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Chapter 3 ��FBI
���� �The doorbell rang right after I�d
gotten in the shower.� I�d spent the day
at MR Inc. learning a business that had become my responsibility overnight.� Operations wise, Gordon Morrison, my
husband�s plant manager, appeared to have everything under control.� He assured me they had enough work in the
pipeline to keep the place going for at least six months maybe longer.� I agreed with his suggestion we hire a
salesman to fill my husband�s role and find future business.�
���� With Dan dead, I owned MR Inc. and it was
in my interest to keep it functioning and profitable until I figured out what
to do with it.� I asked Gordon if Dan had
mentioned working on any big accounts.�
Gordon should know if there was something huge in the works.�
����
�Only one, he said things were looking good for a contract reclaiming
cell phones,� said Gordon.
���� �How much was involved?� I asked.
���� �Little over a million for a two year
contract,� said Gordon.
���� That was long way from the twenty million,
Sergei was expecting me to find.�
���� I spent the rest of the day meticulously
searching Dan�s office for anything that might tell me where he was or why
Sergei thought he had such a large sum of money.� I didn�t find anything and going through his
desk and personal stuff depressed me.
���� Being around the recovery furnaces made me
feel gritty; so as soon as I got home, I stripped down for a shower.� I took a moment to examine my body in the
mirror.� I was healing up nicely.� It had been four days since Sergei and his
goons had worked on me.� The first day I
could barely move I hurt so badly.�
���� After that I credit my physical
conditioning and the frequent application of a Vitamin E cream with rapid
healing.� My boobs were almost back to
normal.� Even the holes made by the
fishhooks had healed over and there was only a small scab.
���� I was also getting back to normal mentally.� Last night was the first I had slept through
without waking up covered in sweat dreaming that Oscar, Billy, Stan, Mel or a
combination of all four was raping me or applying a cane to my boobs.
���� I�ll never look at bamboo in quite the
same way.� I looked it on the WEB and
learned it can grow fourteen inches in a day.�
Chinese emperors used to execute their enemies by suspending them over a
bed of bamboo shoots and watching it grow through their bodies.� Rape and torture doesn�t leave you with happy
thoughts.
���� I�d just shampooed my hair when I heard
the front door bell ring.� �Christ, who
the hell could that be?� I muttered.�
Then I recalled that my next door neighbor and best friend, Jill Fraser,
had emailed me that she had something important she needed to show me when I
got home.� I rinsed the soap out of my
hair, wrapped it in a towel, and threw on a terry cloth robe.
� ���But
it wasn�t Jill.� It was the pair of FBI
agents who had shown up after Dan died to tell me they couldn�t find his DNA
floating in the wreckage.� At the time,
they�d struck me as not what I�d expected from the FBI.� Of course, my expectations were built on
television and
���� I�d never actually met anyone from the FBI
so I didn�t worry about the fact that Agent Larry Tyson was very tall, slender,
and extremely handsome.� He had large
hands with long tapered fingers that totally wrapped my hand when he shook it.
����� His partner, Alice Magnuson, in contrast,
was short, squat, and pleasant looking. �My dad would say
���� Most women learn to hide their defects and
expose their assets.�� Agent Magnuson�s
mid thigh hem revealed enough cellulite to fill up a dozen liposuction
collection bottles.
���� One other odd thing was that the pair was
not from the Minneapolis-St Paul office but had flown in from
���� My second meeting with the FBI started off
politely.� �Mrs. Wagner, can we come
inside and talk,� asked Agent Tyson who had the kind of face and build that
made you wonder why he wasn�t in
���� �Certainly, but give me a few minutes to
dry my hair.� I opened the door and stood
aside.� I was considering telling them
about Sergei, my gang rape, and torture but decided to hold off.�� That turned out to be wise.
��� I offered them water or soda then parked
them in the living room before I rushed back to the bathroom and my blow dryer.
I was seated at my dressing table wielding dryer and brush when the door popped
open and Agent Magnuson appeared.
���� Given there was a guest bath right off the
living room and I was in the large bath that was part of the master bedroom
suite located at the other end of the house, her appearance made no sense whatsoever?
���� I was about to object when she marched
across the room toward the small toilet closet.�
On her way, she spied the bidet and halted in her tracks.� The bidet had been Dan�s idea.� He�d worked overseas and considered them more
hygienic than toilet paper.� It took me a
while to get used to it but I adapted after a while and didn�t think twice of
using it.
���� �I always wanted to try one of those
things.� What are they called?� asked
Agent Magnuson pointing toward the porcelain bowl.
���� �It�s a bidet.� Wouldn�t you be more comfortable in the guest
bath?� It�s in the hallway to the left
outside the living room,� I said.
���� She completely ignored my suggestion.� �It�s French. It washes your pussy after you take
a whiz.�
���� The way she phrased her remark surprised
me; perhaps working with criminals led you to talk like one.� The next few happenings left me with my mouth
hanging open in amazement.� She didn�t
wait for an answer.� She turned around
and backed up to the bidet like it was a toilet as she grabbed the hem of her
skirt and pulled.
���� �No, turn around,� I said realizing she�d
pee all over the floor.
���� �Show me,� said Agent Magnuson.
����� �I�d rather not,� I said.
���� �Don�t be
shy.� It�s just us girls and I want to
learn,� said Agent Magnuson, a combination of disappointment tinged with threat
creeping into her voice.
���� I wasn�t shy.� I was a Marine, who�d squatted and pissed by
the side of the road with a company of trained killers looking on.� Still, that was a life time ago.� I decided on the spot that Agent Magnuson was
eccentric and it was best to humor her since she had a semiautomatic pistol on
her hip.
���� I stood up, took off my robe and straddled
the bidet facing the wall.� I lowered my
body and took a deep breath as I wondered if being partially insane was a
requirement for joining the FBI.
���� �You got an incredible body.� I need to lose a few pounds and firm up,�
said Agent Magnuson standing close by.
���� A lot of women can�t pee in public.� Fortunately, I�m not one of them.� As I let go, Agent Magnuson chose to
comment.� �You don�t sit on it.� You squat like you were in an alley or a filthy
crapper.�
���� I suppose there were times when Agent
Magnuson was chasing some criminal and facilities were not available.� When I finished, I turned the knob that
directed the spray onto my vulva.�
����� �So that�s how you wash your pussy,� said
Agent Magnuson standing close by me and peering down at my sex.
����� At that moment, things got weirder.
����� �What are you girls up to,� asked Agent
Tyson?�
����� Since my back was to the open door I had
no idea how long he�d been there.� I was
shocked he had wandered in while I was urinating.� Adding to my amazement was that he was
holding a half eaten sandwich he made in my kitchen.� Agent Magnuson was quick to answer.
���� �Marnie was showing me how to use her
fancy French pisser.� I�m next. Come
watch,� said Agent Magnuson.
���� Crime shows on television portray the
relationship of partners in law enforcement as unusually close.� But did Sonny invite Tubbs to watch him
urinate?� Was Starsky unable to move his
bowels unless his buddy Hutch was holding his hand?� Their behavior struck me as over the top and
who wants that from armed FBI agents.�
���� Agent Tyson casually walked across the
bathroom to observe more closely.� He
took a bite of his sandwich as he peered down into the bidet and commented,
�This girl I used to date had one of those; but I never saw her use it.�
����� I stood transfixed as Agent Magnuson with
considerable effort tugged her skirt up to her waist.� She wasn�t wearing any underpants.� Her pudendum was shaved and there was an
elaborate tattoo on her groin area.� Her
labia were pierced with a trio of large gold rings and there was a smaller ring
in her clit.� With some difficulty, she
straddled the bidet and after a second or two began to pee.� It was noisy and it lasted a long time.
����� �I really had to go,� said Agent Magnuson
reaching to turn on the water.�� When the
stray landed on her sex, she let out a low cow like moan before commenting, �I
could get off on this.�
���� It was a scene out of an asylum.� I was standing there stark naked with damp
hair.� Agent Tyson was eating a ham and
cheese on rye with mayo while watching his partner wash the pee off her pussy.� Agent Magnuson, her eyes closed, was using
the flow to reach orgasm.� Unfortunately,
her stout thighs weren�t up to the task of supporting the rest of her and she
collapsed down on the rim.
����� �That�s fucking cold,� said Agent
Magnuson struggling to her feet.�
����� I handed her a towel to dry herself.
����� �How do you like my rings?� I just got them last month.� she asked
flicking them with her fingers.
����� Say something nice I told myself.
�They�re very pretty.� Did it hurt when
they put them in?�
���� �Oh fuck, did it?� I screamed my head off.� Good thing I was tied down,� said Agent
Magnuson.
���� �You weren�t sedated?� I asked wondering
how painful it would be to have someone push a needle through your
clitoris.� Was it as bad as having a
fishhook inserted in your nipples?
���� �Shit no, it was part of my initiation,�
said Agent Magnuson.
���� I never got to ask who initiated her or
why.� Agent Tyson interrupted, �Show me
how this works for a guy.�
����� He handed what was left of his sandwich
to Agent Magnuson as he reached for his fly.�
She lifted the bread to check the contents then took a large bite.
���� �It�s not really a urinal,� I said as he
pulled his cock out, unlimbered it, and let fly, utterly ignoring me.
���� It was an unusually long thick cock and
Agent Magnuson felt the need to elaborate.�
�Agent Tyson is known as Tripod Tyson around the
���� I was speechless.� And I did not want to describe how Dan after
having a bowel movement in the toilet would use the bidet to wash his
anus.� ��
���� �So how does it clean my dick,� asked
Agent Tyson shaking off a few drops that landed on the floor?
���� �It doesn�t,� I said. �It�s not designed
for that.�
���� �Well, I guess you�ll have to do it,
Marnie,� said Agent Magnuson finishing off the sandwich.� There was a comma of mayonnaise at the corner
of her mouth.
�����
�What,� I said in no way comprehending what was about to happen.
���� �Clean his dick.� It�s got piss on it,� said Agent Magnuson
starting to sound more menacing.
���� �Use this,� I said reaching for one of the
small towels stacked by the bidet that we keep there for that purpose.
���� It was at that moment, Agent Magnuson
released her inner psycho bitch.� �No,
you stupid cunt, use your fucking mouth,� said Agent Magnuson pulling her
pistol out of the holster and cocking it.�
In a flash, she grabbed my hair and forced me to my knees. ��She smacked me on the side of my head with the
gun barrel causing me to see stars.
�����
�Suck his fucking cock, Marnie, or I�ll blow your fucking head off,� screamed
Agent Magnuson holding the barrel hard against my temple.� That hurt like hell.
���� For the second time in a week, I was about
to be raped. ��But when you�re on your
knees and the worst psycho bitch you can imagine is calling for you to suck
somebody�s cock, you do it.� Agent Tyson
moved to where the head was pressing against my lips.� I could smell piss. My mouth opened and I
took it in.
���� �Marnie�s a piss drinker, aren�t you,
Marnie,� asked Agent Magnuson.
���� I was whatever the nut case with a gun
said I was.� �Yes, I drink piss,� I said
taking that very big cock out of my mouth.�
It was a stretch to get my lips around it.�
�� ���Take it, you piss swallowing slut whore,�
said Agent Tyson proving he hadn�t totally emptied his bladder into the
bidet.� Swallowing rank urine is not easy
but I had nine millimeters of incentive not to fuck up.
���� �Look at that lying whore drinking your
piss.� She loves it.� She can�t get enough.� She wants more,� said Agent Magnuson reaching
for the glass I used to rinse my mouth after I brush my teeth.
���� Agent Tyson�s bladder was empty so I
stopped swallowing and concentrate on sucking.�
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Agent Magnuson was holding
the glass between her legs and filling it.
����� �Drink this, Piss Lover,� she said
extending the full to the brim glass to me.�
Some sloshed over my hand as I took the glass.
����� �Bottoms up, cunt,� said Agent Tyson with
a big smile on his face.
����� It took several swallows but I managed to
get it down.� As soon as I finished,
Agent Tyson took hold of my head and forced it down on his cock.�
����� �Face fucking time,� said Agent Tyson as
he jammed his pecker into my throat.�
���� At some point, he forced it far enough
down that my face was smashed into his groin with his balls pressing against my
chin.� Agent Magnuson used her fingers to
clamp my nostrils shut.� They held me
tight between them as I fought for air.�
My throat was gagging around the meat cylinder lodged inside.� In desperation, I managed to throw them off
me and leap for the bidet where I puked up an amazing amount of piss along with
lunch.
��� I was leaning on the bidet with my stomach
still heaving when I felt Agent Tyson�s cock seeking to penetrate my
vagina.� I felt a hand on the back of my
neck forcing my head downward into the vomit.�
���� �I want to drown the bitch in her own
puke,� said Agent Magnuson as she forced my head under the surface.� She held it there until I thought my lungs
were going to explode.� Agent Tyson�s fingers
were pulling my anus apart as he hammered his mega dick into my vagina.
���� She submerged me repeatedly in my muck as
her partner fucked me.� At one point, he
was doing painful things to my ass while she used one hand to try and rip my
nipple off.� It�s hard to imagine a more
brutal and disgusting form of sexual intercourse.� But from the whoops and yelps coming from my
tormentors, I could tell they were having a wonderful time.�
���� Revelation arrived when she pulled me up
and said, �If you don�t tell us where the twenty million is, I�m going to hold
you under until you drown.�
���� The twenty million again, who would have
thought it.� Of course, they were after
it.� I should have guessed.� Still, this was the FBI.� They were supposed to be public
servants.�
����� �Going to blow,� said Agent Tyson with
two thumbs prying my anus open as he bruised my rear with a staccato of thrusts.� I felt him fill my stretched and sore vagina
with semen.
����� Agent Magnuson wasn�t finished,
however.� She grabbed one of my recently
healed nipples and twisted it as she pushed my head toward the muck.� �Let�s see how long before she turns blue.�
���� �I�ll tell you where the money is,� I
said.� It was a lie but I couldn�t take
any more.
����� �Where s it, bitch?� demanded Agent
Magnuson.
����� At that moment, I felt something being
poured into my asshole and the pain was so intense. I went nuts.� It was like someone had stuck a red hot poker
up my butt.� I broke free of Agent
Magnuson and rolled around the floor grabbing for my ass which was on fire.
����� �What did you do to her, Tyson,� asked
Agent Magnuson.
����� �Poured Listerine in her shit hole,� said
Agent Tyson proudly holding up the plastic bottle.� He had stuck the neck of the bottle in my
anus and squeezed the plastic.� He was
laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes.
����� �Why the fuck did you do that?� She was about to tell us where the money is,�
said Agent Magnuson.
������ �Stupid cunt is lying.� She doesn�t know shit,� said Agent Tyson.
����� While they were having their little
t�te-�-t�te, yours truly was screaming in pain and dragging her butt across the
tile floor like an Airedale with a bad case of worms.� Obviously, Agent Tyson knew a use for
Listerine that wasn�t on the label.� I
was out of my mind; it felt like someone had poured gasoline in my rectum and
set it on fire.
���� �So what do you want to do, Genius?� asked
Agent Magnuson.
���� �Make her find the money for us,� said
Agent Tyson.
���� �And why should she do that?� asked Agent
Magnuson.
���� �Because if she doesn�t, we�ll air mail
her to our friends across the pond,� said Agent Tyson.
����� �Might work,� said Agent Magnuson after
thinking for a moment.
����� �I brought the DVD that shows the spa
treatment she�ll receive,� said Agent Tyson with a grin.� �We�ll show it to her.�
����� �All right, nothing to lose by
trying.� What do you want me to do with
her?� asked Agent Magnuson.
����� �Clean her up.� I�m going to the kitchen and make another
sandwich.� Want anything?� said Agent
Tyson.
����� �Yes, but make mine with mustard not
mayonnaise.� I�m trying to lose a few
pounds,� said Agent Magnuson.
���� As Agent Tyson left the room, I reached into
a cabinet and pulled out my douche bag then I started crawling toward the
shower, keeping my burning asshole in contact with the tiles.
����� �I�ll help you with that, Marnie,� said
Agent Magnuson as she started to undress.
����� �My guts are on fire,� I said struggling
to get into the oversized shower stall.
����� �That Tyson is one crazy motherfucker.
Some CIA type taught him that Listerine trick.�
He gets the biggest kick out of watching the perp go nuts,� said Agent
Magnuson as she removed her bra to expose her enormous breasts.� I�d guess 38DD.
���� �The pain is unbearable and it won�t go
away.� Please hurry,� I pleaded.
���� The now nude Alice Magnuson got into the
shower and turned the water on.�
���� �After I douche out your butt, you can
show your appreciation by eating my pussy,� said Agent Magnuson as she filled
the bag.
���� �Yes, anything, just hurry,� I said. ����������
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