-
Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.
Sexpionage III
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
Errrr.......How?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Damn. It. Old One ... what an oversight ... hopefully about to be fixed. Houdini would have struggled with that sequence of events ... Thanks for pointing it out ...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
All sorted
...
Sharkman
Governor
O.K. @old slave , that's I call experience of life. A bug inside the MATRIX. In modern, digital times it seems more is possible. In real Lacey ist a 'Spectre (2015)'. (@Lace , you excuse this, I hope.)
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Hard Time (2)
Briefing Room 1 – MI6 SIS HQ, Vauxhall, London
“What the fuck did you think you were doing Miller?” Along with an interrogation specialist, Roger Moore had completed the questioning of Ahmed Al-Karhim and then returned to the Briefing Room, whereupon he had summonsed Special Agent Miller to meet with him.
“What Sir, what do you mean?” Grace Miller and Roger Moore had known one another for a long time, ever since the twenty-five-year-old girl joined the Agency immediately following her graduation from Oxford University, and over that time they had developed a trusting relationship.
“You know what I’m referring to Miller.” The Head of MI6 responded, turning away from his agent to move towards the window, “… and, please fasten the buttons on your shirt.”
Ekaterina Novikova had been Grace’s friend, confidante and lover helping the younger girl through her early missions. In turn Kat had shared with Grace her feelings whenever she returned following her bondage sessions with Moore. He knew that Miller knew all about Ekaterina and himself, and the fact she never sought to use that information against him, built the trust between them even more.
“You mean using my skills to break the prisoner so that you could get what you wanted from him?”
And getting an eyeful of my naked tits in the process … Words that stayed inside Grace’s head, as she eased her boss’s discomfort and fastened a few more buttons on her shirt.
“You are incorrigible Special Agent Miller, come and sit …”
With a smile she moved to the briefing table and waited for her boss to begin speaking.
“He is definitely who we think he is, and Daesh, Algerian for sure.”
“Does he know anything about Lacey’s involvement?”
Moore nodded, his tone dour. “He was working with her I’m afraid.”
“Working with her … Sir. What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, Special Agent, that Lacey Anderson, for reasons yet to be determined was working with a member of the Daesh terrorist group to plant a bomb in Whitehall.”
Grace paused, and suddenly felt very emotional. “Sir … I … no sir, I don’t believe … I can’t … she wouldn’t. But why?” The girl finished her sentence seemingly accepting that Agent Anderson could have gone rogue but failing to understand at all why she would.
“That is what we need to find out Grace, but at least in the meantime we have our bomber and, other than somehow working with Agent Anderson, it appears that he was acting alone.
Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
Within the tight confines of her new cell, it was nearly impossible to fit Lacey and the guard who had bundled her inside, particularly as the man in question was so broad, tall and muscular, though he quickly withdrew and a second man stepped in. The dim lights overhead began to flicker then settle into a rhythm, pulsating as if to an unheard beat and Agent Anderson closed her eyes against the antagonising effect, knowing that she’d be developing a headache sooner rather than later if it continued. The guard standing at her back curled a hand around Lacey’s neck and pressed downward, bidding her wordlessly to follow. She bent at the waist and used both palms to support herself by planting them on each knee.
From this new, ungainly position the naked girl could not see what was about to happen next but the stretching and opening of her anal passage inherent to this position gave her some idea.
“Please, whatever you are going …” She began to implore but her pleading was cut short with a hard slap to the back of the head.
“Shut up kahhba!”
She was not kept waiting for long.
Without lubrication and without warning, something was pushed against the tight ring of Lacey’s anus, angular but smooth, she couldn’t imagine what it was.
Not rounded or bulbous but more cuboid in shape, and way more uncomfortable than a conventional plug, which Roger Moore had used on her more than once in the recent past. The unnatural enlarging caused her asshole to pulse and burn and Lacey cried out in pain, receiving several slaps to her bottom as a warning to keep her mouth shut.
No sooner had the insertion been accomplished, the guard delved further, sliding across her perineum to the slit of her sex. The captive girl ached from the stress of this position but she dare not move. The object about to impale her pussy slid in more easily but this too was unnaturally shaped and felt extremely uncomfortable.
The young prisoner was sweating profusely, beads formed on her upper lip and brow and slid down the back of her neck then between her breasts. Panting and out of breath, Lacey realised that throughout the insertion she’d tensed her body, and was now whimpering and gasping for air in an attempt to cope with the process.
Using one hand, the guard fisted her long hair and directed her head against the cold, stone wall.
“See the circular depressions? Put your hands there.” He ordered. Lacey lifted her arms and placed each palm as directed.
“Now Stay.” He barked the command as if talking to an animal, as he pulled at chains from higher up the wall and secured manacles to the girl’s delicate wrists. Then he withdrew and Agent Anderson felt another body enter the small confine.
This one was armed with something smooth and flat that he pressed against the cheeks of her bottom. Willing herself to relax to lessen the impact and pain, for she knew what was coming next without needing to be told; the Daesh man began raining down slap after slap using the implement that hurt more with each strike. Every single blow jolted the large awkwardly shaped objects embedded inside Lacey’s body.
“You. Don’t. Let. Those. Out. Kahhba!” He spoke a word for every smack delivered.
“Yes … S … Sir,” she answered, barely recognising her own voice anymore, so weak, so pathetic, lacking the confident sardonic edge it had before.
He used his free hand to grip a fistful of blonde hair, and he pulled Lacey’s head back, stretching her neck whilst he continued to hit her ass. The guard’s hand travelled from her head around to cradle her cheek, an almost paternal action as though to comfort and for the briefest of moments Lacey took solace in that gesture.
It was short-lived, thick fingers worked into her mouth and began moving back and forth, fucking the orifice
“Suck.” He demanded, so she did, her actions lacklustre and awkward given the jerking motions of the rest of her body. By the time the paddling ceased, Lacey’s ass was on fire, even the smallest of movements to shift weight from one foot to the other caused her pain and discomfort.
Despite her best efforts not to, she cried, dribbling saliva past the fingers sliding in and out of her mouth but those too withdrew and eventually so did the guard from the tiny confined space.
“You’ll remain standing kahhba. You are not to move from that position until informed otherwise.” Lacey could hear the smirk in his voice, the sadistic edge that chilled her.
“Yes … Sir.” The sobbing response she gave lacked in volume but not in sincerity; she had no intention of moving for fear of increasing the burden of her solitary confinement.
The door slammed closed leaving her alone. She took several deep breaths to calm the sensations raging throughout her bound, naked body, and focused on the pain radiating out from her abused backside, while tentatively squeezing the necessary internal muscles to ensure the inserted objects did not fall out.
“Why?” Lacey whimpered to herself. She was confused. How had this happened? These terrorists, the Daesh, would torture and rape her and then kill her, and MI6 would be very unlikely to be looking for her. It would suit Roger Moore for her to simply disappear, given that he clearly felt she was an accomplice of these terrorists rather than a patriotic Agent trying her best to foil a bombing attempt.
Her head drooped and her eyes dropped to look at the floor-drain between her legs. This was for her to urinate into!
Lacey groaned, cringing inwardly and began to cry again, shivering with cold despite the warmth permeating the air; even the walls felt warm to touch much like the rest of this goddamned building!
To Be Continued …
Briefing Room 1 – MI6 SIS HQ, Vauxhall, London
“What the fuck did you think you were doing Miller?” Along with an interrogation specialist, Roger Moore had completed the questioning of Ahmed Al-Karhim and then returned to the Briefing Room, whereupon he had summonsed Special Agent Miller to meet with him.
“What Sir, what do you mean?” Grace Miller and Roger Moore had known one another for a long time, ever since the twenty-five-year-old girl joined the Agency immediately following her graduation from Oxford University, and over that time they had developed a trusting relationship.
“You know what I’m referring to Miller.” The Head of MI6 responded, turning away from his agent to move towards the window, “… and, please fasten the buttons on your shirt.”
Ekaterina Novikova had been Grace’s friend, confidante and lover helping the younger girl through her early missions. In turn Kat had shared with Grace her feelings whenever she returned following her bondage sessions with Moore. He knew that Miller knew all about Ekaterina and himself, and the fact she never sought to use that information against him, built the trust between them even more.
“You mean using my skills to break the prisoner so that you could get what you wanted from him?”
And getting an eyeful of my naked tits in the process … Words that stayed inside Grace’s head, as she eased her boss’s discomfort and fastened a few more buttons on her shirt.
“You are incorrigible Special Agent Miller, come and sit …”
With a smile she moved to the briefing table and waited for her boss to begin speaking.
“He is definitely who we think he is, and Daesh, Algerian for sure.”
“Does he know anything about Lacey’s involvement?”
Moore nodded, his tone dour. “He was working with her I’m afraid.”
“Working with her … Sir. What the fuck does that mean?”
“It means, Special Agent, that Lacey Anderson, for reasons yet to be determined was working with a member of the Daesh terrorist group to plant a bomb in Whitehall.”
Grace paused, and suddenly felt very emotional. “Sir … I … no sir, I don’t believe … I can’t … she wouldn’t. But why?” The girl finished her sentence seemingly accepting that Agent Anderson could have gone rogue but failing to understand at all why she would.
“That is what we need to find out Grace, but at least in the meantime we have our bomber and, other than somehow working with Agent Anderson, it appears that he was acting alone.
Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
Within the tight confines of her new cell, it was nearly impossible to fit Lacey and the guard who had bundled her inside, particularly as the man in question was so broad, tall and muscular, though he quickly withdrew and a second man stepped in. The dim lights overhead began to flicker then settle into a rhythm, pulsating as if to an unheard beat and Agent Anderson closed her eyes against the antagonising effect, knowing that she’d be developing a headache sooner rather than later if it continued. The guard standing at her back curled a hand around Lacey’s neck and pressed downward, bidding her wordlessly to follow. She bent at the waist and used both palms to support herself by planting them on each knee.
From this new, ungainly position the naked girl could not see what was about to happen next but the stretching and opening of her anal passage inherent to this position gave her some idea.
“Please, whatever you are going …” She began to implore but her pleading was cut short with a hard slap to the back of the head.
“Shut up kahhba!”
She was not kept waiting for long.
Without lubrication and without warning, something was pushed against the tight ring of Lacey’s anus, angular but smooth, she couldn’t imagine what it was.
Not rounded or bulbous but more cuboid in shape, and way more uncomfortable than a conventional plug, which Roger Moore had used on her more than once in the recent past. The unnatural enlarging caused her asshole to pulse and burn and Lacey cried out in pain, receiving several slaps to her bottom as a warning to keep her mouth shut.
No sooner had the insertion been accomplished, the guard delved further, sliding across her perineum to the slit of her sex. The captive girl ached from the stress of this position but she dare not move. The object about to impale her pussy slid in more easily but this too was unnaturally shaped and felt extremely uncomfortable.
The young prisoner was sweating profusely, beads formed on her upper lip and brow and slid down the back of her neck then between her breasts. Panting and out of breath, Lacey realised that throughout the insertion she’d tensed her body, and was now whimpering and gasping for air in an attempt to cope with the process.
Using one hand, the guard fisted her long hair and directed her head against the cold, stone wall.
“See the circular depressions? Put your hands there.” He ordered. Lacey lifted her arms and placed each palm as directed.
“Now Stay.” He barked the command as if talking to an animal, as he pulled at chains from higher up the wall and secured manacles to the girl’s delicate wrists. Then he withdrew and Agent Anderson felt another body enter the small confine.
This one was armed with something smooth and flat that he pressed against the cheeks of her bottom. Willing herself to relax to lessen the impact and pain, for she knew what was coming next without needing to be told; the Daesh man began raining down slap after slap using the implement that hurt more with each strike. Every single blow jolted the large awkwardly shaped objects embedded inside Lacey’s body.
“You. Don’t. Let. Those. Out. Kahhba!” He spoke a word for every smack delivered.
“Yes … S … Sir,” she answered, barely recognising her own voice anymore, so weak, so pathetic, lacking the confident sardonic edge it had before.
He used his free hand to grip a fistful of blonde hair, and he pulled Lacey’s head back, stretching her neck whilst he continued to hit her ass. The guard’s hand travelled from her head around to cradle her cheek, an almost paternal action as though to comfort and for the briefest of moments Lacey took solace in that gesture.
It was short-lived, thick fingers worked into her mouth and began moving back and forth, fucking the orifice
“Suck.” He demanded, so she did, her actions lacklustre and awkward given the jerking motions of the rest of her body. By the time the paddling ceased, Lacey’s ass was on fire, even the smallest of movements to shift weight from one foot to the other caused her pain and discomfort.
Despite her best efforts not to, she cried, dribbling saliva past the fingers sliding in and out of her mouth but those too withdrew and eventually so did the guard from the tiny confined space.
“You’ll remain standing kahhba. You are not to move from that position until informed otherwise.” Lacey could hear the smirk in his voice, the sadistic edge that chilled her.
“Yes … Sir.” The sobbing response she gave lacked in volume but not in sincerity; she had no intention of moving for fear of increasing the burden of her solitary confinement.
The door slammed closed leaving her alone. She took several deep breaths to calm the sensations raging throughout her bound, naked body, and focused on the pain radiating out from her abused backside, while tentatively squeezing the necessary internal muscles to ensure the inserted objects did not fall out.
“Why?” Lacey whimpered to herself. She was confused. How had this happened? These terrorists, the Daesh, would torture and rape her and then kill her, and MI6 would be very unlikely to be looking for her. It would suit Roger Moore for her to simply disappear, given that he clearly felt she was an accomplice of these terrorists rather than a patriotic Agent trying her best to foil a bombing attempt.
Her head drooped and her eyes dropped to look at the floor-drain between her legs. This was for her to urinate into!
Lacey groaned, cringing inwardly and began to cry again, shivering with cold despite the warmth permeating the air; even the walls felt warm to touch much like the rest of this goddamned building!
To Be Continued …
twonines
LIMERICUS
But not yet?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Like you say 99 it must be an unwritten part of his policy ... and long my that be rhe case
Sharkman
Governor
Oh, oh ... Dino Moore is thinking more of a happy life with her new Arabic friends. Isn't it a happy life ... this only Lacey can decide. What is bad about an exploring 'Goldfinger (1964)'?
OH NO!!!! Say it isn’t so!!!!
But you’re in such a lovely predicament? Can’t we please savour that a little longer, at least until after the electrodes are activated?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Hard Time (3)
Barn Owl Cottage, on the edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
Walking over to the opened wine bottle, Jason poured their drinks.
"This isn't all about me, Grace, it’s about you as well, both of us …”
“I know Jase this place, it’s beautiful but it’s …”
“Kat’s?”
Grace nodded slowly, reluctant to admit that her recently acquired lover was right.
“Oh Grace, I loved her as much as you did, but we have to …”
“Move on?” The girl now finished his sentence.
“Yes, if that’s how you want to put it. We have to move on, which doesn’t mean forgetting Ekaterina or what she meant to us, both of us. But we have to …”
"Okay, I get it Jase, I do, but still …” Grace said with a shallow smile while raising her glass as if to toast the moment of understanding. They both stared out over the breath-taking view of the New Forest right outside their doorstep.
"Kat would want this, you know she would. You and me …”
“But there’s Issy and Jack, Jason … we need to be …”
Jason had his kids to stay whenever the job allowed, Jack who was now fifteen and beautiful little eleven-year-old Issy. Steph, his ex-wife, after being filled with anger and the need for revenge when her husband first left her for Ekaterina, had slowly come around and she had been particularly supportive when Jase lost Kat. The acrimony had developed into something more amicable which had worked really well for the kids. Steph now had a new partner too and all was well between them.
“… they’ll love you Grace, how could they not.”
Grace heard Jason’s words but she just stared until he spoke again, breaking her contemplation.
"Hi," he stated in an attempt to get his girlfriend’s attention while brushing a lock of dark hair from her face.
"Hi," Grace replied absentmindedly, looking up into his eyes. "Will you just hold me … please?" She asked.
Jason took her hand and moved them both to the couch before pulling her into him.
After a moment Grace whispered a meek apology, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" he inquired.
"Spoiling the mood, questioning … everything, I should learn to shut up and just enjoy the special times we have."
They continued to sit, together, as one, simply savouring the moment.
"So, tell me about this thing with Agent Anderson,” Jason finally said, aware that it was he who was now breaking the moment, but unable to stop himself.
“That’s so romantic …” Grace chuckled, extricating herself form his hold. With a furrowed brow Special Agent Miller sighed.
“We have the Whitehall bomber in custody …” She said nothing about her involvement in the interrogation process, “… and he admitted everything, but also named Lacey as his partner.”
“Partner?”
“That’s what he said, though I just can’t believe that she would have turned rogue. I mean why would she?”
“But you don’t really know her Grace, and you did say that she felt somehow undermined when she was used as bait in Stockholm recently.”
“God yes, I’d forgotten about that,” the girl chewed on her lip whilst letting that thought percolate, then added, “… but still Jase, I just can’t believe it. We need to find her so that we can prove what did and did not happen.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Grace shook her head. “Nope, not for certain. She has no GPS tracking, no phone or tablet with her, and she seemed to simply disappear when the Agency chased her down in the woods surrounding Fort Monckton … my guess is that she’s been taken out of the country and is most probably being held somewhere in Algeria.”
“Fuck …” Jase whispered to himself.
“Fuck is the right word,” Grace added.
Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
After some time had passed, Lacey began to ache from holding her excruciating standing position. Small movements in each limb stopped her body from seizing up, but eventually, her movements slowed and not long after, the door slid open. Lacey didn’t dare to look back to see who had arrived, keeping her head low, bowed between her outstretched arms, eyes fixed to a point on the wall in front.
The newly arrived male hands worked over her body slowly as though searching for something, a perfunctory groping that ran from her scalp all the way to her calves, as if to validate that she was still in one whole piece. Nails grazed the girl’s tenderised flesh, pinching and grazing, thick fingers prized apart her ass cheeks and a gruff voice demanded, “Push them out kahhba.”
Assuming he meant the objects inserted within her, Lacey made a concerted effort to try and control their expulsion, not wanting to inadvertently harm herself in the process.
“Fuckkkk!” The poor girl groaned as she attempted to push the object upon which she was impaled out of her anus. The sensation was less painful than when they were implanted, and she lowered her head further wanting to see what it was they’d used to penetrate her body
But she wasn’t to be given that opportunity because before the items could drop, they were unceremoniously pulled from both holes simultaneously, eliciting a long groan of pain, mixed with relief from her lips and handed off to someone nearby who backed away without a word.
Lacey’s legs wobbled threatening to buckle, so with a small grunt, she locked each knee to ensure that she remained upright and arched her spine. Another guard appeared and she could see something in her periphery vision … two more shapes, more men perhaps, just outside the small cell, with low murmuring voices discussing something that she could not understand.
A body entered into her space, and without hesitation, a thick hard cock was pushed into Lacey’s asshole, filling the newly stretched and vacated aperture and eliciting from the bound girl a near inhuman groan of pain.
“Ohhhhhhhh fuck, please … no …”
Above the sound of flesh thrusting into flesh, the young agent was able to hear the voices of whoever waited in line; nothing discernible, but a steady flow of hushed conversation that appeared even to her ears to bubble with excitement.
Half turning her head she could see men, Daesh guards, naked from the waist down stroking their erections and as the one buried in her ass completed his task, filling the tight hole with ejaculate, he pulled out taking with him a string of cum only to be swiftly replaced by another, equally as endowed.
A fresh layer of perspiration saturated her body as copious amounts of juice ran in rivulets down her thighs: a combination of male semen and her own moisture. The current incumbent scraped his nails across Lacey’s already reddened ass, scoring marks, a set of crisscrossed lines over the already abused flesh to leave it mottled and burning. He did all of this while fondling one of her breasts with his free hand and maintaining a fast and furious hip rhythm that built to a more frenzied crescendo before he too finished, unloading deep within her bowels.
“Please, I need …”
Laughter followed her pleading words as another erection opened her up, and then one after the other they entered, fucked her increasingly stretched and saturated asshole, before withdrawing, leaving Lacey humiliated, degraded, frustrated, unfulfilled and increasingly exhausted.
She ached from head to toe; sore nipples, pained shoulders, the agony of her bowed spine and the angst of been repeatedly ass-raped. The final guard thrust repeatedly in a frenetic and uncoordinated fashion leading the captive girl to believe that watching the others had already almost taken him over the edge …
She was not wrong, within moments he stiffened, thrust and pumped his creamy load deep into her contracting asshole, then he withdrew, landing a few slaps on her abused buttocks for good measure. As he left, he unfastened the hand manacles, before pausing to press something on the outside wall, then murmured, “… You can lie down now kahhba. When the hoses start though, best get washed and use the toilet.”
As Lacey crumpled to the cold, hard floor, he chuckled, a malevolent sound that the hapless girl heard all too clearly as the door slid shut.
To Be Continued …
Barn Owl Cottage, on the edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
Walking over to the opened wine bottle, Jason poured their drinks.
"This isn't all about me, Grace, it’s about you as well, both of us …”
“I know Jase this place, it’s beautiful but it’s …”
“Kat’s?”
Grace nodded slowly, reluctant to admit that her recently acquired lover was right.
“Oh Grace, I loved her as much as you did, but we have to …”
“Move on?” The girl now finished his sentence.
“Yes, if that’s how you want to put it. We have to move on, which doesn’t mean forgetting Ekaterina or what she meant to us, both of us. But we have to …”
"Okay, I get it Jase, I do, but still …” Grace said with a shallow smile while raising her glass as if to toast the moment of understanding. They both stared out over the breath-taking view of the New Forest right outside their doorstep.
"Kat would want this, you know she would. You and me …”
“But there’s Issy and Jack, Jason … we need to be …”
Jason had his kids to stay whenever the job allowed, Jack who was now fifteen and beautiful little eleven-year-old Issy. Steph, his ex-wife, after being filled with anger and the need for revenge when her husband first left her for Ekaterina, had slowly come around and she had been particularly supportive when Jase lost Kat. The acrimony had developed into something more amicable which had worked really well for the kids. Steph now had a new partner too and all was well between them.
“… they’ll love you Grace, how could they not.”
Grace heard Jason’s words but she just stared until he spoke again, breaking her contemplation.
"Hi," he stated in an attempt to get his girlfriend’s attention while brushing a lock of dark hair from her face.
"Hi," Grace replied absentmindedly, looking up into his eyes. "Will you just hold me … please?" She asked.
Jason took her hand and moved them both to the couch before pulling her into him.
After a moment Grace whispered a meek apology, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" he inquired.
"Spoiling the mood, questioning … everything, I should learn to shut up and just enjoy the special times we have."
They continued to sit, together, as one, simply savouring the moment.
"So, tell me about this thing with Agent Anderson,” Jason finally said, aware that it was he who was now breaking the moment, but unable to stop himself.
“That’s so romantic …” Grace chuckled, extricating herself form his hold. With a furrowed brow Special Agent Miller sighed.
“We have the Whitehall bomber in custody …” She said nothing about her involvement in the interrogation process, “… and he admitted everything, but also named Lacey as his partner.”
“Partner?”
“That’s what he said, though I just can’t believe that she would have turned rogue. I mean why would she?”
“But you don’t really know her Grace, and you did say that she felt somehow undermined when she was used as bait in Stockholm recently.”
“God yes, I’d forgotten about that,” the girl chewed on her lip whilst letting that thought percolate, then added, “… but still Jase, I just can’t believe it. We need to find her so that we can prove what did and did not happen.”
“Do you know where she is?”
Grace shook her head. “Nope, not for certain. She has no GPS tracking, no phone or tablet with her, and she seemed to simply disappear when the Agency chased her down in the woods surrounding Fort Monckton … my guess is that she’s been taken out of the country and is most probably being held somewhere in Algeria.”
“Fuck …” Jase whispered to himself.
“Fuck is the right word,” Grace added.
Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
After some time had passed, Lacey began to ache from holding her excruciating standing position. Small movements in each limb stopped her body from seizing up, but eventually, her movements slowed and not long after, the door slid open. Lacey didn’t dare to look back to see who had arrived, keeping her head low, bowed between her outstretched arms, eyes fixed to a point on the wall in front.
The newly arrived male hands worked over her body slowly as though searching for something, a perfunctory groping that ran from her scalp all the way to her calves, as if to validate that she was still in one whole piece. Nails grazed the girl’s tenderised flesh, pinching and grazing, thick fingers prized apart her ass cheeks and a gruff voice demanded, “Push them out kahhba.”
Assuming he meant the objects inserted within her, Lacey made a concerted effort to try and control their expulsion, not wanting to inadvertently harm herself in the process.
“Fuckkkk!” The poor girl groaned as she attempted to push the object upon which she was impaled out of her anus. The sensation was less painful than when they were implanted, and she lowered her head further wanting to see what it was they’d used to penetrate her body
But she wasn’t to be given that opportunity because before the items could drop, they were unceremoniously pulled from both holes simultaneously, eliciting a long groan of pain, mixed with relief from her lips and handed off to someone nearby who backed away without a word.
Lacey’s legs wobbled threatening to buckle, so with a small grunt, she locked each knee to ensure that she remained upright and arched her spine. Another guard appeared and she could see something in her periphery vision … two more shapes, more men perhaps, just outside the small cell, with low murmuring voices discussing something that she could not understand.
A body entered into her space, and without hesitation, a thick hard cock was pushed into Lacey’s asshole, filling the newly stretched and vacated aperture and eliciting from the bound girl a near inhuman groan of pain.
“Ohhhhhhhh fuck, please … no …”
Above the sound of flesh thrusting into flesh, the young agent was able to hear the voices of whoever waited in line; nothing discernible, but a steady flow of hushed conversation that appeared even to her ears to bubble with excitement.
Half turning her head she could see men, Daesh guards, naked from the waist down stroking their erections and as the one buried in her ass completed his task, filling the tight hole with ejaculate, he pulled out taking with him a string of cum only to be swiftly replaced by another, equally as endowed.
A fresh layer of perspiration saturated her body as copious amounts of juice ran in rivulets down her thighs: a combination of male semen and her own moisture. The current incumbent scraped his nails across Lacey’s already reddened ass, scoring marks, a set of crisscrossed lines over the already abused flesh to leave it mottled and burning. He did all of this while fondling one of her breasts with his free hand and maintaining a fast and furious hip rhythm that built to a more frenzied crescendo before he too finished, unloading deep within her bowels.
“Please, I need …”
Laughter followed her pleading words as another erection opened her up, and then one after the other they entered, fucked her increasingly stretched and saturated asshole, before withdrawing, leaving Lacey humiliated, degraded, frustrated, unfulfilled and increasingly exhausted.
She ached from head to toe; sore nipples, pained shoulders, the agony of her bowed spine and the angst of been repeatedly ass-raped. The final guard thrust repeatedly in a frenetic and uncoordinated fashion leading the captive girl to believe that watching the others had already almost taken him over the edge …
She was not wrong, within moments he stiffened, thrust and pumped his creamy load deep into her contracting asshole, then he withdrew, landing a few slaps on her abused buttocks for good measure. As he left, he unfastened the hand manacles, before pausing to press something on the outside wall, then murmured, “… You can lie down now kahhba. When the hoses start though, best get washed and use the toilet.”
As Lacey crumpled to the cold, hard floor, he chuckled, a malevolent sound that the hapless girl heard all too clearly as the door slid shut.
To Be Continued …
Sharkman
Governor
Oh Lacey, wouldn't it be equaliy better to stay 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969)'?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Hard Time (4)
Barn Owl Cottage, on the edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
“We laid her next to him beneath the willow, while the angels sang a whiskey lullaby."
Brad Paisley sang his mournful lyrics out of Jason’s Spotify App as the comfortable couple snuggled up on the couch at Barn Owl Cottage.
Grace spoke to the theme of the song, "I want to be your whiskey Jase, to be your drink that helps you forget. I want you to be my wine; I don't want to remember either. I wish we had met at another time … maybe another life," she wistfully sighed, unable to cast Kat far from her thoughts whenever she was with Jason.
"I, I've been gone; been gone too long, singing my songs on the road. Another town, one more show…," the music continued.
Placing his hand underneath Grace’s chin, Jason brought her lips up to meet his. He kissed her gently but he wanted more … needed more.
He loved this girl, and she had become one of his closest friends and allies as they helped one another through life in the twelve months since Ekaterina’s death. Holding to the beat of the song, she began to unbutton his shirt, her soft lips kissing his neck and exposed chest. He moved his hand to her top and, trying not to disturb her undressing of him, he pulled it over her head and off to expose her lace underwear.
With a smile, she stood and, pulling down the zipper on her jeans, Grace wriggled free of the denim.
Wow … Jason momentarily forgot to breathe.
It was now Grace who took the lead, swaying backwards away from him, allowing him to see all of her … sensual curves set off perfectly by the brief the lacy garments hugging them.
They eagerly moved to the bedroom … the sensation of her body touching his was electric as he pressed against her. His senses were heightened and challenged everything in him to carefully slide off those lace panties and unclasp that bra without devouring every inch of her. He couldn’t resist kissing her newly exposed nipples and breasts, trailing kisses down and over her abdomen as she gently pushed him back against the bed.
Jason closed his eyes as his lover pulled him closer; feeling her breath falling on his neck, in his ear, again it took all he had not to just throw her down and fuck her there and then. Grace’s lips gently grazed his jaw-line and eyelids, sensually brushing his mouth as she kissed his neck and shoulders, slowly moving down over his chest and biceps, showering soft kisses as she ventured.
This was way more than simply fucking … they were making beautiful love!
Her soft hands caressed every inch of his skin as she moved more ever more downwards, increasing the most exquisite sensations by licking his nipples and abdomen. Jase moaned quietly, responding to her warm breath … her tongue, her skilled touch. She was devouring him and very clearly enjoying the pleasure of it.
He was now a willing slave, she his master … Her right hand moved further down, gently skimming along his inner thighs. Jason caught his breath as knowing fingers glided along the base of his stiff cock, grasping it tightly by the shaft, then moving ever so slowly to the tip.
"You like it when I touch you here?" She whispered, lightly licking along the full length as if to drive her point home. Unable to respond, her lover exhaled, allowing his body language to affirm her question.
Parting her sweet lips, Grace pulled him into her mouth, lingering as she massaged and hungrily sucked until he could take no more. Exchanging roles, Jason lightly brushed her skin, moving his hand along her thigh, savouring the trembling warmth. Arching her back, she pressed her chest into his. She was smooth, like satin.
He returned her to the bed, carefully tracing the contours of her body with his fingers and then lower, between her thighs. Grace caught her breath and tensed as his touch brushed across her labia, toying with the moisture that had already pooled there ...
And then once more, shifting position, she took control …
Straddling his body, with her back facing him in reverse cowgirl position, reaching behind, she grabbed his cock with her right hand, and guided it into her welcoming heat.
"Fuck, Grace … oh fuck, yes," he gasped aloud as she took him in, "Fuck!" He repeated as she began a rhythmic tempo while riding him, grinding circles … first slowly, then faster. Resting both of her hands on her ass from behind, she continued to gyrate fucking herself on his solid erection.
As she increased the speed of her motion, her pussy tightening with contractions around his shaft, Grace’s moaning and whimpering fell into cadence with the movements of her body. Then, without warning, as the erotic drumbeat became too much, she suddenly climaxed, falling slowly to her side, his arm on her shoulder Jason lowered Grace to the bed.
They had managed to forget about the outside world just for a little while, but that was an oasis of peace that would not last for long.
Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
After the soaking from the water jets, during which Lacey had taken the advice offered to her and emptied her bladder, she had been hauled back to her feet and re-manacled to the wall, then left to stand, naked and wet.
Soon the chained young Agent had started to shake uncontrollably, both from the cold and the pain in her stretched arms. Then, as if they had been waiting for that to happen … were they actually watching her in this small shit-hole … the door was opened and, at a word from one of the guards, a camera was raised behind the naked agent and Lacey was filmed for a short while, before the senior guard gave another command.
“Yakfi faqat, la 'akthar.” (“Just enough, no more.”)
To Be Continued …
Barn Owl Cottage, on the edge of the New Forest, Hampshire, England.
“We laid her next to him beneath the willow, while the angels sang a whiskey lullaby."
Brad Paisley sang his mournful lyrics out of Jason’s Spotify App as the comfortable couple snuggled up on the couch at Barn Owl Cottage.
Grace spoke to the theme of the song, "I want to be your whiskey Jase, to be your drink that helps you forget. I want you to be my wine; I don't want to remember either. I wish we had met at another time … maybe another life," she wistfully sighed, unable to cast Kat far from her thoughts whenever she was with Jason.
"I, I've been gone; been gone too long, singing my songs on the road. Another town, one more show…," the music continued.
Placing his hand underneath Grace’s chin, Jason brought her lips up to meet his. He kissed her gently but he wanted more … needed more.
He loved this girl, and she had become one of his closest friends and allies as they helped one another through life in the twelve months since Ekaterina’s death. Holding to the beat of the song, she began to unbutton his shirt, her soft lips kissing his neck and exposed chest. He moved his hand to her top and, trying not to disturb her undressing of him, he pulled it over her head and off to expose her lace underwear.
With a smile, she stood and, pulling down the zipper on her jeans, Grace wriggled free of the denim.
Wow … Jason momentarily forgot to breathe.
It was now Grace who took the lead, swaying backwards away from him, allowing him to see all of her … sensual curves set off perfectly by the brief the lacy garments hugging them.
They eagerly moved to the bedroom … the sensation of her body touching his was electric as he pressed against her. His senses were heightened and challenged everything in him to carefully slide off those lace panties and unclasp that bra without devouring every inch of her. He couldn’t resist kissing her newly exposed nipples and breasts, trailing kisses down and over her abdomen as she gently pushed him back against the bed.
Jason closed his eyes as his lover pulled him closer; feeling her breath falling on his neck, in his ear, again it took all he had not to just throw her down and fuck her there and then. Grace’s lips gently grazed his jaw-line and eyelids, sensually brushing his mouth as she kissed his neck and shoulders, slowly moving down over his chest and biceps, showering soft kisses as she ventured.
This was way more than simply fucking … they were making beautiful love!
Her soft hands caressed every inch of his skin as she moved more ever more downwards, increasing the most exquisite sensations by licking his nipples and abdomen. Jase moaned quietly, responding to her warm breath … her tongue, her skilled touch. She was devouring him and very clearly enjoying the pleasure of it.
He was now a willing slave, she his master … Her right hand moved further down, gently skimming along his inner thighs. Jason caught his breath as knowing fingers glided along the base of his stiff cock, grasping it tightly by the shaft, then moving ever so slowly to the tip.
"You like it when I touch you here?" She whispered, lightly licking along the full length as if to drive her point home. Unable to respond, her lover exhaled, allowing his body language to affirm her question.
Parting her sweet lips, Grace pulled him into her mouth, lingering as she massaged and hungrily sucked until he could take no more. Exchanging roles, Jason lightly brushed her skin, moving his hand along her thigh, savouring the trembling warmth. Arching her back, she pressed her chest into his. She was smooth, like satin.
He returned her to the bed, carefully tracing the contours of her body with his fingers and then lower, between her thighs. Grace caught her breath and tensed as his touch brushed across her labia, toying with the moisture that had already pooled there ...
And then once more, shifting position, she took control …
Straddling his body, with her back facing him in reverse cowgirl position, reaching behind, she grabbed his cock with her right hand, and guided it into her welcoming heat.
"Fuck, Grace … oh fuck, yes," he gasped aloud as she took him in, "Fuck!" He repeated as she began a rhythmic tempo while riding him, grinding circles … first slowly, then faster. Resting both of her hands on her ass from behind, she continued to gyrate fucking herself on his solid erection.
As she increased the speed of her motion, her pussy tightening with contractions around his shaft, Grace’s moaning and whimpering fell into cadence with the movements of her body. Then, without warning, as the erotic drumbeat became too much, she suddenly climaxed, falling slowly to her side, his arm on her shoulder Jason lowered Grace to the bed.
They had managed to forget about the outside world just for a little while, but that was an oasis of peace that would not last for long.
Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
After the soaking from the water jets, during which Lacey had taken the advice offered to her and emptied her bladder, she had been hauled back to her feet and re-manacled to the wall, then left to stand, naked and wet.
Soon the chained young Agent had started to shake uncontrollably, both from the cold and the pain in her stretched arms. Then, as if they had been waiting for that to happen … were they actually watching her in this small shit-hole … the door was opened and, at a word from one of the guards, a camera was raised behind the naked agent and Lacey was filmed for a short while, before the senior guard gave another command.
“Yakfi faqat, la 'akthar.” (“Just enough, no more.”)
To Be Continued …
Sharkman
Governor
That is something I know ... momentarily is O.K.
Last edited:
Sharkman
Governor
And this is something I can imagine ... momentarily now.