoppable, exploded causing Cat to arch into him. She wrapped her legs around his head, back bowing as he slammed his fingers into her, eliciting a mind-numbing pleasure so great, that her mind completely shut down allowing her body to take over.
When it became too much, she yanked on his hair, trying to get his mouth away from her sensitive flesh. He moaned but she couldn’t dislodge him. Cat could hear him swallow as he lapped up her juices.
“H … Hamat, please stop,” she said, with a shudder, her voice sounding hoarse. Without moving his head, he pushed her, so she sprawled on her back in a boneless heap on the polished surface of the desk. He used his fingers again, curling and stroking, and the feeling began to build inside Cat once more.
She tried to kick out at him, but his hands pinned her wide, and she had no defence as he incessantly teased her oversensitive nerves.
“I … I can’t,” she panted as another climax punched through her, “No … m … more, please Ham … ohhhhh fuck, fuuuckkkk!” She erupted, body jerking as he pushed over the edge yet again.
Eventually when rational thought returned, she found him standing over her, his fingers still buried between her thigh. His eyes were ablaze with lust.
“I didn’t ask the first time, when we raped you at the Torture Garden, but now I will ask you Catherine. Will you let me fuck you?”
“No.” She replied, “Not yet.” Why she had said this the Agent wasn’t really clear. Maybe she too wanted to demonstrate some power … or maybe she had already climaxed too many times.
He laughed as his finger gave her clit a last twist that made her gasp. He took his hand from between her legs and licked it. Cat’s stomach clenched.
“Very well, then I will wait until tonight little bitch, when I will not ask you, instead you will be begging me.”
Then Jakadi walked away and left her.
Left her …
Alone …
In his Office …
Fuck … yes!
******
It was later that night when Cat was spread eagled naked to a large double bed that all became clear. He had left her alone after licking and sucking her to the point of derangement, so that she could rearrange her clothing, retrieve her tattered thong and leave of her own accord. She had assumed that it was his domineering arrogance that had driven his actions, little had she known that he was watching from a cam screen as she opened his laptop, broke the security and slipped the memory stick into the USB slot. He chuckled to himself as he allowed her to send the bogus information back to her employers ...
And now here she was, naked and spread wide for him, chained at wrist and ankle.
“Do you like me like this?” An unsuspecting Cat asked quietly.
“It’s perfect. You look perfect.” He replied, his facing remaining impassive.
She said nothing.
“Even the way you’re looking at me right now is perfect.” He continued.
She pressed her lips together, clearly concerned about his ominous tone. “And that’s just the problem, girl.” He walked up to the bed and studied her.
She wisely said nothing and instead looked away. He slid his finger under her chin, forcing her to face him.
“No one is this fucking perfect.”
Uncertainty and unease filled her gaze. A black leather case was tucked under his arm. He set it down on the bedside table before carefully unzipping it. A hard knot formed in Cat’s stomach as, helpless to resist, she watched him fill a fresh syringe. Taking her hand Jakadi swabbed her manacled wrist with alcohol, before pressing the needle’s tip into a vein.
Hamat Jakadi waited until her head fell back. He even checked her eyes, ensuring they were rolled up into her head, then he began to unchain her …
To Be Continued …
Hamat Jakadi’s Mansion House in the Icheri Sheher (Old Town) District of Baku, Azerbaijan
Jakadi’s office, much like his hallway, was English-antique in style. Oak panelling with a similar smooth dark brown desk and book shelves.
She looked at him as he closed the door behind them … the perfectly tailored fit of his suit, the broad expanse of clean white cotton across his chest. She in turn wore a black, stretch fabric, leather look dress, with a very short hem line and black hose that sheened her slender legs. The zipper on the dress was lowered, maybe just a little too far, but it allowed the edges of her pretty bra to be seen, which she liked. Unseen at this moment was the scrap of matching lace that sat between her thighs, cutting between her swollen labia and running as a string between the cheeks of her firm ass.
She wore her wedding ring … it turned her on to do so.
Cat eyed up the laptop computer sitting on the desk, lid down protecting its secrets. She needed access to it so that she could plug in the memory stick and transmit the HD back to SIS House in London.
“Is that the only computer you have?” She asked, knowing that the question was a little provocative, but, she hoped, that it wasn’t provoking enough to raise his suspicions.
For a moment, she wasn’t sure he had heard her, and then, without him answering, his mouth was on hers. He clasped her head in his hands, fisting her hair ready for his assault. Shock collided with lust and exploded inside her body, sweeping away all rational thought.
“You’re mine,” he said when he drew back, gazing down at her with a hunger that should have made her run. “No one else’s, just mine.”
He gripped her hips and set her on the edge of his desk. Before she could figure out what he was doing, Jakadi brushed her dress up, spread her legs, ripped through her hose and tore away her thong.
Cat squealed; she couldn’t help herself.
“Hamat, what the fuck …?”
His grip moved to her thighs as he pushed them wide apart and delved into her body. His tongue slipped into the slit of her exposed pussy, and her mind went blank. He dragged her to the edge of the desk and ate her as if his life depended on it. One hand pinned her open while the other cupped her ass, drawing her into his intimate kiss. She couldn’t think of anything with clarity as pleasure reverberated through every fibre of her being. His talented mouth suckled her engorged clit, but before she could counteract the pleasure or get any sort of hold on it, a climax, violent and unstoppable, exploded causing Cat to arch into him. She wrapped her legs around his head, back bowing as he slammed his fingers into her, eliciting a mind-numbing pleasure so great, that her mind completely shut down allowing her body to take over.
When it became too much, she yanked on his hair, trying to get his mouth away from her sensitive flesh. He moaned but she couldn’t dislodge him. Cat could hear him swallow as he lapped up her juices.
“H … Hamat, please stop,” she said, with a shudder, her voice sounding hoarse. Without moving his head, he pushed her, so she sprawled on her back in a boneless heap on the polished surface of the desk. He used his fingers again, curling and stroking, and the feeling began to build inside Cat once more.
She tried to kick out at him, but his hands pinned her wide, and she had no defence as he incessantly teased her oversensitive nerves.
“I … I can’t,” she panted as another climax punched through her, “No … m … more, please Ham … ohhhhh fuck, fuuuckkkk!” She erupted, body jerking as he pushed over the edge yet again.
Eventually when rational thought returned, she found him standing over her, his fingers still buried between her thigh. His eyes were ablaze with lust.
“I didn’t ask the first time, when we raped you at the Torture Garden, but now I will ask you Catherine. Will you let me fuck you?”
“No.” She replied, “Not yet.” Why she had said this the Agent wasn’t really clear. Maybe she too wanted to demonstrate some power … or maybe she had already climaxed too many times.
He laughed as his finger gave her clit a last twist that made her gasp. He took his hand from between her legs and licked it. Cat’s stomach clenched.
“Very well, then I will wait until tonight little bitch, when I will not ask you, instead you will be begging me.”
Then Jakadi walked away and left her.
Left her …
Alone …
In his Office …
Fuck … yes!
******
It was later that night when Cat was spread eagled naked to a large double bed that all became clear. He had left her alone after licking and sucking her to the point of derangement, so that she could rearrange her clothing, retrieve her tattered thong and leave of her own accord. She had assumed that it was his domineering arrogance that had driven his actions, little had she known that he was watching from a cam screen as she opened his laptop, broke the security and slipped the memory stick into the USB slot. He chuckled to himself as he allowed her to send the bogus information back to her employers ...
And now here she was, naked and spread wide for him, chained at wrist and ankle.
“Do you like me like this?” An unsuspecting Cat asked quietly.
“It’s perfect. You look perfect.” He replied, his facing remaining impassive.
She said nothing.
“Even the way you’re looking at me right now is perfect.” He continued.
She pressed her lips together, clearly concerned about his ominous tone. “And that’s just the problem, girl.” He walked up to the bed and studied her.
She wisely said nothing and instead looked away. He slid his finger under her chin, forcing her to face him.
“No one is this fucking perfect.”
Uncertainty and unease filled her gaze. A black leather case was tucked under his arm. He set it down on the bedside table before carefully unzipping it. A hard knot formed in Cat’s stomach as, helpless to resist, she watched him fill a fresh syringe. Taking her hand Jakadi swabbed her manacled wrist with alcohol, before pressing the needle’s tip into a vein.
Hamat Jakadi waited until her head fell back. He even checked her eyes, ensuring they were rolled up into her head, then he began to unchain her …
To Be Continued …
Well that went well, didn’t it?! Obviously cat missed the lecture on “if it seems too good to be true…”
Although so far my experience of Sexpionage is that they failed to include that topic on the curriculum. Maybe that’s for the best?
Never Say Never Again!
Although so far my experience of Sexpionage is that they failed to include that topic on the curriculum. Maybe that’s for the best?
Never Say Never Again!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Exposed Under Cover (6)
The Basement at Hamat Jakadi’s Mansion House in the Icheri Sheher (Old Town) District of Baku, Azerbaijan
When Cat awoke, she was no longer in the bedroom. What had happened? Had her cover been blown? Well, yes, it certainly looked that way. As her consciousness returned the Agent became aware of her new surroundings. A basement, maybe. One thing was the same in that she was still naked and bound, but now she was laid over a high bench, her arms tied down by the side of her body with her ass exposed and vulnerable from behind.
Fuck …
Jakadi appeared from the side into her line of vision and worked his way around two other men until he stood in front of Cat.
Two other men?
A finger to her lips bade her open them. Pushing hard, making her groan, he fitted inside her open mouth what looked like dental equipment. The metal pieces prized apart her jaw until it began to ache and then the thick leather strap was buckled at the back of her head.
Cat immediately began to drool, saliva dribbling down over her chin and neck. On attempting to work her teeth back and forth she discovered that the metal pieces were padded, covered in something foul tasting, perhaps rubber, which she realised was to protect her teeth ... or maybe to safeguard what was inserted into her mouth from her teeth!
Both of the other men were taking pleasure in touching her bound body … her arms and legs, her ass, her neck then sliding lower until Jakadi called a halt and pulled both of them to stand with him facing Cat.
“Catherine Lavigne …” He said her name and then paused to let the fact that he knew who she was sink in.
Fuck! A singular word that rattled around inside her head.
“You are an MI6 Agent Miss Lavigne. How do I know this? Because I know exactly where you sent that false information …”
False information! Double Fuck!
Your bosses want to know about my involvement with the war over the enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh, and prove that my organisation is providing the funding proving that Iran is also involved. Am I correct?
I am totally fucked!
“These two men both work for the Iranian Secret Service and Intelligence Services and will be taking you from me today back to Tehran so they can find out exactly what information you wanted as opposed to what was actually sent, and who in MI6, and elsewhere, is interested in Nagorno-Karabakh.
“… but not until we have had our fun with you …”
Cat gazed up at the two ‘other’ men. One had a squashed neck and the other a long eyebrow the met in the middle of his forehead. Both No-neck and Unibrow looked pleased with themselves.
It was clear that the tied girl faced a very unpleasant future, but for now her torture was just beginning and she squirmed in anticipation and apprehension of what was to come. Jakadi returned to stand in front of her, cock in hand, erect, straining, dripping at the tip with masturbatory pre-cum, immediately began to feed it between her lips, past the device that held her jaws apart and proceeded to fuck her mouth. He didn’t hold back, not caring if the bulbous crown plugged the back of her throat nor for how long, in fact, he seemed to relish the wide-eyed fearful expression on Cat’s face as he blocked off her source of oxygen.
Behind her, No-neck and Unibrow were at work. One, sporting a leather tipped flogger, began beating the bound Agent’s ass, the dull thuds at first felt not unpleasant, a soft impact that warmed the flesh deliciously and despite her throat fucking, it felt good, causing Cat to wiggle her hips back and forth in a somewhat lewd manner, and spread both thighs further. However, the second man was not idle, as he worked to secure each of Cat’s ankles in place at the wooden base of the bench.
She winced, eyes filling with tears every time Jakadi hit the back of her throat triggering her gag reflex, and, as her own abuse increased, the flogger was replaced by a whip, which proceeded to tear at her flesh leaving agonising fire in its wake …
Jakadi increased his thrusts, ensuring that each time the tip of his cock plugged her throat it was for a few seconds more until at one point it felt as though she'd surely lose consciousness once again. Unibrow walked around to stand next to her initial captor just as the latter erupted, ejaculating into Cat’s captive mouth. Convulsing, she swallowed, choking on the globules of ropey liquid that clung to her throat while tears, snot and thick dribbling saliva left wet trails in their wake down over her face, chin and neck.
As Jakadi pulled out, Unibrow replaced him and immediately thrust forward, once more cutting off Cat’s life-giving oxygen. As he filled her mouth the man with the large eye-brow reached down and pinched each of her nipples cruelly, stretching the tender nubs out impossibly, to the point where her pain overrode anything else and with whatever air she had left in her lungs she screamed in agony.
“Nghhhhhhh, aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” The incoherence of her scream only inflamed the perverted desires of the three men even more.
Behind Cat, at that moment, and very clearly without lubrication, someone, she presumed it was No-neck as Jakadi would have been soft or at the very least tumescent, forced his way into her tight asshole and began a punishing rhythm that Unibrow tried to match at her ‘other end’.
Through blurred vision Cat managed to see some of what happened next, Jakadi, clearly in charge, worked his way around the threesome, massaging the men's shoulders, patting them on the back, encouraging them with non-verbal grunts and hand signals to either move faster or slow down respectively.
At times Hamat would reach down and slap at the bound Agent’s breasts, jerk on each nipple and then delve between her spread legs to pinch her clit, roughly thrusting thick fingers into her pussy while No-neck abused Cat’s asshole.
It wasn't long before Unibrow finished, his ejaculate hit the back of her throat just the same as his predecessor and she swallowed, again, having no choice. No-neck then suddenly pulled out of her abused asshole and in her addled state, Cat didn't understand why, that is until he took himself directly from her ass to her mouth, and thrust hard so that he too could finish there. Cat could taste herself on him, the secretions from her bottom flooding her mouth with a vile flavouring. Her nostrils flared and once more her gag reflex triggered violently threatening to expel the meagre meal she had eaten earlier.
A hand pressed down against her head, fisting her hair and Jakadi’s snarling voice growled “Puke, and I make you eat it.”
That alone made Cat want to vomit but with a great deal of self-control and willpower, she quelled the urge to throw up.
Across her vision, someone, she did not know who, raised another whip, and in moments her ass was once again set alight by the repetitive lashing of leather landing stinging streaks across her already abused flesh.
******
It would take over ten hours to drive the 780 kilometres from Baku to Tehran. The trip was not along an unpleasant route, sticking to the views over the Western coast of the Caspian Sea for the entire journey. Catherine Lavigne however would see nothing of it, because she was bound naked in a hog-tie in the trunk of the car in which they travelled …
This brings, "Exposed Under Cover", the opening part of "OPEN SEASON" , to an end ... The hapless Agent Catherine Lavigne has suffered at the hands of a malicious arms dealer from Azerbaijan, and has now been 'given to his friends from the Iranian Secret Service ... join us tomorrow for the beginning of PART II "TORTURE IN TEHRAN" ...
To Be Continued ...
The Basement at Hamat Jakadi’s Mansion House in the Icheri Sheher (Old Town) District of Baku, Azerbaijan
When Cat awoke, she was no longer in the bedroom. What had happened? Had her cover been blown? Well, yes, it certainly looked that way. As her consciousness returned the Agent became aware of her new surroundings. A basement, maybe. One thing was the same in that she was still naked and bound, but now she was laid over a high bench, her arms tied down by the side of her body with her ass exposed and vulnerable from behind.
Fuck …
Jakadi appeared from the side into her line of vision and worked his way around two other men until he stood in front of Cat.
Two other men?
A finger to her lips bade her open them. Pushing hard, making her groan, he fitted inside her open mouth what looked like dental equipment. The metal pieces prized apart her jaw until it began to ache and then the thick leather strap was buckled at the back of her head.
Cat immediately began to drool, saliva dribbling down over her chin and neck. On attempting to work her teeth back and forth she discovered that the metal pieces were padded, covered in something foul tasting, perhaps rubber, which she realised was to protect her teeth ... or maybe to safeguard what was inserted into her mouth from her teeth!
Both of the other men were taking pleasure in touching her bound body … her arms and legs, her ass, her neck then sliding lower until Jakadi called a halt and pulled both of them to stand with him facing Cat.
“Catherine Lavigne …” He said her name and then paused to let the fact that he knew who she was sink in.
Fuck! A singular word that rattled around inside her head.
“You are an MI6 Agent Miss Lavigne. How do I know this? Because I know exactly where you sent that false information …”
False information! Double Fuck!
Your bosses want to know about my involvement with the war over the enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh, and prove that my organisation is providing the funding proving that Iran is also involved. Am I correct?
I am totally fucked!
“These two men both work for the Iranian Secret Service and Intelligence Services and will be taking you from me today back to Tehran so they can find out exactly what information you wanted as opposed to what was actually sent, and who in MI6, and elsewhere, is interested in Nagorno-Karabakh.
“… but not until we have had our fun with you …”
Cat gazed up at the two ‘other’ men. One had a squashed neck and the other a long eyebrow the met in the middle of his forehead. Both No-neck and Unibrow looked pleased with themselves.
It was clear that the tied girl faced a very unpleasant future, but for now her torture was just beginning and she squirmed in anticipation and apprehension of what was to come. Jakadi returned to stand in front of her, cock in hand, erect, straining, dripping at the tip with masturbatory pre-cum, immediately began to feed it between her lips, past the device that held her jaws apart and proceeded to fuck her mouth. He didn’t hold back, not caring if the bulbous crown plugged the back of her throat nor for how long, in fact, he seemed to relish the wide-eyed fearful expression on Cat’s face as he blocked off her source of oxygen.
Behind her, No-neck and Unibrow were at work. One, sporting a leather tipped flogger, began beating the bound Agent’s ass, the dull thuds at first felt not unpleasant, a soft impact that warmed the flesh deliciously and despite her throat fucking, it felt good, causing Cat to wiggle her hips back and forth in a somewhat lewd manner, and spread both thighs further. However, the second man was not idle, as he worked to secure each of Cat’s ankles in place at the wooden base of the bench.
She winced, eyes filling with tears every time Jakadi hit the back of her throat triggering her gag reflex, and, as her own abuse increased, the flogger was replaced by a whip, which proceeded to tear at her flesh leaving agonising fire in its wake …
Jakadi increased his thrusts, ensuring that each time the tip of his cock plugged her throat it was for a few seconds more until at one point it felt as though she'd surely lose consciousness once again. Unibrow walked around to stand next to her initial captor just as the latter erupted, ejaculating into Cat’s captive mouth. Convulsing, she swallowed, choking on the globules of ropey liquid that clung to her throat while tears, snot and thick dribbling saliva left wet trails in their wake down over her face, chin and neck.
As Jakadi pulled out, Unibrow replaced him and immediately thrust forward, once more cutting off Cat’s life-giving oxygen. As he filled her mouth the man with the large eye-brow reached down and pinched each of her nipples cruelly, stretching the tender nubs out impossibly, to the point where her pain overrode anything else and with whatever air she had left in her lungs she screamed in agony.
“Nghhhhhhh, aiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii” The incoherence of her scream only inflamed the perverted desires of the three men even more.
Behind Cat, at that moment, and very clearly without lubrication, someone, she presumed it was No-neck as Jakadi would have been soft or at the very least tumescent, forced his way into her tight asshole and began a punishing rhythm that Unibrow tried to match at her ‘other end’.
Through blurred vision Cat managed to see some of what happened next, Jakadi, clearly in charge, worked his way around the threesome, massaging the men's shoulders, patting them on the back, encouraging them with non-verbal grunts and hand signals to either move faster or slow down respectively.
At times Hamat would reach down and slap at the bound Agent’s breasts, jerk on each nipple and then delve between her spread legs to pinch her clit, roughly thrusting thick fingers into her pussy while No-neck abused Cat’s asshole.
It wasn't long before Unibrow finished, his ejaculate hit the back of her throat just the same as his predecessor and she swallowed, again, having no choice. No-neck then suddenly pulled out of her abused asshole and in her addled state, Cat didn't understand why, that is until he took himself directly from her ass to her mouth, and thrust hard so that he too could finish there. Cat could taste herself on him, the secretions from her bottom flooding her mouth with a vile flavouring. Her nostrils flared and once more her gag reflex triggered violently threatening to expel the meagre meal she had eaten earlier.
A hand pressed down against her head, fisting her hair and Jakadi’s snarling voice growled “Puke, and I make you eat it.”
That alone made Cat want to vomit but with a great deal of self-control and willpower, she quelled the urge to throw up.
Across her vision, someone, she did not know who, raised another whip, and in moments her ass was once again set alight by the repetitive lashing of leather landing stinging streaks across her already abused flesh.
******
It would take over ten hours to drive the 780 kilometres from Baku to Tehran. The trip was not along an unpleasant route, sticking to the views over the Western coast of the Caspian Sea for the entire journey. Catherine Lavigne however would see nothing of it, because she was bound naked in a hog-tie in the trunk of the car in which they travelled …
This brings, "Exposed Under Cover", the opening part of "OPEN SEASON" , to an end ... The hapless Agent Catherine Lavigne has suffered at the hands of a malicious arms dealer from Azerbaijan, and has now been 'given to his friends from the Iranian Secret Service ... join us tomorrow for the beginning of PART II "TORTURE IN TEHRAN" ...
To Be Continued ...
Last edited:
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
OPEN SEASON PART II
Torture in Tehran (1)
Head of MI6, Roger Moore’s, Apartment in Vauxhall, London
Agent Lacey Anderson dropped off the bed and fell to her knees. Bowing her head, she splayed her legs wide before the dominant man who was guiding her actions. Then she lowered her head further causing her long blonde hair to curtain her face, as she whispered, “Fuck me, master, act out your fantasies. Hurt me. Debase me. Make me yours.”
Every word she uttered turned her on unlike anything she had ever known. The fact the young Agent willingly gave herself to him, her boss, the Head of MI6, to do whatever he wanted with, unlocked new dimensions she’d been scared of ever since that very first time with her school teacher, Kurt Harbinger (see Lacey’s first time).
Lacey needed this as much as Roger Moore did.
Moore moved from the bed, positioning himself in front of her. His breathing grew harsh and thick, chest pumping with exertion. He stroked her hair before fisting it, jerking her head upwards so that her gaze met his. Everything about him was laden with lust: eyes, mouth, body.
“You’ve made your choice now my little slut. You can’t take it back.” He pulled her upright by her hair. The young girl’s scalp screeched in pain, and she winced, holding onto his hands as he planted her onto her feet before him.
“You can scream. You can cry. I won’t ever show you mercy. But I give you my promise Lacey I’ll stop if you say the safe word.”
“What’s the safe word?” She didn’t really need to ask.
Moore smiled crookedly, and together they murmured “Scarlet.”
With another mutual look, they signed their deal. Moore swelled with dominance and Lacey burned with a submissive power of her own. A power she didn’t have a name for, power over her boss.
“You’re mine tonight.” Moore kissed her cheek.
“Yes,” she breathed, and just like that, Lacey Anderson became Roger Moore’s whore, as Ekaterina Novikova had before her, but this time the ‘whore’ was doting, willing and eager.
It was much later, when they lay together naked in Moore’s bed that the Head of MI6 saw his phone light up with an incoming call.
The following day - Starbucks Coffee House, Lambeth Road, London
“Wait, what?” Grace Miller stared across the table at her friend and colleague Lacey Anderson.
“His phone rang and …” the younger girl replied.
“No, no back up girl …”
Lacey raised her eyebrows at Grace’s tone.
“You were at Moore’s London Apartment, in his bed? What the fuck Lacey!”
The blonde girl just smiled and shrugged. “What can I say Grace, he turns me on … more than that really.”
“Oh, believe me Lace, I know all about Mister Moore’s penchant for rough sex …”
“You do?”
“What? No, no not because I have … with him, no fuck no. But Ekaterina … she … and Moore …”
Lacey nodded as the pair of them fell into silence. After a minute or maybe two, Grace spoke again. “Just be careful Lacey. He seems all nice and well kind of caring, but he’s one tough bastard and … well, just make sure you look after yourself.”
Lacey nodded and then continued. “And so, as I was about to say, his phone rang and it was a call to do with that contract Agent they took on.”
Grace nodded. “You mean the one we’re not supposed to know anything about?”
“The very same, Catherine Lavigne, she’s called, and …” Lacey paused, before adding, “It seems she has disappeared.”
“What? How do they know that?”
“She sent information back from wherever she is, and it was proved to be false, like someone had set her up to do it. And now she’s gone to ground. No one’s heard from Agent Cat for days now …”
“So, either her cover has been blown, or she’s gone rogue.”
“Damn, I never thought of that,” Lacey responded, “Could that happen?”
Grace recalled how Ekaterina had defected to MI6 from the SVR and how she herself had been compromised by the Russians for a short time. “Yes Lace, it could, in fact it happens all the time. But from what I understand Agent Cat has worked for the Agency before and so I suspect her mission is compromised somehow.”
“He’s talking about sending someone out there, wherever ‘there’ is.” The younger Agent looked across at her older colleague as she took a sip from her coffee cup.
“I have a funny feeling that I know who that ‘someone’ might be,” Grace replied with a resigned sigh.
To Be Continued …
Torture in Tehran (1)
Head of MI6, Roger Moore’s, Apartment in Vauxhall, London
Agent Lacey Anderson dropped off the bed and fell to her knees. Bowing her head, she splayed her legs wide before the dominant man who was guiding her actions. Then she lowered her head further causing her long blonde hair to curtain her face, as she whispered, “Fuck me, master, act out your fantasies. Hurt me. Debase me. Make me yours.”
Every word she uttered turned her on unlike anything she had ever known. The fact the young Agent willingly gave herself to him, her boss, the Head of MI6, to do whatever he wanted with, unlocked new dimensions she’d been scared of ever since that very first time with her school teacher, Kurt Harbinger (see Lacey’s first time).
Lacey needed this as much as Roger Moore did.
Moore moved from the bed, positioning himself in front of her. His breathing grew harsh and thick, chest pumping with exertion. He stroked her hair before fisting it, jerking her head upwards so that her gaze met his. Everything about him was laden with lust: eyes, mouth, body.
“You’ve made your choice now my little slut. You can’t take it back.” He pulled her upright by her hair. The young girl’s scalp screeched in pain, and she winced, holding onto his hands as he planted her onto her feet before him.
“You can scream. You can cry. I won’t ever show you mercy. But I give you my promise Lacey I’ll stop if you say the safe word.”
“What’s the safe word?” She didn’t really need to ask.
Moore smiled crookedly, and together they murmured “Scarlet.”
With another mutual look, they signed their deal. Moore swelled with dominance and Lacey burned with a submissive power of her own. A power she didn’t have a name for, power over her boss.
“You’re mine tonight.” Moore kissed her cheek.
“Yes,” she breathed, and just like that, Lacey Anderson became Roger Moore’s whore, as Ekaterina Novikova had before her, but this time the ‘whore’ was doting, willing and eager.
It was much later, when they lay together naked in Moore’s bed that the Head of MI6 saw his phone light up with an incoming call.
The following day - Starbucks Coffee House, Lambeth Road, London
“Wait, what?” Grace Miller stared across the table at her friend and colleague Lacey Anderson.
“His phone rang and …” the younger girl replied.
“No, no back up girl …”
Lacey raised her eyebrows at Grace’s tone.
“You were at Moore’s London Apartment, in his bed? What the fuck Lacey!”
The blonde girl just smiled and shrugged. “What can I say Grace, he turns me on … more than that really.”
“Oh, believe me Lace, I know all about Mister Moore’s penchant for rough sex …”
“You do?”
“What? No, no not because I have … with him, no fuck no. But Ekaterina … she … and Moore …”
Lacey nodded as the pair of them fell into silence. After a minute or maybe two, Grace spoke again. “Just be careful Lacey. He seems all nice and well kind of caring, but he’s one tough bastard and … well, just make sure you look after yourself.”
Lacey nodded and then continued. “And so, as I was about to say, his phone rang and it was a call to do with that contract Agent they took on.”
Grace nodded. “You mean the one we’re not supposed to know anything about?”
“The very same, Catherine Lavigne, she’s called, and …” Lacey paused, before adding, “It seems she has disappeared.”
“What? How do they know that?”
“She sent information back from wherever she is, and it was proved to be false, like someone had set her up to do it. And now she’s gone to ground. No one’s heard from Agent Cat for days now …”
“So, either her cover has been blown, or she’s gone rogue.”
“Damn, I never thought of that,” Lacey responded, “Could that happen?”
Grace recalled how Ekaterina had defected to MI6 from the SVR and how she herself had been compromised by the Russians for a short time. “Yes Lace, it could, in fact it happens all the time. But from what I understand Agent Cat has worked for the Agency before and so I suspect her mission is compromised somehow.”
“He’s talking about sending someone out there, wherever ‘there’ is.” The younger Agent looked across at her older colleague as she took a sip from her coffee cup.
“I have a funny feeling that I know who that ‘someone’ might be,” Grace replied with a resigned sigh.
To Be Continued …
I have an idea - They could send two Moore agents to rescue Cat? Someone can alert the Iranians that they’ll need more whips!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Torture in Tehran (2)
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
Note - The Quds Force is one of five branches of Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) specializing in unconventional warfare and military intelligence ...
“Now, are you going to behave yourself?” Angry at the way they were treating her, but still horribly afraid, Cat faced them, these two men, her new captors; No-Neck and Unibrow who had brought her to this place all the way from Baku and the home of Hamat Jakadi.
Once she had unwound her stiffened muscles from the boot of the car she had been transported in, and after immediately vomiting due to the extreme cramping of her hogtied body, the captive Agent’s head had been covered with a bag and she had been led into this building. She had no idea where she was but she heard enough to know for sure that she had been given to the Iranians by that bastard Jakadi.
She knew what these monsters did to female spies, they had already participated in the gang-rape of her bound body at Jakadi’s home … Still naked, but unbound, Cat fought the need to cover herself with her arms and, unable to hide her resentment, answered with a surly “Yes”.
“Say ‘Sir’,” One of the two men she was with said in a very acceptable, hardly broken English.
“Put your hands on your head.” Cat saw the man’s gaze drop to her breasts as her movement lifted the two firm mounds making their erect tips tilt further upwards. He slowly moved the bamboo rod he was holding over her skin from her abdomen to indent the round underside of her left breast.
“Well?”
Her head was still spinning and her heart thumping madly. Cat took several seconds to understand before realising what he was waiting for.
“Yes … Sir,” she said at last, hating him for forcing the respectful word from her when all she felt was contempt. Yet she feared him.
“She seems unusual for one of her ‘Kind’,” the man said to his colleague, “Sort of detached.”
There was a pause, before he added, “Who do you work for? What is your name?”
Cat sighed. “My name is Catherine Regazzoni and I am a Swiss National. I was invited to stay with Hamat Jakadi …” Her words were cut short by a resounding slash of the cane directly onto her left breast that silenced the captured girl immediately.
“No, that’s not true. Mister Jakadi told us what you had done to his laptop and where the information had been sent. So, we already know that MI6 is involved, but we also need to know your name and which other countries in addition to the UK, are sponsoring your activities. So, talk to us …”
“Please!” Cat blurted. “Please, I can explain.” If Cat sounded desperate, it’s because she was.
The pressure of the rod against her breast increased, lifting it higher. “You’ve done enough explaining,” he said. “If you don’t wish to talk to us then you can do some obeying instead. We should escort her to Cell Block X.” The man grinned at Cat and offered further explanation. “That’s where the long-term detainees reside.”
The second man gave the Agent a crooked smile. “Think she can handle those bastards?”
His colleague nodded, “She’s a strong one, I think. She might see it through.”
It dawned on Cat they were not going to sexually assault her, not directly here and now, but she had heard enough to fear whatever it was they intended almost as much. She felt no relief when the rod was laid on the desk and the door to the small room they were in, opened.
“Come on then, Bitch,” No-Neck said, taking her arm in tight grip, “I’ll introduce you to our prize detainees. They’re the finest in the centre …” He guffawed his mirth out loud as Cat was pushed forward.
The din of the prison assailed Cat as they led her down the steps to an enormous room with its dim lights and dark corridors. It hammered her brain as well as her eardrums, denying her any chance of coherent thought. Once again only her practised self-control kept her fear and confusion at bay and stopped her from collapsing into a gibbering wreck.
She looked back on impulse. Behind her was nothing but darkness as they moved further into this blackened abyss.
Cat’s awareness of her own nudity intensified. Horribly, humiliatingly vulnerable and utterly helpless, she looked away and tried to steel herself for whatever awaited her. In the intense heat and humidity of this hidden cauldron, she was streaming with sweat before they even reached the corridor at the end of the biggest dome that was the source of the flickering orange glow she had seen earlier.
A heavily muscled man, stripped to the waist, held behind steel bars, watched their approach and Cat shrank from the look he was giving her. White teeth shone in his grimy face as he grinned through broken teeth at her.
No-Neck pulled a lever on the wall and the orange light flared to yellow and the indistinct figures in its shadow were instantly illuminated by a fiery glare. Cat would have turned and fled but for the insistent tug of Unibrow’s hand on her arm. Painfully reluctant, she let herself be led further into the gloom.
Flames belched from four large cells at the end of the corridor, licking out until they were almost singeing the gleaming, sweat-streaked bodies that fed them. It was an enormous furnace and the inmates were feeding it, hurling shovelfuls of coal into the dazzling heart of its fire.
“Oh, my God!” Cat’s words were lost amid the din of machinery and the furnace’s fearsome roar. She turned from the flames and saw two men with their faces and naked torsos coated with perspiration, looking at her with lust-fuelled expressions. Unibrow’s grip on her arm turned her back around.
“Okay, move,” came her instruction.
He pointed to a cell at the very end of this. She looked from his face to the cell and shook her head. “Please, don’t make me do …”
No-Neck nodded to someone behind her. A line of searing agony tore across Cat’s shoulder blades. She looked around with a cry and saw Unibrow grinning at her. He was coiling a long, thin lash between his hands.
Shocked, Cat shuddered at the stinging trail the lash had scored into her skin, and she shuffled her feet in the direction in which she was being herded.
“That’s better,” No-Neck yelled above the noise. “Now move your sweet ass, we have people waiting for it!”
To Be Continued …
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
Note - The Quds Force is one of five branches of Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) specializing in unconventional warfare and military intelligence ...
“Now, are you going to behave yourself?” Angry at the way they were treating her, but still horribly afraid, Cat faced them, these two men, her new captors; No-Neck and Unibrow who had brought her to this place all the way from Baku and the home of Hamat Jakadi.
Once she had unwound her stiffened muscles from the boot of the car she had been transported in, and after immediately vomiting due to the extreme cramping of her hogtied body, the captive Agent’s head had been covered with a bag and she had been led into this building. She had no idea where she was but she heard enough to know for sure that she had been given to the Iranians by that bastard Jakadi.
She knew what these monsters did to female spies, they had already participated in the gang-rape of her bound body at Jakadi’s home … Still naked, but unbound, Cat fought the need to cover herself with her arms and, unable to hide her resentment, answered with a surly “Yes”.
“Say ‘Sir’,” One of the two men she was with said in a very acceptable, hardly broken English.
“Put your hands on your head.” Cat saw the man’s gaze drop to her breasts as her movement lifted the two firm mounds making their erect tips tilt further upwards. He slowly moved the bamboo rod he was holding over her skin from her abdomen to indent the round underside of her left breast.
“Well?”
Her head was still spinning and her heart thumping madly. Cat took several seconds to understand before realising what he was waiting for.
“Yes … Sir,” she said at last, hating him for forcing the respectful word from her when all she felt was contempt. Yet she feared him.
“She seems unusual for one of her ‘Kind’,” the man said to his colleague, “Sort of detached.”
There was a pause, before he added, “Who do you work for? What is your name?”
Cat sighed. “My name is Catherine Regazzoni and I am a Swiss National. I was invited to stay with Hamat Jakadi …” Her words were cut short by a resounding slash of the cane directly onto her left breast that silenced the captured girl immediately.
“No, that’s not true. Mister Jakadi told us what you had done to his laptop and where the information had been sent. So, we already know that MI6 is involved, but we also need to know your name and which other countries in addition to the UK, are sponsoring your activities. So, talk to us …”
“Please!” Cat blurted. “Please, I can explain.” If Cat sounded desperate, it’s because she was.
The pressure of the rod against her breast increased, lifting it higher. “You’ve done enough explaining,” he said. “If you don’t wish to talk to us then you can do some obeying instead. We should escort her to Cell Block X.” The man grinned at Cat and offered further explanation. “That’s where the long-term detainees reside.”
The second man gave the Agent a crooked smile. “Think she can handle those bastards?”
His colleague nodded, “She’s a strong one, I think. She might see it through.”
It dawned on Cat they were not going to sexually assault her, not directly here and now, but she had heard enough to fear whatever it was they intended almost as much. She felt no relief when the rod was laid on the desk and the door to the small room they were in, opened.
“Come on then, Bitch,” No-Neck said, taking her arm in tight grip, “I’ll introduce you to our prize detainees. They’re the finest in the centre …” He guffawed his mirth out loud as Cat was pushed forward.
The din of the prison assailed Cat as they led her down the steps to an enormous room with its dim lights and dark corridors. It hammered her brain as well as her eardrums, denying her any chance of coherent thought. Once again only her practised self-control kept her fear and confusion at bay and stopped her from collapsing into a gibbering wreck.
She looked back on impulse. Behind her was nothing but darkness as they moved further into this blackened abyss.
Cat’s awareness of her own nudity intensified. Horribly, humiliatingly vulnerable and utterly helpless, she looked away and tried to steel herself for whatever awaited her. In the intense heat and humidity of this hidden cauldron, she was streaming with sweat before they even reached the corridor at the end of the biggest dome that was the source of the flickering orange glow she had seen earlier.
A heavily muscled man, stripped to the waist, held behind steel bars, watched their approach and Cat shrank from the look he was giving her. White teeth shone in his grimy face as he grinned through broken teeth at her.
No-Neck pulled a lever on the wall and the orange light flared to yellow and the indistinct figures in its shadow were instantly illuminated by a fiery glare. Cat would have turned and fled but for the insistent tug of Unibrow’s hand on her arm. Painfully reluctant, she let herself be led further into the gloom.
Flames belched from four large cells at the end of the corridor, licking out until they were almost singeing the gleaming, sweat-streaked bodies that fed them. It was an enormous furnace and the inmates were feeding it, hurling shovelfuls of coal into the dazzling heart of its fire.
“Oh, my God!” Cat’s words were lost amid the din of machinery and the furnace’s fearsome roar. She turned from the flames and saw two men with their faces and naked torsos coated with perspiration, looking at her with lust-fuelled expressions. Unibrow’s grip on her arm turned her back around.
“Okay, move,” came her instruction.
He pointed to a cell at the very end of this. She looked from his face to the cell and shook her head. “Please, don’t make me do …”
No-Neck nodded to someone behind her. A line of searing agony tore across Cat’s shoulder blades. She looked around with a cry and saw Unibrow grinning at her. He was coiling a long, thin lash between his hands.
Shocked, Cat shuddered at the stinging trail the lash had scored into her skin, and she shuffled her feet in the direction in which she was being herded.
“That’s better,” No-Neck yelled above the noise. “Now move your sweet ass, we have people waiting for it!”
To Be Continued …
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
It's always possible that they think they know everything she knows, and intend instead to use her as 'Publicity Collateral' (after having her well and truly 'seen to') ... time will tell two-nine's ...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Torture in Tehran (3)
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
Cat had been forced into having sex before, many times. It’s true to say that her fetish for such an enforced condition was paramount in the list of things that aroused her the most, but she had never been raped as viciously and as brutally as she was by the inmates in Cell Block X. Those bastards had taken her in every possible way and filled all conceivable entry points into her body with their juices …
And then she was unceremoniously dumped back into the small secured room that had been allocated to her. No more questions, not yet, just silence and isolation.
In her lonely state Cat could not stop her mind from projecting images of the horror she had just lived through.. The detainees had interconnected cells, each frontage was heavily barred, but one cell’s interior led to another. It was into this catacomb of violence that Cat was thrust.
She felt sick as she recalled how she had begged and pleaded. This wasn’t an interrogation, there were no questions to answer, it was sexual torture, pure and simple, and no doubt No-Neck and Unibrow were watching on a computer screen somewhere.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Cat had shouted as the first brute dragged her into his cell, his big hand clamped over her mouth as her bare ass hit the concrete floor.
"Hold this lively cunt down." The other prisoners joined the first one and surrounded poor, vulnerable Agent Cat.
"No! Fuck you!" She kicked out, hard. Her fists flew and she knew that she had hit muscle a few times, but it wasn't enough. The huge monster of a man positioned himself behind her and held her arms above her head while two of the others each took one of her legs and drew them up high, so that the captive girl’s knees were pushed into her abdomen with her legs spread wide.
A vast torso shoved between her thighs and a grinning face mocked her.
“Please …” Cat whispered as he positioned his erection and thrust hard …
"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck - GO AWAY" Cat yelled to no one but the unwanted images in her mind.
The captive Agent shook her head to rid herself of the memory as best she could. She hadn’t washed and she had been forced to urinate once again, on the floor, in the corner … It was towards that corner that No-Neck, when he re-entered her cell, threw her, once he had gripped her hair and dragged the brutally violated Cat back to her feet ...
She hit the cold brick with a slam, her hands protecting her face, but her knees and breasts taking the hard force as she smashed into the wall.
The exhausted girl slumped to the floor whereupon, again by her hair, she was painfully pulled upright and thrown once more, this time against the steel bars of the cell.
She was too breathless to scream, and by the look of the bulge under No-Necks dirty combats, he was too lust-fuelled to say anything. So, the violent vignette played out without a single word being spoken.
This time he gripped her shoulders, pulled her up and shoved her a few steps until her stomach pushed against the edge of the small white topped table, the only furniture in the room, and he bent her over. This was it …
“Please,” Cat mumbled quietly and with a meek intonation.
He offered no response, not even a mocking one.
Pressing his body against hers, he used his weight to keep her still. His right hand resting on the smooth, worn surface of the table. He twisted her head to look into his eyes.
A silent warning to comply.
She could hear him panting and felt the length of his erection pushed against her ass. Adrenaline and panic coursed through her body and the thud in her chest hammered against Cat’s ribcage like it wanted out. Her eyes began to well with pent up tears.
“Please. Don’t,” she wailed, trying to work up the courage to scream, but he pushed against her harder, clearly enjoying the power.
“Who else are you working for, other than the British … Catherine Lavigne.”
They knew her name. Fuck.
“WHO ELSE!” He yelled when Cat still failed to respond.
Despite the outward show of defiance, Cat’s legs crumpled like they no longer belonged to her. Her eyes strayed to the ground; he wore black army boots and dark, torn combat pants.
The captive Agent’s right arm was wrenched behind her back, almost pulling her shoulder out of its socket. Pushing his cock into her hand, he forced her fingers to wrap around it. Cat’s stomach plummeted to the floor and she fought the urge to urinate.
His erection felt huge in her palm, engorged with blood and his thick, white seed …
Tears ran down her cheeks as he groaned in satisfaction, moving her hand back and forth to pleasure himself until she’d got the rhythm.
His eyes had told her to comply.
Cat complied.
She could feel her throat closing up, the bile rising. Eyes focused on the cold, hard brick, anywhere but her hand, and what it was doing.
Suddenly he’d had enough foreplay and strong arms reached around her waist to the front of her body.
“Be a good girl, Catherine,” he panted.
She swallowed hard and managed a strange squeak of submission. The cold realisation of what lay ahead dawning on her, powerless to stop it.
“No … Please.” She begged once more.
Grabbing her hair, he forced her down, over the top of the table, her breasts flattened against the surface, the table-edge compressing her chest, and kicked her feet as far apart they would go. She tried to cry out, but no sound came. He groaned as his hand thrust between her legs, exposing her vulva to his repulsive touch.
“Who are you working for Catherine? Is it the fucking Americans huh?”
“You might as well talk to me Agent Lavigne, because no one will save you, no one is coming … except for me of course!” He laughed at his own words.
She heard him spit … lubrication … and chuckle once more, before pushing his erection without any thought or care, roughly inside his victim, penetrating her core in a single long thrust.
The sudden burning sensation from below was excruciating, firing all her senses and nerves onto red alert. Biting on her own hand, Cat squeezed her eyes tight as warm urine squeezed out from between her desecrated thighs and dribbled down her legs.
Debased in the worst possible way … again. Only this time, somehow it seemed worse, more personal, more degrading … the feeling of him raping her was stark, isolated, discreet in its own perverted right.
Cat felt everything … and she hated it all.
Trying to focus on the rhythmic shuffle of the table banging against the brick, Cat felt every thrust as her hip bones slammed remorselessly into its near edge.
The intensity of his tempo grew. Each lunge getting harder and deeper, skin slapping against skin. Her breath being sucked and pushed out as he raised Cat’s right leg in order to gain unencumbered entry to her body. As his grunting pitched higher, he pulled on her hair, snapping her head back, and with one final thrust his body went rigid.
Finally, he relaxed, his hold on Cat slackened with his climactic release and then his weight lifted. Her ribs felt crushed and she was sure the imprint of the table would be forever ingrained into her stomach.
Seconds later, she heard the pull of his zipper slip back into place. Leaning over, he used the thumb of his hand, still scented with Cat’s juices, to stroke her cheek. Her stomach heaved at the unwanted intimacy. He’d just raped her, yet he touched her face like they were a couple in love.
She tasted bile and fought hard not to vomit as the ravished Agent remained in situ, splayed out over the table, exposed like a rag doll, too distraught at what had just taken place to move. In that moment, she just wanted to curl up and die.
Seconds stretched out in front of her. She could hear no background noise at all. It was deathly quiet. She waited for something, a fist or a blade slicing her skin. Something to end her ordeal, but it never came.
Was it over?
A hollow silence filled the gap. Cat hesitated, unsure what to do as the trickle of his thick juice spilled from her body and ran down her slender thighs. After what seemed like the longest time her legs gave way and she slid to the floor; daring to turn around, to face what was coming.
When she did, the cell was empty. He was gone.
To Be Continued …
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
Cat had been forced into having sex before, many times. It’s true to say that her fetish for such an enforced condition was paramount in the list of things that aroused her the most, but she had never been raped as viciously and as brutally as she was by the inmates in Cell Block X. Those bastards had taken her in every possible way and filled all conceivable entry points into her body with their juices …
And then she was unceremoniously dumped back into the small secured room that had been allocated to her. No more questions, not yet, just silence and isolation.
In her lonely state Cat could not stop her mind from projecting images of the horror she had just lived through.. The detainees had interconnected cells, each frontage was heavily barred, but one cell’s interior led to another. It was into this catacomb of violence that Cat was thrust.
She felt sick as she recalled how she had begged and pleaded. This wasn’t an interrogation, there were no questions to answer, it was sexual torture, pure and simple, and no doubt No-Neck and Unibrow were watching on a computer screen somewhere.
"No, no, no, no, no!" Cat had shouted as the first brute dragged her into his cell, his big hand clamped over her mouth as her bare ass hit the concrete floor.
"Hold this lively cunt down." The other prisoners joined the first one and surrounded poor, vulnerable Agent Cat.
"No! Fuck you!" She kicked out, hard. Her fists flew and she knew that she had hit muscle a few times, but it wasn't enough. The huge monster of a man positioned himself behind her and held her arms above her head while two of the others each took one of her legs and drew them up high, so that the captive girl’s knees were pushed into her abdomen with her legs spread wide.
A vast torso shoved between her thighs and a grinning face mocked her.
“Please …” Cat whispered as he positioned his erection and thrust hard …
"Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck - GO AWAY" Cat yelled to no one but the unwanted images in her mind.
The captive Agent shook her head to rid herself of the memory as best she could. She hadn’t washed and she had been forced to urinate once again, on the floor, in the corner … It was towards that corner that No-Neck, when he re-entered her cell, threw her, once he had gripped her hair and dragged the brutally violated Cat back to her feet ...
She hit the cold brick with a slam, her hands protecting her face, but her knees and breasts taking the hard force as she smashed into the wall.
The exhausted girl slumped to the floor whereupon, again by her hair, she was painfully pulled upright and thrown once more, this time against the steel bars of the cell.
She was too breathless to scream, and by the look of the bulge under No-Necks dirty combats, he was too lust-fuelled to say anything. So, the violent vignette played out without a single word being spoken.
This time he gripped her shoulders, pulled her up and shoved her a few steps until her stomach pushed against the edge of the small white topped table, the only furniture in the room, and he bent her over. This was it …
“Please,” Cat mumbled quietly and with a meek intonation.
He offered no response, not even a mocking one.
Pressing his body against hers, he used his weight to keep her still. His right hand resting on the smooth, worn surface of the table. He twisted her head to look into his eyes.
A silent warning to comply.
She could hear him panting and felt the length of his erection pushed against her ass. Adrenaline and panic coursed through her body and the thud in her chest hammered against Cat’s ribcage like it wanted out. Her eyes began to well with pent up tears.
“Please. Don’t,” she wailed, trying to work up the courage to scream, but he pushed against her harder, clearly enjoying the power.
“Who else are you working for, other than the British … Catherine Lavigne.”
They knew her name. Fuck.
“WHO ELSE!” He yelled when Cat still failed to respond.
Despite the outward show of defiance, Cat’s legs crumpled like they no longer belonged to her. Her eyes strayed to the ground; he wore black army boots and dark, torn combat pants.
The captive Agent’s right arm was wrenched behind her back, almost pulling her shoulder out of its socket. Pushing his cock into her hand, he forced her fingers to wrap around it. Cat’s stomach plummeted to the floor and she fought the urge to urinate.
His erection felt huge in her palm, engorged with blood and his thick, white seed …
Tears ran down her cheeks as he groaned in satisfaction, moving her hand back and forth to pleasure himself until she’d got the rhythm.
His eyes had told her to comply.
Cat complied.
She could feel her throat closing up, the bile rising. Eyes focused on the cold, hard brick, anywhere but her hand, and what it was doing.
Suddenly he’d had enough foreplay and strong arms reached around her waist to the front of her body.
“Be a good girl, Catherine,” he panted.
She swallowed hard and managed a strange squeak of submission. The cold realisation of what lay ahead dawning on her, powerless to stop it.
“No … Please.” She begged once more.
Grabbing her hair, he forced her down, over the top of the table, her breasts flattened against the surface, the table-edge compressing her chest, and kicked her feet as far apart they would go. She tried to cry out, but no sound came. He groaned as his hand thrust between her legs, exposing her vulva to his repulsive touch.
“Who are you working for Catherine? Is it the fucking Americans huh?”
“You might as well talk to me Agent Lavigne, because no one will save you, no one is coming … except for me of course!” He laughed at his own words.
She heard him spit … lubrication … and chuckle once more, before pushing his erection without any thought or care, roughly inside his victim, penetrating her core in a single long thrust.
The sudden burning sensation from below was excruciating, firing all her senses and nerves onto red alert. Biting on her own hand, Cat squeezed her eyes tight as warm urine squeezed out from between her desecrated thighs and dribbled down her legs.
Debased in the worst possible way … again. Only this time, somehow it seemed worse, more personal, more degrading … the feeling of him raping her was stark, isolated, discreet in its own perverted right.
Cat felt everything … and she hated it all.
Trying to focus on the rhythmic shuffle of the table banging against the brick, Cat felt every thrust as her hip bones slammed remorselessly into its near edge.
The intensity of his tempo grew. Each lunge getting harder and deeper, skin slapping against skin. Her breath being sucked and pushed out as he raised Cat’s right leg in order to gain unencumbered entry to her body. As his grunting pitched higher, he pulled on her hair, snapping her head back, and with one final thrust his body went rigid.
Finally, he relaxed, his hold on Cat slackened with his climactic release and then his weight lifted. Her ribs felt crushed and she was sure the imprint of the table would be forever ingrained into her stomach.
Seconds later, she heard the pull of his zipper slip back into place. Leaning over, he used the thumb of his hand, still scented with Cat’s juices, to stroke her cheek. Her stomach heaved at the unwanted intimacy. He’d just raped her, yet he touched her face like they were a couple in love.
She tasted bile and fought hard not to vomit as the ravished Agent remained in situ, splayed out over the table, exposed like a rag doll, too distraught at what had just taken place to move. In that moment, she just wanted to curl up and die.
Seconds stretched out in front of her. She could hear no background noise at all. It was deathly quiet. She waited for something, a fist or a blade slicing her skin. Something to end her ordeal, but it never came.
Was it over?
A hollow silence filled the gap. Cat hesitated, unsure what to do as the trickle of his thick juice spilled from her body and ran down her slender thighs. After what seemed like the longest time her legs gave way and she slid to the floor; daring to turn around, to face what was coming.
When she did, the cell was empty. He was gone.
To Be Continued …
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Torture in Tehran (4)
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
Appearing to smile calmly, inside No-Neck could barely contain his excitement. He had been an active member of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps National Quds Force for over two years now, and even though the Western World condemned them as part of an Iranian terrorist regime, the man was proud of how hard he had worked to get to where he was now.
Actually, right now he had this gorgeous cunt of an Agent at his mercy. Catherine Lavigne, a mercenary posing as a Swiss National working undercover for the Brits … but who else was paying her wages? It was key that he and his colleague, the man in the Unibrow, got that piece of information out of her. If the Americans were involved then the issue at Nagorno-Karabakh took on a different scale.
No-Neck was waiting for the subjugated and bound girl to drag herself up off the floor of her cell, exactly where he had left her after his ‘conjugal’ visit earlier in the day.
On that occasion he had been seeking his own sadistic pleasure, no more no less. But now the serious matter of extracting more from the bitch had become paramount. The man opened the cell door and stood facing the naked girl, a coil of rope hanging loosely from his hand.
There was no time for Cat to wonder about the exact nature of his intentions, before No-Neck was behind her, his hands at her neck slipping the noosed rope over her head and pulling tight. Immediately Cat’s hand flew upwards to pull at the coil as it tightened, digging into the flesh of her neck and biting into her throat.
“Where have you been?” No-Neck growled at his colleague as Unibrow appeared and pulled Cat’s hands behind her back before cuffing them.
“I’m here now, so let’s get this done.” Was his surly response.
They pulled and pushed the captive girl down a darkened corridor and into a slightly larger room. Bare brick was all that made up the walls, and rough concrete served as the floor.
Cat gasped, but her sense of impending doom was only heightened when she was pushed and forced onto her knees before being pressed face down onto the length of wood that sat in the middle of the room.
"No, please ..." her pleadings were said quietly and served as nothing more than additional stimulation for the perverted whims of her captors. She knew what this was for, though it was a long time since she had experienced the agonies of the bastinado. Could she handle the pain? She hoped so. Was she scared? Yes, very much so.
Cat wanted to resist, to drag the last remnants of her stoicism to the fore and fight these bastards, but even as they unfastened the cuffs and removed the rope leash, their combined strength was too much for the exhausted Agent. So, she succumbed to the inevitable as her wrists were pulled into iron cuffs at the 'head-end' of the plank while her ankles were contained between two locked pieces of timber.
"Fuck ..." She cursed quietly, hoping desperately for the strength to withstand the onslaught that she knew was about to come.
Unibrow positioned the rope under the plank at the 'foot-end' and slipped it over the winch mechanism. Cat whimpered quietly when the board was raised from the floor at a 45-degree angle, leaving her feet higher than her head. Despite having the front of her naked body flat to the timber, she felt totally exposed. She could barely move, and the position exposed the unprotected and upturned soles of her feet to the monsters that had now moved to her rear.
"Hurt her," Unibrow said simply as No-Neck took up the bamboo cane.
Cat bit into her lower lip knowing that to beg would only heighten their sadistic pleasure.
No matter how much she struggled, she wouldn't be able to move her feet enough to avoid their intended attention.
No-Neck pulled up a chair and looked down into her eyes.
"This is your final chance, Agent Lavigne. Tell us who you are working for.” He said the words but hoped that the bound length of nubile flesh before him would not respond. He did not want to miss out on the fun about to come.
“No one, no one else, just what you know … you know everything already …” It was uncharacteristic but Cat begged and pleaded, fearing what was about to happen.
The two men laughed.
"Actually, when my colleague said 'hurt' I would not have used that word. Hurt is such a soft word, I always think, a weak word, open to misinterpretation. Personally, I prefer the word torture. It makes things so much clear in the victim's mind I find, it concentrates their thoughts beautifully. So, torture is the word I'm going to use with you Agent Lavigne. You've failed to tell us what we wanted to know and so now I’m going to torture you. You will then really tell us everything."
Cat began to struggle, but she was secured far too efficiently, and so after a few seconds of movement she lay still again, resigned to her fate. No-Neck continued with his unsettling discourse.
"Victim. Now there's a word that conjures up a different image altogether. Such a lovely word, do you not think so? That is you, is it not, Miss Lavigne? Our ‘victim’".
Without waiting for an answer No-Neck stood and began to drum out a gentle beat with the cane on the sole of Cat’s left foot. The cadence reverberated throughout her slender body as he drummed out the same steady, repetitive rhythm. But even through this he continued to talk menacingly.
Cat gritted her teeth as the cane repeatedly, but lightly, berated her sole.
"Shall I tell you something interesting?" He paused, expecting no reply, and getting none.
"Soon you will be begging us to stop. Willing to tell us anything and everything if only we'll stop hurting you. Sorry, torturing you."
This time he did get a response. A muffled "Go to hell you bastard!"
Her response made No-Neck smile. The continual rhythm he was tapping out on her feet was clearly getting to the bound victim, terrifying her, but it wasn't really hurting. Yet still the pitter-patter of the cane went on, a faint tapping sound echoed around the room.
For a few seconds, the rhythm slowed, before picking up again, only faster this time. "You will beg us because you want us to stop hurting you. But we'll just keep on going, and your need to say anything at all to make us stop will become so strong that you will not be able hide it from us anymore. You will know when you reach that point, and so will we. Then we'll stop and you can speak to us. Tell us what we want to hear."
Cat had heard every single one of his words, and now he seemed to have finished she paused for a second before replying, "Fuck you, and damn you all to hell!"
No-Neck smiled as his gaze lowered onto her firm and peachy bare ass staring up at him from the plank, but the rhythm went on relentlessly as he drummed out his twisted tune.
To Be Continued …
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
Appearing to smile calmly, inside No-Neck could barely contain his excitement. He had been an active member of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps National Quds Force for over two years now, and even though the Western World condemned them as part of an Iranian terrorist regime, the man was proud of how hard he had worked to get to where he was now.
Actually, right now he had this gorgeous cunt of an Agent at his mercy. Catherine Lavigne, a mercenary posing as a Swiss National working undercover for the Brits … but who else was paying her wages? It was key that he and his colleague, the man in the Unibrow, got that piece of information out of her. If the Americans were involved then the issue at Nagorno-Karabakh took on a different scale.
No-Neck was waiting for the subjugated and bound girl to drag herself up off the floor of her cell, exactly where he had left her after his ‘conjugal’ visit earlier in the day.
On that occasion he had been seeking his own sadistic pleasure, no more no less. But now the serious matter of extracting more from the bitch had become paramount. The man opened the cell door and stood facing the naked girl, a coil of rope hanging loosely from his hand.
There was no time for Cat to wonder about the exact nature of his intentions, before No-Neck was behind her, his hands at her neck slipping the noosed rope over her head and pulling tight. Immediately Cat’s hand flew upwards to pull at the coil as it tightened, digging into the flesh of her neck and biting into her throat.
“Where have you been?” No-Neck growled at his colleague as Unibrow appeared and pulled Cat’s hands behind her back before cuffing them.
“I’m here now, so let’s get this done.” Was his surly response.
They pulled and pushed the captive girl down a darkened corridor and into a slightly larger room. Bare brick was all that made up the walls, and rough concrete served as the floor.
Cat gasped, but her sense of impending doom was only heightened when she was pushed and forced onto her knees before being pressed face down onto the length of wood that sat in the middle of the room.
"No, please ..." her pleadings were said quietly and served as nothing more than additional stimulation for the perverted whims of her captors. She knew what this was for, though it was a long time since she had experienced the agonies of the bastinado. Could she handle the pain? She hoped so. Was she scared? Yes, very much so.
Cat wanted to resist, to drag the last remnants of her stoicism to the fore and fight these bastards, but even as they unfastened the cuffs and removed the rope leash, their combined strength was too much for the exhausted Agent. So, she succumbed to the inevitable as her wrists were pulled into iron cuffs at the 'head-end' of the plank while her ankles were contained between two locked pieces of timber.
"Fuck ..." She cursed quietly, hoping desperately for the strength to withstand the onslaught that she knew was about to come.
Unibrow positioned the rope under the plank at the 'foot-end' and slipped it over the winch mechanism. Cat whimpered quietly when the board was raised from the floor at a 45-degree angle, leaving her feet higher than her head. Despite having the front of her naked body flat to the timber, she felt totally exposed. She could barely move, and the position exposed the unprotected and upturned soles of her feet to the monsters that had now moved to her rear.
"Hurt her," Unibrow said simply as No-Neck took up the bamboo cane.
Cat bit into her lower lip knowing that to beg would only heighten their sadistic pleasure.
No matter how much she struggled, she wouldn't be able to move her feet enough to avoid their intended attention.
No-Neck pulled up a chair and looked down into her eyes.
"This is your final chance, Agent Lavigne. Tell us who you are working for.” He said the words but hoped that the bound length of nubile flesh before him would not respond. He did not want to miss out on the fun about to come.
“No one, no one else, just what you know … you know everything already …” It was uncharacteristic but Cat begged and pleaded, fearing what was about to happen.
The two men laughed.
"Actually, when my colleague said 'hurt' I would not have used that word. Hurt is such a soft word, I always think, a weak word, open to misinterpretation. Personally, I prefer the word torture. It makes things so much clear in the victim's mind I find, it concentrates their thoughts beautifully. So, torture is the word I'm going to use with you Agent Lavigne. You've failed to tell us what we wanted to know and so now I’m going to torture you. You will then really tell us everything."
Cat began to struggle, but she was secured far too efficiently, and so after a few seconds of movement she lay still again, resigned to her fate. No-Neck continued with his unsettling discourse.
"Victim. Now there's a word that conjures up a different image altogether. Such a lovely word, do you not think so? That is you, is it not, Miss Lavigne? Our ‘victim’".
Without waiting for an answer No-Neck stood and began to drum out a gentle beat with the cane on the sole of Cat’s left foot. The cadence reverberated throughout her slender body as he drummed out the same steady, repetitive rhythm. But even through this he continued to talk menacingly.
Cat gritted her teeth as the cane repeatedly, but lightly, berated her sole.
"Shall I tell you something interesting?" He paused, expecting no reply, and getting none.
"Soon you will be begging us to stop. Willing to tell us anything and everything if only we'll stop hurting you. Sorry, torturing you."
This time he did get a response. A muffled "Go to hell you bastard!"
Her response made No-Neck smile. The continual rhythm he was tapping out on her feet was clearly getting to the bound victim, terrifying her, but it wasn't really hurting. Yet still the pitter-patter of the cane went on, a faint tapping sound echoed around the room.
For a few seconds, the rhythm slowed, before picking up again, only faster this time. "You will beg us because you want us to stop hurting you. But we'll just keep on going, and your need to say anything at all to make us stop will become so strong that you will not be able hide it from us anymore. You will know when you reach that point, and so will we. Then we'll stop and you can speak to us. Tell us what we want to hear."
Cat had heard every single one of his words, and now he seemed to have finished she paused for a second before replying, "Fuck you, and damn you all to hell!"
No-Neck smiled as his gaze lowered onto her firm and peachy bare ass staring up at him from the plank, but the rhythm went on relentlessly as he drummed out his twisted tune.
To Be Continued …
A
AliciaD
Guest
I was not familiar with your writings, and I find them extraordinary. Good erotic and eroticizing literature! I can't help but feel in the victim's shoes, and I can well imagine all the torments you describe. Pure sensations! My congratulations, and of course I will follow you!
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Torture in Tehran (5)
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
No-Neck paused the gentle but repetitive beating of the cane on Cat’s left sole for a second.
"Soon," he said quietly, and then immediately delivered the first real blow. Cat never saw it coming. The speed of its delivery even caught Unibrow by surprise. Without breaking rhythm, No-Neck swung the bamboo cane hard, hitting the sole of her foot with all the power he could muster. Indescribable pain shot up the length of Agent Cat’s left leg like a fireball exploding into her body.
"Aaarrrghhhhhhhhhhhh! Fuckkkkkkkkk"
Cat writhed and squirmed on the wood, contorting before her back arched and her first unearthly shriek filled the room. The pain and terror combined to bring a brittle, razor-edged resonance to the sound.
No-Neck's eyes shifted from the girl to Unibrow. His head was nodding and a smirk broke out on his lips. There had been real pain in her scream, genuine agony, authentic fear, and it had stiffened the groin of both men.
Long before Cat 's shrieking cries could deteriorate into a low, persistent keening, the pitter-patter of the cane in No-Neck’s hand took up their rhythm all over again. This time it was played out on the sole of her other foot, and with the beating of the cane came the sound of his voice. Softly and persistently, taking full advantage of her vulnerability, he began to mock the poor, bound girl.
"How did you like that?" He asked. "Still think you can withstand this pain, do you?"
For a few seconds Cat struggled wildly, but the restraints binding her to the plank were secured too tightly, too firmly. In fact, the harder she struggled, the more the fetters seemed to constrict around her. She soon gave up and, despite the discomfort of her deportment, lay quietly on the wood, trembling and whimpering softly as she waited for the pain to visit her again.
Cat could only move her foot an inch or so, and the cane followed her relentlessly. The drumming began again, only this time he didn't keep her waiting quite so long, though the final slashing blow was delivered with equal ferocity. For a second time Cat 's body contorted in agony, and the room was filled by the keening sound of her shrieking screams as No-Neck quickly switched his attention back to her left foot.
When Cat began to babble, No-Neck did nothing to dissuade her; to him the sound of her pleading voice was sweet, like the taste of wild honey on the tip of his tongue.
"No," she whimpered, "… please, no more. It hurts, it hurts too much."
All she could hear was his laughter; all she could feel was the cane beating out its cruel rhythm on the soles of her feet.
"That's the point bitch, it's meant to hurt ... to torture you, no point doing it if it doesn't. Are you ready to start talking to us yet Agent Cat? You know what we need to hear."
He knew she wasn't ready to talk yet. He could see and feel Cat’s body tensing as she gritted her teeth and tried to resist. She was still trying to deny the inevitable, but already the bound Agent’s breathing was coming in short, pained gasps as she tried to anticipate when the next blow was going to fall. That was the true beauty of the Falaka or bastinado; the anguish of the wait was every bit as painful as the blinding instant of agony when the next blow fell.
He looked across at Unibrow and nodded. "Next time," he said, "Next time I hurt her she will start begging for it to stop. Next time she really will want it to end, and she will say anything just to put an end to the pain."
He kept Cat waiting a very long time. Pausing occasionally, and altering the pitter-patter rhythm of the cane several times, he tempted her into the certain belief that the blow was about to fall. Watching her body as it tensed in anticipation and then relaxed slightly when the blow failed to materialise. He chose the moment she was least expecting it to drive the violent slash, the moment when the pain would be at its most intense.
This time Cat really cried out. Screamed with the throbbing agony and she began to shake uncontrollably.
"Please, Stop. Don’t hurt me anymore I beg you ... just stop, please."
Every time she begged No-Neck came back at her with the same reply.
"Not yet, you can take a lot more punishment than this. We need to hear you truly begging for us to stop, and you are not yet begging with enough sincerity!"
So, the torment continued, the remorseless tapping on her feet, followed by that blinding instant of white-hot pain that lost none of its potency with repetition. Steadily the desperation of her demeanour increased in its urgency. Now her whole body was quaking, her eyes were wide and staring, and her lips drawn back over her teeth in an ugly grimace. Everything the bastard had said, was happening, and finally Cat began to beg them to stop.
"Please, please stop. I will do anything you want, say anything you want ... no more please, I beg you … Sir … I will do anything." She groaned, desperate to feel relief from this perpetual torment and put a stop to the pain racking her body.
"For God's sake please ... STOP!"
To Be Continued …
Classified Quds Force Detention Centre in Tehran, Iran
No-Neck paused the gentle but repetitive beating of the cane on Cat’s left sole for a second.
"Soon," he said quietly, and then immediately delivered the first real blow. Cat never saw it coming. The speed of its delivery even caught Unibrow by surprise. Without breaking rhythm, No-Neck swung the bamboo cane hard, hitting the sole of her foot with all the power he could muster. Indescribable pain shot up the length of Agent Cat’s left leg like a fireball exploding into her body.
"Aaarrrghhhhhhhhhhhh! Fuckkkkkkkkk"
Cat writhed and squirmed on the wood, contorting before her back arched and her first unearthly shriek filled the room. The pain and terror combined to bring a brittle, razor-edged resonance to the sound.
No-Neck's eyes shifted from the girl to Unibrow. His head was nodding and a smirk broke out on his lips. There had been real pain in her scream, genuine agony, authentic fear, and it had stiffened the groin of both men.
Long before Cat 's shrieking cries could deteriorate into a low, persistent keening, the pitter-patter of the cane in No-Neck’s hand took up their rhythm all over again. This time it was played out on the sole of her other foot, and with the beating of the cane came the sound of his voice. Softly and persistently, taking full advantage of her vulnerability, he began to mock the poor, bound girl.
"How did you like that?" He asked. "Still think you can withstand this pain, do you?"
For a few seconds Cat struggled wildly, but the restraints binding her to the plank were secured too tightly, too firmly. In fact, the harder she struggled, the more the fetters seemed to constrict around her. She soon gave up and, despite the discomfort of her deportment, lay quietly on the wood, trembling and whimpering softly as she waited for the pain to visit her again.
Cat could only move her foot an inch or so, and the cane followed her relentlessly. The drumming began again, only this time he didn't keep her waiting quite so long, though the final slashing blow was delivered with equal ferocity. For a second time Cat 's body contorted in agony, and the room was filled by the keening sound of her shrieking screams as No-Neck quickly switched his attention back to her left foot.
When Cat began to babble, No-Neck did nothing to dissuade her; to him the sound of her pleading voice was sweet, like the taste of wild honey on the tip of his tongue.
"No," she whimpered, "… please, no more. It hurts, it hurts too much."
All she could hear was his laughter; all she could feel was the cane beating out its cruel rhythm on the soles of her feet.
"That's the point bitch, it's meant to hurt ... to torture you, no point doing it if it doesn't. Are you ready to start talking to us yet Agent Cat? You know what we need to hear."
He knew she wasn't ready to talk yet. He could see and feel Cat’s body tensing as she gritted her teeth and tried to resist. She was still trying to deny the inevitable, but already the bound Agent’s breathing was coming in short, pained gasps as she tried to anticipate when the next blow was going to fall. That was the true beauty of the Falaka or bastinado; the anguish of the wait was every bit as painful as the blinding instant of agony when the next blow fell.
He looked across at Unibrow and nodded. "Next time," he said, "Next time I hurt her she will start begging for it to stop. Next time she really will want it to end, and she will say anything just to put an end to the pain."
He kept Cat waiting a very long time. Pausing occasionally, and altering the pitter-patter rhythm of the cane several times, he tempted her into the certain belief that the blow was about to fall. Watching her body as it tensed in anticipation and then relaxed slightly when the blow failed to materialise. He chose the moment she was least expecting it to drive the violent slash, the moment when the pain would be at its most intense.
This time Cat really cried out. Screamed with the throbbing agony and she began to shake uncontrollably.
"Please, Stop. Don’t hurt me anymore I beg you ... just stop, please."
Every time she begged No-Neck came back at her with the same reply.
"Not yet, you can take a lot more punishment than this. We need to hear you truly begging for us to stop, and you are not yet begging with enough sincerity!"
So, the torment continued, the remorseless tapping on her feet, followed by that blinding instant of white-hot pain that lost none of its potency with repetition. Steadily the desperation of her demeanour increased in its urgency. Now her whole body was quaking, her eyes were wide and staring, and her lips drawn back over her teeth in an ugly grimace. Everything the bastard had said, was happening, and finally Cat began to beg them to stop.
"Please, please stop. I will do anything you want, say anything you want ... no more please, I beg you … Sir … I will do anything." She groaned, desperate to feel relief from this perpetual torment and put a stop to the pain racking her body.
"For God's sake please ... STOP!"
To Be Continued …
Wow, @Fossy tgat was one of the most intense descriptions of bastinado that I’ve read. The focus on her anticipation, reaction, and deepening surrender really helped make me feel I was there, feeling each stroke with her, as if it was my feet being so deliberately tortured. Just the way I like it, and what keeps me addicted to Sexpionage! Well done, well done both of you assuming @catOnine was involved in creating this riveting chapter!