An Inquisitive Federal Agent

An Inquisitive Federal Agent

East Coast Slaver Organization Story - XII

Chapter 09 – Unsuitable Prey (or Another Volunteer?)

Aaron Clarke prided himself on his ability to be calm and collected under pressure. In fact, he thrived on the stress created by his current occupation. The reason he felt he had the greatest job on earth was the adrenaline rush from the risk and uncertainty involved while he stood to gain so much. Today's operation was a good example. The first prize was Gloria, a cheating, whoring cunt who controlled a real estate firm's escrow account. He had very definite ideas on what to do with her after her capture and enslavement. The cunt was in for a rough, and humiliating, time. The funds she had stolen from him were actually the second prize; although given his wealth, the three hundred and fifty thousand dollars at risk was chump change. Aaron was certain that he'd recovered more than he'd lost when he found the duffle bag full of money in her trunk. Clearly, Gloria was on the run. Aaron was certain that she'd only left her purse and money in the car while she ran upstairs to get her packed bags.

What Aaron didn't know was that Gloria Waters had forgotten that the movers were already at her condominium, slowing down her now desperate attempt to escape from her cheating lover with her stolen funds. At the same time, Aaron hadn't planned on the two thugs that had beaten him to the punch by getting to Gloria first. Too stubborn to end the operation, he had been stoically waiting in his car for well over an hour since the two thugs had gone into Gloria Waters' condominium. To keep himself busy, he had amused himself first by going through Gloria's purse and then by rummaging through her business satchel.

The purse was full of crap, exactly what he figured a pretty redhead businesswoman to carry. It was a disorganized mess of ATM receipts, sales receipts, a few feminine products, a cell phone, and the makeup and other shit women lug about with them. The only things of interest in her purse were a box of condoms, her billfold, her extra set of car and house keys, and the presence of two safety deposit box keys. The condoms surprised Aaron, he'd been sure that the cunt was letting her lover take her bareback, without protection.

The satchel told another story about Gloria's life. It was neat and organized. Even Aaron, a stranger to Gloria's work life, instantly figured out what she had been doing just before he nabbed her. “The bitch just ripped off her lover, the money launderer,” he'd muttered, amazed at the dollar amounts detailed in her neat printing on the last-used yellow sheet in her legal pad. “She's got sixteen point eight million and change in an offshore account and I've got the account info, login steps, and passwords. Gloria, thank you for trying to steal my three hundred and fifty thou. Whatta payback!” The printed sheets Gloria had kept outlined the millions of dollars that had flowed through the escrow accounts she controlled. Aaron had no idea that the two hadn't been partners in the money-laundering scheme, he only knew that a lot of money rolled through the account.

As soon as Aaron realized the stakes in the game, he'd started up his little Mercedes Roadster and pulled away from Gloria's car and the killer's van, to a spot he hoped was inconspicuously far enough away from both vehicles. He kept an eye trained on the condominium entrance while he shrugged his coveralls down off his shoulder. Normally, he didn't use ballistic protection, hoping that a good plan could negate the need for gunplay. “This scene might get dicey,” he told himself as he slipped his arms back into his coveralls. Aaron also dug out the silencer for his nine millimeter and screwed it on. Better prepared, he turned his attention back to Gloria's notes. The last entry in the pad was a hastily sprawled note about the cash in Alexander Warren's safety deposit box. “The little minx stole his box key and ripped off his cash as well.” According to Gloria's notes, the heavy black duffle bag now in his trunk held three hundred neat stacks of one hundred dollar bills. Aaron did the math in his head, “Each bundle is $10,000, times three hundred bundles, … whoa! That's an even three million dollars. Yes, Gloria! Way to go!”

As far as Aaron was concerned, he could leave at any time and be way ahead. “Even if the thugs only lightly roughed up the thieving harlot,” he thought, “I'd have the money and she is in deep shit. I can leave now.” He was kidding himself. Aaron Clarke, slaver and self-professed man of high ethical standards, would never rest until he personally confronted the woman that tried to rip him off. It was the way his psyche was wired, Aaron just had to go back upstairs to see what happened to his bitch.

Finally, almost two hours after entering Gloria's apartment, the two men stepped back into the parking garage. Now dressed neatly in expensive business suits and each carrying a small black nylon gym bag, the men were virtually unrecognizable as the same two poorly dressed workmen who'd entered Gloria's condominium. The smaller man kept a careful watch around the parking garage and the bigger man strode confidently toward Gloria's car and unlocked the driver's door, using the key's he'd stolen. Aaron enjoyed the way the blonde giant's actions became animated and wild when he found nothing in the cabin of the car. “Fuckers,” Aaron muttered, “I hope this screws you guys with your boss as well. Good riddance.” The trunk door popped open and the man hurriedly ran around to check it out. The large man yelled something at his partner who ran at the larger man and threw his gym bag at him before he turned and ran back to the condominium garage entry. The much larger, blonde giant headed back to their van with both bags shrugged under one shoulder while he fumbled for the van keys.

Aaron had taken advantage of the hurried departure of The Ferret to slip unnoticed out of his car and glide over to the left rear of the van. At that point, the blocky shape of the box-body van blocked the condominium entrance and Aaron had a clear view of The Refrigerator as he struggled with the key and the gym bags. he squatted down and leaned against the van to steady himself.

Something alerted the killer, he only had time for a frantic look up at Aaron standing at the rear of the van before the blonde's face formed a final ‘O' of surprise. Then, he slumped limply down to the pavement after three coughing bursts from the silenced nine-millimeter sent three one-hundred-forty-seven grain slugs tearing into the man's barrel-like chest. The red blossoming stains on his chest confirmed that the huge killer had not worn ballistic protection. “The killer never expects to be a target himself,” Aaron told himself. “That's the way it usually is, especially with life-long bullies.”

Aaron grinned at the effectiveness of his weapon. “And so many chumps complain that a nine-millimeter slug has no stopping power,” he muttered to the dead thug. “After all, … it does help if you can shoot, … and I try not to miss.” He glanced in the rear of the van and saw that it was nearly empty except for a grimy comforter. It took some huffing and puffing for the strong slaver to maneuver the heavy body to a position behind the driver's seat where the comforter could cover it. The floor held a series of steel rings, some already fitted with half-inch-wide nylon straps and tensioning ‘D' rings. Aaron peeked at the contents of each of the gym bags. In addition to the men's gray coveralls, one held a still bloody leather strop that looked like it could do real damage. The last bag held even more capture and torture paraphernalia. Most interesting, it held a high-end digital camera. Aaron turned on the power and scrolled through the last couple of pictures. It was enough to make his blood boil in anger. “It's enough,” he told himself grimly, “it proves that he deserved to die. By the way his partner took off upstairs, Gloria might still be alive, …barely though, I'm sure. Better hurry.”

As the service elevator took him once again toward the eleventh floor, Aaron checked the most important items of his gear. He still wore the clean, but worn, blue coveralls with his name, Robert, emblazoned on his chest and the ballistic vest was well hidden under the loose-fitting coveralls. The cargo pouch on his left leg held a taser and the pouch in his right leg held his nine-millimeter with a new magazine clip and the silencer. His regular pockets held an assortment of binding rope, handcuffs, and a spare ballgag. A small tool bag was slung over his shoulder, resting easily on his back, well out of the way of his hands. Unlike the dead killer, Aaron did not intent to get caught unprepared with his hands full of useless crap.

Aaron ducked into the sheltered vestibule outside Gloria's condominium and carefully slid her spare door key into the keyhole. His gun was drawn and held in a ready position even as his left hand eased the door shut behind him. The faint thumps of flesh striking flesh and the soft curses of the thin thug alerted Aaron of everyone's location in the condo and made the potential rescue of Gloria that much easier. Aaron slipped smoothly to the carpet just prior to the open door to the master bedroom and low-crawled into her room, gun at a ready position. The room glowed with an eerie light from a bank of candles flickering on her nightstand. The killer had discarded his jacket on her mussed bed and he was clearly in sight beside the tub, kneeling toward an upside down Gloria who no longer even looked human.

When Aaron was halfway to the bathroom, the killer looked over his shoulder toward the gun pointed directly at him. He lurched wildly away from Gloria and fell backward over the toilet, his arms flailing out of control as he tried to get to the holstered gun below his left shoulder. The second enforcer for the drug dealers had met his own killer. Aaron coolly squeezed the trigger six times, hitting the scar-faced man four times in the center of his chest and then twice in his forehead. The silencer slowed the medium-weight rounds enough that the killer was thrown back against the wall, ending up resting on the toilet, with all six slugs remained in the corpse.

When the ex-military slaver saw Gloria's close up, he blanched and any thoughts of his long-delayed victory fuck vanished in an instant. Her condition was worse than anything he'd expected. He had to pause and take in the entire scene. “It looks like this could be boobytrapped,” he thought. The battery-operated timers, the valve assemblies, plastic jugs, the fuel can, and the complicated array of hoses made him wary. He backed into the bedroom and sat down on a chair to strip off boots, socks, coveralls, and underwear. The heavy ballistic vest landed with a thump atop his clothing. Naked, he padded back into the bathroom with his trusty Gerber general-purpose tool at the ready while he studied the setup. The four battery-operated times had their sunshields down, covering the settings of the digital timers. The countdown clock perched above her pussy told him nothing except that it showed forty-five minutes.

“The nipple ropes are first,” he thought as he gingerly clipped the thick nylon fishing line with the wire clippers on the tool. The blood-crusted nipples topped black and purple tits that had once been lusciously round and appealing. Aaron next clipped the fishing line that held Gloria's tortured tongue outstretched by inches. The swollen tongue remained hanging partially out of her mouth. It took four difficult cuts to halve the heavy-weight fishing hooks that pierced tongue, breasts, and cunt lips; he threw the discarded pieces of steel aside onto the tile floor where they skittered toward the spreading pool of blood draining from the corpse on the toilet. Aaron's next task was to pull the bloody skewer out of her cheek and remove the dildo-like device from her mouth. When he saw the weep-hole at the end of the drain plug, Aaron understood what the men had intended for part of Gloria's fate. Within a few minutes, Gloria's comatose form was once again on her bed, ankles held loosely by nylon restraining cuffs and wrists comfortably crossed and restrained on her belly by another set of the disposable cuffs. The implements removed from Gloria's body were strewn across the bathroom floor.

Gloria was breathing erratically, but her airways were clear and her color was already slightly improved. Aaron unraveled the nylon rope that had been wrapped tightly around her fat tits. The individual wraps had cut deeply into the soft flesh and left the tender mounds grossly swollen and discolored. It took a strong will to keep from taking time to knead life back into the disfigured flesh of the failed thief. Instead, he left Gloria alone on the bed so that he could deal with the killer. The now naked corpse was thrown dispassionately into the tub. Aaron checked the timer on the five-gallon fuel can and reset the time so that it would open the valve in exactly three hours. That done, Aaron dumped all three jugs of drain cleaner onto the bloody, naked carcass, turned on the bathroom exhaust fan, and closed the room's door. He figured that the man's tissues would be much softened by the action of the industrial strength drain cleaner before the gasoline soaked everything in the tub. Sparks from the rotor on the electric motor driving the bathroom exhaust fan would ignite the explosive vapors, hopefully obscuring the identity of the body for some time. The bloody teeth now wrapped up in one of Gloria's washcloths might buy him some time by keeping forensic technicians from using her dental records. “I'm lucky that the smaller killer came upstairs,” Aaron thought. “This might permanently fool the police, Alexander, and the drug dealers. In any event, it doesn't matter, I only need a little time to wrap this up.” Aaron then muttered a curse and then whispered aloud, “Alexander planned this!” Aaron cursed again and hissed angrily, “There is no doubt about it.”

The hardened slaver looked at the ruined form on the bed. He already saw her as his possession, … his slut, … his sexmeat to control, … his captive slave to modify, free, or destroy as only he saw fit. Alexander Warren had usurped a privilege that the slaver had reserved for himself alone. Aaron found nothing odd or humorous in the irony of becoming astoundingly angry with a man who abused and destroyed the same woman that he was going to sentence to long rounds of humiliation and pain, albeit much less than that meted out by Alexander's minions. Aaron promised revenge for the woman.

Aaron still had to get the beaten woman out of her condominium and safely down to his car so that he could get her emergency medical treatment. To do that, he reluctantly gave her a sedative, knowing that he risked stopping her already stressed heart. Sedated, he was able to much more gently fold her ungagged form into a left-over cardboard china box without risking her suffocation with a harsh gag. The double-thick layer of cardboard held her securely and also hid the shape of its contents. The dolly left behind by the killers was perfect for moving the girl down the elevator and into the garage. Aaron took a smaller cardboard box and loaded the killer's sliced off clothing and anything left behind by the two men. He took the time to wipe himself off with a wet towel from Gloria's spare bathroom; it went into the top box along with the killer's clothing. Lastly, he took a discarded roll of packing tape and secured the two boxes to the dolly, leaving his hands freer to potentially defense himself.

Prepared to leave, Aaron once again checked his clothing and equipment. Content that he'd managed to keep any obvious spatters of blood off his coveralls, he slammed a fully reloaded clip into his nine-millimeter. Everything appeared to be in order. He tapped his now-clean Gerber in the pouch by his shin and remembered the ease with which the wickedly sharp blade had scalped the dark-haired killer. Aaron was proud of the dispassionate way that he'd mutilated the thin corpse, flushing the bloody scalp with its tell-tale black hair down the toilet. A bloody set of male genitals had spiraled down the drain on the next flush. Toothless, scalpless, dickless, and lacking his balls, the killer was even now slowly dissolving in the bathtub.

The hallway was empty; Aaron pushed the dolly out of the condominium toward the elevator. He was content, the end was nearly in sight, and Gloria was well in hand. The secluded alcove of the service elevator was only feet away. Aaron inserted the service key and punched to elevator call button. Everything was still clear, no residents in sight. He took the moment to take a long relaxing breath.

The elevator door quietly dinged open and Aaron pushed the dolly briskly into the elevator. Too focused on the potential dangers behind him in the hallway, Aaron never saw the petite woman already in the elevator. The edge of the cardboard box pushed directly against the woman's lower legs, her upper body fell forward across the upper box and toward the slaver. Quickly recovering from the surprise, Aaron caught the falling blonde's hands and brought them down onto the dolly's top handle in a smooth, controlled move. He firmly locked her hands in place with his left hand and brushed her long, disheveled hair back from where it partially covered her face.

The blonde was slow to recover from the surprise encounter; her face was still blank of any expression, mouth slightly ajar and her body now draped loosely forward over the tall stack of moving boxes. Her plump breasts rested atop the cardboard box holding the bloody teeth and the effects of the two killers. Then, … she focused on Aaron and he saw her mouth shut and her nose flair with a long indrawn breath. Her eyes remained locked on his. Aaron knew instantly that the woman was malleable and he decided to see how far he could go with her.

Dale recognized the woman as Mrs. Harriet Lynch, a neighbor of Gloria's. Dale Brown had taken an exorbitant number of pictures of Harriet during the surveillance of Gloria Waters because of her sexy body. “She's always leaving the building in these skimpy workout outfits,” the private investigator had gushed. “She runs on the greenways outside or goes to her gym across the street every day like clockwork. Whatta fucking body. I'd like a round or two with her, I tell ya!” Aaron had discounted the information Dale told him about the woman as worthless. In fact, he'd demanded that Dale absorb any time wasted on researching the woman. The P.I. had grumbled about cutting some of his fee, but ultimately agreed that he'd been distracted by the sight of the buxom blonde in her Spandex workout clothing even though he had found the two together several times.

“Are you O.K., Mrs. Lynch?” Aaron asked in a carefully soft voice while continuing the contact with her hands and the side of her face. Inwardly he was raging at the distraction and the potential compromise of his presence in the building. Two corpses and a missing woman on the verge of death was not the sort of activity he wanted to be linked to. He racked his brain to remember anything Dale had told him about the woman.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?” she asked hesitantly.

“My name is Robert, Mrs. Lynch, the same as your husband's name. Harriet, … Gloria Waters told me everything about you. She and I have a very special relationship. Gloria is quite the needy type and I am able to scratch a certain special itch that she has. In fact, … she told me you're ready to have the same itch scratched.” Aaron lied smoothly.

Harriet's face took on a thoughtful and still confused look, as she tried to assimilate what the slaver had just hinted at. “What exactly is your relationship with Gloria?” she asked in an attempt at taking control of the situation.

While Aaron was listening to Harriet's question, he reached into his right pocket and grabbed a six-foot length of blue bondage cord he had intended to use during his planned abduction and rape of Gloria. By the time Harriet's hesitant question was finished, the cord was wrapped loosely, but quite securely, around her wrists, locking them atop the dolly. Aaron let his left hand caress up her bare arms while he whispered, “Let me just say that Gloria's wrists were to have been lashed up just like yours, only she left me waiting unfulfilled cause she's stuck working late at the office with her boss. I expect that he wanted some sort of intimate, personal service from her before she left for home.” By now, the slaver had his right hand also exploring down Harriet's back and ended up possessively cupping her taut ass. “Nice ass,” he whispered.”

Harriet stiffened and gently yanked at the cords holding her wrist; her butt was trapped between his hand and the unyielding boxes. “I don't believe you,” she said tremblingly. “Gloria and I are good friends. She never told me about you. Prove that you're her lover. And, … you can't do anything with the elevator door open anyway,” she bluffed, “cause I'll scream.”

The slaver leaned in to sniff at her neck and then gently gave it a bite, eliciting a violent shiver from his prey. He locked eyes with her wide-open ones, just inches away, and answered her question. “Gloria is a true redhead with a tiny vertical tuft of hair above an otherwise hairless pussy. She also has a nicely sized mole directly between the top of her pussy hair and her delicious little bellybutton.” Aaron paused for just a second and added, “Of course you know all that. She's also just a little older than you and her tits are nice B cups compared to your fuller, fatter hooters.” He sniffed again loudly at her neck. “Your scent is marvelous. You smell ripe and womanly. Of course, … Gloria told me about you, … that you're easy, … that you've got a hungry cock holster, … that you'd do anything once you felt my cock, … that you're ready to cheat on your husband.”

Harriet was confused; the stranger fussing at her neck, sniffing and biting was strangely erotic. “Can Gloria really be two-timing her boyfriend?” she asked herself quickly. “He knows about her mole and the tiny patch of hair. It's true, … I've seen it when we've showered at the gym. Oh God! His hand on my arm is enough to make shivers run down my back.” Then she became angry at his calling her boobies ‘hooters.' “What does he think I am?” she angrily said. Then the big hand covering most of her ass tightened its hold, bringing on more tingling sensations through her body. “Oh, eiii!” she thought, “His hand feels so big and strong on my butt. When was the last time my Robert turned me on like this?”

His voice ticked her ear and he whispered, “Are you juiced up and ready for sex?” The words sent another shiver through her trapped form. She felt the hand on her ass shift down the crack of her butt and cup across her pubic mound. Her mouth opened in an ‘O' of surprise as the questing fingers spread her sex under the cotton shorts she wore over her Spandex workout suit. Unconsciously, her legs widened to give him better access. “Oh, shit! He's feeling me up.” The fingers had spread to the outside of her crotch and then scissored inward, now directly contacting her privates. “Eeek!” she cried aloud as three fingers slipped into her moist pussy and her toes finally touched the elevator floor. “He let my own weight rape me down in his fingers,” she thought, “and he went in so deeply and easily. You are such a slut Harriet, … Gloria was right, … it is time to reward myself with something better than what my husband has to offer.” She leaned back as if to escape from the man and the expected tug on the rope on her wrists brought another surge of arousal at her helplessness.

Harriet was vaguely aware of the big man turning her and the dolly to face the elevator door and the empty eleventh floor alcove beyond. The big fingers in her puss shifted her ass around and then continued to delve about, she distinctly heard slurping and sucking sounds as his fingers roughly stirred her wet core. His other hand crept around her torso and tightly cupped one of her tender breasts. “Ahh,” she muttered aloud softly, “that feels good.” She knew that her breasts were always a little sore after a long, hard run, despite the tight sports bra she used, and she loved to have them mauled a little harder than her husband was willing to do. Her knees started to feel a little weak from the multiple stimulations.

Aaron braced his feet and thrust himself into her pussy from behind. The sensation of pushing through the tight Spandex crotchband on one side and the looser cotton crotch of the shorts was an excellent counterpoint to her hot, velvety pussy. “The shell-shocked butch never even knew my dick was out and a condom was being slipped on it. Ahh, yes! Nice pussy!”

Her eyes popped open and her face flushed red. “Stop,” she hissed, “the door is open. At least take me back to my condo.” She squeaked and opened her mouth in a gasping breath as something much fatter and longer than just a few fingers started to nudge at her sex. “Stop! I said, stop!” she hissed back once she could collect her thoughts. The man thrust hard against her butt again, shifting even deeper inside her and widening her pussy in the process. “Oh, … my, … God! How big are you?” Harriet grunted as the big cock began to punch forward into her pussy. “Wonderful,” she whispered. “Oh, … fuck me you bastard.” The hands on her ‘C' cups squeezed even harder and then she felt her hands being unbound. “No,” she panted, “keep them tied, … I love it, it's so sexy.”

Robert ignored the woman, jerked her temporarily freed arms back behind her back, and retied them, each wrist to the opposite arm's elbow. The move stretched her arms back and thrust her breasts forward. It wasn't too uncomfortable; but the position was a slutty one. Harriet whimpered in frustration because her rapist, at least that's how she liked to think of him, had slowed his thrusts to deal with her hands. Just as she opened her mouth to beg him to focus again on pushing his big cock into her from behind, his hands shifted to her shoulders and firmly stretched her exercise suit and sports bra down below her ribcage all the way below her elbows. Surprised, she was dimly aware that her mouth was closing and opening like a fish out of water. His calloused hands rubbed strongly across her bare breasts already sensitized from her run and then the start of sex. “Yesss,” she hissed quietly. “Rub them hard and start to screw me again.”

She yelped as a hand stingingly struck her right ass cheek. Both hands squeezed at her boobs and he whispered in her ear, “Enough orders! You're filling in for Gloria and she is NEVER allowed to give me orders. Further, every spoken thought has to contain at least one Master or My Lord.” She took a deep breath as a particularly hard upward thrust at her butt filled her cunt to the core and lifted her feet completely off the ground. “Eiii,” she mumbled almost inaudibly, “that's what sex should feel like.” She was already comparing the size, stamina, and ferocity of this man's sexual style to that of her milquetoast husband. “Yes, … My Lord, … that's how to do it, … yesss.” Harriet was too sexually heated to be embarrassed at how she was acting. All that the twenty-eight-year-old could think of was how much better this felt than any sex she'd had from her fifty-three-year-old husband. “Fuck,” she whispered again. “What have I been missing? Yesss.”

The hands left her tits and the exposed soft mounds plopped down atop the grating surface of the cardboard box. Something whisked about her head and it took Harriet a moment to realize that her neck was now held at the same point her wrists had been, atop the cold steel handle of the dolly. She didn't protest because the deep stroke of the cock continued, she only grunted as a hand grabbed each hip in a stingingly hard grip and his cock lunged back up into her. As Mrs. Lynch's feet left the ground, she reveled in the feeling of the fat cock up her sex. The hands began to drive her butt up and down onto the dick, massaging parts of her cunt that had never been touched. The scratching of her nipples and breast mounds on the cardboard felt great. The helplessness of being bound and mounted on the dolly added to the sexuality of the scene.

“Oh God, … Master!” she whispered. “How big is your cock? How long can you fuck like that? Oh, My Lord! It's so wonderful.” The cock was still driving hard up into her now sloppy pussy and she started to orgasm. “Oh, nice!” she told herself. “Eiiii! Yesss!”

It was only when Harriet finally began to recover from her mind-blowing orgasm that she noticed that the amazing cock was no longer where it should be and her wet crotch felt oddly drafty. She felt the first faint stirrings of true panic when she also realized that her eyes were covered. “Where are you? What's going on,” she demanded in a hoarse whisper. “Are we still in the elevator? Is the door closed?” For an answer, her now bare butt exploded in pain as a hard male hand struck her a stinging blow. It hurt much more than the first, relatively mild, corrective blows he had given her. She somehow managed to bite off the yell and merely grunted in pain, once. “Sorry, … Master,” Harriet heard herself automatically whisper. Her neck was still held loosely, but securely, against the steel bar atop the dolly, akin to a guillotine victim waiting for the blade to fall. The analogy made her heart beat faster. “This is so amazing,” she thought, “he is so good at directing me, making me feel pleasure, and making me cum. She felt her entire body swivel forward. Something velvety bumped against her nose. Her heart sunk. “No,” she protested quietly, “I don't like oral. Please stick it back in my puss. It'll be good for both of us, I promise.”

Aaron had been very satisfied at the slut's responsiveness. “She's so easy to read.” he gloated. “Late twenties, … trim and fit with nice fat, all natural hooters, blonde, … tight pussy, … bored with her quiet and pampered housewife existence, … enjoys a little bondage and slightly rough sex, compliant and hot; what more do I need in a newbie slave. Harriet will do nicely in Gloria's place for the next few months.” When Harriet protested about beginning the test of her oral skills, it was a dash of cold water on Aaron's enthusiasm. “Bitch!” he hissed as he set the cart down and walked to the elevator controls. “You not only gave me orders, you spoke out of turn, and you forgot to call be Master!” On the inside control panel of the service elevator, his key had been in the off position to lock the doors open, exciting Harriet and himself about the possibility of discovery during sex. Now, he turned the switch to the on position and sent the elevator rumbling toward the basement and his waiting car. During the eleven floors the elevator slowly traversed to ground level, and the three it continued to his parking sublevel, Aaron brought the tightly rolled up belt stowed in a pouch pocket to the ready and began to swing his belt in wide swishing blows against her luscious bare ass and upper thighs. He'd jammed a ballgag in her loudly protesting mouth after just the first few blows. By the time he turned the elevator back to off, stopping it shy of the third sublevel, her backside was criss-crossed with red wheals and her bare legs had ceased their wild kicking. Snot, drool, and tears covered her pretty face.

When the nasty, rubber-tasting gag was pulled out of Harriet's mouth, she was ready to do anything to end the burning that the whipping had ignited in her butt cheeks. Spoiled rotten and bored silly by men her entire life, this man's take-charge excited her to do things she'd never consider on her own. The whipping proved he was serious. Therefore, it was no surprise when the velvety knob of his cock brushed against her lips once again. She didn't hesitate; she took it immediately into her mouth, recognizing the sweet flavor of her own cunny juices. It was the first time she'd tasted cock since high school and only the second time she'd tasted pussy. Once, out of overwhelming curiosity about her husband's protests against giving her oral sex, she'd dipped a finger in her wetness and sucked the juice off her finger. Neither her own taste nor the muskiness of the sex meat in her mouth was a turnoff. Harriet was quickly getting into the act of forced oral rape. She took his whispered comment, “that you're a natural cocksucker,” as a welcome compliment and renewed her sucking and slurping on the fat stick.

Even after feeling the largeness of his dick in her pussy, the size she tongued in her mouth was surprising. “Heez ho ho, Hasta,” she mumbled around the gently thrusting bare cock in her maw. She'd tried to beg him to ‘Please go slow, Master,' he didn't seem to pay any attention to her. No man could take the bound blonde seriously in her present predicament. Her neck was tied to the dolly, and her arms were tied snuggly behind her back presenting her big boobs in their best profile. Beyond just topless with her big boobs flattened on rough cardboard, she was also now bottomless with the crotch of her Spandex workout suit ripped out and the rag rolled all the way up to her belly button. Aaron had her discarded cotton shorts in his pocket. Harriet's blazing red ass and her openly distended pussy lips proclaimed to all that might have seen her that she'd just been soundly fucked. Her face was oriented forward in a position begging men to stuff her throat with their cocks. Her bound form was a clear invitation to all that she was a slut willing to take on all cummers.

Harriet could do nothing except suck hard on the fat cockhead in the hopes that he'd cum fast and not stick it into her mouth too deeply.

“That's it, Aaron encouraged quietly. “You've already shown me what a tight and eager pussy you have.” His voice hardened a little and he continued, “Now it's time to prove to me what a good little cocksucker you are.” He had wanted to take it slow with this captive but since she seemed so malleable, he thought of speeding things up. After all, his cock was already achingly hard and tingling from screwing her so well without cumming; he was saving his load for her throat. A thick line of drool escaped from Harriet's wide-open mouth and Aaron caught it in his right hand and leaned far forward to nest his saliva-lubricated fingertips in the depression at her ass. Without preparation, he simply sunk two fingers half way into her probably virgin ass. When she twitched below him and tried to vocally protest, he hammered his cock forward into her gullet. His cockhead went from her loose, wet mouth deep into her tight, hot throat. The position was awkward, but he persisted with raping her mouth and her ass simultaneously. The sensations on his cock were amazing.

Harriet had drifted back to the pleasant fantasy of being forced to act the slave to a handsome and viral man. She had gotten comfortable in her bondage and felt like she was making progress on the huge dick in her mouth. Even though he kept bumping a little too deep in her mouth, she controlled her gag reflex and kept up the sucking, slurping motions. The hands that kept caressing her head, her bare back, her sides with the flared out mounds of her boobs, and her tingling ass cheeks fueled her horniness. Harriet had not only resigned herself to sucking Robert off, she hoped to keep him in her mouth long enough to get him hard again. “Fuck!” she told herself, “he's made me so horny and greedy. I can still feel my puss clenching from that orgasm. It's shameful, but I want more. My Robert is too old, too small, and too gentlemanly to treat me this way. This is how sex should feel; alive and wonderful, especially since I'm helpless and have to accept what He gives me.”

She felt His hand caress her cheek and wipe the line of drool off the corner of her mouth. It seemed a caring and intimate move and she loved Him for it, especially in her current state of helplessness. The man leaned heavily across her back and when fingers touched her behind, she hummed in approval. “He's going to keep me stimulated,” she thought dreamily, already feeling the anticipated strokes across her clit. A sudden pain at her butt and then a hard pushing against her most private place evoked an involuntary shriek of protest against the cock gagging her mouth. Instead of paying the least attention to her complaint, the dick in her mouth flew further in and crashed painfully past the barrier at the rear of her mouth. She hardly felt the pain in her ass as a third finger quickly joined the two already raping deep in that very tight hole. Blinded and helpless, she was incredibly aware of her predicament when scratchy pubic hair brushed against her nose and then a rock hard pubic bone thumped into her lips. Harriet froze in amazement that the entire cock was in her mouth, like a log forced into her gullet. She tried to breathe through her nose and was panicked to realize that her breathing passage was blocked. The long dick seemed to roll around her throat as if trying to widen it. She began to struggle for air. The dick pulled out and she gasped for breathe.

As soon as the shell-shocked blonde below him began to squirm in earnest, Aaron reluctantly pulled his long cock out of her throat and mouth. He loved the look of gasping desperation on Harriet's face as she struggled to catch her breath. After a quick count aloud to five, Aaron thrust back into her throat, feeling her tightness caress the full length of his cock like no pussy ever could. He adjusted the angle of the dolly and started a long, steady, skull-fucking session with his latest captive. “Your throat is tight and your mouth is hot,” he told the woman below him. When he felt his cum trying to boil its way out of his balls, he pulled out and walked around the trophy housewife. Her loosened anus winked back at him as he regarded her red-streaked butt cheeks, her still virginal rectum that beckoned him, and her sloppy and wet pussy lips below.

The head of his cock was wet, but not so well lubricated that it'd slip easily into her dry rectum. He solved that simple problem by burying himself fully into her slime-coated pussy. “Tight,” he told the gasping woman, “you still have a nice tight pussy. I'll enjoy more of it later on. Right now, I want your last virgin hole; this'll complete your first ‘around the world' sexing.” He laughed at the weak struggles of Harriet below him. “One more stroke,” he whispered, “then we can start working on that hot ass you have.” He caressed lush meat on either side of her pussy with his fingers, pulled his dick out with a wet plop, and set his plum-sized head at her nether hole. The head fitted inside with relative ease; but there was a lot of cock still outside her stretched opening. Harriet gasped below him and Aaron whispered to her, “Bear down like you're going to take a shit. It will help let me inside. Do it, or it will hurt like holy hell when I push.”

Harriet must have paid attention because her anus spasmed in a tightening and loosening grip, almost pulling him inside as he began a forward thrust synchronized with the each loosening motion of her rectal sheath.

Harriet was no longer having so much fun. Her throat felt raw and swollen from the mouth rape she'd just endured. The fact the man raping her was still hard was difficult to accept. She knew that she'd been ravaged for at least thirty minutes so far. “And,” she told himself, “he still wants more. He hasn't even cum yet.” The pressure against her needy pussy lips brought some relief. “Fuck me,” she automatically whispered, now feeling shame at her wantonness for the first time. “It was fun at first,” she told herself with wonder. “Now it's too much, … but my body still wants more.” She thought about it and wheedled in a soft voice, “My Lord, … please make me cum again. Please, … don't hurt me again, Master. My pussy needs it.”

Instead of satisfaction, she felt fear when the man standing ready to skewer her again whispered that it was time to try out her ass. She was still trying to figure out what ‘around the world' meant when the fat knob on his cock popped inches into her butt. “Ohhh,” was her automatic and witless response. Like a robot, she followed the whispered instructions in her ear and helped ease the fuckmeat into her intestines with attempts to shit. “Full,” she moaned aloud, “Oh, God, I'm so full of cock!” The man behind her must have enjoyed her response because a hand sneaked under his dick and fingers started to worm their way into her pussy at the same time a questing digit found her clit. Harriet heard a voice moaning like a slut in heat. With shame, she wriggled her hips about to encourage her own ass rape and the glorious stimulation around her pussy. “I, … am, … a, … slut!” she whispered in between long shuddering breaths times to coincide with the long strokes massaging her rectum. “Ohhhh!” she whispered wonderingly, “It burns, … it hurts, … it is sooo big, … oh, its way better now.” Her nerves seemed electrified from the stimulation and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm approach. Then with full acknowledgement of what she'd been reduced to, she demanded petulantly, “Fuck me! You Bastard! Beat me if you want, but please for God's sake, fuck me till I faint!”

Her begging for sex was both a signal and a challenge. He pulled his throbbing cock almost all the way out of her hot hole and then thrust right back in, slapping her right haunch as he bottomed out in her ass. His left hand kept up a gentle squeezing on her clit. He slowly increased the pace of the fucking, and the spanking; the end of this first round of sex was in sight. Just seconds later, his cum came boiling out of his dick, spurting deep into her intestines as he held his cock stationary, locked tightly against her fleshy butt. Aaron collapsed across her sweaty back and nibbled absently at his newest slave's neck. “Nice ass, slave. I think you're a keeper.”

--- To Be Continued ---

Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com

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