1

   “Miss me Duncan?” the whispered words sliced through the silence.

   That was how it started.  Cold, harsh, calculated.  She didn't have to see who spoke them.  

   “Cheating death itself these days huh Marcott,” the blond fired back.

   That comment brought a chuckle from the woman, who pressed the cold barrel against Heather Duncan's neck.

   “You know I couldn't die.  There was too much unfinished work to do,” Mallory  hissed.

   Heather heard the soft clacking of her shoes as she stepped away.

   “Lose the jacket,” Marcott demanded, making certain to keep a safe distance.

   Heather slowly slipped out of the light dress coat she had worn over the black lace, sleeveless blouse, and tossed it on the desk.

   “Slowly raise your hands and bring your left one behind your head,” Mallory commanded.

   Heather complied.  Marcott, she knew, was easily capable of carrying and using multiple weapons.

   She felt cold steel touch the palm of her left hand.

   “Take this and snap it around your left wrist,” Marcott commanded.

   Heather did as told.

   “Tighter,” came the simple command.

   The   blonde was able to gain two more click before the police issue cuff was tight around her wrist.

   “Now the other wrist,” Mallory ordered.

   Heather brought her wrists to her front.

   “You take me for an idiot,” Marcott hissed.  “Behind your back.”

   It was awkward, but after a minute or two, Heather had successfully completed the task.

   “Turn around, very slowly,” came the request.

   Heather turned to face the woman she had been certain she would never see again, Mallory Marcott.  She was as beautiful as she was deadly.  Even behind the all black spandex outfit she wore, Heather could see the sleek contours of muscular flesh;  the smallish breasts, which Heather knew would be erect in spite of the “all-business” air being conveyed.

   “Very good, Duncan,” Marcott said nodding.  “Now raise your right leg and place your foot on top of the desk.”

    Heather hesitated, but a motion from the silencer-equipped gun forced her to comply.  She raised her long leg, deeply tanned courtesy of a recent two week stint in Cabo, and placed her pump clad  foot on the 30-inch tall desk top.

   “This won't end well for you,” Heather said.

   “Oh really?” Mallory chuckled.  “I feel rather certain that the near future doesn't bode well for you either.  Lift your arms away from your body.”

   Mallory was good.  She took no chances.  Heather did as she was told.

   In the next instant a searing pain shot through her arms as her elbows were drawn painfully together.  It was apparently a pre-tied loop of plastic cable tie that was slipped unnoticed up her arms, then quickly tightened.  Then the excess end was snipped off.

   Heather started to lower her leg.

  “Not yet, Duncan,” Mallory hissed.  “You should know the rules.”

   Heather Duncan shuddered.  Indeed the near future was not boding well.

   She felt the woman's hand slide under the hem of her skirt.

   “Still like the sexy stuff, huh,?” Mallory's husky voice whispered, her fingers exploring the lacy, brief panties.

   Heather felt herself becoming aroused as her former lover's fingers stroked the puffy flesh pressed hard against the flimsy material.

   “I still do it for you don't I?” Mallory chuckled.

   “And you're still presumptuous, I see,” Heather shot back, trying not to betray herself.

   Mallory's fingers gripped the waist-band of the panties, dragging them downward as far as they would go with Heather's leg raised.

   “All-right Duncan,” Mallory said, releasing the panties and stepping back, “you do the rest.”

   Heather knew what she wanted.  She lowered her foot to the floor, the lowered panties now free to fall uninhibited, to bunch around her ankles.

   “Kick them over to me,” Mallory motioned.

   Heather did so, and in a manner she knew was expected.  No sudden movements.

   Mallory picked up the silken panties, carefully wadding them up, never taking her eyes off the   blonde girl.

   “Hardly enough here to do the job, is there?” Mallory smirked.  “I'd add mine to the cause, but it would be too time consuming.”

   Heather felt a sense of relief that the black spandex worn by Mallory would not allow for its rapid removal.

   “I hope your not fond of that blouse,” Mallory motioned.

   Actually, she was.  It was expensive.  Black, sheer, it was intended to be worn with a bra, and under a jacket.  Mallory moved in and made short work of it with her knife, seeming to appear from nowhere.  Now Heather had only her black sculpted bra from the waist up and it lasted even less time, her large breasts bobbing into prominence as it was severed.

   “Oh my, Duncan.  Have they gotten bigger?” Mallory asked.

   She stepped back.  Heather was a sight.  Her large 37-D breasts could have been wrongly accused of having help to appear as they did.  With her elbows drawn back, they thrust forward in defiance of their weight and size.   Her ponytail came over her shoulders in front, falling to the side of her right breast, and terminating at her waist.

   “I see you've been avoiding those topless beaches,” Mallory said.  “Don't tell me modesty is getting the best of you.”

   She referred to the two tiny triangles at the blond girls chest, squarely over the nipples.  Heather glared at her.

   “Naw, it's just that now I tend to hang with more respectable folks,” she shot back.

   Mallory laughed.

   “Still got spunk, Duncan,” she grinned.  “That's good.  You'll need it.”

   Mallory was wadding up the ruined blouse.  Then she wrapped the blond's panties around it.

   “Open,” Mallory said, holding the mass up close to her mouth.

   Heather turned away.

   Mallory slapped her tits.

   “You think I wont make you pay if you don't do as I say?” she hissed sternly.

   Heather was inclined to resist, but she knew it was ultimately futile.  With a look of disgust, she opened her mouth.  She wasn't really prepared for the enormity of the gag.  Mallory had to push and shove and pack, but finally it was all inside, at which point a wide leather belt was wrapped around twice, then firmly buckled.

   “You know, you're better when that pretty little mouth is occupied,” Mallory laughed.  “I should have remembered that.”

   Heather's arms were already growing numb as Mallory placed the jacket around the   blonde girls shoulders.  She fastened the buttons down the front, tucked the arms into the pockets at the side, then stood back to make certain that all passed inspection.  She nodded with approval, then pulled one last item from the pouch fastened at her waist. 

   “This is to make sure you don't try anything funny,” she said holding it aloft for the bound girl to see.  Heather knew what it was.  In the business it was simply known as a “sizzler.”  It was metallic, and in this case lubricated.  It fit inside a girls vagina, looking for all intents and purposes like a vibrator of sorts.  But once inside, two spring loaded hinges on each side sprung open.  Not far, they didn't need to.  Each hinge was only a half inch or so long.  But the underside of each had tiny barbs that kept it from coming back out.  It was not really painful, unless it was extracted improperly.  Or unless it was activated.  It carried voltage similar to that of a stun gun.  And if activated, Heather guessed that her childbearing days would be over at her current age of 22.

   Mallory moved behind the   blonde girl, and once again slipped her hand under the mid-thigh length black skirt, to the now exposed pussy, and slipped the device easily into place.  She tugged it back down slightly, just enough to open hinges fully, and then stood.

   “All right Duncan, move it!” Mallory commanded.

   Heather hesitated, her sensitive vagina not yet accustomed to the cool metal inside her.  Marcott grabbed her by the ponytail, and the two, captor and captive, headed for the back door. 

   Outside all was quiet.  As Heather's eyes became accustomed to the dark, she noticed the dark shape of a van.  She groaned.  Nothing good could possibly come from a ride in that van at this time of night, but her good sense told her little else availed her at the moment.

   Mallory put her arm around Heather, embracing her like an old friend.  As they walked toward the van, the side door began to open remotely.  They went at a brisk, but steady pace, Mallory carrying on all the while about how good it was to see her old friend.  Had anyone been around to notice, there would have seemed to be little out of order, but unfortunately for Heather, even that hope went unfulfilled, as the streets were empty.

   Inside the van, Mallory quickly forced Heather to the floor, closing the van door in the process.  There were no seats in the back, just carpeting on the floor. The light inside remained on, and Heather guessed the windows were tinted to obscure any passerby from seeing what transpired within. Mallory opened a small plastic lock-box and pulled out several more coils of the thin cord.  She crossed the   blonde girls ankles, and bound them tightly and painfully with a length.  Her thighs were next, with more of the thin cord, and Heather hissed through her gag as it immediately cut well in.  She was shoved to her stomach and more cord was tied around her ankles and up through the plastic tie at her elbows.  Her ankles were pulled painfully up, even past her wrists, then the excess cord was brought down and fastened again at her ankles.  She felt Mallory fumbling with her ponytail, then her head was jerked back and fastened to the mass of wrists, ankles and elbows in back.    No longer concerned about being seen, Mallory now sliced through the remainder of clothing from the helpless   blonde, and tossed it aside.  It had been quick, but brutally efficient. Painfully arched, naked but for her high heels, elbows and ponytail bound to ankles, Heather Duncan had been effectively immobilized and silenced.  When she was certain all the bonds were tight, Mallory fished the “sizzler” out from Heather's vagina, bringing a muffled sigh of relief from the bound girl

   “Good thing you're flexible love,” Mallory whispered, slapping Heather's flank.

   She gripped the   blonde girls large breasts, squeezing them and pinching the nipples sharply.

   “I've missed these,” she hummed, feeling them harden at her touch.

   Heather moaned into her gag, embarrassed to have her body betray her.

   “But those day are over now aren't they?” Mallory said, grabbing yet another length of the thin cord. 

   She wrestled the helpless   blonde over onto her side, and began threading another doubled strand around Heather's waist. 

   “This, my hot little slut, will take your mind off of all we once were,” Mallory hissed.

   She tightened it brutally, reducing the   blonde girls waist from its normal 22 inches, down to a breath-inhibiting 17 inches, and leaving a long trailing end.  This end was brought down between Heather's legs, her captors fingers making certain it bisected her where she wished it to, then passed up between Heather's brown ass cheeks, where she fetched it readily.  It was brought up and around the elbow strap, then pulled on sharply.  Heather whimpered through the gag, her eyes watering as the bristly cord tore into her sensitive cunt.  Two more harsh tugs practically embedded it there, and Mallory tied the whole thing off, wrapping it around those cords connecting ankles, elbows and hair, and serving to arch her strained body even more.

   “We've got a bit of a ride ahead,” Mallory said, her fingers once again exploring the lush expanse of her helpless captive.  “Perhaps you can use your time to think of what you want to tell us.”

   Mallory bent close, sticking her tongue in Heather's ear, an old trick she used in their passionate love-making sessions, and squeezed the bound girls breasts. 

   “Or, maybe you can conjecture what kinds of things we may inflict on this lovely body of yours if you decide to tell us nothing,” she whispered, emphasizing the point by tugging on the horrid crotch-rope.

   When she was done, she left Heather to her private misery, bounding to the front of the van, and driving off into the night.

   The “bit of a ride” part that Mallory had told her about was an understatement.  Heather's limbs had long ago lost all feeling.  Almost totally unable to move, she had no choice but to lie as still as possible, and hope for a short ride, her body becoming moist with sweat.

   Her mind mulled the past 6 months in fast forward, a trick she had trained herself to do with some mental exercises.  It had been a great time, up until the end.  Her nights were spent in fulfilling passion with her gorgeous lover, her days, as an agent of Female Intelligence and Training, or FIT.  They were whatever headquarters needed them to be.  A highly trained outfit, they were all well versed in martial art, small firearms, interrogation, and duty to country.  Their most recent assignment had been to shadow and arrest a group of female narcotics peddlers.  Never would Heather have dreamed the girl sleeping next to her all those night would have been a part of the group.  But small hints were hard to ignore.  Computer security indicated someone tampering with her computer at hours only Mallory would have access to it.  Evidence someone was monitoring her phone calls.  Slipping out of bed in the middle of the night.  But the most damning part was when she was caught red-handed photographing classified information.

   Heather had confronted her.  She recalled the teary-eyed denial.  The final night of screaming orgasms that seemed to go on forever, and then the day at the lake.  It had been a day of sun and fun, but when it ended, Heather watched in horror as Mallory drove away and into a fiery inferno of a crash not more than a quarter mile away.  The fire had been so hot, no body was ever found.  Heather's grief was tempered by reports from headquarters that Mallory had indeed been involved with the group known as FIRM, Female International Revolutionary Movement, and at the highest levels.  Her grief turned to anger.  She had been betrayed.  She avoided work for a time, electing to spend time with her 16 year old sister Samantha.  When the opportunity arose, the two of them spent a relaxing two weeks in Cabo, staying at a luxury villa, and lounging around.

   On her return home she was greeted with more bad information; further evidence that FIT's operations had been jeopardized by Mallory's treachery.  Heather felt horrible.  The lapse in character judgment could have cost agents their lives.  She vowed to be more cautious in the future. 

   But her vow had gone unheeded.  Almost the second she heard the words “Miss me Duncan?” she  had chills run down her spine.  There was only one person possessing the necessary knowledge to gain access to Heather's secret studio.  Disguised as a storage center, the entrance had been modified, the interior fortified, and an alarm system installed.  All was for naught, though, with the simple overriding command reserved solely for Heather.  Or anyone crafty enough to have stolen that command.  And really only one person who knew her well enough to know when she might be most vulnerable to a sneak attack.  She silently cursed herself.  She could only guess what lay in store.  One hope was that Mallory would have enough fond memories of their past time together she might see fit to go easy on her former friend.  But the fact that she had abducted, stripped, and tightly bound and gagged Heather did not lend much credence to those hopes. 

   Finally, after what seemed to be 3-4 hours, Heather heard the van pull off the paved road.  Still, it was another half hour before bouncing and jostling stopped, ant the engine shut off.  After another wait of several minutes, the doors finally opened, and her legs were cut free.  She was tossed over a burly back, and carried inside a cool building.

     

   “Oh Duncan,” Mallory sighed with disgust.  “I had SO hoped you might co-operate.”

   Heather stifled a cry into her gag as Mallory tugged hard on the cord pulling her arms up towards the ceiling behind her back.  It raised the   blonde beauty to the tips of her toes. Her mouth worked against the  foul tasting rubber which had moments before been crammed into her mouth, and buckled tightly in place.   Mallory tied the cord off, and walked around to kneel in front of the bound girl, staring into her face.  She brushed the long   blonde hair away from Heather's pain-glazed blue eyes, having earlier released the braided portion of the ponytail, and then began to grope at her breasts.

   “You know, I WILL make you talk,” she chuckled, feeling the helpless girls nipples stiffen in response.  “I happen to know what makes you tick.”

    Heather shifted from foot to foot trying to relieve the strain.  Her body was soaked with sweat, her arms a single scalded unit from her elbow to her wrists.  The thin sisal at her elbow crushed the joints together, and her wrists were turning blue from the tightness of the cords there.  Mallory walked to the side of the room and returned with a metal rod three feet in length.  It had leather straps at each end, and she knelt and fastened Heather's left ankle to one end of the rod.  The right ankle was not as easy.  Heather realized what was happening and tried to keep the spreading of her legs from taking place.  But Mallory was patient, and in a matter of minutes, Heather's right ankle was firmly strapped to the other end.  This new factor raised her even higher onto her toes, her legs now shaking under the strain.

   “HUGO, I HAVE A JOB FOR YOU,” Mallory shouted.

   There was a sound of footsteps entering the room.

   Heather saw who she presumed to be Hugo.  He was a giant of a man, at least six and a half feet tall, and probably close to 300 lbs.  He was naked, had a chiseled physique, and a schlong the size of Cuba.

   “I gather you can see why we call him Hugo,” Mallory laughed.

   Heather struggled against her bonds.  Hugo, for his part became erect almost immediately, his massive erection allowed to take shape directly in front of Heather's eyes.  Mallory grabbed a bottle of lubricant and spread it liberally into the palm of her hand.  Walking behind Heather, she cupped her hand against the bound girls exposed and spread sex, rubbing the slick moisture around and between the lips of her labia.  The leftover liquid was rubbed onto Hugo's  growing member, assisting with its rapid deployment.

   “Hugo here is one of our security forces,” Mallory stated.  “He has developed mentally to the level of a third grader, but as you can see his physical development didn't end there.”

   Mallory walked back around in front of Heather.

   “Two things he loves are food and sex,” she laughed.  “And he just ate.”

   Mallory nodded to Hugo, who slowly walked around behind the terrified   blonde.

   “When he is done, he has sibling who will take up where he left off,” Mallory went on.  “Then we'll see if perhaps you are in more of a mood to chat.”

   Mallory walked towards the door.

   “I'll check back in and hour or so love,” she called

   Heather didn't know whether that last comment was directed at her or Hugo,  but as she felt his massive manhood press at her exposed opening the urge to figure it out magically vanished.  She screamed into her gag as the man's length slid into her, and she bit down hard on the rubber gag.

   Hugo at last pulled himself free.  His grunts and groans told Heather that he was finally spent.  It took that to know, because the sheer size of him made feeling anything else secondary.  Hugo examined the fine specimen in front of him.  He was occasionally allowed the spoils of war.  But seldom were the rewards as pleasing to the eye.  The girl had a spectacular ass.  The way it clenched and unclenched, an involuntary reflex due to the size of what had just penetrated her, was arousing him once again.  He leaned  against her from behind, his hands reaching around and fondling her large breasts.  Heather thought for a moment he was about to enter her again, but then he stepped away.  He walked around front and used her soft   blonde hair to clean himself. 

   He noticed she was trying to speak to him.  There was no harm in removing her gag, so her freed her mouth from the hard rubber, pulling the gag free with a pop.

   Heather moved her jaws back and forth for a time.

   “Free my arms,” Heather said at last.

   That brought a hearty chuckle from Hugo.

   “Seriously,” Heather quipped, “I can do so much more for you with my hands free.”

   Hugo mulled it over.  There was surely little to worry about.  A beautiful naked woman less than half his size.  Surely it couldn't hurt .

   “Look, if your afraid of me, go get your brothers and get on with this,” Heather said disgustedly, throwing her proverbial eggs in one basket.

   That barb seemed to work.  Hugo went to the counter nearby and picked up a pair of snips.  He cut through the cord holding the girls arms painfully raised behind her, catching her as she teetered.  He laid her on the floor, releasing her legs form the spreader bar, before snipping through the sisal at her wrists and elbows.  Heather's arm flopped lifeless to the floor.  Hugo began to rub at her raw elbows, his hands feeling the ridges left in her skin from the thin cord.  It was a good 10 minutes or so, and Heather was beginning to fear that Mallory would return before she regained any feeling, but gradually the sharp pin-pricks of returning circulation gave way.

   Heather got to her feet, Hugo anxious to see what she had in store for him.

   “OK, your turn,” Hugo said, his eye like a kid at Christmas.

   “My turn,” Heather echoed.

   She walked over to him, her hands reaching for his penis.  She grabbed him, gently, rubbing his member which once again sprang to attention.  Hugo started giggling, the whole thing a perceived game.  Then Heather grabbed his testicles and squeezed hard.  Hugo groaned and bent over, only to be met by a knee to the nose.  The crunch of bone could be heard, and as Hugo's hand shot up towards his nose, blood began to soak his palms.  He looked at the   blonde with astonishment, only to see a blur of her foot just before it smacked into his temple.  Then everything went black.

   “Hugo, what in the hell have you done?” Mallory screamed. 

   The floor of the room was littered with severed cords, and blood.

   “She hurt me,” Hugo sniffed.

   “Oh you poor dumb bastard,” Mallory yelled.  “MARCUS, JEROME, GET IN HERE.”

   From a distance could be heard the approach of running feet.  Two young men bust onto the scene, quickly going to their fallen comrade.

   “I'll tend to him,” Mallory hissed.  “See if you can find the girl.”

   The two started walking towards the door.

   “HURRY DAMNIT,” Mallory snarled.

   The two broke into a run as Mallory pulled a cell phone from her pocket.

   “Marla, bring the chopper,” she said.  “Unless something changes, we'll have to abandon this post.”

   She listened for a minute.

   “Why?  Because that half-breed cousin of yours let her get the best of him, that's why,” she said irritated.

   She listened again.

   “Don't worry, I have a plan.  We'll get her back,” Mallory said.  Then she hung up.

   She walked to the door and looked out the window in the hallway.

   “I have a good plan,” she said with a wicked laugh.

TO BE CONTINUED......

   Heather Duncan slid into the leather recliner and picked up the phone.  It had been an embarrassing ordeal.  Checking into the hotel in nothing more than a short bathrobe had caught the attention of more than a handful of onlookers.  The twelve mile jog naked to get there had been worse.  At dawn, she had managed to steal the nightgown off a clothesline.  It was at least two sizes too small, but it served the purpose of sparing her from being arrested.  At this point, she didn't know who was on her side, and a run-in with the police was the last thing she needed.  The hotel clerk was another thing.  She had to call headquarters and then have them pay for her stay with a credit card.  In her room, she had taken a hot bath, rubbing at her weary muscles, before ordering room service.  Then she made another call to headquarters.  After running an over the line scan to make certain the line was clean, they got to what was needed. She would need clothes, a new location, transportation, and money.  She wanted surveillance photos taken, and gave them the co-ordinates.  Mallory was probably long gone, but they may turn up something of interest.  And she would need a masseuse.

   They assured Heather they would take care of her in short order.  They ordered her to get some rest.

She hung up for a time, then called them back. There was one more thing.  She wanted protection for her sister Samantha.  Their agents would be busy today, but they would have them on site first thing tomorrow.  Heather thanked them and hung up.

   Alicia Monroe never knew what hit her.  One second she had climbed the stairs to the practice loft, and the next she was grabbed and held from behind.  She started to scream, but a meaty palm across her mouth mostly muffled it.  She felt something hard pressed against the front of her mouth.  She tried to resist opening her jaw, but the device was pressed so hard against her lips that she began to taste blood.  When she did part her lips to relieve the pressure, whatever had been held against her lips was forced inside her, and buckled ferociously in place.  It was extremely large, and uncomfortable.  Because she had not gotten the opportunity to turn the lights on, she didn't know how many attackers there were.  She reached for the object that had just been fastened so tightly in place, but her hands were snatched out of mid-air.  She was taken to the floor, her wrists bent brutally high behind her back.  Someone very large knelt in the center of her back.

   “Okay,” she heard a man say.

   With her wrist held, palms together up near the base of her neck, she felt some thin cord being wrapped around her wrists. 

   “Good,” she heard.  “Now wrap it around to keep her hands there.” 

   She was moved to a sitting position as these words were spoken.  The cord securing her wrists was wrapped tightly around her upper arms and body above her breasts, digging deep into the flesh, and forcing her arms into an even more severe position.  After the cord had been passed about her body a half dozen times or so, it was cinched and tied off at her wrists.  Alicia groaned into the gag, her arms straining uselessly in an attempt to find a more comfortable position.

   She was at last able to see in the dim light the shapes of two men, both very large.  Her arms were on fire.  To her horror, the man who held her slipped his hand inside the tank-top, his hands groping her breasts through the athletic bra.

   “Wow, feel these,” he said, pulling her shirt up over her breasts.

   His companion was eager to comply.  He ripped the bra off, marveling at the rounded flesh, and the pierced nipples beneath.

   “Let's get her naked,” he grinned.

   Alicia fought back, attempting to get to her feet.  She was grabbed by the hair and held down, as one of the men ripped the tank top, casting it to the side.  She was rolled to her belly.  One of the men grabbed her ankles, holding them down.  She felt cold steel at the crack f her ass, then groaned into her gag as it sliced through the waist of her short spandex shorts.  They were pulled out from under her.  The cotton briefs were next, the thin fabric lasting no time in the face of the onslaught.  Her athletic shoes were next, and then the socks.  The men stood.  Alicia was snorting through her gag, her eyes wild.  There was no sympathy in the eyes of the men.  Once again they came towards her.  In a natural reflex, her bare foot shot out, catching one of the men oh his shin. He cursed her.  She scrambled awkwardly to her feet, staggered, then attempted to flee.  Moving with a quickness that belied his size, the other man grabbed her by her raven tresses, and hurled her to the floor. 

   “Let's see there's no more of that,” he growled.

   His comrade had quit rubbing his shin.  While the first man grabbed and crossed her ankles, the other bound them tightly leaving a long trailing end, which was run up and through the cords holding Alicia's upper arms.  Working like a team at some kind of girl-roping rodeo, the man holding her ankles knelt on her back and jerked her ankles high behind her, while the other man pulled out the slack.  Alecia moaned into her gag as her body was bowed.  They pulled her ankles impossibly high, placing her in a crippling hogtie.  At last they could bend her no more, her ankles within a couple feet of her shoulders, and the cord was tied off.  Alecia toppled immediately to her side.  Because her ankles were crossed, her legs were spread widely apart.  The men toyed with her tightly bound body.  The man whose shin she kicked knelt and rubbed his meaty finger through her slit.   He parted her plump flesh, sticking first one, then two fingers inside.  Alicia clenched her eyes shut, unable to offer any resistance due to the extreme position she was tied into.  Then he removed his fingers,  inspecting the thin, neatly trimmed wisp of pubic hair.  Her belly piercing was examined, the man tugging on it gently, then apparently satisfied, left it to dangle.   Eventually she was dragged behind a waist high partition, and her torn tank top was tied over her existing gag.  The men left her there, slipping out a side door into the hallway, leaving the nude, tightly bound teen in the dark.

   Sixteen year old Samantha Duncan bounced across the street.  She and best friend Alicia Monroe always were the first ones there for cheer-leading practice.  As the only sophomores on the team, it was their duty to see that everything was ready before the juniors and seniors showed up.  It was something she always looked forward to, because it gave her some time to converse with her friend without others around.

   Alicia and Samantha had grown up together.  They were as similar in their mutual interests as they were different in appearance, though both were on the small side.  Alicia was the athlete.  5'1'' 112 lbs, dark shoulder length hair, dark eyes.  Her legs were probably her strong suit, though the rest wasn't shabby.  Her breasts were nice, not overly large, or even large for that matter.  But they were noticeable.  They had recently swollen to a 33-C measurement, and had begun to bob on her chest.  Her waist, a trim23 inches was toned and had the sleek rippling associated with an exercise regiment, while her hips flared out to a solid 34 inches.

     Four foot ten inch, 92 pound Samantha had accepted the fact that all the “big” genes in the Duncan family had been used up on sister Heather.  Not that Heather was big necessarily, but just that Samantha was what she was.  But she was no less a knockout.  Her brief denim shorts, cut off to display a bit of cheek, made her shapely legs look stunning. Until she was 13 years of age, Samantha had what would be considered a boyish figure.  Pretty much straight up and down.  But then things began to change.  Her hips began to widen, her chest to swell, and she allowed her hair to grow.  She had grey eyes, and waist length blonde hair like her sisters.  It was normally a shade darker, but their recent trip to Cabo had bleached it to the same platinum color as Heather's, and left her deeply tanned.  She carried her gym bag which held in it a towel, and her sports bra and athletic shoes. For the time being she was bra-less under the white T-shirt with pink lettering that said “Sam I Am.”  It had been a gift from her sister, who had always affectionately called her Sam.  She would put her bra on later, in the dressing room.  Her 32” B-cup breasts really needed no support, but she liked to wear some sort when vigorously exercising.  Her waist was a minuscule 21 inches, and her hips  31.”

   Samantha bounded up the steps, and opened the door to the loft.  She was puzzled to see the light off.    Alicia was always there first.  But she shrugged her shoulders, and flipped the three switches on the panel just inside the door.  She walked to cabinet against the far wall, opened it, and looked through the CD's.  She had picked a couple out, when a muffled noise caught her attention from across the room.  At first she thought it had to be from the department store downstairs, but then she realized it wouldn't open until noon.  She set the CD's down, and walked over to investigate.  At first, she saw nothing.  She was about to turn when she heard it again.  It sounded as if it was just beyond the partitioning separating the main area from a kitchenette.  She walked to the partitioning and peered over.

   “Oh my god Alicia,” Samantha gasped.

   On the floor, totally nude and bound into what had to be a most painful position was her friend.  She quickly moved around the wall and knelt by her.

   “What happened?  Who did this to you?” she cried, as if Alicia could possibly tell her anything.

   Samantha tried tugging on the knotted leather, quickly realizing there was no chance of undoing them.

   “Damn, I'll have to get something to cut you free with,” she cursed.

   Alicia was squealing through her gag.

   “Oh, I can't even tell what you want,” Samantha whimpered.  “I'll be right back.”

   She stood from her bound friend.  Unable to take her eyes off of Alicia, she gripped the partition, using it as a “crutch” as she moved.  She had gone a few feet when she ran against something.  She started to move by it, unaware for the moment that this object occupied space where there should have been nothing.

    “How sweet,” a mans voice interrupted her stupor.  “Blondie to the rescue.”

   Samantha gasped, looking around, then up into a mans face.  He was tall, at least six and a half feet.

   “You've got to help my friend,” Samantha pleaded.

   “Oh really,” the man grinned.

   The horrible truth hit her like a brick.

   “You did this, didn't you?” she asked shrinking back away from the man.

   He stepped towards her.

   “Helllll..............” she started to yell, turning to flee.

   Her cry was cut short by a second man who had come up behind her, clamping his hand over her mouth.

   “Another fly in the web huh Marcus,” the man said.

   He spun the young blond around, gripping her arms from behind.  Samantha squirmed a bit, but it was as if she were held in a vice.  His partner approached her.  Her breasts were providing an obvious target, and he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass.  He ran his hands over her breasts as the girl made muffled squeals from behind the hand.

   “Better get her gagged,” the one called Marcus said.

   His partner nodded.  Marcus pulled a massive ball gag from his pocket, and held it up in front of the hand currently covering Samantha's mouth.  The man holding the blond girl moved his hand away, grabbing a hunk of her hair, and pulling.  Samantha got out a small shriek, but it died quickly as the gag was forced into her open mouth.  Samantha's eyes widened at the recognition of how wide apart her jaws were forced to go to accept the thing, and again at how tightly it was buckled once it was actually seated behind her teeth.

   “Now scream you little cunt,” the man holding her said.

   Marcus continued his massaging of her tits.

   “What's underneath this, Sam I Am?” Marcus taunted her.

   Samantha close her eyes as her favorite T-shirt was ripped from her body.  Her small, firm tits sprang into view, the nipples high and to the outside by virtue of her arms being held behind her. 

   “Oh yes,” Marcus said pinching them.

   In spite of their small size, they were beautiful breasts, residing wonderfully at the top of her rib-cage.  Her slightly puffy nipples seemed to invite one towards them.

   “My, my, my,” he continued.

   He worked on them for several seconds, before nodding to his brother.  Samantha's arms were held up in the air behind her, the man easily gripping her slender wrists in a single hand, forcing the blond to bend over.  He held there while his partner looped a thin black leather belt around her biceps mid way between her elbows and shoulders.  He took a couple of wraps, then buckled it tight, pressing her elbows tightly together, as well as the flesh several inches above.  Samantha's arms felt like they were in a vice.

   “What a great ass,” the man said holding her.

   With her arms pulled strapado-like behind her much of Samantha's ass was sticking out of her denim cut offs and rubbing against his crotch, and he was obviously enjoying it.

   “Get those shorts off,” Marcus grinned.

   “Later” the other man said.  “We better get before the posse arrives.”

   “I suppose you're right.” Marcus said.

   While the man holding Samantha fastened a short leather belt around the blond girl's wrists, the other man went to the painfully restrained Alecia.  He first cut through the cord holding her in the stringent hogtie, then sliced those holding her crossed ankles together.  The relief on the young girls face spoke volumes of what she had endured as they had waited for her friend.

   Without much ado, the two young girls were loaded onto a freight elevator at the back of the loft.  It opened to a seldom used alley-way at the back, and there they were loaded into a van.  Both girls were tossed to the floor of the van, followed by the two men who quickly and very tightly bound their necks to their knees.  Then their ankles were crossed and bound tightly as well.  Satisfied the young teens were helpless, the men sat in the front, started the van, and drove away.

   Heather Duncan set the glass of wine on the concrete rail, and gazed out over the 18 hole championship golf course below.  Perhaps tomorrow she would get in a round.  But then, that depended on how tonight went.  A private jet had flown her several hundred miles west to a fund-raiser.  It felt good to be back home in southern California.  She had a lot of memories from there.  She had been advised against going, but the thought of missing such an extravagant party was too much to bear.  Her job was to gain access to a safe in a second floor bedroom of a local millionaire.  Not to steal the rather amazing stash of jewelry there, but instead to ascertain his association with FIRM.  If their intel was correct, there would be incriminating evidence there, and they not only wanted to confirm or deny his association with FIRM, but also to get photographs of that evidence.

   Heather donned a short-haired black wig, and wore her sexiest black mini-the one that molded her large breasts attractively, slipped into her black stiletto heeled sandals, and went as Herbert Moore's date.  Herbert was a local, totally unaware who Heather was.  He had gone through a local escort agency and obtained her services for $1000.  The rest was left to FIT to  fill in.  Herbert was a family-made millionaire.  Little he did made even a small impact positively on his fathers company.  But none of that kept him from living the high life. He liked looking the part of intellectual playboy, even if he didn’t fit the bill. 

   Herbert liked his booze.  A lot.  So Heather hastened the inevitable by slipping a nasty little sedative in Herbert’s drink.  As he became affected, Heather schmoozed him out of the main party area, and into on of the vacant coat closets.  There she did the small stuff such as kissing, letting him paw at her breasts, rubbing his crotch.  In short order, Herbert was asleep, and Heather ruffled up his clothes to appear as if he just had a good fuck, and then locked him in the closet.

   She slipped out unnoticed, gliding cat-like up the grand staircase to the upper bedrooms.  She knew she would have to be quick, so she punched in the code she’d been given to the combination deadbolt, and slipped into the master suite.  Heather tiptoed over to the Picasso hanging on the wall, wondering briefly whether it was a print or the original, and carefully lifted it from the its place.  She smiled.  It was, as she had been told, covering a safe.

   “OK folks, here goes,” the beautiful blonde whispered to herself.

______________________________________________________________________________

   “Nice work guys,” Mallory smiled.  “I think the tide has just turned in our favor.”

   Mallory wore her black leather cat-suit and brandished a mean looking plastic switch which she was taking a good deal of delight in swishing back and forth.  She walked over to the naked Alicia and pinched her nipples.  The helpless young teen whimpered and tried to shrink back, but the men prevented her from it.  Her arms were still strictly tied behind her, wrists up at her neck in a severe reverse-prayer.  They were in a small, well lit room somewhere about five hours from where they started their trip.

   “Aren’t you a luscious little thing,”Mallory whispered walking over to Samantha.  “Absolutely beautiful.”

   Mallory’s hands explored the naked flesh before her.  Her hands went to the waist of the tight denim cut offs still worn by the blonde girl.  As she tried to slip her fingers inside the waistband, Samantha pulled away.  Mallory nodded to the two men, who immediately pounced on the bound teen, and in seconds had her totally naked as well, exposing her neatly trimmed pubic area.  She stood panting, her small firm breasts heaving, glaring at the woman in front of her.

   “Oh my,” Mallory chuckled.  “Such a frightful little beast.  Hold her boys.”

   The men eagerly complied.  Mallory slipped her hands between the frightened girls legs, her fingers seeking out the warm sensitive flesh and probing inside.  Samantha was horrified as she felt the women go straight for her clitoris, her strong fingers pinching the flesh in a knowing fashion.

   “Not easily aroused huh?” Mallory chided the young blonde, removing her fingers.

   It would have been almost impossible to find the current circumstances remotely arousing.

   “Take Princess there to my room,” Mallory instructed the men motioning towards Alicia.  “I’m going to have a little fun with Sweet Tits here.”

   Samantha watched with a sinking heart as her friend was hauled away.  The situation was no more dire than while Alicia was there with her, but there seemed to be some sense of security having her close.

   “Now for you,” Mallory hissed, grabbing several hunks of thin sisal.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Jonathon Sears woke from his sleep.  He wasn’t quite sure what it was, maybe just a draft across his chest where it emerged from the sheets.  He lay still for a minute, then quietly swung his legs over the side of the bed.  He slept nude, and the thought of confronting someone almost made him slip into something, but there wasn’t anything handy so he proceeded as he was.  He peered out the bedroom door and down the hallway.  Nothing.  He turned back around in time to see a form dart from the far side of the bed, attempting to flee past him.  He swung at the person, but they ducked under the blow, delivering one of their own to his mid-section.  It caught him by surprise.  He threw another punch, but this one was slipped as well, and a spinning side kick knocked him back against the door frame.  Again the form tried to move past him.  Sensing he was the bigger of the two, he grabbed the fleeing burglar, the two of them crashing to the bed.  It was then, as the two bodies fell, that he felt the firm bulges that indicated his assailant had breasts.  This was getting weird.  In the moonlight coming through the window he made out some shapely tanned legs, the feet bare.  He grabbed the woman from behind, and tried to wrestle her down beneath him, but she was slippery.  She spun out from his grasp, his hands gripping the light weight T-shirt, and he heard the brittle material rip free.  Beneath it she was braless, her large breasts jiggling, he tried to get a look at the face, but she once again darted by him.  His hand shot out grabbing the back of her lightweight cotton shorts.  He swung her around once again towards the bed, and the effort ripped the shorts free.  The woman bounced across the bed, springing to her feet on the other side.  She danced lightly around the bed, and Jonathon could see some pronounced tan-lines, evidence she not only wore no bra, but had no panties on either.

   The woman went on the offensive as another spinning kick caught Jonathon in the small of the back.  As he fell towards the bed, he reached out and grabbed the woman’s arm pulling her onto the bed with him.  He was under her now, her large breasts pressed against his chest, and he found that wrestling naked women had an arousal factor.  She worked her way quickly up, grape-vining his legs and spreading them apart.  He caught her scent.  Her warm crotch was pressed against his stomach.  His erection grew.  She released his legs scooting down his body while at the same time raising her hips off him.  He was breathing heavily as he felt her lower herself onto him, impaling his aching cock deep inside her.  They lay there like that for a time, silent. Her vaginal muscles massaged him bringing him more erect.  Then she began to move rhythmically up and down, slowly at first, then with a vigor of passion.  He grabbed her beautiful breasts, squeezing them as she moaned with pleasure.  She spun around onto her back as he worked himself into her.  After a few minutes they moaned together, each one shaking with the spent pleasure. 

   They were silent for a time.  At last he reached out, running his hands through her platinum hair.

   “Hey babe,” he said at last.

   “When did you know it was me?” Heather giggled.

   “I think it was the breasts,” he chuckled, running his finger around her nipple.  “Or, maybe it was the world class butt,” he continued, grabbing at her firm, round butt.

   Heather kissed him long and deep.

   “It’s been too long,” she whispered.

   Jonathon nodded.

   It had been a year.  That was when Heather left to pursue the life she now was immersed in.  That was when her parents had been murdered, spawning the whole change.  Each was silent for a time, their minds dwelling on all that could have been.

   “How long you around for?” Jonathon asked at last.

   “Not long,” Heather said sadly, propping herself up to look into his eyes.

   Jonathon rubbed his hands over his eyes and through his hair.

   “I figured,” he sighed.  He reached out and drew her near, her warm lush body once again relaxing.  “Let’s just enjoy it while we can.”

   Heather lay in his arms, a tear forming unseen by her mate, and rolling down her cheek.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Samantha Duncan squealed into her gag as the plastic switch fell sharply across her tits.

   “Save it,” Mallory hissed.  “I’ve only just begun.”

   The young teen snuffled through her gag.  She had thought it couldn’t get much worse than being totally stripped, and tightly and humiliatingly bound, but she had been wrong.  Again the switch fell across her breasts.

   She was seated, if one could call it that, on a crude wooden chair in the center of the room.  The plastic ties had all been removed, but they were replaced by the thin sisal which cut even more cruelly into her flesh.  Her wrists and arms were still behind her, elbows crushed together.  That had happened before she was seated.  When Mallory brought the chair out from the closet, Samantha’s eyes had widened.  Protruding from the middle of the chair was a phallus, pink in color, huge, and ribbed, and oiled.  Taped against it was the head of an electric vibrator angled out towards the front of the chair.  Mallory set the chair where she wanted it and then order the frightened girl over to it.  When she balked, Mallory grabbed her by a nipple, and forcefully escorted her there. It took some time, but at last Mallory was able to coerce Samantha down onto it.  Samantha of course, had no real choice in the matter as her nipple was pinched viciously until she complied. It was a slow but steady trip down, her eyes clenching as each ribbed edge of the thing slipped inside her.  At last the young girls clit was stopped from going any lower by the vibrator, and while the rest of her settled the inch or so lower onto the seat of the chair, it stayed slightly above that, squarely on the flexible surface, while her labia was draped around and about the head of the device.  Samantha wasn’t sure if she could have pulled herself off of it without some help, but Mallory wasn’t about to give her the chance.  She quickly tied each ankle tightly to its corresponding  upper thigh.  Then she swung the young blonde’s arms up behind her, tying her wrists to the top of the chair back, and keeping Samantha bent slightly forward . A cord running between her big toes was tied around the top of the chair back keeping them awkwardly in check.

   “Now Sweet Tits, have you ever been vibed before?” Mallory hissed. 

   Samantha just glared at her tormentor, drool spilling down her gag.

   “That’s the second time you’ve given me that look,” Mallory warned her. 

   Seconds later another blow fell across the young girls tits.  Samantha squirmed what little she could, her tits an agonizing stipe of pain.  She felt the woman’s hands between her thighs, and in the next instant she was forgetting all about the pain.  The vibrator came alive, and the young girls fingers began to clench and unclench almost immediately.  The discomfort of being impaled on the pink monster was being countered dramatically by the vibrations coursing against her sensitive clit.

   “Oh you little slut, you like it don’t you?” Mallory chuckled as the tiny nipples became erect on Samantha’s chest.  “Good.  We have some things we’d like to do to you, some things others might be interested in seeing.  I always like to think an audition is in order before the big show.”

   The words barely registered with Samantha, so intense were the sensations coursing through her young body.  Mallory’s hand reached between her spread thighs, and a moment later the vibrator increased in pitch.  Samantha was now quivering.  Drool was spilling down her chest and Mallory began to tug and pluck at the young girls hardened nipples, at the same time bending down to nibble on the aroused girls ear. 

   “I am SOOOO going to enjoy you,” Mallory whispered.

1   Heather Duncan did the Southern California thing for the day.  She rented a BMW roadster and went town to town, parking and walking, shopping when it pleased her, and sitting on the beach when the urge to do that came along.  It was the kind of relaxing day that she had not known for some time.  She had dropped off her microfilm with a F.I.T operative first thing in the morning, then checked into a seaside motel.  From there she had done some shopping, and even took time to drink a beer.  It was a typical day.  High was to be 84, with a soft ocean breeze.  She wore a pair of lightweight white shorts, with light brown platform sandals, and a sleeveless, light blue cotton shirt, with a plunging blue V cut in front. 

   By mid afternoon she had had her fill, and made her way back to the motel.  She was about to change into her spandex outfit and embark on her daily yoga routine, but wanted to check her email account first.  There was no chatter on the secure F.I.T account, but she decided to check her personal email.  It was held under a fictitious name.  Not even the agency knew of it.  Mostly it was used to communicate with her sister Sam, and a few other close friends. 

   She was somewhat surprised to see a handful of messages, all from the same anonymous sender.  At first she thought they were probably spam, but curiosity got the best of her.  The first thing she noticed when she opened one was the link to a file-sharing site.  There was a note with it that said simply “Friends and Family.”  The file was a 7-part file, and all seven had to be downloaded and connected to form the large single file.  Heather chuckled, wondering what friend had been clever enough to put something like this together.  She decided to use the agency credit card to purchase an account because she realized such a large file would take the better part of the day to download. 

   As it was, it still took a good 15 minutes to download the multiple files.  At last she connected the files, coming up with a single WMV file.  She clicked on the icon and lay across the bed, the laptop in front of her, to view it.  It was a high definition clip, and rather simply done.  “What’s That Buzz?” the title flashed across the screen.  “Starring–Alicia Monroe.”  Heather smiled at the name of her sisters best friend.  She assumed this was something they put together at school.  “Featuring–Sam-I-Am,” it continued.  “This film has to be watched in its entirety.  If you try to fast forward, it will revert to the point where it was previously.  We cannot guarantee that no-one was harmed in the making of this film.  Now then, grab some popcorn and enjoy.”

   This part was puzzling.  Sam did not have a particularly morbid sense of humor.  Heather thought there was something wrong with the audio as the noise was muffled.  The film started with a pointed set of toes just inches off a wooden floor.  They were lovely pink painted toenails, and seemed to be quivering, as if straining to touch the floor.  The camera panned up the foot, the toes curling and spreading apart slightly.  Heather gasped.  At the ankle, there was rope.  Thin rope cutting into the flesh, knotted on the outside of the ankle with the trailing end vanishing from view.  The camera continued up past the ankles, the slender calf, the knee, the tanned thigh.  As the camera rose Heather could now see that the leg was angled back and out away from whatever the victim was seated on.  Now a second form was introduced.  Heather gasped again.  More tight cord fastened the two obviously female forms together at the waist.  The camera panned back slightly.  They were fastened belly-to-belly with tight, thin cord.  It was apparent the cord had been cinched together across their bellies in front, then those cinch cords went down and around something.  As the camera continued back Heather could see that the cord went around some type of a bar.  The two had been bound together with their legs tied widely apart and somewhat back, and were forced down onto some sort of a bar or rod a few inches in diameter.   Next the camera zeroed in on a pair of wrists, also tightly bound.  The fingers wiggled slightly, but mostly they were still.  The camera panned down the arms to the elbows.  Heather winced.  They were tied so tightly together with thin sisal that a portion of the cord appeared buried in the flesh.  Once again the camera panned back slowly.  Heather could see that the arms were bound behind the back, and raised at a painful angle putting strain on the victims shoulders. The camera panned down the back of the first figure, streaks of sweat flowing over the slender hips and down the thighs.  It then moved more to the side, and slowly traversed upwards past the rib cages pressed firmly together.  The breasts began to come into view.  They too were pressed tightly against one another.  A hand appeared for the sole purpose of separating the breasts just far enough for Heather to see that the nipples of each girl were  tied together where they met with thin cord.  The camera continued up, and panned out.  Heather’s mouth dropped open.  There, with their mouths pressed practically together, jaws strapped to a double penis gag, were Samantha Duncan and Alicia Monroe.  As the camera panned back, Heather noticed for the first time a background humming noise.  Finally she could take in the scene in its entirety.  The girls were bound belly to belly, then forced to straddle a rail mounted between two supports, with their sex firmly planted on that rail and forced down onto it by the cinch cord from the bellies.  Their ankles angled back and out and down in such a fashion to further force them down onto the rail.  Then the arm bondage re-enforced their predicament.  Their thighs glistened in the bright media lighting, and Heather knew it wasn’t entirely from perspiration. 

   “Quite a lovely pair don’t you think?” came Mallory’s voice as she walked into view.

   Heather about choked.  She certainly knew how to play a role.  She was dressed like a professional dominatrix in a leather thong, thigh-high stiletto heels, and peekaboo bra which exposed her stiff nipples.  Mallory ran her hands down each girls thigh, pushing against them to show how strenuously wide each leg had been spread.  The two teens seemed to be in a heightened state of arousal.

   “So Duncan, you remember that stuff that was developed some time ago as a having possible communications ramifications.  It was a type of titanium hybrid?” Mallory continued.

   Heather nodded, as if she was being spoken to within the room.

   “It was finally moth-balled in favor of the fiber optic revolution, but our organization still owns a good bit of it,” she said touching the bar the two girls were straddling.   “We found that by introducing any type of metal to the mixture, in this case it’s flecks of aluminum, it increased the products ability to respond to certain outside forces dramatically.  For instance, when we set this dial to a low setting, as it is now, it sends vibrations into that bar which then doubles the effect.  And it increases exponentially.”

   The camera zoomed in as Mallory turned the dial clockwise.  The humming increased, as did the reactions of the two troubled girls riding the apparatus.

   “At this level, the output is four times the input,” Mallory said smiling.

   The camera panned up, closing in on each girls face.  Their eyes were clenching shut, drool spilling from each mouth fell onto their chests and ran together.  The camera then panned back, focusing on each of the girls legs.  They were trembling, both from strain, and from the pleasures assaulting their bodies.  The girls moans became more audible as the vibrations increased.  Alicia was straining her toes against the thin coarse cord, trying in vain to gain purchase of the floor, but to no avail.  The girls came numerous times, each one following closely on the heels of the last as the wicked pole never allowed either girl a moment to recover.  If one girls pleasure seemed to lag a bit, Mallory would reach her hand between their legs and with her middle finger and fore-finger, force the lips of their labia down around more of the pole.  Any respite that may have been allowed the victim stood no chance against the added sensations forced on her by these actions.  As if anything could be left to doubt, the camera dropped down towards the floor, then panned up both sets of tanned legs so Heather could see exactly what was happening to each of the girls up where they rested on the pole.  Each girls sex went practically halfway around the pole, meaning every sensitive  area of flesh made contact with it.

   “OK Duncan,” Mallory said turning the control dial up another notch, “let’s get down to business.  As much as I’d like our guests to stay a while, it’s really your company we desire.  So if you were to make yourself available, I will assure you we would agree to part company with Sweet Alicia and the luscious Sam-I-Am.”

   Mallory walked over to the girls and brushed the hair away from their faces.

   “In the meantime, we will use this opportunity to incorporate these lovely lasses into some of our more intensive training sessions,” Mallory continued.

   She walked away from the girls and towards the camera, her heels clacking against the floor.

   “The next step is yours Sweetheart,” Mallory smiled.  “I’m rather certain you can figure out how to make contact with us.”

   “Until then....” Mallory finished, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

   With that, she turned and returned towards the girls, her lovely ass swaying back and forth as she went.  The screen fade out with that last bit of theater, leaving Heather speechless.  She climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom afraid she might hyperventilate.  She started to curse herself, but then stopped.  That would serve no purpose.  What mattered was that her sister and best friend had fallen into the clutches of some of the world’s worst villains, and for now, she was their only hope.  Panic now, and their could be even worse things ahead.  She needed to think clearly.  Using methods taught her in training, she lowered her heart-rate and slowed her breathing.  Then she began to go through her options.  An hour later she had formulated an outline of what needed to happen.  A select few of her closest confidants would have to find out what was going on.  But not those at the top.  They would have to wait.  Her first call went to her close friend Keri Thompkins. 

______________________________________________________________________________

   “Are you OK?” Keri asked.

   Heather nodded.  They had just watched the video together. 

   “I don’t know,” Keri said.  “I can do some analysis on it freelance.  I’m sure they were careful, but we have developed some rather amazing technologies.”

   Heather again nodded.

   “Look, let me download this, take it with me, and I’ll run it through some locator programs,” she said.  “I’ll call you first thing in the morning.”

   Heather sighed, and nodded.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Mallory Marcott pulled up on the nipples of the helpless brunette then released them, laughing as she toppled over onto the floor.

   “You’re such a klutz,” she chided Alicia.

   Klutz probably didn’t describe the situation aptly.  Remaining seated under the circumstances would have required an almost superhuman effort.  Alicia was once again uncomfortably bound.  She was naked except for the red leather high heel pumps she wore.  Mallory had bound her yoga style, her feet resting on the opposite leg where her upper thigh met her hip.  Her ankles were bound where they crossed with black rubber coated wire.  The wire pulled her ankles up near her belly by more of the same, which looped over a brutally tight waist cinch.  It then dove southward, slicing through her cunt before coming out the back and attaching to Alicia’s wrists.  More of the black wire held the girls elbows glued together and fastened to a harness of the stuff that framed her jutting breasts in a bra shaped fashion.  In her mouth was a ball gag at least an inch bigger than she should have been able tolerate, and pulled so deeply it seemed to begin where her tonsils left off.  The act of falling over caused her wrists to jerk against their bindings, which in turn pulled the wire even deeper into her cunt. 

   There was a commotion at the door, and Mallory turned to see what it was.  A woman and a man entered, the woman carrying a bound and gagged Samantha over her shoulder, followed closely by the man.  The tiny blonde was bound with leather, wrists to ankles in front of her.  Further up her elbows were lashed tightly to her knees  She was gagged with her own long,  blonde hair wrapped twice around her mouth and knotted.  Dirt and scratches, along with a sheen of sweat, covered her lovely form. The girl carrying Samantha was an impressive specimen.  She had long dark brown hair to the middle of her back, and striking blue eyes.  There was a glint to the eyes that was both intelligent and devious, and it came with a physique that could only be obtained with regimented exercise.  She wore a stylish straw cowboy hat, short denim cut offs, comfort style leather cowboy boots, and a light blue athletic top.  She tossed the helpless blonde bundle to the floor near Mallory.

   “Nicely done, Jamie,” Mallory beamed.

   “Only took her a minute and a half,” the man smiled.  “She’s good.  We filmed it as you asked.”

   Mallory inspected the bonds for a minute, then dismissed the woman.

   “Want her to try out this one?” the man said motioning towards Alicia.

   “No, I think I’ve seen enough.  Tell Jamie to take the afternoon off, and let her keep the little blonde,” Mallory said, walking towards the tightly bound brunette.  “I think we’ll give the twins a shot at this one.  A little tune-up for what I have in mind.”

   The man smiled. 

   “Oh yes, the twins,” he grinned. “They’ve progressed quite nicely.  Think they’re up for that kind of challenge?”

   “We shall see,” Mallory grinned.

______________________________________________________________________________

   “I have some good news,” Keri’s voice came over the phone.  “Of course, you have to realize there wasn’t much to go on, but we feel there were some clues.”

   Heather let out a sigh of relief.  Technology could do some amazing things.  Pinpointing a location within a few yards of any point on the globe with just a bit of video was astounding. 

   “All right, shoot,” Heather replied. 

   Then for the next fifteen minutes, she listened

  

______________________________________________________________________________

   Samantha whimpered as the thin leather attached to her nipples was pulled on again, prompting her tongue to move at an even faster pace through the horrid ring gag tightly fastened in her mouth.  She knelt on the floor, coarse hemp rope binding her biceps behind her back.  Her wrists were free, but that minor luxury did her no good.  Her arms were so tightly bound that her elbows pressed against one another, her numbed arms below that point splayed out slightly, fingers mostly still.  Her big toes had been tied together, and the trailing end brought up to the back of the gag.  This accomplished a couple of things her captor found useful.  One, it kept her in the submissive kneeling pose, and two, it forced her head sharply back, providing an angle that Jamie found delightfully suitable for servicing her.  Samantha was nude, her slender body still slightly dirty from the rough handling Jamie had given her earlier, and still sweaty from her exertions. For the time being, she was the sole guest of Jamie’s in a small but nice room in a bunkhouse of sorts.

   Jamie’s hand was tangled in the young blonde’s long hair, pulling her face into her crotch.  Samantha had never before performed oral sex on a male, let alone another woman.  Jamie’s muscular thighs pressed together forcing Samantha’s nose to ride against the neatly shaved flesh.  Her tongue wagged back and forth over the swollen clitoris as rapidly as she could, her actions bringing obvious pleasure to her captor.  Again Jamie pulled harshly on the leather.  They were thin leather thongs in an Indian motif, with turquoise beads and feathers adorning the length of them.  Loops in the end had been tightened over the blonde girls nipples and tightened down, preventing the hardened flesh from retreating out of their confinement.  Her small lovely breasts jiggled with her exertions except when Jamie tugged on them.  Then they stretched up to tickle the insides of the brunettes thighs where she stood, her legs straddling the tiny blondes folded legs, and served to excite Jamie further.

   After what seemed an eternity, the brunette shook with the throes of pleasure, her strong hand threatening to tear chunks of blonde hair out by the roots.  Eventually she released Samantha’s hair, the frightened girl clenching her eyes as spools of drool spilled off her chin. 

   “Not bad for a blonde slut,” Jamie snarled, pulling her denim cutoffs back on and buttoning them below her muscular abdomen. 

   She pulled her blue and yellow flower patterned bra back over her shoulders, having pulled it down earlier to expose her large breasts, and slipped her straw cowboy hat back on.

   Jamie came back over and knelt in front of the bound girl.  Her fingers sought out Samantha’s labia, spreading the lips apart enough to insert a finger.  Samantha protested at the unwanted invasion, but Jamie persisted, rubbing her finger around until she could feel the girls natural lubrication begin to coat it.  She rubbed a bit more, then removed her finger, sticking it into the girls mouth, held widely open via the ring gag.  Samantha drooled even more heavily at the humiliation of having to taste her own juices.

    Jamie laughed at the young girls plight, then removed her finger, walked around behind her, and untied the cord connecting her bound toes to the gag in back.

   She hauled the girl to her feet by her hair.

   “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit,” Jamie laughed.  “I may want to use you later and you’re starting to stink a bit.”

   The two headed towards a crude shower room, the leather thongs swinging back and forth from Samantha’s tits.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Alicia Monroe ran.  It winded her to do so because the four inch ball gag crammed into her mouth made such an endeavor more laborious than normal.  Her gag was strapped and padlocked in place making its removal a near impossibility without the key.  Her barbell nipple piercing had been replaced with a tiny silver bell on a stainless ring slipped through, then the ends lightly soldered to keep her from removing it.  She was nearly naked.  A way too small white half-T just barely covered her breasts, and a scant black thong covered her privates.  The half-T had holes cut out where her nipples poked through, allowing the bell to ring lightly as she ran.  She wore a pair of moccasins on her feet that she could feel the heat of the ground through them as she ran.   She actually thought she had a chance; that mistaken optimism born of the fact that she was athletic.  The reality was the odds were stacked.

  The sagebrush was thick, but not tall enough to conceal her completely.  And she wasn’t entirely sure of who she was running from.  Her long legs would carry her a ways, the tiny bells jingling from her nipples, then she would duck down behind the brush for a time and listen.  This scene repeated itself a number of times, and still she saw no-one. She had made her way for a quarter of a mile, the sweat beginning to roll off her flesh in the high desert air.  Again she knelt, again nothing.  She stood and looked about, her hands testing the tight leather strap holding the gag in place.  She cursed it, then again began to run.  Suddenly a shaft of wood appeared in front of her, tripping her to the ground.  She yelped in surprise, then hurriedly got to her feet. She was startled to see a figure rise from behind a sage-bush.  It was a girl, probably about her age.  She was Oriental, and rather busty, and incredibly beautiful.  Alicia stared at her briefly.  There was a smile that seemed both cold and devious, and Alicia realized this was no friend.  Again she took off running, but once again she was tripped, this time from a different shaft of wood.  She rolled to her back and looked up into the face of the same girl, and her eyes widened.  How could she have done that?  It seemed impossible for the girl to have moved so quickly as to get clear around to the other side of her.

   She got to her feet and started to sprint in the opposite direction, but there she was again.  She spun around....  There were two of them.  TWINS!!  They had to be.  Each held in her hand a wooden shaft about an inch in diameter, and four feet long.  As she looked on they both twirled the shafts in a fashion as might a ninja.  As she turned to run one of them lashed out and stuck Alicia on the butt.  It stung mightily, but did no real damage.  She turned to run in the other direction but the opposite girl twirled her shaft and thrust it at an angle down to the ground, and Alicia tripped over it, sprawling once again to the ground.  She got up to run again, but the butt of the shaft struck her again in the small of the back.  She spun around and was struck in the belly, nearly driving the wind from her.  She clutched her stomach, rolling over to her knees.  That was when the next blow caught her at the base of the skull.  It wasn’t enough to knock her out, but it rendered her completely helpless.  She was face down on the hot ground moaning through her gag.  She was vaguely aware of on of the girls pressing the end of the staff against the base of her skull and pressing down to keep her still.  The other girl placed her staff across Alicia’s back, then pulled her limp arms up and around it so that it sat in the crook of her elbows.  She was pulled to a seated position while her wrists were bound tightly together in front with leather.  Because of the wooden staff, her wrists could not meet in front, but that didn’t stop the girl from trying to get them there.

   She was seated on the ground, helplessly bound as the two girls laughed and giggled and spoke to one another in their native tongue.  Alicia was pulled to her feet.  One of the twins grabbed another length of leather and knotted it to the waistband of her thong bottoms.  The free end was brought up and over the leather connecting her wrists and pulled on sharply.  She cried out as her bottoms were forced deep inside her.  It was like the wedgie from hell.  The two girls next made quick work of the half-T, leaving the shredded bits to flutter in the hot dry wind.  With Alicia’s breasts thrust out in front like ornaments on a car hood, the three made their way back towards the ranch.

   Mallory was just finishing a light lunch when the trio walked in.

   “Ahh, another successful hunt,” Mallory chuckled.

   She stood from the table and walked to the frightened girl.

   “Nice touch,” she commented, tugging at the waistband of the thong panties.

   That brought another squeal from Alicia.

   “Good job girls,” Mallory smiled.  “We’ll talk this evening about a little chore I have for you.”    “Just one more thing.”

   She walked back towards the table and sat down.

   “As you can see, I’m enjoying my lunch,” Mallory said.  “And I hate to be disturbed while eating.”

   The twins looked at one another and nodded.  Alicia groaned as the wooden staff once again slammed against her back, propelling her to the floor.  The girls quickly and efficiently looped leather around each of the young girls ankles.  The thin lengths were brought up and through a pre-drilled hole at each end of the staff Alicia’s elbows were draped over.  Then her ankles were yanked up and bound to each end of the pole, arching and spreading her legs, and allowing the “wedgie” to sink even deeper within her.  When the twins were done, they were dismissed with a wave of Mallory’s hand.  Alicia grunted and groaned in her stringent bondage until the stare from Mallory reminded her that things could still get worse.  At that point, she stopped struggling, and as best she could, remained still and quiet while her captor finished her meal.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Heather Duncan set the binoculars down and took a swig from the water bottle.  She marveled at what technology could do, but she had her doubts about this.  Abandoned airfields in West Texas didn’t fit the F.I.R.M modus operandi. It made for a good cover, but she had watched the place now for almost half a day, and there was nothing to discern.  Dressed in her desert camo’s, she finally decided to backtrack and take a ravine that ran up close to a cluster of old hanger’s.  She wasn’t going to waste a lot of time chasing down leads that weren’t productive. 

   It took her over an hour to make the journey, and she was thankful she had brought as much water as she had, for there was little to break the glare of the hot August sun.  She crept up towards one of the buildings, its tin siding creaking somewhat in the breeze.  Putting her back against the hot building, she pulled her Glock 19 from her side, and made her way in through a slightly ajar door.  It was apparent immediately there was no activity there.  Heather cursed quietly, retreating out the way she came.  The next two buildings produced the same results, and she was becoming irritated she had allowed herself this futile exercise.  That had been one of the lessons at the training academy.  Never allow emotional issues to interfere with professional performance.  She was pretty sure she had severely violated that tenet.

   In a small building she checked the ground for any recent sign of activity There was simply nothing there.  So it was that when her shoulders slumped as she turned to go, she was stunned to see a female figure, dressed in black, standing in her way.  She couldn’t believe she had slipped in without making a sound.  Neither said a word.  The girl was young and beautiful.  That was not something that needed studying to ascertain.  She had long dark to her waist, pulled back into a ponytail.  Her body was marvelously contoured, with large melon-shaped breasts, and the almond shaped eyes indicating oriental ancestry.

   Heather raised her gun.

   “Who are you?” she queried.

   The girl said nothing.

   “Not talking are we?” Heather continued, her feet spreading out and her body assuming a more intimidating posture.

   The girl followed her with her dark eyes.

   “Raise you hands,” Heather commanded.

   Still nothing.

    “Did you hear me, raise your hands,” she said more loudly.

   The girl smiled.

   There was a whirring sound and before Heather could react a weighted length of leather whipped around her wrists, and was jerked tight, the gun clattering from her hands and onto the concrete floor.  The girl quickly kicked it safely away.  Heather turned, to see where this new threat came from, at the same time freeing her wrists.  Her jaw dropped.  Was she seeing double?  Her wrists freed, she ran at the second girl, executing a spinning roundhouse at the adversary.  It was spot on, but at the last minute the girl ducked out of the way rendering it harmless.  Heather landed and remained crouched in an athletic stance.  The two girls moved to opposite sides of Heather.  As she sensed one close, she gave a side kick that landed square.  The girl gave a grunt, but as she did, Heather got a kick that caught her flush in the side.  It hurt like hell and Heather tried to buy a minute.  It didn’t work.  Her opponents knew they had an advantage in numbers, and weren’t about to give the blonde time to recuperate. Heather ducked under a backhand from one of the girls, and sidestepped a kick form the other, but a spinning backhand caught her on the cheekbone.  A kick landed flush on her thigh, but Heather retaliated with a solid counter to the mid-section.  She knew she was doing damage, but the young girls were good.  Heather doubted she could prevail in the long run.  She spun off a trio of roundhouse kicks, then bolted for the door. 

   She heard another whirring sound and felt another weighted cord wrap around her right wrist.  She turned, and grabbed a hold of the thin leather cord, attempting to pull the girl holding it off balance.  Another whirring sound and another cord whipped around her left ankle, making ineffective her efforts to topple the first girl.  Heather winced.  She looked down at her wrist and realized there were tiny barbs embedded in the leather.  As long as there was tension on the cord it would be impossible to remove.  The girls pulled in opposite directions.  The girl holding the cord wrapped around Heather’s wrist, held the cord with one hand, and tossed the long excess over a 2X4 support in the roof.  She grabbed the free end and pulled hard, jerking Heather’s arm into the air, then quickly tied it off to an eye-bolt in the wall.  The other girl pulled on her line as well, taking a wrap around an exposed wall stud.  She pulled until Heather was awkwardly stretched, then tied it off as well.  Heather tried grabbing for her wrist, but it was too far away.  The two came at her, and she tried to keep them at bay with her free hand.  For a few fleeting moments they toyed with her, but then another barbed cord wound around her free hand, and that was that.  While one of the girls held that cord, the other approached the squirming and cursing blonde and slipped a final cord around her neck, tossing the free end up over another ceiling joist, and snugging it up.  Most of the struggling stopped at this point.  Heather wisely calculated that if she lost her already precarious footing, she might wind up a statistic.  The young girls looked at one another, nodded and smiled.  For a moment everyone caught their collective breaths, then the two approached Heather. 

   The girl who had received the punch to the mid-section returned the favor, driving much of the wind from the blonde.  She slumped only slightly, the cord around her neck keeping her in place.  A knife came out.  It wasn’t just any knife but one obviously only to be used for serious work.  Gleaming and razor sharp at the tip, with serrations towards the handle, it immediately got Heather’s attention.  With a pace that was not slow, yet not hurried, the girl cut  every button from Heather’s shirt.  One by one they clattered onto the floor.  The sleeves were next, then lastly the remaining lapels in front.  The shirt dropped free.  The pants came next. They were cut free with less fanfare, but soon they joined the tattered shirt.  The boots and socks followed until she wore only her underwear.  She had worn ordinary white panties and bra.  Fieldwork called for practicality more than anything else. Practical or not, they joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, leaving Heather completely naked, except for her cap.  When it was removed, her long blonde hair, which had been wound up and tucked underneath, spilled down her back and over her breasts in front.

   The girl holding the wrist leash kept tension on it and walked behind the stationary blonde, bringing Heather’s arm around behind her as she went, then tied the leash off.   She approached a rusty file cabinet it one corner of the room, and opened it, drawing from it two strange looking leather mitts.  Walking back to the naked blonde, she fastened the first one around her left wrist.  It fastened with a buckle at a point just covering the hand, and laced up on the palm side.  When the laces were drawn tight, it held the thumb and fingers in a tight point that allowed no movement of either.  At the tip of the mitt was a stainless steel ring sewn into the material.  Heather’s right wrist was untied from it’s stretched out position, pulled across behind her so her arms were in an “X” shape in back, then it too was fastened in an identical mitt.  From the ring at the tip of the second mitt was a leather strap some eight feet long.  The strip of leather was threaded through the ring of the opposite mitt, then Heather’s arms were released from their tethers, and the cord peeled from her wrists.  As soon as the tethers were released, the leather connecting the mitts was pulled on hard, bringing the blonde girls hands around toward her front from the opposite sides of her body.  The leather was run back through the ring from where it originated, and several more inches of slack were obtained.  A few more hard jerks, and the end was tied off, leaving Heather to feel as if she were giving herself a painful reverse bear-hug.  A wide black leather belt was fastened around her elbows where they crossed in the middle of her back, and the blonde girl looked down to see her breasts thrusting forward from the strain.  But there was worse to come.  Leather cuffs were fastened tightly around each ankle.  These too had stainless rings on them.  Finally the neck cord was loosened, allowing Heather to assume a more comfortable position.  It was indicated she sit on the floor, and when she balked for a moment, she was given two strokes across her tits with the barbed cord, bringing about her compliance.     She was directed to sit in a yoga-like posture with her left foot cradled in the crook formed where her right thigh separated from her hip, and her right foot on the opposite side, but likewise cradled.  More leather was produced and fastened to the rings on each of the ankle cuff.  These were run through their corresponding ankle loops, bringing Heather left hand and left foot together at her right hip, and right foot and right hand together at her left hip.  Heather had been content to not comment during her binding, but this stringent position brought some sharp words directed at the young oriental captors, and as a result, a four inch harness gag made its way in front of her clenched mouth.  A handful of blonde locks, and a harshly pinched nipple unclenched it, and the gag was forced in, then brutally fastened in place.  Over that went a foam panel gag, silencing over the most energetic attempts at sound.  More thin black leather was produced, and even though Heather could barely move, they continued to apply them at numerous places around her bare body.  Around her upper arms and body, above and below the breasts.   All were tightened until no more slack could be played out.  As a final act of redundancy, they doubled her over, squashing her into the most compact of balls, and running more leather around her folded body to keep her as such.  When they were done the twins inspected their job, twisting their blonde victim to and fro.  One of them spoke something in Japanese and they rolled Heather onto her back.  One of the girls held her, while the other ran her finger up inside Heather’s cunt, running it around like she was rubbing honey off the lip of a jar.  She withdrew it and again spoke in her foreign tongue, bringing a laugh from her sister.  They left the tightly bound blonde like that, on her back and unable to move, and exited the building.  In the distance, Heather could her the sound of an approaching aircraft.  She cursed herself, and tried to fight against the harsh leather bindings, but it was like fighting against steel.  Cursing her lack of judgement, she lay still.  Wasting energy would not get her any closer to freedom.  She could hear the plane taxi up near the building, and she closed her eyes.

______________________________________________________________________________

   In a large open area inside an adobe structure, Mallory directed Hugo, Marcus and Jerome to bring the crate into the middle of the room.  She had summoned a portion of her immediate staff, as well as their two recent acquisitions, Samantha and Alicia, to witness the event.  The two teens stood naked and ball gagged, their elbows handcuffed behind them, wrists cuffed in front.  With a nod from Mallory, the men cut the straps, allowing the top of the crate to be removed.  A large wad of foam padding was removed, and the brothers lifted the box, tipping it to spill the contents out.  There was total silence.  Then Mallory started to laugh.  The three brothers joined in.  On the floor, bound into a contorted “69" position were the Japanese twins.  They were naked, each one’s face pressed against the other sex, and fastened tightly in place there.  More cord held their legs tightly around the others head, then were folded up and fastened against their thighs.  It had been an extremely thorough job, as neither girl could do much more than fight for air.

   “I should have known,” Mallory smirked.

   The young Japanese girls were making muffled noises from the floor.

   Hugo knelt and reached for the bound bundle.

   “No, leave them be,” Mallory instructed.  “A few hours like that should allow them time to reflect on their mistake.”

   She walked over to the teens.

   “I think we have to try a completely different approach,” she spat, reaching out to pinch Samantha’s nipples.  “Sometimes, if you want to catch the trophy fish, it just requires the proper bait.”

______________________________________________________________________________

   “I tried to get a hold of you, but it was too late,” Keri comforted her friend.  “After analyzing it several more times, I realized they had edited the film to produce false shadow-lines.  You were walking into a trap.”

   Heather towel-dried her hair from the shower she had recently taken.  After her rescue, they had driven several hours east, checking into a luxury suite at the Hilton in Fort Worth.

   “But there were two of them....” she stammered.

   “Ahh yes, the old tranquilizer dart trick does wonders,” Keri laughed.  “I knew you had ignored one of the most important tenets, but there is an equally important one that says something about ‘don’t allow a F.I.T. agent to go to war alone.’

   Heather stopped drying her hair.

   “Thanks,” she said simply.

   “Don’t worry about it,” Keri said.  “Look, maybe you should take a break from it.  Let me take it for a spell.”

   Heather started to protest.

   “Think about it.  Sam and Alicia will be safe as long as you stay away from them.  They are a bartering chip.  I’m not going to get into details about what they want.  Only you know that.”

   Heather bit her lip.

   “They want to know where our headquarters is,” she said quietly.

   “No one knows that,” Keri spat.  “Why would they think you have any information on it.”

   “They think I can find out,” Heather said her blue eyes flashing towards Keri.  “My guess is they feel I will do whatever it takes to save Sam and Alicia.”

   There was a silence.

   “What now?” Keri asked.

   “I don’t know about you, but I’m taking a long soak in the jacuzzi,” Heather smiled. 

   Keri sighed as Heather did a rapid strut towards the jacuzzi room.

   Heather had just closed her eyes, allowing the warm liquid to soothe her bare body, when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.  She tensed briefly, her recent trauma at the hands of the twins still vivid in her mind. She started to sit up, but the hand were gentle, yet firm.

   “You’re so tense,” she heard Keri say.

   The hands continued to rub her shoulders, and she felt her body begin to relax.  It had been some time since Heather had felt that kind of attention.  The hands continued to work their healing magic.  They stopped briefly, and Heather heard the unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the tile floor.  Then the hands were back.  She sensed her nurturer kneeling on the floor behind her, and then she felt the hands move down over her shoulders.  They rubbed the sides of her breasts in an exploratory fashion, and when there was no resistance, they became more aggressive in their exploration.  Keri’s sweet scent filled the blonde girl’s nostrils as she lowered her head next to the relaxing blonde.  Her chestnut hair spilled down alongside Heather’s shoulders.  While it was known in some circles that Heather’s door swung both ways, that was not the common assumption about Keri.  It came as a surprise to the blonde that she was receiving this kind of attention from her friend, but not an unpleasant one.  Keeping her hands on Heather’s shoulders, Keri stepped into the tub.  Heather felt her pulse quicken.  Gone were the glasses normally worn by her friend, and the hair always worn in a bun, had been freed to fall almost to her waist in a gentle waving fashion.  Her body was spectacular, the breasts full and round, and her waist a slender, yet toned anatomical delight. Her pubic area was smooth and shaved, and Heather could see it was slightly puffy with arousal.  Keri looked into her eyes for a moment, then the two embraced, their lips seeking out the other’s, and their tongues dancing wildly together.  Keri’s hands rubbed across Heather’s muscular thighs, and her fingers sought out and probed the blonde’s labia.  Heather began to moan, a signal to continue that did not go unheeded.  Keri grabbed Heather by the shoulders, moving her towards a seat at one end of the bath that allowed her blonde friend to be mostly out of the water.  In the next moment, Keri’s tongue was at work, and Heather felt herself at last to be momentarily free of worries.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Unfortunately, being free of worries was not a luxury of the two sixteen year olds in the custody of the F.I.R.M misfits.  Nightfall found Mallory and Jamie seated in a subterranean room, illuminated with a dozen candles and a couple of computer monitors. Jamie slumped on a couch, halfway supported by the large pillows at one end, while Mallory remained seated on a simple wooden chair where she could keep an eye on the monitors. They were amusing themselves with the restrained girls, while plotting their next move in the cat-and-mouse game with the elusive F.I.T agent.

   Samantha’s tiny body once again began to quiver, and the throaty sounds of unleashing pleasure, along with large amounts of drool spilled out from behind the horrid four inch red ball gag strapped tightly in place.  She had been deviously bound, her slender nude body arched painfully on the floor.  Her wrists had been lashed together with thin leather, then in turn were fastened rather high to her waist with numerous wraps of the same, keeping her hands anchored in the small of her back.  Her elbow were fastened tightly together, and because of the way her wrists were fastened to her waist, they angled away from her back  Her long blonde hair had been braided into two pigtails with leather laced into the braids near the ends.  Cord around each individual ankle, with a loop in the end provided the means for running the  hair cord from the corresponding pigtail through.  Her ankles were pulled up behind her by means of these cords, bending her into a modified hogtie.  This would have been stringent enough, but the women had seen fit to run a cord around those connecting hair to ankles, and then around a hook in the ceiling, and pulling her into an excruciating arch.  Her hardened nipples licked at the crude floor, rubbing against it as her body shook.  The strenuous position had her sweating heavily, and her tanned skin took on a flickering sheen in the dim light.  But the stringent bondage wasn’t all that had her body sweating.  Between her legs, fastened into place in such a manner that it was pressed deeply into her, was a vibrator.  It was this humming fiend which kept her from even a moments peace, for as the effects of her numerous orgasms waned, the horrid position she was bound into ravaged her.  And it remained that way until her own body responded to the stimulation imposed on it, and took her briefly away from reality of her situation.  Her grey eyes opened wide as the next wave coursed through her helpless body.

   “How many is that?” Mallory chuckled.

   “I don’t know, ten maybe?” Jamie said indifferently.  “I lost count a half hour ago.”

   Her indifference wasn’t so much a product of not being entertained as it was she had her own spectacle to observe.  There was nothing about Alicia’s situation that could remotely be described as pleasurable.   Her arms were pulled into a severe reverse prayer, the palms of her hands together just below her neck in back, and held there with a black leather belt.  Another belt midway between her wrists and her elbows closed what should have been widening gap, and belts closer to the elbows held the folded joints to where they nearly touched.  Her legs were folded too, her ankles strapped securely to her thighs, keeping her black pump clad stiletto heels pressed into the cheeks of her butt.  They were expensive heels, with a snap closing ankle strap that insure they would stay on her feet.  Her gag was a simple two inch wide strip of leather, buckled deep into her mouth, that really didn’t silence her as much as make any intelligible sound unintelligible.  Around her waist was another belt, tightened just above the hip bones, and buckled at least three holes too tight.  Another narrow belt looped over this waist cinch in front, and was riveted to itself.  This strap dove down between her thighs, slicing cruelly through her sex and butt cheeks, before being fastened to a specially attached buckle in back.  Jamie had seen to this strap like a trucker worried that his load might shift if it was allowed any play whatsoever.  That was the extent of her bondage.  The genius of this was that it allowed the raven haired beauty a good deal of movement, but no relief.  She flopped around on the floor, spreading her thighs, then clenching them together in a constant scissoring action, as if she could somehow expel the intruding leather with enough effort.  On each nipple was an alligator clip, the jaws deep enough in the tender flesh to make even her most energetic efforts of rubbing against floor a futility.  From those clips dangled a gold chain, which terminated in tiny bells, and their jingling, which had been constant for a time, had begun to wane as she tired. Like her fellow captive, her exertions had her sweating heavily, her dark hair stuck to her face in several places.

   A computer alert drew Mallory from her chair, and she hurried to the monitor.

   “Damn,” she said, staring at the ‘No items found’ message on the screen.  “I should have known they would have issued new credit cards.”

   Her search had been run through the F.I.R.M database, in an effort to locate where Heather may have wound up.  The search had been for all locations starting from the west Texas airfield, then going in concentric circles away from that point.  It had been done assuming they would have traveled at an average speed of 70 mph.  So the search went out 70 miles for the first hour, 140 for the second, and so on.  It assumed Heather had help escaping the clutches of the twins, so it looked for two women using a credit card to check into a hotel.  Plugging in the data containing Heather’s picture, and using a scanner to scan the Photo ID’s on file from people checking in, then cross-referencing had produced nothing.

   “Well, that was a lot for nothing,” Mallory said disgusted.

   She walked over to the blonde teen and switched off the vibrator, then undid the thin cords holding it tightly in place.  She released the cord holding her bent into the painful arch, then released the hair-to-ankles tether.  She grabbed the dual ponytails in one hand, and hauled the tiny blonde easily to her feet, where Samantha stood on wobbly legs.  Her tight body glistened with sweat, and her erect nipples and puffy labia indicated the effects of the vibrator were still very much alive within her.

   Mallory chuckled as her knees buckled, and she would have sunk to the floor if not for the hand in her hair.

   “Your ride’s over you little cunt,” Mallory hissed.  “You can properly thank me later.”

   Meanwhile, Jamie had released the doubled legs of the gorgeous brunette, and likewise pulled her to her feet by the hair.  The five inch heels made standing difficult, but the one inch wide strip of leather slicing through her cunt made doing anything a nightmare.  Jamie reached around the girl, squeezing her breasts with all the finesse of a drunk in a whorehouse.

   “Let’s get these two put away for the night,” Mallory smirked.  “I’ll come up with something tomorrow.”

   After turning off the computers, and blowing out the candles the four of them shuffled off towards the walkout entrance.

______________________________________________________________________________

   

  

   

1   Heather awoke early, slipping un-noticed from the bed while Keri slept.  She put on her bath robe, and logged on to a laptop provided by the hotel, and sent an email to headquarters.  Minutes later she received a reply containing the name of a local restaurant.  She jotted down some information before closing the email.  Immediately, the message disappeared forever from the inbox.    She went to the eatery’s homepage, and placed an online order for lunch, and entered a set of numbers provided in the email confirming payment by credit card.  She logged off the computer, then slipped down the hallway to a maintenance closet.  She used her key-card to gain access, smiling at the wonders of technology from remote locations, and slipped inside.  There were several hangers just inside containing the clothing she had ordered very late the previous evening, as well as a bag containing several boxes of shoes.  She removed them, scampered back to the apartment, and slipped quietly back inside.  She spent the next twenty minutes getting dressed, then gave herself the once over in the full length mirror.  She smiled. Stunning would have been an understatement.  The dress was called a Versatile Scrunch Side Tunic, black in color.  It had a deep V-neck, a V-back, and billowing sleeves that fell to the elbows.  It was a mini-skirt in every sense of the word, falling barely below her butt, with ties at each hip that would allow for a dangerous baring of the hips, if the situation called for it.  It was made of a lightweight breathable material that would be comfortable, even in the Texas summertime.  On her feet, she wore a pair of metallic-colored strappy sandals, with five inch heels, and silver rhinestones running up the front.  She wore a black thong, and sculpted black bra underneath it all.  Her legs were bare, and the dress made them the focal point of the whole outfit, showing off their tanned, toned lengthiness with every stride. Satisfied, retrieved her cell phone from her  Heather wrote a note to her still sleeping, exhausted companion, kissed her lightly on the cheek and left.

   She spent most of the morning walking downtown, occasionally entering a shop when one caught her eye, and stopped in a coffee shop long enough to disrupt the casual caffeine addicts assembled there.  Eventually, it was time for lunch, and she made her way to the restaurant that she had placed her online order at.  At was an upper class establishment, large but cozy.  After reciting a confirmation number to the waiter, she was seated.  She ordered a glass of white wine, and sipped on it while reading the menu.  Noticing a nearby table of men staring at her legs, she gave them the show they wanted, crossing and uncrossing them in a fashion that gave them a tantalizing glimpse of the black thong underneath. 

   When the time came, she ordered the pan seared tuna and a side salad, and savored it for the thirty minutes it took her to consume. When she was done, the waiter brought the check.  She glanced at the total and saw PAID IN FULL in the Totaled Amount box.  She grabbed the dinner mint off the check tray, put it in her purse, and left. 

   She arrived back at the hotel to see Keri, comfortably lounging, reading the morning paper.

   “You have far too much energy,” she giggled at Heather.  “And you have WAY too many assets to be dressed like THAT.”

   Heather did a spin on her heels, allowing a full 360 view, and smiled.

   “How the hell did a girl like you end up in this occupation?” Keri laughed.

   Heather again just smiled. 

   She slipped out of the dress as quickly and easily as a duck sheds water, revealing her sexy Y-back thong, and then undid the bra, tossing it to the side along with the dress.  She shook her blonde mane, and stood facing Keri, hands on hips.

   “Round two?” she asked.

   “You’re on,” Keri smiled, standing from couch, and undoing the sash on her robe.

______________________________________________________________________________

    Mallory woke early from her sleep.  She was a light sleeper, and when she had a mission to accomplish, she slept barely at all.  She released the teens their respective beds where they had spent the night spread eagled, each limb handcuffed to the frame.  Then each was handcuffed with wrists and elbows behind their backs. For the first time in quite a while, they were allowed clothing, if what they wore could be called that.  Samantha was dressed in fishnet.  At least that’s what it seemed to her.  And in truth, that was what it was.  Of course, it had been fashioned into something more than a product to catch fish.  It started as a collar of black fabric, and the netting descended from there.  The diamond shaped mesh was about two inches in diameter, decorating her body beautifully.  It was a bit small, if fishnet could even be described as such.  The mesh pressed against her small, swelling breasts, forcing her flesh to bulge attractively against the black netting, her nipples easily poking through.  A tiny black thong, minimal but stretchy, covered the blonde girls genitals, but in a way that showed their contours in camel-toe fashion.

   Alicia wore a micro bikini.  It was a clear string, teardrop in red white and blue.  The teardrop was so named for the shape of the fabric covering her breasts and her pubic area.  The tiny fabric over her nipples was blue, with white border, and was designed to only cover the center of the breasts.  The bottom was red with a white border.  It started as a point of fabric in front, widening as it fell to just cover her pussy, and then slipped through her butt in back. All of the fabric was held in place with thin, clear plastic that was little more than fishing line.   Both girls were forced to wear ridiculous heels, that kept them both on the verge stumbling. 

    As one of the few acts of kindness presented them since their abduction, Mallory placed cut up fresh fruit in bowls and placed it in front of the girls.  They ate eagerly, even without the use of their arms.  A high energy shake, consumed through a straw was next.  While the girls ate, Mallory made a series of phone calls on her cell.  She called from an adjacent room, and the girls could make out little of the conversations.  When she was done, she returned to the table. 

   “I hope you two are bundles of energy,” Mallory grinned.

   Neither of the teens liked the sound of this.

   “There’s a ton of work to be done, and a shortage of manpower to do it,” Mallory went on.  “So we’ll see if you two are capable of providing the necessary labor.  For the sake of each of your pretty little tits, you better hope you are.”

   Mallory plucked at Samantha’s nipples though the fish netting.

   “I’ll order up another shake for each of you,” Mallory said turning to leave.  “I’d highly advise you drink them.”

   When she was gone, the two girls looked at one another.  It seemed almost awkward that they were left alone, mildly restrained, and most of all, un-gagged.  They looked anxiously at each other, then at the hallway where Mallory had disappeared.  Under normal circumstances they would have giggled at their attire, but little that had transpired over the past few days gave cause for any giggling.  Then Samantha spotted it.  In her haste to lecture the girls, she had overlooked the fact she had placed her cell phone on the counter.  Alicia gasped.  Both girls froze for a moment.  It was too good to be true.  Samantha realized that time was crucial.  Mallory could return at any moment.   The blonde teen stood from her chair, cursing the five inch heels imposed upon her.  If not for the ankle strap, she would have slipped out of them.  As best she could she quietly made her way to the counter.  There was still no sign of Mallory.  Even with her arms cuffed behind her back, Samantha still had a good deal of flexibility allowed her, and it was no chore for her to flip open the cell phone.  She turned her back to the phone, twisting her torso to see the buttons, and began to dial.  Almost giddy, she bent to get her ear near the phone.  Nothing.  She cursed.  Perhaps she had missed a button.  She hit the power end button, and started over. Once again she bent to the phone, and once again there was nothing. 

   “Come on,” Alicia pleaded.

   “Something’s wrong,” Samantha whimpered.

   A third attempt yielded the same results.  Samantha was near tears.

   “Problems?” Mallory’s voice came from the opposite end of the room from where she had left from.

   The two girls looked at her.  She walked towards them, her heels clacking ominously across the floor.

   “I thought you might try that,” she chuckled, picking up the phone.  “And now I have your beloved sister’s number, don’t I?”

   She flipped open the cell phone, smiling as the last number dialed was illuminated.

   “Like it will do you a lot of good,” Samantha hissed.

   “Oh, a feisty one eh?”  Mallory smiled.  “Katrina, come please.”

   More clacking of heels on tile preceded the entrance of the tall, lovely woman responsible for them.  She looked to be in her forties, but with a shape that most 25 year olds would have died for.  Her legs were fabulous, her breasts large, and well displayed by the low-cut, blue leather dress she wore.  Her face was both stern and lovely.  A no nonsense kind of confidence seemed to exude from her.

   “Katrina, I’d like for you to entrust some of your finest people with finding where the lovely owner of this cell number resides,” she said, turning the phone to display the screen.  “When you have the co-ordinates, lock into the signal and keep track of it 24/7.”

   Mallory walked over to the visibly shaken Samantha. 

   “You stupid little cunt, you’ve ratted out big sister,” Mallory laughed.  “She’ll be joining you soon, and I’ll be happy to inform her that it was you who extended the invitation.”

   “But how....?” Samantha stammered.

   “Technology is a wonderful thing,” Mallory smiled at Katrina, who smiled back.  “Well, that and a few rogue comrades, right Katrina.”

   The woman smiled and nodded.

   “All right girls, time to get you two to work,” Mallory continued.  “We have to prepare for company.”

______________________________________________________________________________

   Heather Duncan had spent six hours on the floor of the casino serving drinks after flying into Vegas earlier in the day.  While she served an entire section, her main attention had been on table three.  That was where the young son of one Pedro Rodriguez was rapidly burning through cash at a Black Jack table.  Emilio Rodriguez had no known ties to F.I.R.M. but his father did.  And his father was an elusive figure.  So Heather had been set up through the F.I.T. network to work as a cocktail waitress for the casino, and true to form, Emilio showed up with a ton of money to spend.

   Heather immediately caught the eye of the 27 year old, who had a know affinity for blondes.  She would have caught his eye anyway, but she sealed the deal with the chosen attire.  It was a black-mini tube dress that fell just over her ass and crotch.  It was short enough that bending over required a special sort kneeling action to keep everything clean.  She wore black stockings with it, and black spike heels.  Her blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, and draped down her back to nearly her butt.  She could feel Emilio’s stare each time she bent over to place a drink on the table, and as the night wore on he consumed liquor at an astounding rate.  Just before midnight, Heather began adding the powdered cocktail, a mild sedative that would not begin to take affect for a time.  She watched him from the bar, smiling as she saw him give one of the hotel bellmen a wad of bills.  His tips became more generous as the night wore on, and he tended to lean into Heather as she came to the table, his comments seemingly out of a bad handbook of “How to Pick Up Women.” 

   Heather smilingly accommodated his clumsy advances, even patronizing him with cleavage shots at the appropriate occasions.  When she announced her last call, Emilio nodded to indicate he wanted another one.   After serving the table, Heather walked back to the bar, giving just a bit of an extra twist to her hips as she did for Emilio’s benefit.  After settling up with the bartender, Heather slipped past the bellman in the lobby, at which point he sent a text message.  She entered the ladies room, timing her stay so it seemed all above board, then exited and made her way to the elevators.  She pushed the button, and paced.

   “You’re good,” she heard Emilio’s voice.

    Acting as if she were caught unaware, she turned to see his lanky form teetering behind her.

   “Thanks,” she smiled.  “And you have a knack for winning.”

   He blushed a bit.  This was going well.  He continued with the small talk and the beautiful   blonde reciprocated. He reached out and touched her on the shoulder, and she drew back.

   “Not here,” she said looking around.  “It’s against company policy.”

   “I have a room,” Emilio slurred.  “Meet me there in thirty?”

   He handed her a personal business card, writing the room number on the back.

   Heather nodded.

   Then he handed her a key card.

   “Let yourself in,” he smiled.  “I’ll be in the Jacuzzi.”

   “Oh, how fun,” Heather said softly.  “Anything to drink?”

   “Fully stocked bar,” Emilio grinned.

   “See you shortly,” Heather smiled.

   The elevator rang, and Heather gave Emilio one last smile as the doors shut.

   Thirty minutes later a robe-clad Heather let herself into Emilio’s room.  She carried a handbag with a towel wrapped around a P3AT pistol.  Loosely concealed in a side pocket was a small wood-handled Buck knife.  It was Heather’s favorite in that it could be quickly deployed in an emergency.  She could hear music coming from the rear of the suite and made her way towards it, her eyes taking in the entirety of the room as she went.

   Emilio smiled as she entered the room where he sat fully immersed in the bubbling water.

   “Come in,” he said.

   Heather could tell that the earlier dose of sedative was taking affect.

   “I could use a drink first,” Heather smiled.  “Long day.”

   “The bar’s over there,” Emilio motioned with his hand towards the counter against the far wall.

   Heather left her bag draped over her shoulder, and walked to the bar area.

   “Tequila,” she said excitedly.  “Oh god, I love that stuff.”

   Emilio was becoming aroused at the thought of this gorgeous woman slamming shots of tequila.

   “Fix us each one,” Emilio smiled.  “Use the large tumblers.”

   Heather expertly filled the two glasses, and with a slight of hand that would have made a magician proud, dumped the powerful sedative from behind the false sapphire ring.  Her bare feet pattered back to the Jacuzzi, and she handed Emilio his drink.  She raised her hand the two clanged glasses.

   “To new friends and special moments,” Heather said, wincing privately at how corny it sounded.

   Emilio merely nodded, and the two downed the large shots of the Patron.

   Heather turned her back to Emilio, and shed the blue robe she was wearing.

   Emilio’s eyes widened for a moment as Heather’s flawless body was revealed.  She wore an incredible white long-sleeved gauze shirt, with a deep V-neck in front, and a hemline that covered only about half of her lovely ass in back.  Even before getting into the water, Heather’s body could clearly be observed through the thin fabric.  Once in the tub, it would become almost translucent. The young man looked down her long tanned legs, but as he did so, he began to see four limbs where there were only two.  He saw her breasts, large and round, pressed against the front of the shirt, the nipples denting the fabric in a defiant manner.  He tried to raise his arm to beckon her in, but the limb was too heavy.  His eyes blinked several times, and then his head fell over.  Heather quickly went to his side, sliding his body to a position that would keep his head above water.  Her quarrel, and the organization’s, was not with Emilio, but rather his father.  Heather checked his pulse and breathing.  He would be fine.

   Thirty minutes later, Heather had the passwords, stored in easily uncovered places on Emilio’s laptop, to his father’s email accounts, and other sensitive information.  The “dinner mint” from that day’s lunch, plugged into the data port, had given her access to anything and everything on the computer.  When she was done she removed the tiny “mint” from the data port, and returned the laptop to its bedside stand.  Once again checking on Emilio’s welfare, Heather slipped back into her bathrobe and quietly made her way back down to her room several floors below.  At last back in her own room, she made a call on her phone, telling the listener that the order they had requested was in the process of being filled.  Then she hung up.  She drank a glass of wine, and settled in for a good night’s sleep.

______________________________________________________________________________

   “Las Vegas huh?” Mallory quipped.  “Undoubtedly catching some shows.”

   She stood from her chair and walked to the window.

   “Should we send a few agents there?” Katrina said in a slight eastern European accent.

   Mallory was quiet for a moment.  She looked over at the bound teens.

   Alicia made small whimpering sounds and a stream of drool dropped onto her bare chest.  Mallory walked over to her and knelt, her fingers slipped between the girl’s legs, then she withdrew them smiling.  The vibrating vaginal plug was still going strong, as was the equally buzzing butt plug.  Alicia’s arms had been strapped together; forearms to biceps, then her elbows had been wrenched painfully together so that her arms looked something like wings.  Tight black leather bondage mitts had been buckled around each wrist.  There were rings at the end of each, and those were fastened via a black strip of leather keeping the fingers well away from any mischief.  Her legs had been doubled and belted tightly, ankle to thigh.  She wore thigh-high leather boots, which creaked against the leather belts binding her legs.  She once again wore the nipple rings with the bells in place of her original barbell stud, and the bells jingled with each trembling, pleasurable moment.

   “Wait until morning,” Mallory said with no trace of emotion.  “Monitor her, and if she is still there at noon, make it happen.”

   There was a period of silence, as if Katrina was waiting for something more.  Mallory smiled.

   “Would you like some company tonight?” she asked.

   Katrina eyes shone.

   Mallory walked over to Alicia and released her legs.  She grabbed a handful of her dark hair, and pulled the young beauty to her feet. She whimpered, her lovely breasts thrust out invitingly, the bells jingling.

   “She’s already warmed up,” Mallory grinned, rubbing her hand over the leather strap holding the vibrating plugs in place. 

   Katrina approached the young girl and squeezed her breasts.  Then she gave a nod of thanks towards Mallory, grabbed the cord stretching between the leather mitts, and left.

   Mallory made her way back over by the blonde and sat.

     Samantha had her own worries.  Her wrists had been pulled into a brutal reverse-prayer, and fastened in place with black leather belts.  The arms had been so tightly bound that her elbows nearly touched, and each movement of her body caused her to surge against the unyielding leather.  For purposes of keeping her put, her neck had been fastened to her right knee with an additional belt that held her in a painful, helpless position that also left her extremely vulnerable.  There seemed to be no comfortable way to rest, bound as she was, but rest wasn’t what her captor had in mind for her any way.  A ring gag held her lips apart, but it allowed her tongue plenty of leeway.  Mallory wore a pair of red leather panties, and red high heels.  That was it.  Samantha found out early on in the evening that the panties had a seam that sat right over Mallory’s labia.  When she had been commanded to pleasure Mallory, she had looked on bewildered.  But Mallory had grabbed her by the hair, and forced her nose and mouth into the leather, and as the beautiful brunette spread her legs, her panties parted at the seam, allowing Samantha’s tongue access.  And as Samantha worked, and as Mallory became aroused, her swollen clitoris protruded through the opening.  On each of the five occasions that Samantha had performed for Mallory, her neck had first been freed from her knee, only to be re-fastened when her job was done.

   After Katrina left, Samantha fully expected to once again have to service this insatiable woman.  But to her surprise, that wasn’t to be.  Mallory stood, and towered over the helpless blonde.  With the toe of her black leather pump, she parted the lips of the blonde girl’s easily accessible pussy, rolling her onto her back in the process.  Samantha garbled through her ring gag as her arms took her weight, her numbed fingers at the base of her skull.  Her tanned body was covered in sweat, her small tits spread across her chest, and her slender belly heaving with each frightened breath.  Mallory moved her foot of to Samantha’s nipples, running the toe of her shoe back and forth across the hardened flesh, delighting in how that act alone brought them into further prominence.

   She finally released Samantha’s neck from her knee, and pulled the whimpering girl to her feet.  Mallory buckled a leather collar around Samantha’s neck, fastening a snap ring on the end of a leash to a stainless steel ring on the collar, and led her toward the bedrooms at the back of the home.  The surprises were not over.  Mallory walked right past the room she normally slept in, continuing on down the hall to where Jamie was currently staying.  Mallory knocked on the door, and heard a faint “come in.”

   The two entered.  Jamie sat on the edge of her bed wearing only her panties. 

   “I thought you wanted her tonight,” Jamie said, standing from her bed.

   Mallory said nothing.

   “That was what you said,” Jamie continued.

   Mallory could feel the lump in her throat growing.

   “I said I wanted company, yes,” Mallory whispered.

   Jamie’s eyes widened as she understood.  She moved in close, now standing right in front of Mallory.  The two women were roughly the same height, but their physiques couldn’t have been more different.  Jamie had the broader shoulders, and was more muscular. Her long dark hair fell below her large breasts, which sat high and wide on her chest with tiny, hard nipples.  She had a muscular belly and abs, accentuated by the narrow waist, and strong leg, which were the obvious product of many hours of fitness training.  Her lips were full, and the piercing blue eyes with long, dark lashes could be intimidating, especially to those she looked upon as lesser beings.

   Mallory was also muscular, but in a more sleek sense.  Hers was more in the same way that a ballerina might be considered muscular.  It made her seem skinnier than she actually was.  Her breasts were small, but firm, and stood out from her chest in a manner that invited attention.

   The two women’s eyes met.

   “What about her?” Jamie smiled, pointing at Samantha.

   Mallory pried herself away from the moment long enough to drag the blonde teen over to a large dresser.  Shoving Samantha to the floor, she fastened her by the neck to one of the legs on the dresser.

   When she stood from her task, Jamie was right there.  She could feel her hot breath and the warmth of her body so close. Without another word the two women embraced, Jamie’s large breasts, and hard nipples pressing against Mallory’s.  Mallory’s hands roamed down over Jamie’s muscular buttocks, grabbing and squeezing the mounds with her strong fingers.  Jamie pressed her mouth hard against the lips of her new lover, their tongues wrestling wildly together and they made a quick dance to the bed, where they fell tangled together.  Mallory’s fingers slid up the other girls strong thighs, quickly finding the smoothly shaved area, and slipped a finger inside the slick folds.  Jamie’s mouth moved down from Mallory’s lips, her nose rubbing back and forth across the girls hardening nipples, before closing her mouth around the sensitive flesh and sucking.  They responded immediately.  Their moans became louder as they were aroused.  The two spun about on their bed, their bodies quickly tangling the light sheets until they ripped them from the bed, throwing them to the floor beside the bound blonde.  Then they found each other again, resuming their exploration of the other’s body, their moans passionate moans rising through the small room for the next hour.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Heather woke early and spent the morning on the narrow deck of her hotel room thirty-seven stories up.  She spent it with her bare feet on the rail, sipping coffee, her body scarcely covered, by a flimsy nightgown.  Eventually she slipped into a pair of jeans and flip-flops, threw on a red T-shirt and a lightweight yellow jacket, and then wore a red ball cap along with her Ralph Lauren sunglasses, and went to eat breakfast.  No fancy clothing today.  She didn’t want to draw attention to herself at this time.  She ate lightly.  As was her practice, she would have a very light meal, a vigorous workout just around noon, a light lunch, and then it would be time to catch a limo to the airport.

   After eating, she took a walk down the strip.  She always marveled at how no matter what time of day, the city was alive.  Heather had never been big on the casino scene, at least as far as the gambling went, but she loved the night life when she had the chance to enjoy it.  This trip had not been particularly lenient to those whims however, and she vowed to make a better time of it when she next visited.  Time passed quickly, and after a quick call to Keri, Heather made her way back towards the hotel.  Each floor of the hotel had a workout center on it.  They were good facilities too, with Nautilus and free weights, as well as a jogging and walking track.  As she passed the one on her floor she noticed the sign on the door indicating “New Equipment Coming Today.  Gym May Be Closed.”  In the hall a hotel employee was finishing cleaning a room, loading his cleaning equipment onto his cart, and then headed down the hall away from Heather.  It seemed too quiet.  But Heather deduced that many people had already checked out ahead of the noon deadline.  She never asked why she was allowed the extra time, but some things were better left for others to negotiate. 

   Back in her hotel room she changed into her workout gear.  It consisted of a white sports bra under a hot pink tank top.  Then came the tight, black workout shorts with pink highlights at each hip over her brief black panties, and finally her quarter-socks worn with her Nike workout shoes.  Heather fastened her long hair into a ponytail, and took several moments to admire her form in the mirror.  She had always been proud of her body, and working out was a way to keep her pride intact.  In such a public place, she avoided some of the briefer attire she occasionally wore to exercise in, but still, the base of her ass peeked out from the bottom of the spandex.  She grabbed a towel from the bathroom and made her way down the hall to the workout facility.  Using her key card to enter, she was pleasantly surprised to see the room empty.  What she failed to see was the hotel employee turning the sign on the door back to “CLOSED.”

   She completed her ride on a stationary bike to get her heart rate up, and had done three of the Nautilus stations when the door to the workout area opened.  Four men brought a box in on a 4-wheel dolly and nonchalantly began to open it.  The four were dressed in dark blue pull-over work suits, and paid little attention to Heather as she continued her workout.  She watched as they cut away the cardboard, revealing a pine crate inside.  The crate had metal banding around it, and one of them pulled a pair of snips out, cutting the binding with a loud twang.  Heather moved to a new machine as the men rolled the crate over adjacent to her.

   “Pardon us ma’am,” one of the men said.  “Replacing equipment.”

   Heather continued her workout, eyeing the activity of the men as they rolled the box past her.  She finished her routine on the leg curls and stood as one of the men walked just to her left.  She glanced at him as he passed, and as he stopped suddenly she delivered a roundhouse kick to the temple that dropped him immediately.  Sensing a movement behind her she spun around and launched a straight kick that landed squarely on his nuts.  She had delivered enough of those to know when it was a direct hit, and smiled as he dropped like a sack of potatoes.  Two down.  Heather spun around as the remaining men looked on stunned.

   “Which one of you limp dicks is next,” Heather spat.

   The two men spread apart, and moved towards her.  As one of them lunged, Heather did a low-spinning kick, sweeping his legs out from under him.  In almost the same motion she cracked his chin with a side-kick and he was out.  The fourth man grabbed her from behind with an arm around her throat, but he released it when her elbow rammed him in the groin.  A back-fist broke his nose, and side-thrust snapped his knee.  Heather looked on amused.  Two of the men lay unmoving, while the remaining two groaned in pain writhing on the floor.

   She walked over to one of them and pressed the adhesive label into place at his chest. 

   “A word of advice,” Heather said bending low.  “Makeshift logos should be in place before you try something like this.”

     He looked up between groans to see the blonde girls long tanned legs as she slipped through the door.

   Heather ran quickly down the hallway towards the stairwell.  She passed her room, but resisted the urge to retrieve her laptop and cell phone.  Her clothing was easily replaceable, and F.I.T backed up everything to a secure server, so there was really no need.  There was someone waiting at the elevator. 

   “Going down?” Heather asked.

   The woman turned.  Heather stopped dead in her tracks.

   “Yes, as a matter of fact,” Katrina hissed.

   In the next instant Heather felt a sharp pain in her thigh, the result of a muffled pop from a hand held firing mechanism.  She looked down to see a small dart protruding from her upper thigh.  She turned to run but felt another one smack into her butt cheek.  Already her vision was blurring.  She fell against the wall, her hand grabbing at the door knob as she went down.  She rolled to her back, looking up into the eyes of one of FIT’s most wanted adversaries.

   “Nighty night,” she heard Katrina way as her vision faded.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Heather’s ears were ringing.  She felt like she did once in high school when she drank too much vodka from her friend’s dad’s liquor stash while they were on vacation.  Her head hurt.  Her chin seemed glued to her chest.  There was a pain in her hips and her thighs were burning.  Her arms hurt.  In fact, there didn’t seem to be any part of her being that was free from some kind of pain. 

   “Ahh good,” she heard Mallory’s voice.  “I was afraid we were going to miss dinner if she continued to sleep.”

   Heather raised her head from her chest.  She was in a medium sized room, a control room of some sort, with six people.  There was Mallory, Katrina Letchova, and the four goons from the workout center.  The men held bags of ice to various parts of their bodies, all of them glaring at the blonde with pure hatred.

   It didn’t take her long to ascertain why she hurt.  Her arms had been gathered behind her back, fused tightly within the confines of a blue leather arm binder. She was suspended by a leather cord tied around a ring at the tip of the binder.  The only thing keeping her arms from being pulled out of their sockets were the straps coming off the top of the leather and cris-crossing over her shoulders.  That still didn’t prevent the position from being extremely painful.  Her legs were pulled widely apart, and secured to posts on each side of her. 

   “Would you like to have the honors?” Mallory crowed, handing a menacing looking knife to one of the pained men.

   Heather hung her head.  The last people she wanted holding a knife to her were the men she had disposed of so mercilessly earlier.  The man with the broken nose eagerly grabbed the weapon, and in seconds Heather had been relieved of every stitch of clothing.  Several greedy sets of eyes were trained on her, and as each bit of clothing came away they soaked in her marvelous physique.

   “Now tend to those legs.  They’ll go much wider,” she added.

   When two of the other men were done, she was doing the splits in mid-air.  Only her conditioning and flexibility kept this position from doing great physical harm.  It was all Heather could do to keep from screaming, but she didn’t want to give these fiends the satisfaction of hearing her suffer.

   Mallory walked around behind the suspended girl, running her hands over Heather’s straining thighs.  She pressed her belly against Heather ass causing the blonde to wince as her body stretched against the leg splits, and then grabbed and squeezed the bound girl’s breasts.

   “You’ve made this much more difficult than necessary,” she whispered.

   “You’ll get no apologies,” Heather spat.

   Mallory laughed and continued to massage Heather’s large tits.  Her hands ventured down, across her trembling abdomen until they parted her labia.  They investigated her wisp of blonde hair just above, trimmed into a neat “V” shape.

   “I see you’ve been neglecting your duties,” Mallory scolded.

   Heather had always kept that area completely shaved during their months as lovers, in line with Mallory’s wishes.

   “No problem, we’ll just take care of that little oversight in due time,” she chuckled, continuing on with her bodily probe.

   “Can it Marcott,” Heather hissed.  “You’ve long been forgotten.”

   “Oh really?” Mallory said, stepping back as if offended.  “And what if I was to touch you like you enjoy being touched, would you not respond?”

   Heather was silent.  She doubted that would be the case.

   “You just wish you looked this good,” Heather spat.

   The absurdity of this struck everyone, and there was a group chuckle.  Naked and tightly bound, there was little chance that Mallory would have traded places with the beautiful agent.

   “I think she needs something to occupy that pretty little tongue,” Mallory said, bending to pick up the mutilated panties from the floor. 

   She handed them to Katrina, along with a leather thong.

   “Would you do the honors?” she said with a smirk. 

   Katrina nodded pleasantly, taking both items and walking around behind the restrained blonde.  Her heels clacked ominously across the concrete floor.  She wore light colored, pressed slacks with gold high-heeled sandals.  Her top was a matching, button down blouse.  It was unbuttoned down to just below her breasts, allowing the large round flesh to force the expensive fabric open.  The edges of her white scalloped bra could be seen, and resting across the tops of her breasts was a loose gold necklace.  Heather doubted that all that flesh had occurred naturally, but it was an attractive package all the same.

   Heather clamped her mouth shut, but of course Mallory had anticipated that.  She reached up and pinched the helpless girl’s nipples until she reluctantly open her mouth.  Katrina stuffed the panties inside with practiced ease, the leather following right behind to prevent its expulsion.  She tossed Heather’s long blonde hair around and over her shoulder so it cascaded over her breasts in front.

   “Make it tight,” Mallory smirked.

   It was a request that needn’t have been made.  Katrina had still many mouths.  She wrapped the leather numerous times around the mouth and the back of Heather’s neck, knotting it with each pass until it was fastened tight with final multiple knots. 

   Heather reared her head up when she was finished, trying in vain to relieve the stress on her cheeks and jaws as the leather sunk deep inside her mouth, cutting at the sides of her lips.

  When it was finished, Mallory dismissed the men, who sulked off indignant they weren’t going to be allowed retribution.

   “I’m well aware that you could probably stay strung up like an angel all day and never feel the urge to talk,” Mallory purred.  “But our time together was not ill spent when it comes to getting what I want from you.  Little details come to mind.  Remember how you used to beg for satisfaction when I would tease you, and deny you?  You were almost beside yourself.  And remember how it took you almost to the edge to see me in the throes of pleasure?”

   Heather wondered where all this was going.  She tried to shift somehow to gain relief, hoping this was not going to be a long re-hashing of past intimacies. Nothing much moved however.

   “Well, I believe we can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,” Mallory stated.  “Katrina, would you escort in our guest?”

   Katrina nodded and left through a door to the side of the room.  Moments later she returned.  Heather’s eyes widened.  Their “guest” was none other than Samantha Duncan.  The frightened teen entered the room, encouraged to do so by a leash snapped onto a collar around her slender neck.  She wore a brief leopard skin thong, and blue leather high heels.  That was all.  She looked around frightened, her eyes latching onto Heather.  Her wrists were fastened together in front with leather cuffs, closely linked, which had been looped tightly around her waist to keep them there.  There were cuffs around her ankles, linked together with some eighteen inches of chain allowing her to take mincing steps.  Like her sister, the tiny blonde was sweating heavily in the stuffy room, her tanned skin shining in the sparse light.  A harness gag tightly held a large red ball gag deeply between her teeth, and drool was spilling from it down onto her chest, merging there with her sweat.  Her blonde hair had been tied into two pigtails, which hung down over her shoulders and jutting breasts, sticking to the wet flesh.

   “I don’t think introductions are necessary,” Mallory smiled. 

   Heather groaned into her gag, making pitiful attempts to struggle.

   “Little Sam-I-Am is getting quite proficient at taking up where big sisters tongue left off,” Mallory taunted.  “I’m thinking even after this is all over, I may just keep her around for entertainment.”

   Heather glared bullets at her captor.

   An instant later her tits were on fire and soon to turn red with Mallory’s fingerprints.  She clenched her eyes shut is they jiggled, their movement sending jolts of pain through her arms.

   Mallory walked over to Samantha and grabbed her small, hard nipples, tugging on them and releasing them to spring back against her heaving torso.  Her hands traveled down to the leopard skin panties, and undid a knot at their side, pulling them free.  Heather snorted into her gag, seeing that Samantha’s previously trimmed pubic region was now totally bald.

   “What do you say we open this little slut up and see what she’ll do,” Amanda chuckled.

   Katrina nodded her approval, and the two set about the task at hand.  Samantha’s hands were freed from her waist, and held above her head while Katrina used a short leather belt to fasten her elbows together.  Samantha’s arms were now fastened uselessly in the air; the elbow tie prevented her from lowering them because her head was now in the way.  They looped and cinched a long length of leather around the wrist cuffs, then wrestled the nude teen to the floor, and removed the chain linking her ankles.  Katrina held her there while Mallory retrieved a spreader bar from against the wall, then they fastened one end to the struggling blonde’s left ankle cuff.  The next part required a bit of teamwork.  Holding Samantha on her back, they worked the spreader bar under and across her back of her neck, and bent her right leg up to meet its other end.  Ignoring the girl’s protests, they fastened her right leg into the cuff at the other end so her legs formed a “V” on each side of her torso.  The length tied to Samantha’s wrists was tossed over a support beam near the ceiling, its trailing end falling to the floor beside them.  Katrina grabbed it and began pulling in the slack.  As Samantha’s arms began to rise, she realized the diabolic nature of her bondage.  Her anatomy dictated that her legs be lowered to better tolerate the strain, but the spreader bar could not overcome the obstruction of her back and neck being in the way.  So up she went until just her butt cheeks touched the floor, her legs raised and spread in such a fashion that her sex practically offered itself for attention.  For a moment, her upward journey halted and Samantha held out hope that it had reached its end.  Mallory and Katrina amused themselves as the tiny blonde pivoted back and forth slightly, her blue clad pumps twisting to relieve the strain.  Their amusement soon ended however, and together the two of them hoisted her into the air.  They continued pulling until her ass was several feet off the floor, then tied the cord off to an obsolete generator, and rested a bit while she swung helplessly.

   Mallory walked over and ran her finger over and around Samantha’s puffy genitals as the young blonde clenched her eyes. 

   “It seems this excitement has drained this little thing of all her natural resources,” Mallory smirked.  “Katrina, can you help her out?”

   Katrina smiled and removed a small bottle from the pocket of her blouse.  She poured a small amount onto her fingers, then rubbed it into Samantha’s crotch, her fingers sinking into the exposed flesh and making certain that there would be no lack of lubrication for what was about to transpire.  More was massaged into and around her ass, then the rest was slathered liberally over the remainder of her body, her tits in particular, until her entire body glistened.  Mallory came into the scene once again carrying a battery-powered, flex head vibrator, and a length of thin, dark leather.  With Katrina’s help, she set about fastening the device securely against Samantha’s exposed labia, pressing the head of it deep into the flesh, and securing it there with the thin leather running up and around, over and under her thighs in a cris-cross fashion.  When they were done, it felt to the young girl like an extension of her anatomy.

   Checking to see there would be no slippage, Mallory twisted the activation knob, setting the vibrator on a medium setting.  Samantha whimpered as the intruder came alive with a low buzzing sound, her body stiffening in reaction.

   “We’ll just let her simmer a bit while I introduce you to our next guests,” Mallory said, walking back over to Heather.

   Katrina once again went to the door, as Heather wondered if they’d brought an entire convention to this party.  Her eyes widened once again as the new guests were none other than the oriental twins.  They wore long, beige colored coats, and black leather lace up boots, with spike heels.  The coats were soon undone to reveal stunning black leather micro bikinis barely capable of concealing their rather abundant attributes. 

    “I believe you may recall these two,” Mallory smiled.  “They are rather anxious to get back in our good graces, as you will soon find out.”

   With a nod from Mallory, the two went to work.  One went to Heather’s front while the other walked around behind her.  Heather felt a pair of hands slip alongside her, gripping and massaging her breasts.  At the same time the one in front began to stimulate her with her tongue.  It was immediately apparent she knew what she was doing.  In spite of her stringent bondage, Heather felt the level of pleasure begin to rise.  The girl’s tongue easily slipped well inside of her, the warm, wet probing making her forget for a time that all was not truly well.  While that was happening, the girl behind her began rubbing her breasts with a vibrating dildo, her nipples becoming erect immediately. 

   Across the room, sixteen year old Samantha was obviously aroused.  She squirmed, s best she could, against what was becoming immensely pleasurable sensations.  Her actions caused her body to sway, but in no way prevented the vibrator from doing its dastardly work.  Mallory decided to help the show along a bit by increasing the vibrator’s speed.  Her tiny form quivered in response, her grey eyes widening as her body trembled.

   “Looks like little sis is enjoying herself,” Mallory taunted.

   She walked over and tickled Heather’s armpit with her fingernails, a maneuver she knew from experience would bring a response from the restrained blonde.  This new sensation seemed ramp up the pleasurable affects of the twin’s assault on her helpless form.  Sweat was trickling down her face, across her breasts, and over her thighs so heavily that she began to look almost as oiled as her younger sister. 

   Samantha’s first orgasm was seismic in nature.  Her body bounced around so violently that Heather feared she would hurt herself.  Drool spilled from her chin down her chest as her head shook back and forth, running in rivers to the peaks of her small pointed nipples, and then dripping down across her delineated rib cage.  Seeing someone so pleasured brought Heather to the same crest, as the young oriental in front stopped licking long enough for the one behind to run the vibrating dildo up and into her wet sex.  While that was tended to, the pussy-licker used her considerable talents on Heather’s large breasts, squeezing them into peaks, and sucking the nipples to stiff erection. As much as she tried to stifle it, her body betrayed her.  The girl’s hands were everywhere now, their fingers working with expert precision to engorge every available capillary, and to excite as many nerve endings designed to bring arousal as feasibly possible.  Heather’s body began to quiver, and obviously leery of failing at their assigned mission, the oriental girls paused momentarily to look at Mallory.  Familiar with her former lover, Mallory motioned for them to continue until she began to see mottled patches appear on Heather’s tanned flesh.  She waited a few moments more.

   “Stop,” she ordered simply, at which point all attentions ceased.

   Heather flexed her legs, anguished that what had seemed so near was apparently going to be lost.

   As the two oriental girls backed away, Mallory stepped forward.  She stroked the tips of the helpless blonde’s engorged nipples, as Samantha once again cried out in pleasure, her small form rippling in the throes of pleasure.

   “Wouldn’t you like to be in her shoes,” Mallory purred.

   Heather gave her a look that was both pleading and angered.  Already her body was losing the arousal that had dominated her senses.  She clenched her eyes shut, but only for a moment.  The bite of cold, jagged steel on her still sensitive nipples demanded her attention.  She looked down to see tiny alligator clips, their teeth gnawing at the tender flesh, fastened on to them.  They were connected by silver chain.  Heather wanted to scream out, but her resolve denied it.  Mallory laughed at her, grabbing the connecting chain and tugging on it until her nipples were extended painfully away from her chest.  Then she released it, the flesh springing back into place and the chain slapping against her rib cage.

   Heather’s couldn’t suppress a wail though when the plastic switch fell sharply against her thighs.  It fell three times against her right one, then a half dozen more times against her left.  It was Katrina who delivered them.

   “I find a little pain serves well measured pleasure nicely,” Mallory smiled.

   Three more were delivered in rapid succession across Heather’s butt.  Then the twins were ordered back to once again work their magic on the helpless girl.

   The process repeated itself.  The oriental girls performed so admirably as to earn praise from Mallory and Katrina.  Again and again Heather was brought to the brink of mind numbing orgasm, just to have it jerked from under her like a cheap rug.  It was well into the night when Heather was finally let down, her arms and legs numbed from her hours in bondage.  Samantha was hauled out so limp with exhaustion she had to be carried.  Heather was dragged to a corner of the dank room, and her gag released.  She spat out the sodden panties, only to have it replaced with a four inch ball gag.  Her arm binder was replaced with stainless steel handcuffs, fastened around and I-beam support post.  Then for good measure her ankles were crossed and bound with the leather thong used to gag her.  That would keep her from standing.  When they were done, Mallory bent down close.

   “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” Mallory taunted her.  “You probably thought I was going to try to get you to talk after all that.”

   Mallory reached down and tugged on the clips still clamped tightly on the blonde girl’s nipples.  Heather swung her head to the side, her sweat-matted hair flying over her shoulder as she tried to avoid looking at her antagonist.

   “That would be too easy,” Mallory continued.  “I’m thinking days, or even weeks of this are in order.  As much as I enjoy seeing this heaped on you, I think I enjoy ‘Sam I am’ even more.”

   Mallory dropped the chain connecting the nipple clamps, and stood.

   “I’ll see she repays Katrina tonight for all those fantastic pleasures we gave her,” she said, walking towards the door.  “She’s getting quite good, you know.”

   Heather was seething.

   “Sleep good down here, I doubt the rodents will find you as tasty as I.”

   She blew the  blonde a kiss, and left.

1   Heather leaned back against the post and shut her eyes.  Her body was slick with sweat, and the dirt of the floor.  She waited for a good thirty minutes, then scooted on her haunches as far from the post as the handcuffs allowed.  Extending her foot she was able to get one of her toes around the tattered shorts, tugging them back with her towards the post.  She curled her legs up beside her, wincing at the burn it caused her strained thigh muscles.  At last, she got them to where she could grab them with her hands.  For the first time in what seemed forever, she smiled.  Her FIT training had taught her nothing if not to prepare for multiple types of situations.  Carefully sewn into the waistband was a metal wire.  She had been afraid they might discover it when they cut away her clothing, but the men had been so intent on seeing what was underneath they never noticed.

   It was laborious.  What normally would have taken seconds, took many minutes due to the numbed nature of her arms, and the fact that they were secured behind her.  But at last enough of the fabric parted to expose the metal tip, and from there it was easily removed.  Getting to the lock mechanism proved difficult, but Heather was patient.  She had done this hundreds of time in her sleep, but always then, her hands and fingers were less stressed.  After several cursed failures, she at last succeeded, the cuffs springing free.  She brought her arms around to the front, and carefully removed the awful nipple clamps, examining the deep groves left in her delicate flesh.  She massaged the aching joints, and stretched some life back into her pained shoulders.  Her ankle bonds were easily seen to, but then came the real challenge.  Heather had no clothes, and no idea where she was.  She decided for now, she’d have to make do with her tattered remnants still lying scattered about on the floor.  Playing the part of a peasant seamstress, she assembled them into makeshift clothing, and crept out of the dank room.  It led into a workshop, and there she found a pair of shop overalls, as well as a ball cap.  She slipped into the overalls, turning her nose at how her sore nipples rubbed against the rough fabric, stuffed her hair under the cap, and set off in search of a way out.

______________________________________________________________________________

   The scene the next morning in the bowels of the old coal plant was not pleasant.  Mallory cursed a blue streak, then ordered everyone away except for Katrina and Samantha.  Samantha let out a muffled laugh from behind her gag, which drew a barrage of stripes across her tits with the switch. 

   “How the fuck....” Mallory hissed.

   Katrina said nothing, instead kneeling and holding up the piece of wire near the cuffs.

   “Damn her,” Mallory spat.  “DAMN HER”

   She turned to Samantha.  Grabbing a length of thin leather, she tied it around the girls strap holding the teen’s wrists some six inches apart in front of her.  She threaded it between her legs and up to the leather welding her elbows behind her back.  She looped it over those bindings, and pulled hard, the leather sinking deep into her crotch.  Once it was as tight as she could manage, she tied it off to those elbow bonds, not concerned in the least with the distress it caused their young captive.

   “These next days will not be at all pleasant for you,” Mallory hissed menacingly.

   Grabbing the crotch-rope from the front, the three hastily left.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Heather sat in the back of the limousine, her mind a blur.  She hated not being able to free Sam, but as Keri had told her, the young girl was relatively safe as long as she was free.  And she was.  She had found some mail which contained the address of the building, realizing she was only a short distance outside of Vegas.  One of a handful of trucks parked in the makeshift parking lot had its keys in the ignition, and she used the opportunity to hightail it back to the metropolitan area.  At one of the posh resorts on the edge of the city, she made a phone call to headquarters under the watchful eye of a desk clerk who wasn’t accustomed to seeing clientele dressed as she was.  In minutes the clerk received payment, and Heather was escorted to a room at his obvious disgust.  Heather would make it a point to later introduce herself, once she had cleaned up and slipped into scant, and see if he still thought her unfit for such a place.

   But a hot shower, some food, and a wardrobe were her first priorities.  Once those items were out of the way, she found herself craving companionship.  She knew that such an upscale resort would have a goodly number of eligible bachelors running around, so she decided to take a spin on the casino floor to see what was available.  She made an eye-popping sight, wearing a red halter style mini-dress with a deep “V” front.  It looped around her neck at the back with a spaghetti strap, then the two panels tapered out to cover her breasts coming together again several inches below her navel. Another spaghetti strap brought the two panels towards one another a couple of inches below her breasts, allowing her some modesty when she bent over.  It continued at a similar point from the side of the panels around her back, leaving the rest of her back and sides bare.  The outer edges of the fabric flared at the hips, going around behind her and just covering the swell of her ass. Matching red high heeled sandals and loop earrings completed the outfit.

   She took a seat at a roulette table, watching for a time as a young man built a small fortune.  Heather took a liking to him.  He was probably about twenty-five, athletically built, and somewhat casually dressed for a place such as this.  He wore a blue pressed long-sleeved shirt, with khaki slacks, and loafers with no socks.  He nodded and smiled as Heather sat down, and didn’t seem particularly impressed with her, but not rude either. After several spins of the pea, Heather slapped down a goodly stack of chips, all on red.  That seemed to get his attention.

      The pea was released, and bounded around for a time, almost settling on black, but alas skipping over into a red slot.  Heather smiled as the wad of chips was doubled, and let it ride.  Two more times, she came up a winner, at which point Heather decided this wasn’t going to lead to anything more than a good economical endeavor, and she indicated she wanted to cash out.  The man in the pit nodded and replaced her winnings with the higher value chips, and she turned to leave.

   “Red seems to be your color,” the man smiled.

   “Am I blushing?” she teased.

   “Not anywhere I can see,” the man joked back, taking a look at her entirety.

   “I’m not really much for gambling,” Heather smiled, turning to leave.

   “Could I buy you a drink?” the man asked.

   “They’re free here, aren’t they?” she said, bending over as if to something off the floor.

   “It’s much quieter over there,” the man motioned to a mostly empty lounge off to the side.

   Heather looked at him for a minute.

   “Think we can afford it,” she laughed.

   With that, the man indicated he too was ready to call it good, and the tow left the table with a small fortune.

   The two spent the next couple of hours in the lounge making small talk.  Heather learned his name was Lee, and that he and his father co-owned an asphalt company in Alabama.  Business had been good, so Lee had decided to take a week and enjoy himself.  Heather told him she worked in fashion design, and had even designed her own dress.

   “I see why you’re successful,” Lee said toasting to success.

   Finally, Heather told him she was ready to turn in for the evening.  Their eyes met briefly, and each saw in the other a loneliness born of a life without an abundance of passion.  Heather stood and turned to leave, then turned back.

   “Tell me you’re not married,” she asked.

   “Don’t have time,” he said.

   There was an awkward silence, then Heather extended her hand.  He grabbed it, the two leaving together for her suite.

   They were no more in the door when they turned to face each other, and then embraced in a long probing kiss.  Heather slipped out of her heels, her hands seeking his belt, while Lee peeled his shirt.  He slipped his hands under the spaghetti straps, pulling the panels to the side.  Heather’s erect nipples made the task more difficult, but at last they popped free, her large breasts bobbing on her chest.  His hands moved to them, cupping their fullness, his thumbs rubbing the nipples still tender form the previous night.  Heather forced the dress down over her hips and stepped out of it.  Her black thong followed, and the two embraced once again, moving towards the bedroom as they explored each other.  Somewhere along the way Lee lost his boxers, his erection caught between Heather’s thighs.  She squeezed her legs, pumping more blood into his stiff member, then they fell back onto the bed.  He eagerly licked at her engorged nipples, as she looked at him with glassy eyes.  A minute later she was impaled on him, her legs wrapping around his waist as if he might change his mind.  They rolled over so Lee was on his back, his hands filling with the warm muscularity of her firm butt, forcing her onto him harder.  Heather tossed her hair back, and the sight of her with her large, firm breasts bounding energetically up and down excited him further.  She rode him hard, his size filling her, her natural lubrication making the journey up and down as pleasurable for him as it was for her.  He suppressed a desire to explode, successfully savoring the moment until she too could be pleasured, then finally they came as one, his hot sperm filling her as if shot form a cannon.  Heather knelt there for a moment, feeling his fullness subside inside of her.  She bent over, her firm breasts squashing against his chest, her lips pressed against his. 

   “Does this always happen when a man buys you a drink,” he grinned.

   “Only after my chips are cashed in,” she laughed.

   She left from the bed, returning moments later with a wet wash rag.  She tenderly cleaned him, then knelt on the bed, taking the length of his penis into her warm mouth.  Lee felt himself coming around once more, her breathtaking beauty making the task much easier.  She worked slowly up and down, her hand, gently squeezing his testicles.  Her long hair draped across his thighs, and the vision of her muscular back was an attractive sight from where he lay.  She soon had him back to a stiff erection, guiding him once again inside her.  Her vaginal muscles clenched him, and several minutes later she had once again milked him dry, her cries of pleasure merging with his.  They lay together for a time, quietly, their bodies spent.  Eventually, they dozed off in each other’s arms.  For Lee, there were pleasant thought that the rest of his vacation might be spent in this nightly passion.  For Heather, she knew it wouldn’t be. 

______________________________________________________________________________

   “When we are done here, once I have thoroughly fucked the shit out of you, you are going to lick me like a dog licks peanut butter,” Mallory hissed, her voice breaking with the thrusting motions.

   Much to Samantha’s regret, Mallory’s word seemed to be coming true.  The plane ride that morning out of Vegas took them back to the high desert country, and Mallory had wasted no time in seeing that Samantha got right down to business.

   Samantha was whimpering, the sounds varying with Mallory’s thrusts.  She was tied down, her wrists and elbows belted tight behind her, and flat on the floor.  A cord ran from them to ring in the floor some feet away.  Her legs had been folded up over her head and her ankles had been bound individually to rings at the other end of the room.  Her position resembled that of someone doing a somersault.  Mallory was fucking her with a large green strap-on, belted tightly around her hips.  Samantha couldn’t imagine how the thing stayed on in the face of such furious onslaught.  Neither girl was deriving a great deal of physical pleasure form the endeavor, but Mallory was certainly enjoying it more.  It seemed to be a statement of ‘I can do whatever I want with you’ kind of thing. 

   True to her word, when she finally tired of raping the young blonde, she untied her legs, and dragged her to a kneeling position, then fastened her ankles to her thighs.  She removed the strap-on, grabbing a handful of Samantha’s blonde locks and shoving her nose into her nude pussy.  Samantha heeded the advice, eagerly licking Mallory’s pussy until she heard the woman begin to gain pleasure.  She continued on, her tongue beginning to cramp from her rapid thrusts, until finally Mallory’s thighs trembled, and Samantha felt the warm slick juices coating her sliding down her throat.  Samantha paused, but Mallory crammed her face back into her steamy sex.

   “Clean me, you little bitch,” she demanded.

   Samantha clenched her eyes, and finished the task fearful of what might happen if she didn’t.

   When she was done, Mallory undid her legs, dragging the girl to her feet.  Her mouth and face were glistening with Mallory’s juices, and her tits were thrust out from the elbow bonds.  Mallory slipped a collar around her neck, and by way of a snap-on leash, escorted Samantha back to the shower.

______________________________________________________________________________

   AT 5:30 am Heather snuck out of her room, leaving an exhausted Lee to awake to an empty bed hours later.  From a secure phone in the lobby she phoned Keri, who asked if she was interested in an assignment.

   “What is it? She asked.

   “Do you have private on-line access?” Keri asked.

   “There’s a terminal in the lounge here at the resort,” Heather answered.

   Keri sighed.  Heather seemed to always be living high on the town.  Of course she was unaware of what her blonde friend had to endure to earn it.

   “Go to our assignment page and type in 7228799-9942,” Keri said.  “You’ll get the details there.  It might just be up your alley.”

   After the conversation ended, curiosity got the better of her, and she heeded Keri’s advice.  It was an interesting assignment.  There had been a flurry of F.I.R.M activity in the San Diego area, and they had been able to determine vacant properties were being use by them to finance their shady activities.  In short, they were using vacant or abandoned buildings to house chop shops, and to smuggle large amounts of drugs into the country.  There had been some question as to how they were going about finding these properties, and some investigative work had turned up an unlikely source.  Heather looked at the screen, downloaded some two pages of information to the printer nearby, sent the order for her transportation to pick her up, then closed out the screen.

   She tucked the information into her tote bag, took a look around the lobby, and left.

______________________________________________________________________________

    Bailey Boswell settled into her chair and logged on to the company computer.  It was becoming an easy task for her, the anxiety of her earlier late night escapades giving way to confidence that she wouldn’t be caught.  Bailey was a 17 year old high school graduate spending the summer working at her dad’s company.  It didn’t pay much, and that had been disappointing, but her father told her that he would foot the bill for her tuition at the college of her choosing if she worked the summer for him.  She spent her days working and her night partying.  It was a boring lifestyle until she met the strange new friend.  Elizabeth was everything Bailey had never been.  She was tough, carefree, seemingly had loads of cash, and also had some ideas as to how Bailey could get rich as well.  It was a relationship that started midway through her senior year, and gradually Elizabeth Summers had brought the young teen into the F.I.R.M organization.  Bailey didn’t know all about the renegade group.  But she liked what she saw.  Here was a chance for adventure.  It was kind of like living the life of a spy, and the more of it she saw, the more of it she liked.  It seemed simple enough.  All they wanted was for her to get information of newly abandoned property, or foreclosures, and secretly remove the property from the public listings.  Then the organization would obtain the property for a fraction of its worth, using the abandoned buildings to fund their activities in the form of chop-shops, and drug smuggling.  Bailey made a tidy sum, and no one at Lancelot Mortgage seemed to notice.

   Bailey had the type of body that got most girls her age into trouble. She stood 5' 7" tall and weighed 122 lbs.  She had nice round thirty-three inch breasts that fell firmly in the C-cup range. That all tapered down to a twenty-two inch waist, before widening to thirty-two inches at the hips.  She had brown eyes, and brown flawless skin.  Her hair was long and dark brown, and very straight.  She had fought that part for a time, but nothing she did seemed to give it body, so she left it alone and grew to like it.

   She always dressed nicely when she did her mischief.  She figured if she ever got caught she would make up an excuse for needing to catch up on work, but up to now, no excuse had been necessary.  On this evening she wore a short black cotton dress, and platform sandals, all of which showed her lovely long legs, and her red toenails beautifully.  Above that she wore a white tank top, tight fitting, that exposed her midriff, and the dainty silver chain that fell from her belly piercing.  A pair of shell earrings dangled from her lobes, the silver chain glinting in the fluorescent lighting of the small office. 

   It could have been any of a dozen previous nights.  Bailey did her thing, then sent the information via her laptop to Elizabeth.  She was wrapping up her work, proud that a couple of prime locations were now off the public listings.  That would bring her a tidy sum.  She logged off the computer, and turned to leave, and that was where the routine came to an end.  In the doorway of the small office was the spandex clad form of a woman.  The spandex was all black, and Bailey could see by the contours that the stranger was well endowed.  A black ball cap sat on her head, and it appeared her hair had been wound, and tucked up under the cap.  A few blonde strands peeked out, a few more running to her shoulders near her ears.

   “You’ve been a bad girl Miss Boswell,” Heather said.

   “Who the fuck are you?” Bailey demanded, grabbing her laptop and her notes.

   Heather laughed.

   “I’m your Fairy Godmother come to set you straight,” Heather smiled.

   “Get out of here,” Bailey spat, her anger equaling her fear.

   “Or what, you’ll call your father?” Heather smiled.

   Bailey was silent.  This woman knew more than Bailey could have imagined.

   “What do you say you and I sit down and have a look at that laptop? Heather smiled moving towards the teen.

   There was a desk between the two of them, and Bailey made a dash towards the door behind her.  Heather smiled and leaped onto the desk in one bound, and leapt through the door with the next.  She tackled the teen, the laptop spinning away from her and across a tile portion of the floor. 

   It was an unequal struggle.  Heather was a trained fighter versed in a number of combat arts.  Bailey was a looker who finagled her way out of tight spots with her body, and an ability to stretch the truth, neither of which would serve her now.  Heather planted herself in the middle of the girls back, and yanked her head up.

    “Are we going to do this the easy way, or the hard way?” she hissed.

   Bailey fought for all she was worth trying to buck the woman off her back.

   “As you wish,” Heather said calmly, stuffing the teen’s mouth with a nerf ball. 

   She released the girl’s hair momentarily, scooting forward to pin Bailey’s arms to her sides as she fastened the foam ball in place with a zip-tie.  Bailey was making muffled noises through the foam ball, and those turned to desperate squeals when her arms were jerked up perpendicular to her back, and joint-locked in place.  Heather swung her legs around them in a graceful motion, locking them into a painful position that freed her hands to do further work.

   “You’re running with a bad crowd, Miss Boswell,” Heather hissed, crossing the girls wrists and zip-tying them tight.   “They’re just using you to get what they want.”

   Bailey was kicking her feet up and down, whimpering into the gag.  Her whimpers turned to wails as another tie went around her elbows, cinching them tightly together as well.

   Heather unfurled her legs allowing Bailey’s arms to drop to a more comfortable position.  The young girl immediately twisted them around, working her wrists in a vain attempt to loosen the ties.

   “I wouldn’t trouble yourself,” Heather grinned.  “Those ties would hold a linebacker.”

   Bailey glared at her captor.

   “Have a seat, Miss Boswell,” Heather said shoving Bailey into a side chair.

   She retrieved the laptop from the floor and brought it over to the girl, pulling up a chair beside her.  She flipped it open, waiting for the login screen to appear.  As she waited, she reached over and snipped the tie holding the foam ball in place.  Bailey immediately spit the offending ball to the floor.

   “Let me go right now!!” Bailey spat.

   Heather looked at the girl with a smirk.

   “Well now, you help me out a bit, and I’ll see what I can do,” Heather cautioned the girl.

   “Go fuck yourself you bitch,” Bailey snarled.  “My friends will nail you good for this.”

   “Your friends are your problem,” Heather admonished her.  “Slime takes all kinds of different persona, and don’t think they won’t kick you to the curb the first time you piss them off.”

   “Who the hell are you?” Bailey hissed, once again working her arms feverishly against her bonds.

   “I told you, I’m your Fairy Godmother,” Heather said.  “Now, let’s get down to business.  Your password please.”

   Bailey pouted.  Then the anger returned.

   “My password is Y-O-U-C-U-N-T” she smirked.

   “OK, you get one pass,” Heather said matter-of-factly.  “Try again.”

   “Oh, that didn’t work,” Bailey angrily replied.  “How about P-I-S-S-O-N-Y-O-U.”

   Heather calmly set the laptop down, and moved over to the girl.

   “Get up,” Heather commanded.

   “NO!!” came the emphatic reply.

   Heather reached down and grabbed the girl by her nipples, her strong hand bringing a yelp of pain even with the tank-top and bra between.  It was enough to convince her to comply.  Heather grabbed a pair of scissors.

   “One more chance to give me the password,” she snarled.

   “Never,” Bailey said defiantly.

   Heather slipped the sharpened blade under the front of the tank top, and slit it neatly from bottom to top.  Another two cuts at the shoulders and it fell free.

   “What are you, some kind perverted lesbo?” Bailey queried angrily.

   “Only half the time,” Heather smiled.

   Bailey stood staring dumbfounded.  Her arms were beginning to hurt, but even worse was the way her breasts were shoving against the cups of her lacy, teal colored bra.   Heather raised the scissors up, and seconds later Bailey’s tits popped into view, fine and round, and no tan-lines.

   “You stinking bitch,” Bailey fumed.  “How dare you.”

   “You can stop this little exercise any time,” Heather shot back.

   “And you can save your stinking ass by letting me go,” Bailey shot back.

   She once again twisted her arms, but succeeded only in jiggling her exposed breasts.

   “Very well,” Heather sighed. “It’s your choice.’

______________________________________________________________________________

  Bailey Boswell had no idea how long it had been.  The nightmarish evening had turned into the nightmarish morning.  She had been stripped, bound, humiliated, and left to be discovered by whoever got to the office first.  She whimpered and struggled once again against her bonds, the dildo still humming merrily away inside her. 

   It had taken a great deal of time, and at one point she got the distinct impression that her antagonist was greatly enjoying herself.  The turning point had been the binder clips.  Bailey held out admirably until then.  But when the sensitive flesh was harshly pinched between the two edges of the cold steel, she caved. 

   Heather accessed the laptop, spending about a half hour going through the sent files, and then forwarding the information to headquarters.  Once the binder clips came off, Bailey was back in form, cursing the blonde agent with a venomous tirade that eventually landed her in her current predicament.  And it was indeed a predicament.  Her wrists and elbows were still tightly zip tied behind her back, her arms having long since lost all feeling.  She had been bent over the back of a heavy high-backed chair, and her ankles were affixed to the back legs with more plastic ties keeping her legs spread.  She was naked except for her platform sandals, and her teal colored panties which had been knotted at the side so they dug into her waist.  The purpose of this was to keep the dildo in place, humming away like a butterfly inside her.  Her belly was over the top of the chair back, and a piece of phone cable was tied to her wrists, and then up to a plant hook in the ceiling.  Her arms had been pulled into the air, keeping her bent over, her stomach rubbing against the leather chair.  Her hair had been knotted to her elbows, so that her head was pulled up and back, drool spilling down her chin around the foam ball once again packed into her mouth, and pooling on the seat of the chair.  Heather had taken the liberty of cutting her black skirt and fashioning a blindfold over Bailey’s dark eyes.  Another strip went around her ears cutting off most sound.

   And that was how Grace Green found her.  Grace had not slept well.  The 38 year old former model had started working at Lancelot Mortgage only a week before.  She felt that since she couldn’t sleep, maybe she could go in early to work and get some things organized.  She still had that look about her that would turn men’s heads, though the radiance of her youth was behind her.  Her dark hair was cut short now, but it still shone and had nice body.  Her large breasts had perhaps drooped a bit by model standards, but still pushed against the front of her blouse nicely.  Her legs were probably the best part of her anatomy.  Long and firm, she exercised regularly to keep the effects of age at arm’s length, and they showed them off beautifully in the black spike heels.

   She was well inside the office before she first noticed anything was wrong.  She had avoided turning on the large bank of florescent lights, not wanting anyone driving by to notice anyone was there.  So it was that she practically bumped into Bailey, as she moved through the office.  At first, she thought someone had been hurt, as she heard the muffled grunts of the pained girl.  She stepped back, and for the first time realized just what the situation was.  She stood motionless for a time, both curious, and wary, that maybe someone was still in the office and might not appreciate her being there.  After a time, she realized no one else was around, and her curiosity took over.  She was reasonably sure she had not been detected.  Grace examined the sleek, long legs, trembling as they were from the strain of the position.  She gasped.  She knew those legs.  They belonged to Bailey Boswell.  The little tramp had come to the office to play out her kinky fantasies.  She started to turn and leave, but turned back.  Her bondage wasn’t the kind that would be mutually agreed upon.  The plastic ties were cruelly applied; the position demanding.  Bailey was sweating heavily from the strenuous position.  This was no lover’s game.  She saw the laptop, opened and on.  She crept over to it, and looked at the multiple emails.  A smile crept across her face.  So, the little bitch was backstabbing her own father.  How interesting.  Then she heard the humming.  She’d heard it originally, but thought it was just a machine humming in the background.  She saw Bailey squirm her hips, and she knew that something was rattling around inside her.  She crept back over and stood next to the young teen.  Then she reached down and grabbed Bailey’s breasts.  Bailey jerked like someone who had just about stepped on a snake, her muffled moans becoming urgent.  Those moans turned into wails as the tightly bound girl realized this person was not there to rescue her.  Grace pinched and squeezed the lovely nipples, remembering the chastisement Bailey had given her for spilling a cup of coffee in the break room.  That had only been the first of a steady stream of insults directed her way.  Bailey found fault in most everything Grace did, from having too many pens on her desk, to taking a package next door that was delivered to the wrong address.  And she wasn’t about to allow this chance at retribution to pass.  She walked behind the girl, her hand slipping between Bailey’s legs to feel the dildo buzzing away just under the lace panties.  The panties were soaked with both sweat, and the girl’s own lubrication. 

   She stepped back, and it was all she could do to keep from busting out laughing.  Bailey’s ass was quivering, and Grace decided it to be too good a target to pass up.  She walked to a nearby closet, and grabbed a yardstick out of an umbrella holder, and returned.  She took her best two-handed baseball grip, reared back, and let fly.  The resulting smack immediately sent the teen into hysterics.  Her wrists twisted in the tight ties, and Grace stopped long enough to be certain nothing was coming loose.  It wasn’t.  Whoever had done this knew what they were doing.  So Grace continued, loving every solid blow until the young brat’s behind began to glow crimson.  After ten minutes or so, Grace decided it was enough.  She returned the yardstick to its place, and then walked back over to the bound girl.  She reached out and pinched the nostrils shut, grinning as the frightened Bailey once again began to thrash around.  She held them for a good minute, then released them, watching as they flared open and shut in an effort to regain lost oxygen.  She looked at her watch.  As much as she was enjoying herself, Grace decided it would be best to leave before some other insomniac showed up and spoiled the party.  So she left as quietly as she came, leaving the helplessly restrained teen to be discovered several hours later.

______________________________________________________________________________

   Heather took the red-eye from San Diego to Seattle, meeting up with Keri there.  The two spent the morning at Pike Street Market, then had a bowl of clam chowder for lunch, and then walked around the downtown killing time.  Keri had dinner plans with one of the brass F.I.T members that evening.  She didn’t tell Heather, but she was hoping to get some information on where Samantha and Alicia might be held.  She didn’t want to get her friend’s hopes up, so she would wait until after the meeting to dispense any information, if indeed there was any.

   “So how did things go in San Diego?” Keri asked.

   Heather laughed.

   “Fine,” she smiled.  “I don’t think those rats will have their way down there for a time.”

   “Tell me,” Keri went on, “what’s it like drawing information out of an unwilling subject.”

   “Depends on the subject,” Heather sighed.

   “OK, more specifically, what’s it like drawing information out of a beautiful, young, unwilling subject,” Keri laughed.

   Again, Heather smiled.

   “You rather enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Keri said, stopping and putting her hands firmly on her hips.

   “That surprises you?” Heather asked.  “You said it might be up my alley.”

   Keri bit her lip.

   “Do you ever worry that you will become like those people?” she finally said.

   “Keri.....” Heather said disgustedly.

   “I’m just asking,” Keri said.

   They walked without talking.  Heather was wrestling with what her friend had said.  There was more than a grain of truth to it.  Heather found that she had indeed enjoyed herself.  In the midst of her interrogation of the young teen, she found herself secretly hoping Bailey Boswell would hold out, maybe calling for more extreme measures.  She had known from the beginning that she could extract the needed information in short order, but elected instead to draw it out.  She chided herself into believing it was for the girl’s own good, but deep down she enjoyed the role of tormenting her.  After arriving in Seattle early that morning, she had checked into the hotel, and gone to bed still hearing Bailey’s moans of pleasure as she had been toyed with.  It seemed she could even smell the girl’s fragrance on her pillow, and feel the firmness of her youthful breasts against her fingers.  She had struggled with those feeling all morning, and now, as if on cue, her friend brought them close to the surface once again.

  “Well,” Keri said at last, “maybe I can help you through it later,” she smiled.

   The two shared a laugh before parting ways.

   “See you around 8 tonight,” Keri said, giving her a peck on the cheek.

   Heather nodded, and watched Keri walk away.

Alicia’s chin bobbed up and down, the drool spilling from her chin down onto her chest would stream unbroken until a particularly hard bounce would sever it.  A day with Jamie was bound to lead into uncharted territory, and this day was no exception.  Despite being thoroughly showered and scrubbed to begin the day, Alicia was now lathered in sweat, but all-in-all that was the least of her worries. 

   Jamie called it a ‘day in the desert.’  Alicia called it a ‘day in hell.’  They rode on the back of Jamie’s horse, a rugged, chestnut colored animal she called Buster.  Before the ride started, a nude ball gagged Alicia was put in a black leather harness of sorts.  It fit over her head and shoulders, with each arm going inside a sleeve of its own so that her fingers formed a point at the tip.  The harness fell to just below her breasts, but had openings for that part of her anatomy to bulge through with a strip of leather running between connecting the portion of the harness above her breasts to that below.  It had shiny rings, and straps at strategic places in front, and Alicia had little doubt that before the day was through she would learn a portion of their many uses.  It laced tight in back, and Jamie laced it much tighter than Alicia would have thought necessary.  A strap and a buckle were at the tip of each sleeve.  Alicia’s arms were brought around behind her and crossed, the strap from the tip of one sleeve brought around front, and threaded through the buckle on the opposite sleeve, then tightened.  The process was repeated on the other sleeve.  Then the whole thing was repeated two more times, each time more slack being drawn, until the stretched tips of the sleeves overlapped in front.  The whole arrangement was so tight that Alicia could hardly gather any movement from either limb.  Jamie looked at the finished product, nodding approvingly.  A leash with a snap was fixed to a ring at the neck of the harness, and Alicia was led to the stables.  They climbed a set of stairs as Buster was brought out by one of the male work-hands.  The first thing Alicia noticed was that he had a double saddle.  Alicia had ridden horses, and knew of them, but it was the first time she had seen one in person.  It was the second thing she noticed that caused her great consternation.  In the center of the first saddle was a hole about two inches in diameter and two inches deep, with threaded grooves running down it.

   “Just as you ordered ma’am,” the man grinned.

   “Thanks Hans,” Jamie smiled.  “You always do good work.”

   Hans climbed the steps up to where they stood, while Jamie fished around in the leather bag she intended to bring with them.  She brought out a phallus, shiny and black, with male threads at the base.  Next came the lubricant, and she spread it around the entirety of the flexible monster, as Alicia looked on horrified.  Jamie knelt and carefully screwed the base of the phallus into the threads on the saddle, then stood with her hands on her hips and smiled.

   “Let’s get her saddled up Hans,” Jamie said.

   Alicia tried to back away, but was stopped by Jamie grabbing the leash she’d fastened on earlier.  Jamie handed the leash to Hans, then bounded down the steps and stood beside the horse.  Hans gripped the young girl by the connected sleeves in front, and her crossed arms in back, and hoisted her into the air, holding her out over the saddle so she was poised just over the tip of the intended target.  As Hans lowered her, Jamie saw to it that everything was aligned properly, and Alicia was gingerly lowered onto it.  Her eyes widened as it slid into place, its cool length almost enough to take her breath away.  Her feet sought out the stirrups in an attempt to push herself off of it, but found that there were no stirrups.  Jamie grabbed her right leg folding it like it was nothing until Alicia’s ankle met her thigh, then she wrapped a black leather belt around the doubled joint locking it in place.  Alicia’s other leg met the same fate.  A strip of supple leather was worked through her folded right leg at the knee, and knotted, the free end running under the horses belly, and retrieved on the other side.  It was threaded through her left leg in the same fashion, then pulled tight, forcing her legs to press hard against the horse’s sides, then it too was knotted.

   Alicia could feel the thing flex inside her as she teetered atop the animal.  Her arms pulled against their leather restraints, and she made tiny, feeble noises behind the gag.

   “I’ll take it from here,” Jamie said, dismissing Hans with a nod of thanks.

   After leading Buster away from the edge of the platform, Jamie did a once around, inspecting the entire arrangement.  Satisfied, she climbed on, seating herself in the saddle behind Alicia.  Before beginning, Jamie pawed at the girl’s tits, pinching at the nipples drawn taut and prominent by the arm restraints.  Then they began.

   For the first mile, Alicia felt as if she was being fucked by the earth itself.  Every bounce, every bump, traveled up through the horse itself, gathered itself at the saddle, then charged up the phallus.  From there, it wound through her belly, before exiting at her breasts, but not before doing a couple of victory laps around her quivering nipples.  Making matters worse, Jamie felt the need to squeeze her tits every minute or so, as if to assure herself that no amount of bouncing around was going to reduce their stupendous nature.

   Alicia tried to convince herself there was a purpose to all this.  She had heard talk of something big.  Not specifics, but she knew a feast of sorts was being planned for that evening.  There was solace in that.  As bad as this was, it could go on no longer than early afternoon, for that was when the preparations were to begin.  But that still gave them four hours or better.  More than enough time for Jamie to enjoy herself at Alicia’s expense. The ride went for three miles.  It was nondescript country, except for the distant mountains.  It was hot.  Alicia guessed it was about ninety, but in the black leather halter, it seemed more like 200.  Finally Jamie pulled on the reins, and Buster’s gait ceased, at last allowing Alicia some relief.  They were down in a creek bed, at least that’s what it looked like, and next to a low hanging tree branch.  Jamie removed a length of leather from her saddle pouch, threading it through one of the stainless rings on the front of Alicia’s harness.  She dismounted, and released the leather cord holding Alicia’s doubled legs against the sides of the horse.  Then she tossed the leather strip fastened to the halter over the branch of the tree, grabbing the loose end as it fell.  She reeled in the slack, and then continued to pull as the line came tight.  Alicia felt her body being pulled free of the imposed impalement, at last the flexible phallus coming free with a slight pop.  She dangled in the air, as Jamie gave a command, and Buster moved out from underneath her.  Then she was lowered to the ground, and her ankles freed from her thighs.

   “Get up,” came Jamie’s simple command.

   That was easier said than done.  After riding several miles with her legs tightly bound, and being stuffed to the hilt and jostled with each of Buster’s steps, Alicia found rising with her still tightly restrained arms an enormous task.  She gathered her feet under her, finally lifting herself off the dusty ground, and stood with a somewhat disdained look.

   “A day out here is just hard to beat,” Jamie said, motioning with her arm to the surrounding country.  “Lots of sky, fresh air, and a young girl to lick my pussy.”

   Alicia closed her eyes with disgust. 

   “That wasn’t a request,” Jamie went on grabbing the leash and walking down towards the water.

   At the edge of the pool, Jamie paused to remove her clothing.  She did so as casually as one might scratch an itch, and minutes later her impressive physique was as naked as her captive.  More so, actually, due to Alicia’s harness. 

   “Now, get to work,” Jamie hissed, sitting on a large flat rock at the edge of the pool.  “We still have things to do, and I would advise you to be swift and efficient.”

   Alicia hesitated at the waters edge.  She was certain that it would be cold, but as she stepped into it, she was surprised to find it warm.  It was, in fact, the product of an underground spring, naturally heated, and ultimately soothing to Alicia’s weary legs.  Jamie indicated she should kneel in front of her, and reached out, undoing the foul gag, and pulling it free.  Alicia was afforded little time to relieve her aching jaws before she found her face crammed into her captor’s waiting sex.  Jamie grabbed a handful of Alicia’s dark hair, forcing her nose and mouth onto her, the smooth, bald flesh already with a musky scent.  It was blessedly over in ten minutes time, the young girl performing her duties in a style that was becoming all too familiar.  Jamie took a few minutes to recuperate, sliding into the water to bathe, and lying on her back to kick almost casually at the surface of the bubbling. 

   Alicia waded to a shallow and sat, as Jamie grabbed her straw cowboy hat, and pulled it down over her eyes.  It was quiet, and for a time Alicia actually enjoyed herself, the fresh air and sunlight a blessed change from the stale gags that had been imposed on her recently.  As she sat, she became aware that Jamie was beginning to breathe heavily.  She watched the woman’s muscular breasts rise and fall, her flesh gleaming in the late morning sunlight.  She didn’t know how long she watched, but the realization that Jamie was asleep hit her like a brick.  Her heart began to beat rapidly.  In the whole time she and Samantha had been in the clutches of this group, this kind of chance had never occurred.  Minutes passed, and still Jamie didn’t move.  Alicia gathered the courage to stand, and once on her feet, she waited a good minute again.  Still nothing.  She stepped from the water, and looked over at Buster, who was staring at her with a ‘don’t try it’ look.  She took a half dozen steps, stopped and turned again.  Jamie never stirred.  The thought that she was still mostly naked, tightly restrained, and had no clue as to where she was really never entered her mind.  The predominant thought was to escape.  There had to be people somewhere nearby.  In the back of her mind a little voice warned her to stay, but she cursed it away.  How much longer could this go on?  Nothing was guaranteed.  And how could she ever face Samantha with the knowledge that there had been an opportunity to possibly escape, but she let it pass.  No, this was an obligation.  The odds were long, but maybe not impossible.

   She was a hundred yards away now, and her steps came more quickly.  It was awkward moving with her arms as they were.  Alicia had the good fortune of being athletic, which served her well in this environment.  Her bare feet avoided the sage brush as best she could.  She finally guessed herself to be a half mile or better away from where she started.  She had a dilemma.  She could stay in the creek bottom, as she had been, or try to get above it to more open ground.  She could remain somewhat hidden down low, but then no-one could really see her.  But to get out into the open she would be, well, just that.  Out in the open.  Jamie could ride to a high point and spot her rather easily.  There were sharp, jagged out-croppings along the creek bed, and after she had gone about a mile she decided to try her hand at cutting through the leather holding her arms in place.  She spotted one that came to a point, got up close, and carefully managed to insert the tip between her belly and the dual straps.  It came with a price, however.  She nicked herself twice, before deciding she needed a different approach.  She found another one a little lower, and angled more to her advantage.  It took he a good deal of time as she had to kneel slightly, slip the point under the leather, then push herself up and back, her weight serving to act as resistence. After several times, the leather began to chafe, and finally, to part.  I took a good half hour, but finally one of the straps parted, and with a sigh of relief Alicia brought her strained limb back into a more natural position.  Slipping out of the leather, she quickly freed her other arm, and then relieved herself of the sweltering leather altogether.  The air felt wonderful on her skin, which was red and sweaty from the ordeal.  She was now a naked sixteen year old girl in the middle of nowhere, but at last she was free.

   She gathered the harness, no sense leaving it as evidence lying around, and headed for a slight ridge away from the creek bottom.  As she got close to the top she dropped to the ground and crawled to the summit. She poked her head over the top and looked back.  Nothing.  She guessed she had been gone over an hour now.  Surely Jamie would have noticed.

   She looked in all directions.  There appeared to be a highway well to the north.  She could see dots moving, but it had to be 10 miles or better.  To the south there was what looked like an abandoned adobe home, but it too was well away, and even if she got there, there was little chance of finding a way to communicate with anyone.  She elected to stay on the low side of the ridge, which ran parallel to the creek, and close in to it.  She figured it would give her the least chance of being detected.  She headed to the south, towards the highway.

   She had gone another mile or better when she heard it.  It was the unmistakable sound of horse hooves.  It sounded like they were clacking over the loose stone in the bottom of the creek bed.  She could see ahead some dense shrubbery at the edge of the of the ravine leading to the creek.  She made a dash for it, crawling into the midst of it and ignoring the irritating way it scraped at her bare skin.  From there she could look down into the bottom without being seen.  The sound must have traveled a long way, because she sat for several minutes before there was any sign of horse and rider.  But at last they came into view.  It was Jamie.  Alicia’s blood ran cold.  There wasn’t a hint of worry on her face, and that scared her more than anything.  She looked as if she could be out for a casual ride.  She wore her straw cowboy hat, and her tight t-shirt.  There was now no bra, her large breasts bobbing as she rode.  Her denim cut-offs rode high on her thighs showing her muscular legs.  Alicia watched her, almost expecting her to stop, and walk right up to her.  But she continued on, seeming unaware, and unconcerned, she was being watched.  Alicia breathed a sigh of relief as she watched her pass.  She waited a good fifteen minutes.  It would do no good to follow her.  It was decision time, and the old abandoned adobe house was the only real option remaining.  But that meant crossing open ground, and retracing her steps.  She waited undecided, then finally turned and began to go the opposite direction at a rapid pace.  She turned frequently, concerned she might see Jamie coming back, and she stuck close to the cover afforded by the brush at the upper edge of the creek bed, but she never saw anything to alert her.  At length, she arrived back where her journey began.  She could stay near the edge, like she had been, for about another mile, but then would she would have to break away form the safety of the brush.  When she reached that point, she paused.  She looked back to the north, seeing nothing.  She crawled into the brush, once again cursing as it bit at her flesh, and waited.  For twenty minutes she didn’t move a muscle.  Still she heard nothing.  Finally, she made her way out of the cover, and began the trek that would take her towards the abandoned home.

  She set out, looking all the while back to the north.  She had covered about half the distance, and was beginning to feel like maybe she could pull it off.  She started into a jog.  It was only a mile away now.  Jamie had to be well down the creek bed.  She heard a sound, but she could see nothing.  She stopped, and looked carefully.  It seemed to be getting louder, but still there was nothing to see.  Puzzled, she again started to jog.  Then a horrifying thought hit her.  She spun and looked to the south.  She panicked, dropping the leather harness.  In full gallop, less than a half mile away, was Jamie on Buster.  Alicia ran.  It was a survival instinct.  Run away from trouble.  She could hear the sound getting closer.  Her bare feet scraped across the hot ground, and the sage scraped her legs as she ran. 

   Then she heard another sound.  It sounded like a rotary blade, and in the next instant she was flying through the air, landing with a thud on the ground.  Panicked, she tried getting to her feet, and fell again.  Looking down, she saw that her legs were tangled in leather.  She reached down to untangle them, and was jerked harshly to the ground once again.  The end of the leather was tied to the saddle-horn.  As long as the horse kept moving there was little Alicia could do. Jamie dismounted, walking towards the frightened teen.

   “You will regret that,” Jamie said simply, her blue eyes giving a look that made Alicia’s blood run cold.

   The girl once again tried to free her legs of the cords wrapped around them, but Buster did his job, keeping the tension on them.  Jamie dropped some neatly coiled bundles of thin leather to the ground beside Alicia, and spun the girl over onto her belly.  She knelt across Alicia’s back, gathering both arms painfully together.  There was a shooting pain and Alicia cried out as her elbows were lashed ferociously together.  Her tits were ground into the rough surface, as the binding of her elbows thrust them forward.  Jamie’s hand was in her hair, pulling her head up and back, and in the next instant her mouth was crammed full with a red ball that had to be forced against her teeth so hard she was afraid they might break.  When it finally slipped behind her teeth, she groaned in relief, but only until Jamie began to tighten the leather strap.  It was worked and pulled, then worked again until the last hole could be accessed, then fastened in place so tight that Alicia felt as if she was about to swallow a grapefruit whole.  Her head was released while her wrists were fastened tightly behind her, and cinched.  Her hands moved back up to the elbow cords, cinching them as well.  Jamie pulled the girl to her feet.  Alicia’s eyes were wild over the gag.

   “Turn around,” Jamie ordered. 

   She inspected the cords, trying to separate the girls arms, but their was no give.

    Another length of the cord was produced, and Jamie wrapped it in figure eight fashion about Alicia’s shoulders.  It started at the back of the neck, went over the shoulder, around to the front, under the armpit, across the back to the other shoulder, around to the front, and under that armpit.  This was looped several times, pulled tight with each pass, drawing Alicia’s shoulders back further.  But there was a more devious purpose to this binding.  Another thin cord was looped double, and passed over the center of the “eight” with the ends passed through the loop, securing it there.  The loose ends were brought down, looped around Alicia’s arms at the biceps, cinched, and tied back at its starting point.  The girl’s arms were on fire now.  The elbows ground together so hard they could have crushed coffee beans between them.  While Alicia whimpered for the rough treatment to end, Jamie was just getting started.

   “You’re probably wondering how I knew,” Jamie said, grabbing more of the leather.  “My great grandfather was a full blooded Cherokee.  He was a horse-whisperer.  I spent a lot of time with him when I was young.”

    Just below the rib cage another set of leather cords pinned her arms to her back.  And then another just above her hip bones, both jerked tight enough to affect her breathing.  From this second set, Jamie looped another doubled cord.  Alicia was in so much distress she scarcely noticed what was about to happen.  When she felt Jamie behind her, fetching the two loose ends, she began to get the idea.  Quickly and sharply, the free ends were brought up and over the cords binding her wrists in back, Jamie’s fingers seeing to it that the cord bisected the labia.  Then it was tugged downwards, looped again over the wrists, and tugged again.  There were tears in Alicia’s eyes as it was tied off.  Then Jamie was back around front.

   “Buster knew which direction you went, so I let him lead the way,” Jamie said, slipping her fingers under the crotchrope to gauge its misery index. 

   When it was a struggle, both to get her fingers under it, and to withdraw them, it passed the test.  A final doubled cord went right over Alicia’s nipples, pulled until it crushed them down against her upper rib-cage, and then was tied off.  It divided her round breasts into half globes, and sawed at her sensitive nipples with every breath.

   “Horses have a keen sense of smell,” Jamie went on.  “So when his nostrils flared, I knew right where you were.  I circled back the other way, knowing you wouldn’t be expecting me from that direction.”

   Jamie stood back and inspected her work.  Every cord dimpled the girls flesh with an attitude.  Any one alone would have been agonizing.

  Jamie nodded.  A last cord looped around the one diving through her cunt.  Jamie took the end of it with her as she mounted Buster, looping it around the saddle horn.  Alicia couldn’t believe what was apparently about to happen, but when the woman gently kicked the sides of the horse, it became a reality.  The cord came taut, and to keep from having it do more damage than it already was, Alicia was forced to walk behind them at a brisk pace.  The first step was torture, the second was assault, and the third - wanted for first degree murder.  But there was no let-up.  Alicia was forced to follow at the pace dictated.

   Eventually, they wound up back where the whole thing started, at the spring.  A visibly relieved Alicia, trembling, watched as Jamie dismounted.

   “In case you didn’t know, there was a purpose to this adventure,” Jamie hissed.  “And it wasn’t so you could go running naked around the country.”

   Jamie fished around in the saddle bag, withdrawing more of the thin leather.

   “I have a bit of a hike,” she said unfurling one of the neat bundles.  “This will ensure you don’t attempt another stunt like that last one.”

  She forced the young girl to the ground, seated her on her bare butt, and drew her legs out straight in front of her.  She crossed Alicia’s ankles, wound a half dozen stands of thin leather cord around them, and knotted it tight.  Her thighs were next, just above the knees, the leather digging deeply into her lovely skin.  Lastly, the upper thighs were corded, and these were cinched as well.  Jamie grabbed her bound ankles, spinning her Alicia onto her side.  More cord was fastened to her crossed ankles. The end was passed through the backside of the leather crushing her nipples.  Alicia cried out into her gag as Jamie pulled her ankles up.  She stuck her foot against the girls fused arms to gain as much arch as she could, before tying it off.  Then she stood up, rolling the helpless teen back onto her belly with the toe of her boot.  Alicia certainly wasn’t going anywhere.

   “Now you little cunt, you lie there and dream about what you’re going to do to pleased me,” Jamie smirked.  “And it better be good because I’ll be dreaming up worse things than this to do to that heavenly little body if you don’t.”

   Alicia scarcely heard the words.  Her body felt like some kind of voodoo doll, twisted and bent into ways a body was never meant to be twisted and bent into, and then lashed into place with horribly thin leather cord to keep her that way.  The cord ravaged her sex like a cat clawing its way up a tree to escape from a dog, and her arms and legs were void of feeling.

   Watching Jamie walk away was truly a paradox.  On the one hand, she was gone.  No more punishment could be inflicted on her helpless body for a time.  But again, out here, Jamie was the only one who could do anything to lessen her suffering. 

   She lay totally nude, stringently bound and gagged for what seem like hours.  A burst of struggling succeeded only in toppling back over to her side, and from there she was unable to get back to her belly.  Her nude body soaked up the hot ground like a sponge in water, wringing it back out in the form of sweat. 

   When Jamie finally returned and cut the cord tying her ankles to her breasts, she uncoiled like a rubber band, the air expelling from her lungs in a sigh of relief.  Her legs were cut free, and she looked down to see deep red grooves in the tanned flesh.  Jamie was feeling no sympathy, jerking her to her feet by the hair.

   “Here,” she said placing a leather pouch around the girls neck.  “We’ll let you haul this back.”

   While it wasn’t particularly heavy, any added stress on her ravaged frame was an unwelcome burden.

   “I advise you to keep up,” Jamie smiled, tugging on her crotchrope.  “We have to make up some lost time.”

   Once again, the cord was tied to the saddle horn, and the two started the long trek back.

______________________________________________________________________________

  

   Heather walked around downtown for a time.  It was a typical gray Seattle day.  She wound up down along the waterfront, watching the ferry boats come and go.  She bought a pack of cigarettes.  It had been several years since she had given up the habit, but it somehow seemed appropriate today.  Her mind was racing.  The agency seemed to be making little headway in locating Samantha and Alicia.   Keri was the one on the case, and she was certain she would be doing all she could, but sometimes the smaller things got shoved aside in favor of the bigger picture.  That didn’t make it sit well.  She hoped something might come of the meeting Keri had planned.  Like most F.I.T operatives, little was divulged of what each ones job entailed.  Keri had been introduced to Heather via email from headquarters as Assistant Director of Intelligence.  The two had met only months before, and instantly took a liking to one another.  They were different personalities.  Heather liked the wild life.  A good time was never to be avoided.  Keri liked the quiet lifestyle, and thus was more suited to office details. 

   Heather sat on a bench and smoked.  Her mind wandered over the past weeks.  Things just weren’t adding up.  There seemed to be a dead end at every attempt to locate Sam and Alicia.  In spite of all the super-secret technologies available to F.I.T, they were having no success locating the two teen girls.  Heather had thought about going rogue again, but her lone attempt at that had been met with failure at the hands of the oriental twins.  Why did the agency seem to be dragging their feet in this matter?

   She snubbed out her cigarette, determined to ask some pointed questions that evening in her meeting with Keri.  The cool air was getting the better of the blonde agent, so she decided a hot tub would be in order.

   Back at the hotel, Heather poured herself a glass of wine, slid out of her clothes, and into the hot tub.  A good hour and a second glass of wine later and she was ready for a nap.  She slipped her oversized pink T-shirt on, donned a conservative, yet very sexy pair of panties, and sprawled out on the king sized bed.  In a matter of minutes she was asleep. 

   How long she dozed for, she wasn’t sure.  And she was never really sure what caused her to awaken.   But when her eyes opened she knew she was in deep trouble. 

   “The infamous Heather Duncan,” came the voice from one of the men.

   Heather shot up from her pillow, preparing to take a defensive stance.  That was when two of the men leveled  Walther P99 semi automatics at her.  They were both large, fit men.  Each wore a black T-shirt, tight enough to show their impressive physiques and biceps.  Both wore black pants as well, and thick soled boots below.  Each wore black leather gloves, which gripped the guns pointed at the blonde.  The third man she recognized.  It was Hugo.  He held no gun, which Heather surmised was a good thing.  Instead, he held a travel bag slung over his shoulder.

   “Hugo, care to dance?” Heather asked quietly.

   Hugo glared at her, his misshapen nose giving testimony to their previous encounter.

   “Don’t try any thing stupid,” the first man said.

   “How did you.....” Heather stopped,

   “Get in?” the man finished.

   Heather nodded.

   “Ahh, then it wouldn’t be a secret would it?” the man smiled.

   Heather gave them a what next look.

   “OK Duncan, first things first,” said the man who to this point had done all the talking.  “Lose the shirt.”

   Heather sighed, hesitating.

   “As beautiful as you are, I won’t hesitate to splatter your brains all over this room,” the man growled in a manner that indicated it wasn’t an idle threat.

   Heather gripped the hem of the t-shirt, and in a deliberate fashion, pulled it up over her head, tossing it to the bed, her large breasts bobbing on her chest.

   “Very good,” the man smiled, obviously enjoying what he saw.  “You’re even better in person than what I had been told, and I had been told you were spectacular.”

   “I’m flattered,” Heather spat.

   “Oh, a girl with spunk,” the man chuckled.  “I like that.  I’ve also been told you have a knack for escaping tight situations, so we’ll see you have no tools to aid you.”

   He motioned for the private show to continue with the removal of her panties.  Heather complied, the panties joining her t-shirt on the bed.

   “Nice,” the man said simply.

   Heather crossed her arms on her chest.

    “Clasp your hands together at the back of your head and interlace your fingers,” the man ordered.

   These guys knew their stuff.

   “Good.  Now cross your ankles,” he continued.

   Heather swung her right leg around her left, then stood, ankles crossed, hands at the top of her head.  She knew what was next.  And the man knew that she knew.

   “Kneel,” he said simply.

   Heather gracefully knelt as she knew he wanted, her crossed ankles directly under her buttocks, the tops of her feet flat against the floor.  To rise from this position would require a number of things, all of which would give her captors ample time to respond.

   “Lower your arms behind your back and bend to kiss the floor,” he commanded.

   Again Heather complied.  She had no choice.

   “Hugo, do your thing,” the man said.

    Heather heard a soft thump and noticed that Hugo had apparently dumped the contents of his travel bag, which turned out to be an assortment of leather straps, to the floor beside her. She saw him bend to pick up the first strap, a medium length 1" diameter black leather belt.  She felt it go under her arms, just above the elbows. He gripped both arms with one hand, forcing the limbs together as he threaded the loose end through the buckle.   In the next instant Heather felt  searing pain in her arms as her elbows were crushed together.

   “Christ,” Heather hissed through clenched through clenched teeth.

   “Too tight?” the man grinned.

   Heather bit her tongue, her elbows already beginning to bruise.

   The next one went around her wrists, palm-to-palm, and a third one at her forearms, these too, tightened well beyond tolerable range.

   Hugo grabbed her by her hair and pulled her to her feet.  A moment later she felt something smooth sliding up her arms, and realized they were further securing her with a black single glove.  It was a very supple leather, almost seeming to contour in where the belts bent the flesh on her arms.  Hugo tugged it up her arms, looping straps at the top of the device over and around Heather’s shoulders.  Then he began pulling the slack out of the laces running up the sleeve.  It took several minutes to accomplish this, but when he was finished there was absolutely no more slack to be obtained.  The final bit consisted of tightening the special straps looping about her shoulders.  The straps not only caught her rounded joints, but connected to each other by way of a belt across the top at the back, and when Hugo had tightened it the blonde’s shoulders were practically touching in back.  Heather thought her breastbone might snap, so severely were her shoulders drawn.  She stood, her lovely breasts heaving, as a harness was fastened about her upper arms and body, the narrow black leather dimpling her flesh as the muscular Hugo pulled each and every strip as tight as humanly possible.  There were strips both above and below her breasts, and another at her waist.  The mass of thin leather was connected in front with stainless steel rings.  These were all tightened viciously, welding Heather’s arms to her back, and making any movement with them impossible.  One final strap descended from the lowest ring in front, and Heather feared where it might go. It had an odd attachment to it, a battery sized piece of smooth metal that could be slipped up or down on the leather.   Sure enough, Hugo pulled the end between Heather’s legs, passing it through a ring at the tip of the single glove.  He pulled mightily on it, the thin leather parting the lips of the blonde girl’s labia, and the metal planting itself firmly against her clitoris.  She assumed it was some kind of vibrating device.

   Hugo grinned with satisfaction, and stood back to gaze at his handiwork.  None of the men spoke.  They were too intent on admiring the beautiful woman’s plight.  Her large breasts stood out from her chest in defiant fashion, the slightly inverted nipples pressed out, almost begging for attention.

   “You boys feel safe now?” Heather spat, breaking the silence.

   The irony of her words was not lost on the men.  Here was a beautiful, naked female in the company of three armed burly men, so tightly and utterly restrained that she might have been a mass murderer.

   “Hugo, you’re forgetting something,” the man said, his eyes betraying the fact that her barb stung.

   Hugo grabbed her by the hair, holding something against Heather’s lips.  He jerked on her hair enough to get her to open her mouth, then slipped a small piece of metal inside, which immediately tingled. Hugo held his hand over the blonde’s mouth to keep her from expelling it.

   “Let me explain that,” the man said.  “What you have in your mouth won’t harm you in the least unless you spit it out.  I wouldn’t even open your mouth.  You see, if it comes in contact with air, it will activate that little lump of metal that probably is beginning to feel like a part of your anatomy.  It’s not quite as powerful as a stun gun, but then we’ve never really tested it.  Perhaps you’d like to be the first?”

   Hugo removed his hand.

   Heather glared at them, but wasn’t about to test the man’s trustworthiness.

   “No?” the man asked.  “Good choice.”

   He slipped his semi-automatic into a holster and approached the blonde, moving around behind her.  He reached around to grip and fondle her breasts, pressing her against him as he did.  One hand roamed downwards, his fingers exploring the deep cleft created by the leather slicing through her sex.  He slipped his finger under it, then, satisfied it was tight enough, his hands returned to her breasts.

   “Too bad we have a deadline to meet,” he said, his fingers pinching her nipples.  “I think you have more than enough to keep the three of us busy all night.”

   He came back around front, fishing a pair of alligator clips out of his pocket.  He grasped her left nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger until it puckered out, then he sprung the clip open and fastened it on the sensitive flesh.  Heather clenched her eyes shut as he repeated his actions on her other nipple.  A wide piece of clear packing tape went over each clip assuring that no amount of jostling would remove them.

   “Art, see if you can find some shoes suitable for Agent Duncan to wear,” the man told his sidekick, using his name.

   Art headed for the closet, while the apparent leader grabbed a raincoat draped over a nearby chair.  He slipped it over Heather’s shoulders, and buttoned the front up, covering her nudity.  It was a short coat, falling only slightly below Heather’s ass.  Art returned with a pair of black patent leather pumps, with six inch heels and ankle straps.  They were some of Heather’s favorites, but she didn’t relish the thought of having to wear them now.  One at a time they were fastened on her feet, the ankle straps making their removal an impossibility in Heather’s current state.  The sleeves were tucked into the pockets of the rain jacket.  The man fumbled with the sleeves a moment, then they inflated, making it appear as if arms filled them.  He had somehow activated compressed air canisters, and the jacket now appeared almost as it would under normal circumstances.  Almost.  Under normal circumstances Heather would not have been naked underneath the coat.  Nor would her arms have been fused into a single unit from wrists to shoulders behind her, thus thrusting her nipples against the front of the thin material.  The observable effects of this were that the outline of her nipples and their clamps could clearly be seen, pressed hard against the coat as they were.  A pair of sunglasses was slipped over her eyes, and adjusted to properly fit.

   “Now, Agent Duncan, we are going to walk out of here,” the man smiled.

   Heather glared at him.  She had wondered how they planned on getting her out of the building.  It was too simple.  There was a part of her that admired their foresight.

   The man sensed her appreciation.

   “Ahh, but not as you might think,” he went on.  “Fire escapes are such a wonderful thing.  Every building has them, you know.”

   Heather looked at him incredulously..  They were 27 stories up.  Walking down that many flights of stairs in six inch heels would be brutal, let alone the fact her labia already felt as if permanent damage had been done to it by the searing leather bisecting it.

   After sending Art ahead, Hugo and the remaining man escorted the lovely agent out of her room, and into the stairwell.  Every step was a nightmare as any movement in her arms, no matter how slight, extracted a price from her loins.  Her large breasts rose and fell inside the jacket, her nipples throbbing from the wicked clips fastened and taped in place on her nipples, and after only one flight of stairs Heather would gladly have negotiated not having to endure the next 26.  They weren’t going to give her the opportunity though.  They passed two different people on their way down, neither of which gave them more than a second glance.  After what seemed like an hour, they reached the exit.  The door opened into an alley, and a van had been conveniently parked just a few step outside.  As they exited, the side door of the van opened, and the three entered.  The first thing that was apparent was that the back row seats had been removed, and the second was that it was not an accident. 

   Heather was shoved to the floor, while the door shut behind them.  The man who was the leader peeled the raincoat free, once again exposing her to their leering eyes.  While the trip down had been mostly uneventful for the two men, the same could not be said for the bound agent.  The trip had been laborious every step of the way, and her skin glistened with a fresh sheen of sweat.

   The van was already well away from the building when the largest ball gag Heather had ever seen came out of Hugo’s bag.  It had to have been at least 4 ½ inches in diameter and white in color.  It took two of the men to accomplish the task of fitting it in place inside the blonde girl’s mouth, but when it popped behind her teeth it was enough to get Heather to temporarily forget about the chafing strap between her legs.  It was buckled tightly in place, then the man held Heather’s legs as Hugo saw to it they were as well secured as her arms.  More leather straps went around her upper and lower thighs, biting deep into the firm tanned flesh.  Her ankles were last, tightly secured side-by-side, her pumps still adorning her feet. 

   With her body secured and helpless, the men could no longer resist playing with her tits, mauling and squeezing the flesh like kids with new play-dough.  The leader kept looking for signs of surgery, not believing the size and firmness of the blonde girl’s breasts could have occurred naturally. At length he muttered a few superlatives, and continued his onslaught. Eventually though, there were some items to be tended to, and the party stopped.

   Working in tandem, Heather’s legs were forced up against her chest, mashing her nipple clamped breasts against the tops of her thighs.  A long strap went around her back, and under her thighs, tightened excruciatingly tight holding her bent double.  A leather blindfold was produced, and slipped over the blonde’s protesting eyes.   Another padded leather muzzle went over the monstrous gag, making any feeble noises she could possibly make silent to anyone but herself.  She was shoved to the floor of the van, her tight bondage making all but the feeblest movements impossible.  So she lay mostly still, her mind racing to assure itself she would soon be missed by Keri.  But she was unable to shake the gnawing feeling that all wasn’t as it was supposed to be.

1   The night had progressed nicely.  There was lots of food and beverage.  There had been slow roasted pork,  beef tenderloin, crab, and side dishes too many to count.  The banquet took place in a separate underground part of the complex that neither Alicia nor Samantha had seen.  The room was huge, at least 40 by 40 feet, and well lit, with an adobe fireplace at one end.  The evening was not cool, but still they burned pinon wood for the ambience.   Fun was had by all.  Well, by most.  Certainly Samantha was not having a good time.  The feast had taken place at several large round marble tables, mounted on iron legs.  Each was big enough to seat twenty people, and each seat was filled.  There were a half dozen men, some from Eastern Europe, and a couple from Central America.  The remainder were female, and they too were split in nationality.  The only ones the captives recognized were Mallory, Katrina, and Jamie.  The centerpiece for one of the banquet tables was Samantha.  She was in the center of the table bound into a stringent position that would have been intolerable for five minutes.  Unfortunately, it was going on two hours.  The tiny blonde had been bound with rough hemp, all of it applied by Katrina, who seemed to have a flair for that kind of stuff.  She was on her belly, with her arms pulled cruelly behind her and bound with many turns of the rope midway between her elbows and shoulders.  It didn’t pull her elbows together, that would have been impossible.  Her legs were bound ankles-to-thighs, and those drawn deep into her flesh.  She had been bent back, with the help of Jamie and Mallory, so her feet could be tied to her elbows with rope running around the arch of her right foot, and the flesh of her arm just above the right elbow.  The same was done on the left side.  Her arms ran down the length of her calves so the wrist could be tied to the outside of the calf just below the knee. The natural tendency of this was to pull her doubled legs widely apart.  More hemp circled her waist, drawn tight, and served as an anchor point for the cinches connecting her feet and elbows.  It also served as an anchor point for final cord which was fastened in back, went down through the crack of her ass, through her cunt lips in front, before looping over the waist ropes in front, and making the return trip back.  But it didn’t return to its origin.  It shot upwards to grab a clump of her platinum hair near the scalp, and served to hold her head up off the table.  Because of its rough nature, the tough cord chafed at the tender flesh of her sex.  Everything had been drawn so tight that Samantha could scarcely move a muscle, and when she did the tight cords discouraged it sternly.  Pulling against the restraints only served to arch her body slightly off the table top, and nothing more.  She was completely nude, and tightly ball gagged. She had been rubbed with oil so her bronze skin glistened in the indirect lighting, and an assortment of rope had been secured to her restraints, and ran to various points around the table.  Their use became apparent as the night progressed.  At some point one of the inebriated guests might wish to get a closer look at the tightly bound blonde, and rather than have to disturb the others at the table, they would simply grab a length of cord nearest them, and pull her over.  The oil on Samantha’s skin made the task easier to perform, although by the time they got around to this form of amusement, she was sweating so heavily that the oil was really just window dressing.  Mostly they grabbed at her tits, pawing and pinching the flesh as if to see whether the girl was real flesh and blood and not some life-like mannequin trussed into this horrid pose.  On occasion they would slip a finger under the brutally tight crotch-rope, or even manage to bypass it altogether and explore further inside.  Samantha’s grey eyes had a deer in the headlight look through most of it, her tiny grunts and moans, and a twisting of her toes, her only defense.  One of the more devious guests, a haughty dark complected lass from Argentina, sought to remedy that affront by tying a length of twine from her big toes to the waist cinch, forcing the blonde girl’s feet down almost flat against her buttocks and removing even that bit of defiance.  The same girl seemed to take great delight in stroking the helpless girl’s nipples into erection, then pinching the engorged flesh until tears came to the young blonde’s eyes.

   Alicia was slightly better off.  At least she had been afforded a snippet of clothing.  Her eyes soaked up the nude form of her friend, cringing at how brutally tight the ropes were confining her.  But any study of Samantha was needfully short.  While her friend had her sex split by coarse hemp, Alicia’s was annoyingly occupied by a silver colored, remote controlled vibrating egg.  She was dressed like a slutty school girl in a plaid, micro-mini, a ridiculously undersized light blue halter, and lacy ankle socks, under strappy black high heels.  She wore no underpants, which would have caused difficulties in keeping the vibrator in place.  But Jamie had seen to that by piercing Alicia’s labia, and inserting a stainless steel ring through it.  It was described as punishment for her transgressions earlier in the day, and fortunately Jamie had been kind enough to deaden the sensitive area before performing her task.  Alicia’s elbows were strapped together behind her back, and then her thumbs were connected in front with a thin black leather cord that would have been tolerable had it not also been attached to a chain connecting her pierced nipples.  That little added annoyance kept her from relaxing her hands for fear of tugging her nipples harder than they already were. The cord from her thumbs rose upwards, disappearing under the brief halter. Alicia’s thighs were strapped tightly together just above the knees, and she was gagged with a ring gag, which allowed large quantities of drool to spill onto her halter.  The halter was so tiny that most of the undersides of her round tits could be seen, and so tight her nipples poked through the brittle fabric.  She sat on Jamie’s lap, occasionally ordered off for some mundane task such as fetching drinks for the table, which was difficult without the use of her thumbs.  Lucky for her, they were being served in stemmed glasses, and she found she could slip the stem between her middle finger and forefinger.  Of course, having her thighs tightly bound also presented difficulties, as well as the high heels.  But all-in-all she performed admirably.  As the night wore on however, Jamie consumed a rather sizable amount of booze, and so her devious side took over.  She would wait until Alicia had gotten the drinks and was shuffling towards the table, then hit the remote.  The whole table would get great entertainment from watching the young girl stop in her tracks, hands trembling in an effort to keep from spilling the drinks.  She would clench her thighs together even tighter, hunching over and drool pooling from her lips.  When a good laugh was had by all, Jamie would hit the remote once again, allowing Alicia to complete her degrading task.

   She was passed around the table like a bottle of tequila, the patrons taking turns to paw at her youthful flesh, tug at her labia ring, pinch her breasts, and anything else that caught their fancy.  A few found the minuscule halter to be an annoyance, so eventually it wound up pulled up and bunched over the top of her tits, making their enjoyment of her body less cumbersome.

   The entertainment for the evening took many forms.  There were martial arts exhibitions, impressive new espionage technologies, and a general overview of the if the organization’s well-being. 

   Mallory gave a rundown of how well funded their operations were.  It included a very generous gift recently from Saudi royalty, which was untraceable due to its unique nature.  A question was asked about recent F.I.T activities.  There had been rumors that several agents cover had been compromised.

   Mallory smiled and nodded.

   “Yes, there has been an occasional glitch,” Mallory stated.  “These will happen occasionally, and it is our intention to deal with these in a manner to discourage future such events.  I can illustrate that point quite nicely, I believe.   A few days ago, one of our new operatives was paid a rather humiliating visit by a notorious F.I.T agent.  This operative had done quite well in obtaining property from a real estate company, and through some slick computer work, was able to remove the property from the public domain.  We did quite nicely in that arena for a time, but a long time nemesis managed to break apart that operation.  I told the young girl if we had the opportunity to, we would give her some measure of revenge.  Fortunately, we got the opportunity.”

   Mallory motioned with her hand towards the door.  One of the guards opened the door leading to the hallway, and in walked Bailey Boswell.  She was still dressed in her leather and chain outfit, and the thigh-high boots.  She held in one hand a cord that ran over her shoulder, and a short leather crop and a supply of more blue belts in the other,.  A few paces behind her was Heather Duncan.  One glance told that the beautiful blonde had not come as a guest.  She had been cleaned up from her earlier encounters.  Her hair was washed and combed, and gathered into a ponytail that fell to her butt in back, draping over her secured arms.  Blue seemed to be the color of the evening, for the young F.I.T agent.  Light blue.  She wore it in the form of a wide collar around her neck, which buckled in back.  A blue leather arm-binder secured her arms behind her back, her elbows fused together by it’s careful application.  Another belt had been tightened around her waist, tight enough to be a concern all its own.  But its true purpose made the nature of its tightness secondary.  It was what was fastened to it that was of real concern. The very tip of the arm-binder had a blue belt sewn into it.  This belt dove through Heather’s ass cheeks in back, came forward to split her labia, and then fastened to a custom buckle on the front of the belt.  It had been drawn taut with a ferocity born out of Hugo’s weight and strength, at the request of Bailey.  It had been pulled so tight that the belt was pulled downwards several inches, something that would have seemed impossible when first applied, due to its tightness, and it dug into the tops of the blonde girl’s hip bones.  The crotch strap emerged from a point where, until recently, Heather had a sparse strip of pubic hair.  Every step came with a wince, but they had to be made.  The cord that Bailey held in her hand went over her shoulder and connected to Heather’s nipples.  Or rather to rings in Heather’s nipples.  That little piece of jewelry came with Katrina’s assistance.  The sensitive flesh had been pierced, then silver rings were put in place, the ends soldered together to make them permanent.  A light silver chain ran from one ring to the other, and that served as the tether point for the cord.  Unfortunately, Katrina had not been as kind as she had with Alicia, opting to do the job without anything to numb the area.  Heather made small noises through her gag, which consisted of a blue leather strap, buckled tight enough to cut into the sides of her mouth, and which in turn held several pair of dirty panties packed tightly in. Unbeknownst to Heather, the panties had been soaked in a stimulant which would keep her alert and attentive to all the stimulation planned for her.  She walked awkwardly, but rapidly, atop blue leather pumps with six inch heels.  Her beautiful legs flexed like a dancers in a failed effort to find a gait that was anything other than excruciating.  Her large breasts bobbed painfully, the silver rings glinting in the light, accentuating her tan skin, and the developing layer of sweat that her body was taking on.  She halted briefly when she saw the Samantha, cringing at the horrid position the young teen was tied into, then the chain tugged harshly on her nipples once again. 

   Bailey led her over to a narrow support post next to one of the tables , loosened the collar at Heather’s neck, then motioned to Katrina for some assistance.  Heather was scarcely cognizant of them forcing her to kneel with her back to the post.  When she was on her knees, Bailey re-attached the collar around her neck and the post.  A two foot wide spreader bar was fastened between Heather’s knees, but behind the post.  The blonde girl felt the pressure at her neck, as the position forced her neck against leather strap securing her to the post.  Then one at a time, her lovely legs were folded up so her ankles could be fastened tightly to her upper thighs, forcing Heather to balance painfully on her knees.  She was astonished, but they obtained enough slack in the crotch-strap to wedge a six inch vibrator cross-ways under it, and turned the dial to the highest setting.  Lastly, Bailey looped the strap attached to her nipple rings around the vibrator so the helpless blonde could enjoy the sensations flowing through them as well.   Heather had no way of knowing, but the brutal crotch-strap that was splitting her apart held a wicked secret.  Sewn onto the inside of the leather, that part crushed against her clitoris, was a strip of the hybrid material that Sam and Alicia had been forced onto for the video some time ago.  It was the superconducting titanium that multiplied the vibrations input into it exponentially, before spitting them back out at whatever came in contact with it.  In this case, that something was Heather’s flesh.  Within minutes, Heather’s skin began to crawl.  Sweat coated her athletic form like a sprayed on mist, rolling of her breasts and nipples, and down her trembling thighs. 

   Mallory walked over to her and tugged on the nipple chain to gain her attention.  She bent down close, undid Heather’s ponytail and whispered in her ear.

   “Surprise, surprise,” she taunted the helpless agent.  “Now we still have business to conduct, so be polite and don’t be a distraction. ”

   Of course, that was impossible.  On the one hand, her body had no way of fighting off what was being imposed on it.  She could scarcely move, and certainly could never remove the strap deep inside her.  And second, she was stunningly gorgeous.  Even had she not been naked and bound, she would have been a distraction to all the men present, and a good portion of the women as well.

   “See she behaves herself,” Mallory smiled to Bailey, before ruffling Heather’s long blonde hair in a playful manner, then spreading it attractively.

   With these theatrics out of the way, the meeting continued.  But for Heather, nothing was intelligible.  It was like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons; muffled distant, and without substance.  The pleasure swept through her body in waves, only to subside into dull pain until the next wave came ashore.  Her body trembled constantly, one minute from her stringent bondage, the next from the wild vibrations ravishing her.  And on those occasions where the sensations became too much, and Heather’s moans and whimpers became audible, Bailey cured of these transgressions by whipping her tits, and thighs, and belly with the leather crop. 

   The blonde girl never heard Mallory tell of the large cache of platinum that the organization had come across. A portion of it was produced and shown off.  It came from the bag that Alicia had been forced to carry back after her ill-fated escape attempt earlier in the day.  She was never cognizant of the fact the meeting was over.  When Heather was finally released from the post, and the vibrator removed from the crotch-strap, her limp form was placed face down on the floor.  The cold floor felt wonderful against Heather’s sweat soaked skin.  But when the young antagonist grabbed the chain connected to her pierced nipples, she was forced to rise to her weary legs. 

   As Bailey started to lead Heather from the large room, their trek was interrupted by a middle aged couple.  Bailey seemed perturbed at this intrusion, giving the two a disgusted look.  The man spoke in French, softly, grabbing at the bound agent’s breasts as he spoke.  Bailey shook her head, not able to understand the language.

   “How much?” the woman said.

   Bailey still didn’t understand.

   “How much do you want for her?” the woman continued.

   “How much?” Bailey finally said.

  “We’ll give you $500,000.” the woman said.

   Bailey gave them a blank stare.

   The woman looked at the man, and said something in French.  The man nodded.

   “$750,000,” the woman said.

   Bailey broke out into a smile.

   “How about that, you stupid cunt,” she spat at the bound blonde.  “I’m going to get rich at your expense.”

   Heather closed her eyes.  The thought of being sold like a side of beef was not thrilling her.

   “She’s not for sale,” Mallory’s voice piped in.

   Heather opened her eyes in time to see the dejection on Bailey’s face.

   “Bailey, I think I’ll take Agent Duncan now,” Mallory said taking the nipple chain from Bailey.  “We have some things to get ironed out yet tonight.”

  Mallory led the restrained agent past the glass table which had previously held her sister Sam.  There was no sign of the girl, only severed strands of the rough hemp which had bound her so cruelly.  The blonde was escorted out of the large hall, and down the narrow corridor, her heels clacking against the floor as she went.

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   Heather bit down on the mass inside her mouth as the thin plastic fell against her stomach.  To this point, she had not allowed anything more than slight muffled groans to be savored by her tormenter, but it was rapidly becoming more difficult to refrain from audibly pleasing her.  Her breasts, belly, thighs, and butt were all striped with red welts.  The treatment had been going on for several minutes, and showed no signs of being completed soon.  There was nothing she could do to avoid the blows.  Bound as she was, her body was a target for Katrina’s evil whims, and the woman delighted in taking full advantage.  Dressed in a sleeveless, black leather dress, Katrina took her time, seeing to it each blow went as directed.

   The blonde agent stood in the center of the room, her useless arms wriggling like grotesque wings.  Her elbows had been belted together behind her, and then her arms were folded up so the wrists could be belted tightly against her biceps.  It was a painful predicament that pulled her shoulders back even more than the wicked elbow bondage she had endured recently.  It thrust her chest out in inviting fashion allowing the undersides of her breasts to be whipped.  It was the sensitive undersides that took a goodly part of the abuse, and they were so available because her nipples had been noosed with twine, which was tied to a ring then raised, stretching them into the air, and making standing in her heels more difficult.  Her thighs had been strapped tightly together at both upper and lower thigh, but her ankles were free, for all the good it did her.  Moving even the slightest bit she could only served to stretch her nipples more, and the one thing she feared most was losing her balance.    So she stood mostly still as the plastic switch laid streaks across her body.

   Across the room, Alicia watched the drama unfold.  Her wild eyes took in the punishment of her friend’s older sister, admiring the courage shown to avoid screaming as the switch cracked with each blow. Alicia had no choice but to watch, as the whole ordeal took place right in front of her.  And she certainly wasn’t afforded the option of leaving.  She was completely nude, spread and split apart in a fashion that was both painful, and humiliating, and now she was seemingly forgotten in the flurry of strokes being administered to the helpless agent.  Her shoulders were draped over a four foot long bar, mounted about six feet high by more of the same metal at each end, which in turn was mounted to the floor.  Her elbows were welded together behind her, wrists strapped tightly as well, and then cord from her wrists pulled her arms down sharply, and was tied off to a ring in the floor, so her shoulders bore much of the weight.  From the shoulders, her body angled forward to a point just above her waist where the small of her back was bent across a smaller version of the metal frame her shoulders were draped over.  This smaller frame was set some two feet in front of the other one.  Alicia’s legs were then pulled back through the opening and spread, the ankles tied to the support poles of the first frame, keeping her legs obscenely split, and making her sex available for anything Katrina might wish to impose on her.

   Heather jerked slightly with each blow, her skin bearing several dozen red stripes from the barrage.  Her hair had been braided into a ponytail to keep it out of the way, and it swayed each time Katrina struck.  The abuse continued until at last, the sound of a door opening halted it.  Katrina set the switch on a table, and Heather clenched her eyes at the momentary stoppage.

   There was the sound of unsteady steps, as if someone was reluctantly being led into the room.  Heather opened her eyes.  It was Samantha.  She was being led into the room by Jamie, and it was quickly apparent why her steps were halting.  The first matter had to do with the six inch stiletto heels of her black pumps.  They would have made walking under even normal conditions quite difficult.  The second matter was the leather hood laced over her head.  It was tightly laced into place, molding to the contours of her face, with obvious padding where her ears were located to muffle all sound.  Her long blonde hair had been pulled through between two of the lacings in back, forming a tail.  There was an opening at the mouth in front, and this had allowed a ring gag to be applied, the tight strap dimpling the shiny leather of the hood.  Worst of all though were the poor girl’s arms.  They had been bent high on her back with the wrists fastened palm-to-palm at the base of her neck with a black zip tie.  Another tie held her forearms, and a third fastened her elbows together, keeping her arms in a strict reverse prayer, and making precarious her sense of balance.  But lagging too far behind wasn’t an option.  Jamie held in her hand a fine chain leash which led to two serrated alligator clips clamped onto the blonde girl’s gumdrop nipples.  Her nude, tanned body still bore the marks of the thin cords from her time as the centerpiece at the banquet table, and the oil and sweat made her slender body shine in the light.

   There was total silence except for the clacking of Samantha’s heels, until they reached the center of the room.

   “Such a delightful little slut, don’t you think,” Katrina smiled, walking over to admire the tiny blonde.  “We’ve all grown quite fond of her around here.”

   She reached out and squeezed the girl’s small breasts, forcing her flesh to expand against the bite of the clips.  Samantha whimpered, attempting to draw back, but Jamie held firm to the leash.

   “Perhaps you’d like to see what talents she has acquired while here,” Katrina smirked.

   She walked over to a small cabinet, and opened a drawer, rummaging around till she found what she wanted.  It was a leather belt, of sorts, and Katrina brought it over and buckled it tightly around Samantha’s waist.  There was an inch-wide strap hanging from the front of the belt, and Heather clenched her eyes with disgust at the certain thought of where it was going to wind up.

   “Not just yet,” Katrina smiled, reading the bound agent’s thoughts.  “We like to see her pleasure tended to on occasion, as well as our own.”

   Katrina walked back to the cabinet, and returned shortly with a pair of black penis-shaped dildos, one some six inches in length, the other around four.  The base of each was slotted, Heather noticed, and Katrina soon had both covered with lubrication.  Katrina slipped the larger of the two onto the strap descending from the front of the belt, and Heather saw it contained a pair of life-sized testicles.

   “If you install this properly, these little jewels sit right up against her clit,” Katrina said, giving them a proper squeeze.

   She kicked at the ankles of the frightened girl, and as if on cue, Samantha spread her legs.  Katrina parted the puffy lips of Samantha’s vulva with her fingers, spread some of the lubricant into the folds, then slowly and carefully pushed it into place.  Samantha could be heard to gasp as she felt the cool length slide inside, completely filling her.  The second device was likewise threaded onto the strap, and Katrina spread Samantha’s lovely ass cheeks, and pressed it into place as well.  Samantha protested a bit, never having felt this sensation before in her young life.  It was not so much uncomfortable, as it was an extreme annoyance.  Then end of the strap was slipped through a buckle on the back of the belt, and buckled snugly into place.   Katrina checked to make sure the first one was exactly where it needed to be, then tightened the belt some more.

   Katrina smiled with satisfaction at her arrangement.

   “There’s just nothing quite like a well plugged little slut, now is there?” she cackled.

   She walked back over to Heather, leaving Samantha to gurgle and drool, her legs still parted in the pose dictated.

   “Technology is such a wonderful thing,” she smiled, looking right into Heather’s glazed, yet defiant eyes.  “It used to be that it would have taken two remotes to activate her little toys, but now, one is sufficient. “

    She held up the tiny black remote for Heather to see.

   “The only question is whether she can focus on her job once I give her the juice,” Katrina chuckled.  “Would you like to do the honors?”

   Heather shot her a look.

   “I thought you might,” Katrina shot back. 

She held the remote up to the blonde agent’s numb fingers.

   “It’s that big one in the middle,” she grinned.

   Heather tried to turn away, but the thin twine bit down hard on her nipples with the movement.

   “Here, let me help you,” Katrina smirked.

   She placed the device against the palm of Heather’s hand, and then guided her finger down to the button.

   “Ready?” Katrina asked, as if there was an alternative.

   Heather was totally powerless to prevent her own finger from depressing the button.

   Immediately there was a muffled buzzing sound, followed by a squeal from the affected girl. Samantha’s knees started to buckle, and her fingers wriggled at the base of her neck.  She tried clenching her thighs together, and thrusting her hips, but it was obvious nothing was going to stop the sensations from imposing themselves on her helpless body.

   “Excitable little thing, isn’t she?” Katrina spat.

   She returned to Samantha’s side, then slipped behind the girl, wrapping her arms around her, and pressing her against her belly.  Once again she squeezed her tits, and let her hands roam across Samantha’s belly, before running them down between the moaning girl’s thighs.

   “My, this thing really hums,” Katrina giggled, her hands feeling the powerful vibrations coursing through Samantha’s flesh.  “She must be on fire.”

   Of that, there was little doubt.  Samantha was having difficulty remaining standing.  Forgotten was the agonizing position of her arms.  Inside her sightless, soundless prison, she could hear the vibrations as they pulsated through her body.  The most dramatic aspect was of all was the incessant buzzing against her clit, and in spite of all else, she was becoming more aroused by the minute.

   “Watch carefully, slut,” Katrina spat at Heather.  “This will be yours job in short order.”

   She grabbed the chain connecting the nipple clips from Jamie, and escorted the whimpering teen towards her friend.  Alicia stared in horror as Samantha was led right to her spread sex, and tried to fight against her restraints.  Aside from her head however, there was precious little movement afforded her.  Katrina forced the blonde girls face into the lewdly spread sex.  It took a moment for Samantha to comprehend what was being silently and blindly asked of her, but a sharp stripe across her butt with the plastic switch got the message across loud and clear.

   On trembling legs, her tongue probed the area directly in front of it, delicately at first, but two more stripes energized her efforts.  Alicia strained her body in a vain attempt to halt what was progressing, but again, it accomplished nothing.  In a matter of a minute or so, her body began to respond.  Samantha’s pink tongue worked rapidly back-and-forth, except for the occasional lapses when the vibrations between her own legs halted the show.  But the resultant stripes across her ass got the project back in order, and she kept at it like a seasoned pro.  In spite of Alicia’s “willing” it to be otherwise, the persistent attention of Samantha rapidly gained steam.  She could feel the blood rushing to her loins, and in spite of the necessary delays brought on by her friend’s own pleasured flesh, the unavoidable climax shook her body in short order.

   “Wow, that was quick,” Katrina smirked, pulling the blonde away from her friend. 

   Samantha’s tongue was still wagging about, oblivious to the true nature of the situation.

   “I say we take her hood off and let her enjoy the moment, eh?” Katrina said cheerily.

   That brought some wild gyrations from Heather.  The humiliation forced on her younger sister had been somewhat tolerable in the sense that Samantha had no clue who it was she had been forced to service.  Removing that bit of anonymity would be terribly degrading.

   “Perhaps you’re right,” Katrina smirked.  “We’ll just keep it our little secret for now.”

   Katrina lowered the ring that held Heather’s twined nipples, giving the bound agent a bit of relief.  Then she undid the belts at her thighs.

   “Jamie, please give Agent Duncan a sample of your hospitality,” Katrina hissed.  “Put her in one of your special ties.  Very special.  And don’t give any thought to her comfort, or lack thereof.  The less thrashing around she can do the better.  She’s been known to have a knack of wriggling her way out of tight situations.”

   She walked back over to the quivering blonde teen.

   “I’ll be back shortly,” she smiled, grabbing Samantha’s erect nipples.  “I’d like take full advantage of this little slut’s services while she’s in the mood.”

   Katrina dragged the helpless girl towards the door.

    Jamie chuckled, then grabbed Heather’s nipple leashes still tied tightly in place.

   “A very special tie it is,” Jamie smiled, her eyes feasting on the naked form of her captive.

    Heather strained to find some measure of comfort.  She failed.  It had taken a good 20 minutes for Jamie to rope her into her current predicament.  Heather was observant.  It was one of the attributes that helped her in her job as an agent.  She made mental notes of what was being done to her body in the hopes that there might be a careless cinch, or an improperly tied knot that could be exploited later, but it quickly became apparent those observations would bear no fruit.  Jamie was as efficient as she was deadly-beautiful.

   “I’ve enjoyed the company of your little sister, and her slut friend,” Jamie spat.  “There’s nothing quite like taking pleasure from innocent teens.”

   She walked around Heather’s now totally naked and tightly bound form, checking her rope-work.

   “But I rather prefer the experienced foe,” she smirked.  “It’s much more fun to break a seasoned adversary. “

   Jamie continued to walk around Heather.  She may have been considered a worthy adversary, but at the moment Heather could no more threaten Jamie than could the helpless teens they had left behind. 

   No chances had been taken.  Heather’s wrists were unstrapped from her biceps, then immediately bound tightly behind her back, palm-to-palm, with thin, scratchy sisal.  Just above the wrist bonds, more of the same thin cord pinned her arms to her waist.  Again, a few inches above those cords, another set further pinned her arms to her torso, cutting deeply into her flat belly.  These were also cinched with cords which ran between her arms and her back, tightening them even more.   The elbow strap was at last released, but only so more cord could replace it.  A half dozen wraps crushed the blonde’s elbows together, thrusting her tits forward in embarrassing fashion. 

   “Such lovely accessories,” Jamie had purred, unable to avoid the attention they seemed to demand.

   She grabbed and squeezed the firm flesh, swelling Heather’s tender nipples against their recent piercings.  Jamie tugged playfully at the glittering rings as they bobbed and jiggled at the tips of Heather’s nipples.

   “Let’s get these puppies contained a bit,” she chuckled.

   Jamie’s idea of containment was for a half dozen wraps of sisal to cut into the top third of Heather’s breasts, and another six to slice equally deep into the bottom third.  This left the center third, as well as Heather’s puffy, pierced nipples to bulge through between the tight cords.  These cords circled the blonde agent’s torso, and with the other pinioning cords made any movement of her arms impossible.

   “Spread your legs,” Jamie’s command had been issued harshly.

   Heather could feel Jamie fumbling with her wrist in back.  When Heather balked at the request, Jamie walked around front.

   “I would be happy to bring…what’s her name?...Samantha!...I would be happy to bring that little slut in and inflict multiple agony’s on her,” Jamie hissed.

   Heather shut her eyes.  It was no time to call anyone’s bluff.

  She spread her legs apart.

   “Very good,” Jamie whispered, moving in close to get a scent of the helpless blonde.

   Heather felt the woman’s hand sliding between her legs, as her teeth nibbled at the nipples thrust disgustingly forward.  As the woman stroked at her sex, Heather could feel warmth spreading through her loins, and she silently cursed her body’s seeming inability to ignore ANY attention given it.  The seasoned fingers sought out Heather’s clit, pinching it, and rolling it around until the blood began to flow into the stimulated region. 

   “You know why I’m doing this?” Jamie whispered in the bound agent’s ear.

   Heather moaned.

   “Aw, come on take a guess,” Jamie was enjoying the reaction of her captive.

   Her fingers were strumming rapidly now.  Heather watched wide-eyed as Jamie knelt and snatched something off the floor from between the agent’s spread legs.  It was the excess length of cord left over when her wrists had been fastened.  Jamie looped the free end over the waist rope in front.  Heather’s spine tingled at the sight of the thin scratchy sisal, wrapped twice around Jamie’s clenched fist. 

   “I’d hate to deprive you of the full effects of a cunt-cutter sawing through your non-stimulated cunt,” Jamie hissed, pulling harshly on the thin sisal.

   Heather bit down hard on the gag, tears welling up in her eyes.

   “Wow, I’m impressed,” Jamie said, tying the cord off with a series of overhand knots.  “Most women would have been on their knees with that bit of savagery.”

   Heather didn’t need any accolades at the moment.  What she needed was for the punishing cord to be removed from her sex immediately.  The action had drawn the blonde girls hands into the crease of her ass, the fingers wedged there so firmly that separating her palms was no longer an option. 

   “Now your legs,” Jamie smirked, indicating she wanted Heather to sit on the floor.

   Through watery eyes, Heather gingerly knelt, the “cunt-cutter” working her sensitive sex like a hacksaw blade.  She lay as still as possible while Jamie took after her legs with more of the brutally thin cord.  First came the ankles, then the calves, and again just below the knees, all knotted and cinched.  More went just above the knees, another set at mid-thigh, then finally at the upper thighs, at that point where the sweet swell of her buttocks gracefully met the toned column of her upper thighs.  The thin cord was pulled deeply into Agent Duncan’s legs forcing the lovely flesh to bulge around it.

   Jamie checked the tightness of the cords, nodding with approval.

   “Almost done,” Jamie chided, shoving the helpless blonde over onto her belly. 

   Heather could feel cord being fastened to those already binding her ankles, and she groaned with the recognition of what was to come next.  Her ankles were jerked up high behind her, the cord fastened to them having been looped through the cords at her elbows.  The bending of her legs exacted a price, causing the thin rope to cut wickedly into her legs as they flexed, but cost didn’t seem to be an issue as far as Jamie was concerned.  She tugged and pulled the connecting cord, not stopping until Heather’s ankles were directly over her butt, then tied it off at the elbows.  Another coil of the thin cord appeared.  Jamie doubled it, looped it over Heather’s insteps, and took another wrap before cinching it tight.  This cord too, was taken up to the elbow bonds, pulled tight, and fastened, pulling and arching Heather’s feet, and further restricting movement.  More cord appeared.  Heather rolled her eyes.  How could she possibly be restrained any more thoroughly?  Jamie grabbed a clump of platinum mane, twisting the wet hair into a cable-sized mass, before looping and tightening cord around it.  The free end of this was then run down behind her and tied to the cords fastening her calves together.  It seemed an odd detail.  It wasn’t tight enough to really cause the young agent any real anguish.  But, of course, that soon changed.  Heather heard the cable descending before she had confirmation of what it represented.  Jamie grabbed the connecting cord between hair and legs with one hand, while her other hand merged it with the snap-hook at the end of the cable. 

   Heather’s eyes widened as the true method to Jamie’s madness became clear.  Before any real protestations could be uttered, Jamie had raised the cable, thus bowing the blonde girl’s body.  Heather’s head rose up and back and her tits were drawn off the floor, the silver nipple rings quivering as her breasts jiggled.  Her knees were drawn off the floor as well, putting her athletic body in a terrible strain.  The drawing of her body backwards slightly loosened the “ankles-to-elbows” as well as the “insteps-to-elbows” tie, and Jamie found the sight of any cord not drawn to military tightness an affront to her rope-tying abilities.  When she was done Heather was far more tightly bound than she had ever been, and under the circumstances, that was saying something.

   Jamie stood and smiled down on her helpless prey.

   It was obvious the blonde agent was in agony. Every turn of the thin cord not only completely restrained her, but each seemed to be attached to some other equally tight stricture, pulling her body against itself in an apparent effort to find the weakest link.  Sweat beaded over her entire body.

   “Not bad, if I do say so myself,” she complimented herself. 

   She nudged the tightly trussed blonde with her foot, chuckled, and sent a text to Katrina.

  

   “Oh my Duncan…”  it was Mallory’s voice, drawing the suffering agent back into the present.  “So I take it you met Jamie?”

   From her perch on the floor, Heather could see three sets of legs.  They belonged to Jamie, her bare legs emerging from the white miniskirt to rest atop some sexy black leather boots laced to her knees; Mallory, her lovely bare legs visible nearly to her crotch because of the form-fitting, cream colored single piece micro-miniskirt she wore.  Her black leather pump only made her long legs seem longer, and Heather could see she wore the briefest of teal colored thongs under the dress.  It snapped down the front to about her naval, but the top three snaps remained unfastened, allowing her breasts and stiff nipples to enhance it.  The last set of legs belonged to the ever popular Samantha.  It seemed they could find even more creative and painful ways to bind the young blonde.  She was naked except for the shiny black leather thigh-high boots with the six inch heels and her restraints.  She wore a sexy custom made single glove of black leather.  It was similar to the one Heather had been forced into when she had been taken from her room in Seattle.  It not only crushed the blonde teen’s elbows painfully together, but drew her shoulders back in close proximity as well.  The glove narrowed from the shoulders downward, and contained laces so that any unwanted slack could be easily removed, and needless to say there wasn’t a millimeter of slack anywhere.  Samantha’s fingers were crammed into the base of the sleeve, and that’s where the interior opening of the device ended, but the leather itself continued in the form of a tail for another 18 inches or so.  That was more than enough length for it to be drawn through her butt, and to cleave her labia, and rise to be buckled at the incredible waist cinch.  Heather couldn’t know it, but the strap owed its tightness to Hugo’s strength, and Samantha’s swollen, puffy vulva was Exhibit A in the “how tight can he make it” museum. Every step was a punishment of its own.  Gone was the hood and ring gag.  In its place was a monstrous black ball gag, and Heather could see it was buckled well past excruciating, and teetering on barbaric.  Mallory led the young girl around until she stood directly in front of Heather, and the tightly bound agent clenched her eyes shut against the sight that Mallory had been eager to show her.  Like her sister, Samantha now was adorned with stainless rings which pierced through her small, eraser-hard nipples.  Her small breasts were drawn almost flat against her upper torso due to the incredibly stringent binding of her arms.

   Mallory knelt in front of the straining agent.

   “You know how much lovely Sam-I-Am here wants to be like older sis,” she laughed.

   She reached forward and cupped Heather’s breasts, then tugged playfully on her pierced nipples.

   “I always knew you looked fantastic naked,” Mallory smirked.  “But naked AND trussed up like this makes you a delicacy.”

   She leaned forward and licked a bead of sweat rolling down Heather’s forehead, ruffled her hair, and stood once again.

   “Really Duncan, if I didn’t have places to be I’d stay and entertain myself with you a while.  You were always good for entertainment.  But then, that’s where this little tart comes in,” Mallory chided, motioning towards Samantha.

   “She doesn’t present near the problems you do, and she’s gorgeous as hell,” Mallory smiled, running her hand into the deep crease created by the leather through Samantha’s crotch.  “As they say, ‘she takes a whipping and keeps on licking.’”

   She walked back over to Heather.

   “I just thought before we left, I’d give you one more opportunity to talk,” Mallory hissed.  “And since your mouth is appropriately stuffed, you have my permission to blink three times rapidly if the answer is yes.”

   Heather cursed into the gag.

   “I figured as much,” Mallory sighed. 

   She nodded to Jamie, who pushed the button raising the cable attached to the multitude of bindings restraining the helpless agent.  There was a creaking sound as the thin cord constricted even more, arching Heather’s body and finally lifting it free of the floor.  They continued to raise her until she was several feet in the air.  Then Jamie released the button, leaving the blonde to slowly spin.

   Mallory walked over and grabbed one of the nipple rings to stop the spinning process.  She bent slightly until her face was directly in front of Heather’s.

   “Bye love,” she whispered, then kissed the blonde girl on her forehead.   “Until we meet again.”

   She turned and grabbed Samantha by a strap at the back of the straight jacket, and the two left the room. 

   Heather hurled muffled threats at their retreating footsteps.  There was a moment of awkward silence, and then a faint explosion could be heard, followed by the unmistakable sound of semi-automatic weapons being fired.  Jamie looked at the two captives as if to decide what to do with them.  Deciding that cutting them free would be too time consuming, she left them to suffer while she made a beeline exit.  There was more gunfire, and several more explosions, and then the lights went out.

   “I think she knew,” Heather said, shaking her head dejectedly.

   “Impossible,” Keri said sullenly.  “We implanted the tracking device into you at the hotel room while you were out due to the drugged wine.  It was the only way we could think of to find Sam and Alicia over here.  We knew that if we even informed you there was risk of blowing our cover.”

   Keri rubbed the numerous deep red grooves on Agent Duncan’s body, while two more F.I.T agents tended to Alicia. 

   “There was no way she could have known we were coming,” Keri continued.

   “You don’t know her like I do,” Heather said softly.  “She has a way.”

   There was a long period of silence.

   “Any thoughts on where they might be headed?” Keri asked.

   Heather shook her head.

   “Well, we managed to get a couple of her cohorts.  We’ll work them over for all they know,” Keri continued.

   “They won’t know anything,” Heather said.  “They’re just pawns in a game.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________

  

   

   Weeks later in a well fortified hut complex deep in the forests of Brazil….

   “Quiet you little slut!” Mallory hissed staring at her screen.  “All that racket will bring the Yanamamo.”

   She continued to type and peer at the screen on her laptop in the absence of light.

   “You know, some of them have a hearty appetite for young blondes.” 

  Mallory continued to type.  It was apparent she was having some kind of chat.  At last she turned off the computer, and approached the distressed girl.  The low humming told Mallory that all was still operational. 

   “You’re getting quite good,” Mallory said, tugging on the cord that tied Samantha’s nipple rings together.  She reached down and turned the dial on the vibrator up.  “Let’s see if you can last five more minutes on high.”

   It was a challenge they both knew would not be met.  The command forbidding the girl to cum had been adhered to only because the setting on the vibrator had been mid-range.  Even then, Samantha had to focus totally on the tightness of her bondage in order to take her mind off the buzzing deep in her sex.  The fact that she had been allowed even close proximity to this measure of pleasure was due to the fact that she had utterly satisfied Mallory earlier in the evening. Mallory stood in front of her captive clad only in her night shirt, which went unbuttoned down the front showing most of her toned, athletic form.  Her nipples stiffened at the sight of the helpless, excited young girl before her.  There were only the two of them in the room, a small flickering candle casting shadows over the interior of the sparsely furnished interior.  The sound of soft rain could be heard through the room.  The air was heavy and warm, and a thick film of sweat coated the bound girl.  Her whimpering was muffled by the large, thick round dowel crammed between her jaws, and held in place with thin, dark leather cord.  The same cord held her naked body in its rigid state.  Her arms had been folded up over and behind her head with both the wrists and elbows tightly lashed.  Cord went from her wrists around her upper arms to keep them as such.  She was tied to a crude, but stout wooden post which rose from the dirt floor at a slight angle.  Samantha was tied tightly to the post by leather cords at her belly and above and below her breasts, so that her body was slightly reclined against the post.  The elbows and wrists were actually behind this post so that the post was between her arms and head.  Her ankles were lashed cruelly to her thighs, with a three foot wooden pole lashed between her knees keeping her legs spread widely apart.  This too ran behind the post and was secured to a ring pounded into the dirt floor about a foot behind its base, and it allowed her knees to just barely touch the ground.   Mallory had taped the battery-powered vibrator to the end of a wooden stick, then wedged it up hard against Samantha’s spread sex before turning it on with the warning to keep her arousal in check, and then had gone to tend her computer. But with her business now done, she hoped to have some fun at the young girl’s expense.

   Mallory ran her hands down the sweat and drool soaked belly of her victim, her fingernails adding further to the torment of the vibrator.  Samantha was holding out, but just barely.  She continued down to the swollen, puffy vulva, and then squeezed the flesh around so it more thoroughly enveloped the buzzing invader. That proved to be the final straw.  Within the confines of her tight bondage, the tiny blonde quivered.  She moaned and bit down hard on the dowel between her jaws, then her entire body shook some more.  Mallory laughed and tugged on her nipple rings, tied together so wickedly that the nipples nearly kissed.  Eventually it was over. 

   “You poor thing,” Mallory laughed.  “You were doing so well too.  If it wasn’t bedtime, you of course would be punished.  Now you will have something to look forward to tomorrow.”

  She walked over to a nearby table, and poured herself a glass of chilled white wine.

   “I wonder if big sis realizes how much fun you’re having,” she taunted the girl.

   Mallory bent and rubbed her fingers through the blonde girl’s wet sex.

   “Maybe we will see just how good Agent Heather Duncan really is.”

This concludes this story.  I will hope to begin a sequel sometime soon.  At any rate, I hope some of you found this enjoyable. 

Ari

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

    

    

  

  

     

  

    

  

  

  

  

  

   

  

   “Welcome to Rio, Miss Duncan,” said the young woman.  “I am to give you a ride to your hotel.”

   Heather sized her up for a moment.  She appeared to be about twenty, with long black hair.  She wore white slacks, black high heels, and a yellow blouse, but the kicker was the gold necklace with the upside down heart-shaped ruby.  When Heather saw it, she knew the girl was legit.

   “Thank you,” Heather smiled.  “I only have these two bags.”

   As usual when she travelled, headquarters would pay for her clothing needs as she went.

   The girl loaded the bags into the trunk of the limousine, and opened the door for Heather.

   “Ever been to Rio before?” the girl asked once they were on their way.

   “No,” Heather said quietly.

   “Well, you’ll find some of the world’s most beautiful beaches right here,” the girl gushed.  “I hope you take the time to enjoy them.”

   Heather was tired from the long flight, but she enjoyed the young girl’s enthusiasm.  She did plan on enjoying the beaches.  She had learned some things in the last months.  While her aching desire to rescue Samantha had not dimmed, she realized that her own well-being had to be placated too.  She had to be sharp and well rested, or she was of little use to Samantha, or F.I.T for that matter.  Just because she took the time to enjoy some of life’s little pleasures did not mean she had forgotten about her sister.  It just meant that she was not going to allow Mallory to rule her life in absentia.  The fact that Mallory had taken to the young teen was a good thing as far as Samantha’s life being in danger.  Heather just tried not to allow her mind to obsess on what types of tortures and punishments were being administered.

   After a ride of some twenty minutes, they arrived at the hotel.  The girl unloaded Heather’s two bags, and spoke to a bellman in Portuguese.  The man smiled and nodded, picking up the bags and scurrying inside. 

   “You’ll not need to check in,” the girl smiled.  “Enjoy your stay, Miss Duncan.”

   Heather thanked her, turned to look at the surroundings, and made her way into the hotel.

   “Are you here for the barbeque?” Heather asked the woman at the door.

   “No, I’m here for the baby shower,” the girl replied in a heavy accent.

   Heather gave her the once over.  Her reply was on cue.

  “Come in,” she said, opening the door.

   The girl was younger than she had expected.  Tall, but slender and athletic, she was a beauty by any standards.  She wore a dress that would have been eye-popping anywhere other than Rio.

   “My name is Kelly,” the woman said removing her sunglasses.  “I would enjoy the honor of taking you to dinner at one of Rio’s finest restaurants.  We can discuss business there.”

   Heather nodded.

   “Do you have something to wear?” Kelly said, walking to the middle of the room.

   With her glasses off, Heather could see she possessed a stunning set of blue-grey eyes.  Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and fell midway down her back.  She had full lips painted light pink.  Her breasts, while not overly large, were accentuated well in her sexy dress.  The dress was a black mini with cut out sides.  The panels that just barely covered her in front and back were connected with gold chain at two places along her hips.  She wore some large gold earrings which fell in a fan shape, with three smaller fans coming off the base.  A gold necklace with a large gold pendant hung between her breasts, and rested at the narrow panel covering her belly.  She stood slightly taller than Heather in her gold high heeled sandals, but had the F.I.T agent not been barefoot, they would have been similar in height.  Several designer bracelets graced her arms, and she carried a small shiny black leather purse.

   Heather had been so absorbed in taking the girl in that she forgot for a moment she had been asked a question.

   “Yes, I have something to wear,” she smiled.

   Kelly looked around.

   “Please, have a seat,” Heather indicated the large living area of the hotel room.

   “Can I get you a glass of wine?” Heather asked.

   “Yes please,” Kelly answered. 

   Heather opened a chilled bottle from the refrigerator, and poured them each a glass.

  “I’ll be just a few minutes,” Heather said, heading off to the bedroom to dress.

   Heather smiled to herself as she changed clothes.  Kelly was different than she had expected, but she seemed to be a genuinely lovely girl.  She needed a night out to unwind, and what better way to spend it than with a gorgeous local girl with a heavenly Portuguese accent.

   Ten minutes later Heather returned to the living room.

   “How’s this?” Heather smiled, turning to model the dress.

   Kelly’s eyes widened, and then worked their way into a smile.

   “Awesome,” she whispered.

   It was a platinum colored mini that clung to Heather like a second skin, accentuating her lush curves, and rivaling her companion’s dress in brevity.   The elastic halter straps served to mold her large breasts attractively, and the patent leather buckles at the side cutouts emphasized Heather’s toned legs.  She wore a pair of leather high heeled, open-toed black pumps. Her hair was in a ponytail, falling to the base of her back.

   “Let’s do it,” Heather grinned.

  

    In a clearing in the middle of the forest, a small band of people looked on as several crates of supplies were placed on the ground. The crates had been brought in on the nearby river, and then carried the short distance further.  Some tents with camouflage awnings had been set up in advance.  It was nearing dusk, and they would not be working after dark, so the day was nearly done.  Most of the work was being done by natives.  They were smallish, muscular, dark-skinned men who paid little attention to the group observing them.  That  group consisted of Mallory, several middle aged Brazilian men who despite their jungle-wear  still had the appearance of business folks, a girl Sonja, who was in her late twenties and was apparently the daughter of one of the businessmen, and Samantha.  Most of them were clothed in variations of khaki or camouflage colored clothing, but most of it was stained with sweat from the heat and humidity.   Samantha was different.   Her clothing consisted of a very brief pair of cutoff denim shorts, a tight, plain white t-shirt, brown leather cowboy boots, and leather cord.  The tight leather cord portion of her wardrobe served to hold her wrists and elbows tightly together behind her back.  Those men not familiar with Mallory were stunned to see the beautiful, half-naked, tightly bound teen.   The rest found it amusing, but not surprising. 

   The girl who was the daughter of one of the men had found the arduous trip rather boring.  She was ready to get back to the city, but she also knew much of her future depended on what happened deep here in the forest.  But her curiosity with the young blonde captive forced her to circle around behind the group as they were busy watching the crates be placed.  She moved in close to the girl, noting the tightness with which her elbows had been tied.  The thin leather had been wrapped around a few inches above the girl’s joints, and cinched.  It drew her arms back into what had to be a painful position with the elbows pressed tightly against one another, thrusting her small lovely breasts forward against the tight white t-shirt, and it could easily be observed, even through the shirt, that her nipples were pierced.  Her body was deeply tanned, contrasting with the white of her top.  Her bound wrists rested at the swell of her buttocks.   A large, leather wrapped chunk of wood filled her mouth, tied tightly in place with more leather drilled and knotted through the wood.  Her thighs had deep red marks indicating they too had been tightly bound.    She moved back a distance from the girl, not wanting to draw attention to herself, but she couldn’t help but glance frequently over at the helpless young girl.

   “So, this is where it all starts,” one of the men finally asked.

   “Right here,” Mallory smiled.

   She was dressed for the occasion in a pair of lightweight hiking boots, and camo pants that tucked into the top of the boots.  She had a dark green T-shirt on, and an athletic bra underneath, which in spite of its attempts failed to keep completely in check Mallory’s erect nipples.

   “So what is the secret?” asked another man.  “Is this for real, or is it another gimmick to take advantage of the ignorant masses who believe in such myths.”

   Mallory laughed.

   “I can assure you its real,” Mallory said.  “The natives have used the drug for years.  It had hallucinogenic qualities, but it wasn’t until some portion of it was mixed in with some of the by-product of the cocaine process that the REAL qualities were discovered.”

   The men looked from one to the other.

   “Shit, those poor bastards in Asia will pay boatloads for this, if it’s really what you say,” one of them said excitedly.

   “You say it works equally on men and women?” another man asked.

   “Yes,” Mallory smirked.  “If I were to give a portion to lovely Sam here, we would probably have to restrain her much more thoroughly just to keep her from throwing herself on all of you.”

   Samantha’s eyes widened at the perceived experiment.

   “No, I’ll give you all some,” Mallory went on.  “You do your own experimenting, and then we’ll talk.  But I can assure you there’s a fortune just waiting to be made here.”

   There was a good bit of murmuring in the group.

   “We have a camp a couple of miles down the river,” Mallory continued.  “It doesn’t have all the luxuries of home, but I think you find it amazingly comfortable.  We can stay there tonight, get a good night’s sleep, and return tomorrow where you can get some fresh samples to take with you.”

   Again the men looked from one to the other, nodding in agreement.

   “Very well,” Mallory smiled.  “I’ll take the first smaller boat.  The rest of you can follow us.”

   She turned and spoke to some of the natives, gesturing with her hands, and then grabbed the leash descending from Samantha’s neck.  With Mallory and Samantha in the lead, the group followed.

   “So, do you approve of Rio?” Kelly smiled as the two of them sat down. 

   The strains of Brazilian music could still be heard, and they had enjoyed the dancing, but neither one of them had eaten yet.  They decided to sit this one out.

   “Awesome,” Heather replied.

   “Hungry?” Kelly asked.

   Heather nodded.

   Kelly motioned, and seconds later a young man appeared.  Kelly said something to him in Portuguese, and he motioned for them to follow him.  Minutes later they were seated in a quiet area, well removed from the gyrations of the young Brazilians.

   The man produced a couple of menus, smiled and said something to Kelly.   Heather was irritated she couldn’t understand the language.  Kelly nodded, and returned the conversation to the waiter, who nodded and left.

   “OK, what was all that about,” Heather asked.

   “That’s Luis,” she said.  “He’s a favorite of mine.  He wanted to know who my attractive friend was, and could he meet you later.”

   “And you said….?” Heather asked.

   “I told him you had a headache,” Kelly said stoically.

   There was a silence, and then Kelly busted out laughing.

  “I told him we would meet him and his friend after work,” Kelly said.  “We’ll go for a drive downtown and let you see Rio up close.”

   Heather smiled and nodded.   She could use that, and besides, she liked the way Luis moved. 

   “Let’s order,” Heather said.

  

 

  

   There had been drinks and dinner.  Then some more drinks.  Most of the men retreated to a small room and smoked cigars, others retired for the evening.  Sonja, being a lush-bodied lass drew many clumsy overtures, but the dark haired beauty, while playing along, gracefully, rebuffed all their advances.   Mallory and a still naked and tightly bound Samantha, engaged the guests for a time, then they too retired. 

   Sonja waited a good fifteen minutes, then she too left the room of men.  But she didn’t go straight to her sleeping quarters.  She nosed around, guessing correctly that Mallory would not be staying in any of the long row of rooms, sandwiched together down a narrow hallway.  Instead, she crept outside.  She made her way under the cover of darkness around the fortified hut complex.  At last she noticed a faint light coming from a room at the far end of the compound.  She moved towards it, realizing there was a reed-like shade pulled down over the window opening.  It was deceiving in that the opening was higher than it appeared, and she realized she would need to get above the ground to see into the room.  There was a tree nearby, and having climbed trees almost from the time she was born, Sonja had no trouble gaining access to one of the bottom branches in short order.  Seating herself on the branch, she had a perfect view of the interior of the room, in spite of the shade which was designed more to keep insects out.  The sight was mesmerizing.  Samantha knelt on the floor, her wrists no longer bound, but her elbows still tightly welded together, and she was now completely naked.  A length of leather ran from her elbows up to the back strap of the ring gag wedged tightly between her teeth, keeping her mouth open, and her tongue exposed.  It also angled her head sharply back.  Her big toes were linked with thin leather, and that end had been tied to her elbows, keeping the young girl in a kneeling position.   Mallory was completely naked as well, her toned body already well pleasured as she stood just in front of the bound teen.

   As she watched, Sonja could see the older girl’s breathing increase.  There was a soft moaning.  Not anything approaching an attention-getting level, but enough to know that the tiny blonde was getting the job done.  Mallory grabbed Samantha’s head and crammed her deeper into her wet sex, holding her face there until finally, mercifully so for Samantha, Mallory’s body trembled with a flush of pleasure.

   When it was over, Mallory forced the young captive to clean her, and only when the last remnants of her pleasure had been carefully cleaned was the job complete.

   “You’re becoming an adequate play-toy,” Mallory understated.  “That kind of effort will spare these lovely jewels from getting whipped tonight.”

   As she spoke, Mallory tugged on Samantha’s pierced nipples.  She smiled, and knelt to free her toes and hair from her elbows.  Samantha was pulled to her feet by the elbow cords, and escorted over to the bed, where she was unceremoniously deposited.  Her ankles were crossed and bound, then attached to a wooden slat at the foot of the bed.  Another cord looped around her neck, and was attached to another slat at the head of the bed.  Mallory checked the security of the leather, and then blew out the candle, ending the show for the tree climbing voyeur.   Sonja quietly descended from the tree, making her way to her private hut, where she sat on the bed for many minutes before finally getting some sleep.

   “Why on earth do you wait tables and bartend?” Heather asked.

   “Because I enjoy it,” Luis smiled.  “Would you like a glass of wine?”

   Heather nodded, stunned by the view out the window.

   The four of them had partied together for several hours.  Luis, Manuel, and Kelly had known each other for some time.  Kelly and Manuel had known each other intimately.  And Heather had easily been taken with the handsome Luis.  They conversed as the other couple danced, and their conversation flowed easily.  After dancing, they had taken Luis’s Lexus through the streets, showing Heather the beautiful sights of downtown Rio.  Then they began the climb which eventually led them to Luis home.  It was a stunning home, with a view of the lights of Rio from high above the city.  As she learned, Luis had inherited the home a year earlier from a wealthy uncle.  It had a beautiful den, with glass panels that looked out on a pool, as well as the city. 

   Luis poured her a glass of wine, setting it on the counter.

   There was laughter, and they saw Manuel and Kelly, now in their swimsuits, running towards the pool.

   “It’s like magic,” Heather whispered.

   “Yes, I suppose it is,” Luis sighed.  “I’ve become a bit accustomed to it, which is why I enjoy bringing new people here.  It renews my appreciation for it.”

   In the pool, Manuel and Kelly were affectionately embracing.

   “They’ve grown rather fond of one another,” Luis smiled.

   “And you….?” Heather asked

   Luis smiled.

   “Still waiting,” he said softly.

   Heather looked back out the window.

   “Would you like to join them?” Luis asked.

   Heather looked at him.  He had moved over close to her, and she confirmed what she had thought earlier, that he was in terrific physical condition.

   “Not really,” she said softly, her pulse quickening slightly.  “I kind of like the view in here.”

   Luis moved in closer, and Heather’s could hear her own heart beating.  It had been weeks since she had been in the company of another person, and she found herself suddenly desiring some intimacy.  He set his wine glass down.

   “Tell me, Heather Duncan, why is your hand shaking?” Luis asked.

   It was.  And it pissed her off that it was.  She looked down at it, and Luis grabbed her glass, gently placing it beside his own. 

   “Please….” she said, not really knowing what she wanted to say next.

   Luis smoothed a long strand of hair away from her eyes.  They were so close each could feel the warmth of the other’s body. 

   “May I kiss…..” it was as far as he got.

   Heather lunged towards him, her body pressing hard against his, her lips full and parted.

   Luis felt her large, firm breasts press against his chest.  His hands gripped the hem of her mini dress, pulling it up above her butt.  Beneath was her black thong, and Luis slipped it down her long, sexy, legs.  Her hands sought out the belt on his denim trousers, tugging it loose.  At the same time he pulled the elastic halter straps down, freeing her magnificent breasts.  Luis’s trousers were down around his knees, and Heather grabbed the front of his briefs.  His erection was already straining against the front of them, and Heather had difficulty sliding them over it, but she succeeded, its firmness springing into view.  She grabbed it, feeling it harden even more in her hand.   The dress seemed to be hindering things, so Heather shed it completely, nude now except for her black pumps.  Luis’s heart quickened at the sight of her beauty.  Heather’s strong fingers stroked him into rigid erection.  She spun around, and bent while still gripping him, guiding him to her from behind.  They both gasped as he entered her, and Luis thrust forward until she was fully impaled on him.  He grabbed her by the hips and began to rhythmically thrust in and out.  Heather moaned softly as she felt his length penetrating her, rapidly making the experience more pleasurable.  Luis clenched his eyes as he felt her vaginal muscles clamping onto him with each surge, her natural lubrication making each thrust more pleasant than the last, and her beautiful ass cushioning his motions.   After a couple of minutes Heather pulled herself free, turning once again to face him.  They embraced, and again her felt her wonderful large breasts press against his chest.  She hopped onto a low table, guiding him once again into her vagina, and swung her legs around his waist.  Luis could feel her muscular legs prodding him to action, and he began to thrust more rapidly. Their frenzied love-making threatened the structure of the table, but it held together long enough for them to reach an explosive climax simultaneously.

   There followed a long period of silence.  Only the panting of each of them kept it from being total.

   “That was one hell of a kiss,” Luis finally blurted.

   “You mean that’s not the customary way of doing such here in Rio?” Heather panned.

   Luis laughed.

   “Perhaps I’ve just always had low expectations,” he grinned.

   The two embraced.  Heather felt as whole as she had in some time.

   “What do you say we join them,” Luis said, nodding towards the pool area.

   “Can we take our wine?” Heather grinned.

   “Absolutely.”

   Morning in the rain forest was Mallory’s favorite time.  There was a serenity about it that seemed to transcend the fact that it could be a violent place.  The morning had been a mixed blessing for Samantha.  As was their custom, she serviced Mallory upon awakening, and performed admirably.  So well in fact, that a short time later Mallory demanded an encore, and this time Samantha failed miserably.  It was the product of a poor night’s sleep, and a general disinterest after having so recently performed at a high level.  There were some minor transgressions that Mallory was willing to overlook.  This wasn’t one of them.  Samantha whimpered in agony.

   “Oh hush up!” Mallory scolded her.  “Another hour of that ought to teach you that I expect results when I call on you.  Otherwise you’re just eye-candy.”

   Samantha about choked on her gag.  Yes, she was treated as so much more than “eye-candy.”

   “See you after a while,” Mallory taunted her, before leaving to make arrangements for their departure.

   As Mallory walked down the hallway, one thing she didn’t notice was one of the doors to the individual suites was just slightly ajar.  After she had passed, it opened further and Sonja quietly tip-toed down to the room she had seen Mallory exit from.  There was no kind of lock, just a wooden latch, and Sonja took one last look around before entering.

   In the room, more or less in the center, was Samantha.  It was immediately apparent she was being punished.  There could be no other reason to tie her that way.  She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and she was going to sit there until she was set free.  Her arms were almost in a straight line to the ceiling, fastened together tightly at the wrists and elbows with thin black leather, then jerked high behind her and fastened to a ceiling support.  There was nothing gentle about the way they were fastened.  Already the young girl’s hands were turning blue, and the elbows had been tied with a tightness that indicated a disdain for her comfort.  But that part of the bondage was only a taste of the true devious nature of her punishment.  Her ankles were folded up yoga-style so they rested with the tops of her feet on the opposite thigh.  The ankles had been bound crossed, and then secured to her waist, keeping her legs in close, and making it impossible to garner any relief for her arms.  But that wasn’t the worst.  The final punishment had been the thin cord noosed around each of her big toes, looped through each respective nipple ring, and then tightened until the nipples were distended.  A four inch ball gag tightened painfully tight kept her protests from disturbing their guests. 

   Sonja couldn’t help but be impressed by the restraints.  It was so simple, yet so brutally effective.  She had studied, and appreciated art, and something about the whole scene struck her as being artistic.  It was a study in contrasts, so to speak:  A young, startlingly beautiful woman, in stringent, painful bondage, in the middle of a rain forest, for starters.  But that was just the situational contrast.  The physical contrasts were just as stark.  Her slender nude body and blonde hair, against the dark, thin cord so tightly restraining it. The smooth, unblemished tan skin and the sheen of sweat rapidly spreading out over it; the sleek muscles just under that skin, and how they were held in such a strained position as if, at any moment, they would burst free and her tortured body would resume a more natural position. 

   Sonja crept in closer.  It was truly a wicked piece of bondage.  The natural reaction of someone bound as such would be to try and shift their weight to alleviate the strain on their arms.  And the girl was attempting to do so in a very pitiful way.  But doing so brought pain to her nipples.  The best thing to do was to remain as still as possible, but that was difficult, at best. 

   Without thinking, Sonja reached out and touched the girl’s arms, causing her to flinch as if she’d been stung.  Of course that pulled harshly on the toes-to-nipples cord and once again Samantha had to will her body to remain still.  She swiveled her head slowly, and looked through pain-glazed eyes at the source of the contact.  Sonja looked back, feeling a sense of bewilderment at first, then a growing sense of superiority.  She knew there was absolutely nothing the bound girl could do to stop her from touching her anywhere she pleased, and she intended to take advantage of that, at least for a time.

   She knelt beside the girl, her fingers groping at Samantha’s small breasts, and pinching her nipples.  Samantha groaned into her gag.  She had not looked forward to her solitary punishment, but she had grown used to it.  On some levels, it was actually a bit of a blessing in that she was not forced into some degrading manner of servitude.  But certainly this put a new spin on things.  She felt the girl’s hand run down across her ribcage, across her belly, and then into the crease of her sex.  Samantha clenched her eyes shut, her whimpers and moans taking on a more pleading nature.  Sonja knew she didn’t have all day, but she didn’t come this far merely to take a peek.  Her fingers parted the lips of Samantha’s sex and she slipped one finger, and then a second one inside.  Samantha squirmed, but that caused her toes to pull on her pained nipples again, so she stopped and remained still. Sonja was enjoying herself immensely.  Her fingers sought out and pinched the young blonde’s clitoris, smiling at the way if caused her to struggle.  For Sonja it was a newfound elixir.  She had never really gotten into the domination game, but this was fun.  The look in the young girl’s eyes spoke volumes.  It was a look that said “you must be an even crazier bitch than the one that left me tied like this.” 

   Sonja removed her fingers from the girl’s vagina and wiped them across Samantha’s lips, stretched as they were around the gag.

   “You sit tight,” she whispered.   “I’ll have you soon.  All of you.” 

   Sonja reached in and gave the blonde girl’s nipples another hard squeeze, bent in close and bit at her ear, and then retreated out of the room.

   “The view is just as spectacular in the daytime,” Heather smiled, looking out the bedroom window.

   Luis, still in bed, propped himself up on his elbows.

   “Indeed,” he smiled.

   His view was of Heather’s naked backside, and he felt himself becoming aroused as he looked on.  Her long blonde hair fell to her waist, and even from behind he could see the sides of her large round breasts.  Her long muscular legs, slightly parted, provided an erotic silhouette against the advancing daylight streaming through the windows.  Heather felt him as he came in behind her, his hands reaching around to fondle her magnificent breasts.  He was erect, his penis poking at her butt as he buried his nose in her hair.

   Heather spread her legs a bit wider, and wiggled her ass seductively against his manhood, which immediately sprang to full attention.

   “Do you ever think of anything else?” she giggled.

   “With you around, no,” he said.

   Heather placed her hands against the pane of glass, and shoved her ass against him.  Luis reached down and guided his own hardened flesh between her legs, and into her moist mound.  Heather gasped as he filled her, and began her own rhythmic gyration.  For several minutes the pane of glass shook, then the two of them came together in a cataclysmic melding of pleasure.  At last they drew apart, each in the glow of satisfaction. 

   “Here, put these on,” Heather laughed, throwing Luis a pair of swim-trunks.   “Let’s get that big boy hidden before wakes up and wants to play again.”

   It was a sweltering day in the rainforest.  While the temperature held steady at ninety degrees, it felt much hotter due to the high humidity.  A passing shower had cooled things briefly, but once again the group was fanning their faces and necks to keep cool.  Adding to the misery was a vat with a bubbling cauldron, courtesy of a fire-fed heat source.  A white paste-like substance had been added to the vat, along with a greenish, powdery substance, and then the whole mixture had been allowed to boil for a good hour.

   During the wait many of the men had ventured about, with a stern warning to stay within eyesight.  They wouldn’t want to meet some of the jungle’s local tenants, Mallory warned them.  Several of them took up residence on nearby stumps of trees which had been cleared away for the current laboratory to do its business. 

   Samantha was once again forced to make the journey.  She was dressed much as she had been the previous day, in her brief denim cutoffs and cowboy boots.  She wore a sleeveless white t-shirt, and again was braless beneath it.  Her arms were draped around a thick length of wood which nestled in the crook of her elbows.  Her wrists were tied together in front with the thin leather.  She was seated at the base of a tree and bound to it by the neck.  Her legs were stretched out in front of her, ankles crossed and bound, and her thighs tightly lashed together.  Her gag for the day was a large black ball gag, buckled excruciatingly tight, and a little added torment, one which could not be so easily discerned, were the twin alligator clips fastened onto each of her nipples.

      Sonja once again couldn’t help but glance at the young blonde, but on this occasion she noticed her glances being returned.  Samantha’s glances took on a totally different tone however.  While Sonja studied the tightness of the leather, and the beauty of the small breasts thrust against the wet t-shirt, Samantha stared back as if to say “keep the fuck away!”

   While they waited, curiosity got the better of a couple of the men.

   “I have to ask,” one of them queried, “just how does one come into possession of such a lass?”

   Mallory laughed.

   “Let’s just say the spoils of war can be incredibly fruitful,” she smiled.

   “In my line of work, I manage to make numerous enemies,” she continued.  “Most of them never come out alive once they’ve crossed me.  Occasionally, however, they may have something I want, and it is better to keep them alive until I obtain what it is I’m after.  This little morsel just serves as bait for the Big Prize.”

   The men gazed at the lovely young blonde.

   “Well, you certainly have the prettiest ‘bait’ I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he continued.

   Samantha felt a little like bait, and a lot like eye candy.  The heat and humidity was drawing the moisture out of her body so rapidly that she was beginning to smell.  But it was also turning her t-shirt wet, and her pained nipples were poking into the front of it.

   Mallory smiled that wicked smile that Samantha had seen on many occasions.   She drew her large knife from the sheath tied at her waist.

   “It looks like she’s ruined another perfectly good shirt,” she spat with mock disdain.

   She walked over and made quick work of the offending garment, leaving the young teen exposed to the men.

   “There now,” she chided the helpless girl, “you just sit there and be thankful you’re not a bigger part of this exhibit.”

    By early afternoon, the concoction was ready, and several of the laborers strained the goo out of the vat, and onto large flat rocks to dry.  That part of the process went amazingly quick considering the high humidity levels.  Eventually there were numerous brick-shaped clumps, and from one of these clumps a native man shaved several slivers into a mortar and pestle arrangement.  These were ground into a fine dust, and Mallory took about a quarter-teaspoon,   and dumped it into a straw-like cylinder with an end which hinged shut.  She gave a cylinder to one of the native looking men, and spoke to him in Portuguese.  He nodded and along with another man, turned and headed back towards the river.

   “This is what we’ve been waiting for,” Mallory said. 

    She was playing it for all it was worth, and definitely had a flair for the dramatic.

   “I wouldn’t send you fine people off without giving the product a proper demonstration of its effectiveness.”

   There was a bit of a commotion, and a few minutes later the men returned, but they weren’t alone.  They had a stunning young girl with them, completely naked and very tightly bound and gagged, carried like a piece of luggage by one of her captors. She appeared to be very young, eighteen at the oldest, and was obviously in both a great deal of distress, and arousal at the same time.  She had a leather leash tied around her neck, which was in turn held by one of the men, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

   “I took the liberty of giving Alexandra here a portion of this same drug a good 15 minutes ago and a bit more just now,” Mallory smiled.  “She had the good fortune of being selected for this role by virtue of her father having tried to swindle me out of several million dollars while I was in Sao Paulo a few months back.  Suffice it to say he won’t try it again.”

   Alexandra was struggling fiercely against the grip the man had on her.  She was a slender, lanky lass with marvelous legs, and a shapely butt.  She had long dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a deep dark tan, with tiny triangles over her small breasts and shaved pubic area from a scant swimsuit.  The men were rather enjoying her struggles, and Mallory seemed content to let her perform in the presence of their guests.  Her wrists were crossed and bound behind her back with the same thin dark leather that Samantha had been bound with.  Her elbows were crushed together as well, thrusting her small breasts forward to the delight of the men.  A framework of the thin leather went above and below her breasts, and around her shoulders, fastening to the elbow cords in back.  Her slender ankles had been crossed and bound tightly, a trailing end looped through the convergence of cords at her elbows, and then those ankles had been jerked cruelly behind her and fastened.  The man holding her carried her by this ankles-to-elbows/chest harness cord, bowing her lovely body in a fashion that was as aesthetically pleasing for the guests as it was painful for Alexandra.   She was sweating from her exertions, and moaning through the tight ring gag, part of a harness gag, fastened deep between her teeth.

   “For whatever reason, the potion reacts slower with a woman, but as you will learn, not so slow with men,” Mallory smiled.

   Mallory nodded to the men who had delivered Alexandra to the camp.  The man holding her nonchalantly tossed her to the ground, where she landed with a thud that nearly knocked the wind from her lungs.  She flexed briefly, testing her bonds as if by some miracle the rude deposit of her body on the ground may have jarred a knot loose.  Mallory chuckled at this futile exploration, and grabbed a length of the thin leather from her pocket.

   “Our first order of duty is to see that this excitable little slut is incapable of stopping us from doing anything we wish to her lovely little body,” Mallory smirked, looping the doubled cord through a ring on the top of the harness gag, and passing the free ends of the cord through the loop.  She tugged Alexandra’s head sharply back, threaded the loose ends through the ankle ropes, and bent her neck back further.  At that point where Alexandra feared her neck might snap, Mallory tied it off, leaving the young girl totally helpless, and almost unable to move.  Mallory smiled, walking around the tightly bound girl as if to ascertain that she was truly as helpless as she appeared to be.  At last satisfied, she turned once again to address the group.

   “The next step is to provide her with a bit of stimulation,” Mallory grinned, grabbing another length of leather from her pocket.  She tied a loop in one end of the cord, passing it around over Alexandra’s back, before slipping the free end through the loop.  Mallory pulled harshly on the end, tugging it back and forth with sharp motions, drawing the slack out of the cord, and fixing it deep in the helpless girl’s belly.  She brought the end down between the girl’s parted thighs, keeping the whole thing taut, and then marked a spot on the leather with her finger.  For a moment the leather cord went slack, and Alexandra breathed a strained sigh of relief as Mallory fiddled with the cord.  The relief didn’t last.  Mallory finished what she was doing with the cord and reached between Alexandra’s legs.  Her fingers parted the young girl’s labia, slightly wet from the drug’s affect, and plucked at her clit.  It didn’t take but a moment for the flesh to respond, the clitoris emerging from its hood and rapidly hardening.  Alexandra moaned as her body was swept with pleasure, but then she wailed as the leather cord cut through her pubic mound.  Mallory ran the end up around Alexandra’s bound wrists and pulled.  HARD.  Alexandra could feel the woman’s fingers once again probing her genitals, and another jerk pulled a knot that had been tied in the cord right up close to her engorged clit.  Then the cord was tied off to her wrists, forcing Alexandra’s fingers into the crack of her butt.  Mallory tugged on those bound wrists, forcing the knot up tantalizingly close Alexandra’s clit.  The pain of the brutal crotch-rope was countered by the incredible buzzing flowing through Alexandra’s clitoris, and her body took over from there.  The cursed knot had the audacity to tickle her clit without the young girl being able to draw it any closer.  There was not a millimeter of slack.  Try as she might, and the aphrodisiac forced her to try mightily, there was no way to gain any bit of it along and over her sex.

   “Now we will watch and wait,” Mallory stated. 

   For the next 20 minutes or so, the group was treated to a rather remarkable athletic performance.  Alexandra was barely aware of the show she was putting on.  Instead, her mind was focused solely on bringing pleasure to herself.  But bringing pleasure to herself, bound as she was, proved impossible.  Being scarcely able to move was a big part of the problem, but the devious nature of her bondage proved the bigger obstacle. The knot Mallory tied in the crotch-strap could be pulled just to Alexandra’s inflamed clitoris if she used all her strength.  But it would go no further.  The young girl rolled over onto her side, the muscles in her arms and legs rippling in her attempts to tug and manipulate the cord to her satisfaction, then rolled back to her stomach, then to her other side.  Her long hair became matted with her sweat, as well as dirt and leaves from the jungle floor.  Eventually, her body covered with dirt and sweat, exhaustion set in.  Gradually her squirming slowed until at last she lay mostly still, her lovely bowed body quivering on the bare ground, the knotted crotch-rope still a paper’s width from where Alexandra wanted it.

   “As you all can see the young cunt’s craving for satisfaction was subdued only by the very tight restraint placed on her,” Mallory smiled.  “Imagine if she had not been nearly immobilized.  She could easily have hurt herself and then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of inflicting all of the things I plan on inflicting on her lovely body later tonight.”

    This last bit came with Mallory placing the toe of her boot under Alexandra’s chin, and turning her head slightly so as the full impact of her statement could be fully appreciated by the bound girl.

   “Nevertheless, I think you all can see that it’s a potent concoction,” Mallory said.

    There was a nodding from the men.  Sonja nodded to, but her gaze was once again the beautiful blonde secured to the tree nearby.

   “Good,” Mallory said.  “Now, we will soon have a quantity of this available for you to take.  Any of you who would like may stay.  Others of you may wish to make different arrangements, and that is fine.  But for now let’s all return to camp.”

To be continued………

  

     

 

     

  

  

  

  

  

  Heather and Kelly spent the day by the pool.  It had been a day that Heather planned on spending at the beach, but the opportunity to spend any portion of time at a place as luxurious as the one Luis owned was too difficult to pass up.   For Heather most of the day was spent nude sunbathing.  The utter privacy of the home allowed for that pastime to be done without worry of being seen.  Kelly liked the tan-lined look so she opted for the skimpiest of black bikinis. 

     Manuel and Luis had prior commitments that required them to be gone for the day, so it became a ‘girl’s day in’ so to speak.  As they lounged by the pool, Heather got to study her newfound friend more closely.  She had been able to tell the night before that Kelly was stunning, but now that her body was mostly exposed there was little doubt as to why.  The dark haired girl owed her stunning figure to her terrific conditioning.  She wasn’t overly muscular by any stretch.  It was just that there wasn’t much extra anywhere on her body.  Her arms and legs had nice definition, and her abs had the gentle rippling of a rigorous exercise routine.  She had lovely round breasts hidden behind the brief black bikini top.  Not so large as to keep one’s gaze from really noticing the other fantastic features of her physique, but a handful all the same.  Heather could feel a small stirring within that indicated if given the chance, she might well engage in some naked acrobatics with the dark haired girl.  The small talk eventually got around to business, and Kelly described the latest intel on Samantha’s whereabouts.  Heather listened intently as Kelly described in detail how they intended to get Heather into the area unobserved, and then several scenarios of how to get Samantha and Heather back out.  None of the plans were without serious consequences, but Kelly had assembled a team to assist Heather, and she had carefully selected some of F.I.T’s finest agents.  After a couple of hours, the plan had been dissected, hashed, and rehashed.  The girl’s agreed to sleep on the revisions, and they would talk again the following day.

   By late afternoon, both girls had tired of lying by the pool.  Heather decided to go for a jog and Kelly announced she would begin to work on something for dinner.  After dressing in her jogging outfit, Heather did a quick log-in on her laptop.  She typed in the password to her email account, and noticed she had a single email.  It was from Keri.

   “Hey gorgeous, hope your havin’ fun!  Miss that hot bod.  Keep us in the loop.”

   Heather smiled.

   She sent a brief message back saying all was well, and she would write more later.  She wasn’t really in the mood for a long reply at the time.  She logged off, and did some brief stretching exercises, then passed through the kitchen on her way out the door to the garage.

   Kelly had changed into some tight, rather sexy and stretchy white shorts, and a red, midriff-baring sleeveless t-shirt.  She was barefoot.  Heather admired her lovely tight ass for a moment as she was distracted by a recipe she was studying.

   “Be back in 45 or so,” Heather smiled.

   “See you then love,” Kelly joked, batting her eyes.

   Heather giggled, feeling that once again the F.I.T agency had scored with this hire.

   Heather exited into the garage, did one more toe touch, and started off.

   Kelly walked to the refrigerator to check on the availability of several items she needed.  She opened the door, took a quick inventory, closed the door, and turned into the muzzle of a Ruger .22, a wicked looking silencer on the end.

   It was held by a figure clad in black spandex, large but undoubtedly female.  A hat pulled down well over her brow partially obscured her eyes.

  “Don’t think of even thinking about making a move,” the woman hissed.

   Immediately behind her Kelly saw three more figure similarly clad.

   “Where is she?” the woman asked in slightly more than a whisper.

   “Who?” Kelly asked, stalling for time.  She knew her hopes depended on Heather not getting caught.

   “One more time, where is she?” this was more forceful.

   “I’m not sure,” Kelly lied.  “Maybe in the shower.”

   The women motioned to the others, and two of them immediately headed for the heart of the home.  She motioned to the remaining woman, who removed a thin black plastic zip tie from a band at her waist.

   “Turn around,” the woman motioned to Kelly.

   The dark haired beauty hesitated a moment, sizing up a rapidly deteriorating situation. How the hell had they gotten in, and where had they come from? It was quickly ascertained that not doing what they wanted probably wouldn’t bode well so she did as told.  Her hands were grabbed by the woman who had given the original command, and shortly thereafter she felt the thin plastic slipped around her upper arms.  She cried out in the next instant as her arms were drawn cruelly back, her elbows painfully crushed together by the thin plastic.  The excess was carefully snipped off.

   “Gag the slut,” came the command.

   Kelly felt a hand tangle itself in her hair, and her head was jerked back. In the next instant a sphere of hard rubber was pressed against her lips in front.  It was pressed so harshly she tasted blood as her teeth cut into the insides of her mouth.  Instinctively she opened her mouth before any real damage could be done.  The rubber seemed to have a life of its own, and immediately and angrily moved into the opening.  Kelly had to stretch her mouth even wider as it moved between her teeth.  She felt like the pictures she’d seen of a python that had tried to swallow some monstrous prey.  Finally the ball made it past her teeth, providing a bit of relief as it fell into place, its hard smooth texture now touching both the roof of her mouth and almost the entirety of her tongue.  She retched. Her long hair was held out of the way as fingers fumbled with the strap on the back of the gag.  It was tightened, and then tightened again.  It felt as if the rubber was trying to lodge itself against her tonsils.  The leather strap was passed through the buckle, and once again tightened, before at last being fastened in place.  It had no more been secured when the other two showed up from the useless search.

   “Nothing,” one of them blurted.

   “Fuck,” the first one hissed loudly.  “What the hell… our equipment told us she was in here, she couldn’t just disappear.”

   She paced the floor for a moment.

   “Damn, we’ve got to get,” she finally decided. “We can’t risk waiting.”

   She raised a hand-held radio to her mouth.

   “One minute sharp,” was the command.

   She looked quickly around, and then wordlessly motioned the group towards the front door.  Wrapping Kelly’s hair twice about her fist, she pulled the reluctant girl along.  Moments later there was a squeal of tires.  They opened the door, all piling out as a unit, and just as quickly entered the black limousine.  The doors slammed simultaneously, and captors and captive hastily exited.

   “Fucking incompetent boobs!!” Mallory hissed, slamming the screen of her laptop.  “Your damned whore of a sister has caused me more headaches than a busload of drunken sailors.”

   Mallory poured herself another glass of wine.  It was late afternoon.

   “The last thing I can afford is for a bunch of stinking F.I.T agents to come nosing around here after I’ve concocted this lucrative operation,” she continued.  “I managed to bring her in by myself once, and now a whole team of elite, trained operatives can’t even do the job.”

   Mallory gulped half of the glass.  She turned and looked at the two captives.

   “This shit makes me think the world is full of fools,” Mallory snarled. 

  Mallory was visibly angry, and Samantha knew that when she was angry, she tended to look for something to soothe her.  And somehow Samantha’s tongue always seemed to figure into the equation. She was also somewhat inebriated, Samantha noted.  And she noted that under the circumstances, she was the only one in a position to satisfy Mallory’s sexual needs.  At least for the time being.  It would have required more than a bit of doing to get Alexandra to perform the task at hand, even if Mallory had seen fit to give her the opportunity.  The blonde girl stole another glance at her fellow captive and winced.  Alexandra hung suspended, split apart in a position that had to be as humiliating as it was painful.  Her wrists had been tied together in front, and then a long trailing end was threaded through an iron ring pounded into one of the ceiling supports.  Her arms were pulled high over her head, and tied there.  Then her elbows had been fastened together, forcing her head forward so her chin was pressed against her chest.  The harness gag was gone, replaced with an oversized ball gag which caused the young girl to drool uncontrollably down her front.  Her legs had been drawn severely apart into a full split, each ankle looped with cord and tied to separate support poles, and pulled so tight it appeared she may well be ripped in two.  Those same legs bore numerous stripes across her thighs, and the marks continued over the helpless girl’s belly and breasts.  These marks had been delivered with a thin plastic switch.  The switch had a small eye screw threaded into the fat end, and attached to the eye screw was an alligator clip.  The switch hung from Alexandra’s left nipple by way of that clip, the sharp teeth biting into the sensitive, aroused flesh.  In this manner, the switch was most readily available, and Mallory had given the girl a couple of withering glances as her moans and whimpers became an irritant.   If this had been the extent of it, it would have been more than enough to evoke sympathy.  But Mallory had been feeling particularly devious and so she had gone just a bit further.  She seemed intent on testing the limits of the girl’s sanity.  Once again, Alexandra had been given a dose of the drug.  Her swollen, slick vulva indicated that she was now, and had been for some time, fully aroused, but that arousal would go completely unfulfilled.  Instead, it would be again teased relentlessly, this time with a battery powered vibrator poised and humming loudly mere centimeters from the flesh so desperate for its touch.  Mallory had looped cord around Alexandra’s waist, and attached it to the neck of a flex-head vibrator, carefully manipulating it upwards until it was just a fingers width away from her quivering flesh before tying it off.  Samantha silently wondered just exactly what atrocity Alexandra’s dad had committed to warrant this kind of treatment on the young girl. Alexandra was clenching her abdominal muscles, and her thigh muscles in the mistaken notion that she could create some force that would magically suck the device up tight to her and end the maddening torture.

   Samantha observed this all from her imposed kneeling position on the floor, and truth be told, it was wince-worthy as well.  Her arms had been forced into the dreadful prayer position behind her, strapped at wrists and elbows to keep them in a rigid, painful unit, and all the while thrusting her small beautiful breasts forward, the silver through her hard pierced nipples glistening in the light.  Her ankles were strapped tightly to her thighs, keeping her from even thinking about rising from her position.  Slumping wasn’t an option either, for a leather cord around her neck ran up over a roof support and was pulled tight enough to keep the tiny blonde’s attention.  She was completely naked.   She had hoped to avoid the increasingly frequent oral satisfaction demanded of her on this occasion, but she was now almost certain she would be called on to deliver.

   Mallory walked over to the suffering Alexandra and tormented her by briefly pressing the vibrating head against her exposed labia.  The young girl’s eyes shot open, and for a moment there was a groan of relief, but then Mallory laughed and released it, the device again falling to a width so near, yet for all intents and purposes, many miles away.

   “How long do you think she can endure this?” Mallory chuckled.

   Samantha clenched her eyes at the query apparently directed at her.  How the fuck would she know?  An hour?  Ten hours?  It wasn’t her field of expertise.

   “How long do you think you could endure?” Mallory smirked, obviously relishing the thought.

    Suddenly the thought of orally satisfying the bitch didn’t seem so laborious.

    “Somehow I don’t think a hot little slut like you could hold out so long,” Mallory smiled, walking over to pinch and stroke Samantha’s nipples.  They immediate hardened to the touch.

   “As I was saying…” Mallory nodded.  “I think we’ll have to give you a dose of this stuff.  It would suit me to see you so helplessly aroused.”

   Again Samantha clenched her eyes.  When she opened them, Mallory’s bald sex was practically in her face.

   She grabbed a hunk of Samantha’s hair, and shoved her the few inches necessary for her lips to make contact.

   “Get to work,” Mallory ordered.  “And make it last.”

   Heather increased her pace for the last quarter of a mile.  It was her way of saying ‘well done.’  She kept it up until her first step onto the driveway, and then coasted through the garage door.  She paced there for a moment, allowing her body a cool-down period, and then did some stretching exercises to work the kinks out.  When she finished, she went inside.

   “I’m home Gorgeous,” she hollered cheerily.

   Fully expecting Kelly to be well into dinner, she was puzzled that nothing seemed to be happening.

   “Kelly?” she hollered, making her way to the living room.

   Still nothing. 

   She checked the bathroom, thinking she may have showered, but it was apparent no one had recently used it. 

   Becoming alarmed, she went to her purse and retrieved her Millennium Model 9 MM handgun, and crept back to the kitchen.  There was no sign of Kelly.  She opened the refrigerator, and took an inventory.  There didn’t seem to be anything removed since her last trip.  It didn’t seem to be adding up.  A glint of something on the floor caught her eye, and she knelt to find a short length of black plastic.  She knew what it was.  She spun around, her 9MM ready if needed.  But there was no one to be seen.  She snuck back into the bedroom, and knelt on the floor, shoving her hand under the bed.  Her I-phone was still there.  She grabbed it, shoving it into the pocket of her running shorts.  She was torn between leaving immediately, and staying to try and piece more of the puzzle together.  Eventually her training instincts took over.  The first order of business is to distance yourself from immediate danger.  There would always be the opportunity to return after re-assessing things.  She ran to the bedroom and grabbed a small bag.  Into it she threw some clothes and her iPod.  She picked up her laptop, pushed the unique button at the side, then slid it back onto the dresser, and headed back out the garage door.  In the garage was a Bell & Ross Harley.  Heather breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the key in the ignition, and grabbed a helmet from a rack next to the back door.  Quickly giving a glance around the street, she slipped her bag over a handle-bar started the motorcycle and sped away.

   Kelly moaned into the foul gag strapped tightly in place, and shifted from one foot to the other.  She didn’t know where she was.  She had been blindfolded for the trip in the car, although the length of the trip had been short enough that she knew they were somewhere within the city.  Wherever she was, it was damp, and even somewhat cool, perhaps somewhere underground.  She shifted from foot to foot because a hook had been looped through the plastic holding her elbows together, and then raised until she had been forced up onto her toes.  The women who had taken her stood close by, but nothing was said.  After a few minutes some footsteps were heard coming down the hallway.  Kelly craned her neck towards the doorway, and gasped as the woman entered.  Anyone who had ever been through even novice training with the F.I.T organization had heard of the treacherous Selena Sczerbynski.  A Polish born woman, her legendary mean streak was matched only by her incredible beauty.  She made an impression wherever she went.  She was of medium height and weight, but that was where average ended.  By any standard she was stunningly beautiful.  Her black leather cat-suit, and high heeled boots made her more imposing, but her reputation carried more weight than any wardrobe could.  Her figure was the stuff of legend.  Much had been made of whether it was all hers, or if it had been given a “procedural enhancement” along the way.  What was known was that she was in her early 30’s, well educated, and came from Eastern bloc wealth.  Her portfolio from an early modeling assignment listed her measurements as 32DDD-19-34, and as a fitness freak it was safe to say these were probably still accurate.  Her hair was long and dark brown, falling to the middle of her back.  Her green eyes were penetrating; intimidating but intelligent, and seemed to relish any task that involved punishment, especially when that punishment was to be dealt to a lowly F.I.T operative.  The cat-suit itself was a sexy piece, tight-fitting, with a low plunging “U” cut in front that exposed the tops of her famous cleavage. It had an egg shaped cut-out in back, exposing most of her back.  It was long sleeved; even covering most of her hands, but ended at her knuckles, allowing her fingers to protrude through.  She wore a black leather collar with round stainless steel studs riveted every few inches, and carried a stiff leather crop in her hands, which she snapped menacingly against her palm.

   “So, instead of the infamous Ms. Duncan, we have to make do with you,” Selena said, slowly walking around the painfully tied girl.  “Magali, please be so kind as to remove this cunt’s gag.  I’m dying to hear what bits of info she wishes to share with us.”

   Kelly could hear the dripping sarcasm from her lips.  Magali, as she had been called, was a rugged girl who had been one of the kidnappers.  She quickly complied with the request, leaving Kelly to work her jaw, and lick her lips after the gag popped free.

   “Well, what do you have to say for yourself, slut!” Selena hissed.

   “Uhh, that this is all a mistake,” Kelly spat back.

   Selena laughed.

   “Oh my, a comic,” she chuckled, glancing at the other women, who all chuckled along with her.

   Selena opened a small pocket notebook she had hidden in a zipped pocket.

   “Kelly Patron, 22 years old, 5’5” 113 lbs.  Measurements 33C-23-32.  Activities include surfing, biking, tennis, and aerobics.  Initiated into agency six months ago.  Shall I go on…” Selena scolded.

   There was a moment of silence.

   “What do you want with me?” Kelly said, hoping her voice didn’t betray the rising fear she felt.

   Selena walked over to stand in front of her.  Her hands reached out and grabbed the helpless girl’s breasts, squeezing the firm flesh through the fabric of the brief shirt she was wearing. 

   “Spare these lovely melons the whipping I intend to lay on them by giving me some useful information,” Selena purred, her eyes growing heavy with obvious excitement.

   Kelly didn’t know whether the excitement was from groping her breasts, or from the thought of what she might do to them with her whip.

   “Never,” Kelly spat, “You won’t get shit from me.”

   “Oh really?” Selena hissed.  “Well, we’ll see.  But you know, I think I’ve changed my mind.  I really don’t want to waste my time whipping your tits, and other parts of your lovely body.”

   Selena was now rubbing the crotch area of Kelly’s shorts.

   “I think for now we’ll just give you some extra -tight, and painful bondage,” she continued.  “A little something to think about for the night.  In the morning there will be time for whipping your tits.  In fact, after a night tied as I intend to bind you, you may beg to have your tits whipped.  Strip her, and bring the thin cord, it hurts more.”

    Heather sat in the soccer stadium, oblivious to the roars going on around her.  It seemed strange to sit with thousands of people when she knew she was being sought, but there was a comfort knowing that it would be impossible for anyone to single her out in such a crowd.  She had stopped at a store to use the bathroom, changing her clothes from the jogging outfit into something more generic.  She wore a pair of faded blue denims, cowboy boots, and a white t-shirt.  One look in the mirror convinced her to purchase a lightweight jacket to cover her breasts, and a ball cap under which to tuck her blonde mane.  With a pair of sunglasses on, she doubted that even her closest friends would be able to recognize her from any distance.  The stadium gave her the necessary cover to think a bit.  She knew that she could do some small things to elude whoever was after her, but eventually she would need to get back on the plan to rescue her sister.  She took out her iPod and texted Keri.  It said simply “WTF.”  It didn’t take long for the reply.  “? Call” it said.

   Heather couldn’t call, at least not now.  And she was becoming concerned about the security of her communications anyway.  It seemed that the F.I.R.M folks were one step ahead of anything she did.  Someone of course had to be informed of Kelly’s apparent capture.  But by the same token, Heather had her own schedule to meet.  Now was not the time to take on another problem in a country she was unfamiliar with.  She would need to get someplace truly secure, and call from there.  But that presented a problem.  What was truly secure?  And how would she go about gaining access to it?  Everything seemed to be a jumbled mess, and the thought of rescuing her young sister seemed as remote a possibility before their intel had zeroed in on her location.

   “I hope you are comfortable,” Selena scowled, “because that’s how you will spend the rest of the night.”

   Kelly wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of seeing just how miserable she was.  But the words stuck her just like a jolt of thunder.  She saw no possible way she could endure the entire night like this. She could feel the textured concrete against her bare belly.

   “I’ve actually done you a bit of a favor,” she smirked, setting a decades old alarm clock down directly in front of Kelly.  “This will let you see just what time it is.  Of course, you will have no way of knowing when I am coming for you.  It might be early morning, or it might even be closer to noon.  One thing you can count on though, is that when I do come for you, it will be to whip those lovely tits,”

   The alarm clock was one of those that wound manually.  It had an incessant ticking that would become deafening in the cold concrete room.

   Selena knelt beside the nude tightly bound woman, flipping at the nasty clamps on her nipples. Calling the bondage brutal would have been selling the term brutal short.  Kelly clenched her eyes shut, attempting to hold perfectly still.

   “I’ll bet this one is a bitch,” Selena said, tugging up on the cord cleaving Kelly’s sex.

   She choked back the urge to scream.

   “Beg me for mercy and I might go easier on you,” Selena taunted the bound beauty.

   Selena looked at her as if it was a genuine request.

   “I’ll have my day you fucking cunt,” Kelly defiantly hissed through clenched teeth.

   That brought a cackle from Selena that was sinister enough to raise hairs on a few of the guards in their midst.

   “Very well then,” Selena smirked.  “If you aren’t going to beg we shouldn’t need to be bothered by your moans.  Let’s let her chew on the “jaw-breaker” for the night. “

   Selena stood straight and walked around to the front of Kelly.  Two of the guards were already applying the “jaw-breaker.” Kelly’s mouth shot open as her nipple clamps were pulled, and then her eyes widened when the foul rubber was pressed against her lips, forcing her teeth apart, and finally falling into the cavity behind those teeth.  The captive agent mewled as the horrid tasting obstruction completely filled her mouth.  The guards were now busy threading the leather tail through the buckle, and pulling it tight.

   “That’s not tight enough,” Selena chastised them.

   Immediately it was further tightened until Kelly feared it would permanently crease her cheeks where the leather cut in.  At last she felt them buckle it tight.

   If Kelly hadn’t felt totally helpless before, this last bit of savagery completely tipped the scales.  She knew the gag didn’t really matter.  Wherever she was, it was far from any sympathetic ears.  It was cold and damp, and the room itself echoed.  Nothing that happened here would be remotely noticed anywhere else.  It was a last emphatic statement on her condition.  She wasn’t a threat, and she certainly wasn’t going anywhere.   The muscles in her back, thighs and abdomen were already starting to ache in a fashion that Kelly felt would lead to cramping.  She strained to attempt to relieve the discomfort, but there was little she could do.  Her fingers barely fluttered.  Her wrists were tied at her waist by a cord connecting them in front.  They were held about a foot apart.  Her elbows were crushed together in back and this in turn caused her wrists to want to pull apart, but the thin cord prevented it, instead holding them tight against her belly.    A long cord had been tied to the center of this wrist tether.  It dove down her front below the belly, pulling her wrists even tighter towards one another and wedging them between her waist and the floor.   But it did much more than that.  It had been pulled so tight that it creased her belly as it descended, her flesh bulging on either side of it like bread dough rising around a wire obstruction.  It tore in angry fashion through her crotch, raking at her clitoris as it went, and emerged from between her butt cheeks.  Its journey was far from over however.  It shot upwards, curling over the cord that crushed her elbows together, and angled back towards her crossed and tightly bound ankles.  Once there, it looped about them before making the return trip back to her elbows.  Of course, that return trip was not made until every bit of slack that could be purchased, had been purchased, bending her body like a twig about to be snapped.  

   Selena knelt in front of her helpless captive, and tweaked the nipple clamps that bit relentlessly at her lovely tits.

   “You may think you’re protecting Agent Duncan, but you’re not.  You’re just delaying the inevitable.  We’ve infiltrated your security network on so many levels that it’s tough to figure out who of you is a valuable enough target to go to the trouble of taking.  You were just unfortunate enough to be in the way.  But now that we have you, I’d feel it almost a slight against the intelligence-gathering world to not interrogate you properly,” Selena smirked.

    Kelly clenched her eyes shut again.  She felt the Polish woman doing something with her toes, and suddenly there was tightness between them and the back of her gag.  What she couldn’t see was the length of twine that had been noosed over each of her big toes and fastened in taut fashion to the back of her gag, keeping Kelly from lowering her head.

   “That will help you to keep track of the time tonight,” Selena taunted the bound girl.  “Now, I need to get some rest.  We still have that small item of Agent Duncan to attend to tomorrow.”

   Heather left the stadium with the throng of people.  She passed with them out through the parking lot, at which point the crowd thinned.  All the while she kept her eyes peeled.  Was the man over to her left keeping pace with her?  Was the lady coughing, or actually talking into a cell phone?  Everything and everyone was suspicious. 

   She finally got to where her motorcycle was parked.  The crowd was non-existent now.  Heather cautiously straddled the cycle.  She quickly removed the ball cap, and just as quickly slipped the motorcycle helmet down over her head.  She started the bike, and directed it towards the entrance to the parking lot.  It was just as she was preparing to go through the gated entrance that she became aware of a vehicle moving rapidly along the street in front of the entrance.  It got to the entrance just before the blonde agent, slamming on its brakes not more than fifteen feet in front of her.  Heather spun the bike around, only to be confronted by two more vehicles that approached from within the parking lot.  She gunned the bike, narrowly slicing between the two vehicles, and there began a full- fledged race through the parking lot.  Unfortunately for Heather, the only way out of the lot appeared to be the entrance, and the car there seemed content to remain while the other two criss-crossed after the fleeing agent.  Because of her maneuverability, Heather was able to stay a safe distance from them, but she knew eventually they would get lucky unless she could figure some other way out.  Her eyes scanned the perimeter of the parking lot, but there was a chain link fence around it, and it didn’t appear to have any gaps in it.  After racing twice around the lot, Heather determined that her best bet would be to somehow attempt to get by the car at the main entrance.  If she could do that, she should be able to outrun them in the streets of Rio.  But her mind pondered how they seemed to be able to pinpoint her location.  Escaping them now would most likely mean she’d have to start another journey tomorrow.  Still, it was engrained in her to avoid capture at all costs.  She’d deal with security matters when she could find some measure of obscurity.

   Heather spun the bike around and headed back towards the entrance just as one of the vehicles crossed behind her.  There was something glinting in the dim light, and too late she realized her pursuers had flung a large amount of tire spikes in her path.  They were sharp little beasts with a round middle and 8 spikes coming off the center.  She first realized what they were when one bounded off the concrete, and tore a hole in her pant leg, nicking her flesh as it went.  She could feel blood running down her leg, but that became the least of her worries as a second later her front tire flattened.   She brought the motorcycle quickly under control, but realized her chances of eluding them on it had ended.  She dropped the bike and took off running, cursing the cowboy boots as she went.  Both cars closed in on her, screeching to a halt on either side of her.  Three women bolted from each car, closing in on her quickly and brandishing short clubs.  There was no time for evasive action, Heather instead met them head-on.  She flung her helmet off and knocked the first one cold with a punch directly on the nose, the woman hitting the concrete like a sack of potatoes.  A second one was disabled with a kick to the gut, knocking the wind form her lungs.  A spinning backhand stunned a third one, and Heather finished her off with a straight kick to her pubic bone.  She heard steps behind her and ducked just in time to miss a lethal blow to the back of her head.  Still, the blow caught her on the shoulder and sent pain shooting down her arm. She spun and delivered a roundhouse kick to the side of the jaw dropping the woman instantly.  A sharp blow from a club to her kidney’s nearly stunned Heather, and she bit back pain long enough to fend off the attacker with a flurry of front thrusts, followed by a spectacular upper cut to the chin.  She felt a surge of adrenaline as there was a crumbling of teeth.  The final woman missed wildly with her club, and Heather made her pay, breaking her arm with a lightening quick strike, and shattering her kneecap with a spot-on sidekick. 

   Heather looked at the moaning, struggling would-be antagonists.  Satisfied, shot a glance towards the gate.  The car was gone.  Puzzled, she did a quick 180, but it was nowhere to be seen.  She began to walk rapidly towards one of the still-running cars that her attackers had chased her in.  Heather opened the door, hopped in, and shifted into “Drive.”  Nothing happened.

   “Well, well, well—nicely done Agent Duncan,” a female voice spoke through the Bluetooth connection.  “I thought perhaps you could hold out for a few minutes, but you dispatched them in less than 3 minutes.  I commend you.”

   “Who are you?” Heather demanded. 

   “Just the local Chamber of Commerce here to welcome you to Rio,” came the reply.

   It was accented, but not of the local dialect.  Heather guessed it was Eastern bloc.

   “You could have saved us a lot of trouble by just staying at Luis’s.  Isn’t that his name?”

   “Where’s Kelly?” Heather demanded.

   “You’ll get to see her soon enough,” came the reply.  “Believe me, at the moment she is not the least bit concerned about you.”

   Heather once more tried the accelerator, but nothing happened.

   “You didn’t think I would let you just drive out of here did you?”

   “What do you want?” Heather demanded angrily.

   “You and I are going to have a little talk, Miss Duncan,” the woman replied.  “If you would look down for a moment, you will notice a laser bead right at your heart.”

   Heather glanced down to see it was true.

   “You will keep your hands right where they are on the steering wheel.  If you so much as wiggle a finger, the authorities will find a dead American in a deserted parking lot.  Understand?”

   Heather bit her lip.

    “UNDERSTAND!!” came the impatient voice.

   “OK OK,” Heather spat.  “I get it.”

   “Very well,” the woman spoke, her calm demeanor back in place.  “There is a car approaching on your left.  Once it stops, you will immediately and quickly walk to it and enter the back passenger side door.  You will sit in the seat, then turn and press your face against the window, and extend your arms behind you.  If you fail to do any of these things, it will be the last failure of your lifetime.”

   There was a silence.

   “Any questions?”

   Heather had some retorts in mind but thought better of it.

   “Good.  I’ll look forward to meeting you Miss Duncan.”

  

To be continued…

    Samantha Duncan had felt something.  In the jungle, feeling something in the middle of the night usually wasn’t a good thing.  But this seemed somehow different. 

   She stirred what little she could.  As usual, she was restrained for the night.  Her movement caused the restraining leather to creak in response.  Her arms tingled inside the single-glove, the soft, supple accessory clinging to her arms like a second skin.  Samantha could feel moisture on her arms, which had formed inside the leather as a result of her arms being one solid unit from the mid-point between her elbows and shoulders, to her cramped, gathered fingers crammed uselessly between her ass cheeks.  Their confinement there was not voluntary.  It was enforced, courtesy of a strap which ran from a ring at the tip of the single glove, to a belt buckled around her slender waist.  Fortunately, this strap had not been applied as punishment.  Not that it was comfortable, but she had easily learned to know when the hated “cunt-cutter” was being administered as punishment.  Actually, there was not much of a learning curve.  Quite simply, if her mind could entertain a rational thought about anything other than what was slicing though her loins, it was not serving as punishment.  But the strap had a purpose.  It held inside of her two devices, the first a 4” long vibrating plug which had been threaded onto the leather strap, then inserted into place inside her rectum.  The second was much larger, at least six inches in length, and now filled the poor girls’ vagina.  It too had been threaded first onto the leather strap before being inserted.  Then the leather had been fastened to a buckle on another strap secured around her waist.  Then her ankles had been strapped tightly to her thighs, and the devices turned on to their highest settings.  That had been hours ago.  For a time, Samantha had resisted the pleasure being forced upon her, but the futility of that soon forced her to reconsider, and at last she allowed the pleasure to consume her.  But the batteries had long ago gone dead.  Samantha’s exhausted body had been quiet for hours, covered with the sticky residue of her own pleasure, and the sweat that had been produced earning it.  She had been left alone in one of the small rooms that Mallory used to store some of her personal effects, ignored for the time being while Mallory and Alexandra disappeared.  Since the vibrations grew silent, Samantha had attempted to get some sleep, and successfully to some degree.  Then there had been a draft, it seemed.  At first she had assumed it was Mallory returning, and that she would expect to be royally treated for the “gift” of pleasure she had so graciously bestowed on the blonde teen.  But there had been only that draft of cooler air on her weary, naked body.   Samantha rolled onto her side and strained her ears.  There was a noise.  She scissored her doubled legs in an attempt to move back from the door.  Suddenly there was a bright light.  It came in a narrow beam from a source about half the width of her little fingernail, but it packed a lot of light with it.  Samantha whimpered through her gag in hopes that whoever it was had come looking for her.  The light shifted down the length of her body, as if to examine exactly how she was restrained, and then it came closer.  She felt some fingers fumbling with the leather straps holding her legs, and gave a sigh of relief as the one holding her left leg folded tightly came free.  She straightened it, moaning with exhilaration at the returning circulation.  The action was repeated on her right leg, and again her sigh of relief was audible.  She shifted her body so they could better access her arms.  She squealed into the gag as she was jerked to her feet by the hair.  Words were spoken in what Samantha recognized as a local native dialect, but she understood none of it.  The hand continued to hold her hair as another set of hands wrapped some type of wide padded band around and over her ball gagged mouth, reinforcing its effectiveness.  It was wrapped a half dozen times or so and fastened in place.  Two long leather cords were looped over her neck, and tightened, one held by a man in front, and one from the rear.  More words were spoken, and then a sharp slap to her naked butt signaled that they wanted her to move.  Her legs were unsteady, but the leashes around her neck drew tight, and with figures both in front and behind, Samantha was led out of the room and into the dark jungle night. 

   The pace was brisk.  The young blonde ran clumsily without the use of her arms, and with her breathing stifled she was forced to gather all the air she needed through her nose.  In spite of everything, Samantha marveled at how there was little noise.  After several minutes they reached the shore of the river.  There were a number of canoes there, pulled ashore and crudely hidden.  The moon was out, and Samantha could make out that there several men, most of them small in stature.  In fact, most of them were shorter than she was.  They were dressed in native garb, which meant they wore very little.  One of the men barked a command which sent several of the others scurrying to fetch a canoe.  While this was being done the two men holding her leashes entertained themselves with the young blonde’s body, rubbing her nipples and tugging on the rings piercing them.  The man behind her slid his hand between her legs, feeling the strap bisecting her plump mound.  He laughed and said something in his native tongue as his fingers discovered the devices buried within Samantha’s sex.  Their exploration of her helpless body was far too short for their purposes, as the men soon had the canoe ready for travel.  Samantha stepped into the canoe at the prodding of the men.  She was forced to the bottom of the canoe, and the man holding the leash from her front looped it about her thighs.  He pulled the slack out, forcing her chest down against her thighs, then bound them tightly, keeping her chest pressed against the tops of her thighs.  The second leash, the one held by the man behind her, was run down her back.   They lay her on her side and crossed her ankles.  While one of the men pushed her ankles up against her butt, the other bound them tightly there.  When the man released her ankles, they sprang away from her butt, at the same time tightening the rope around her neck.  Samantha knew that any amount of struggling would jeopardize her ability to breathe, so she lay as still as possible, her small tightly bound form silently enduring this terrifying journey.

   Heather hung miserable and silent in a cool, damp room.  Her wrists and arms had long ago gone numb.  Her legs fortunately, were in great condition.  She pushed herself up on tiptoe once again to relieve the pain and discomfort in her wrists.  There had been no conversation as to how long she would have to stay like this, and no-one had come to check on her.  Her neck was sore from having to look down, but the blindfold she wore prevented her from seeing anything.  Her wrists had been fastened together in front with a plastic zip-tie, which in turn was fastened to a shackle at the end of a hydraulic wench.  This had been raised until Heather was on her toes.  Her elbows were fastened together behind her head with another tie.  She was thankful she still wore the lightweight jacket as it afforded her arms a bit of protection against the sharp plastic.  Her mouth was gagged with a thick, hard, rubber-coated length of wood, pulled tight enough to be painful.  It didn’t keep her completely quiet, but what was the point?  Heather decided the risk of further irritating her captors wasn’t worth taking.  Besides, in light of all that had transpired, she was rather certain they had not overlooked the fact that she could make some amount of noise.  She wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of knowing she was suffering.  Her legs were spread and fastened to the ends of a bar.  The bar was about three feet long, and that rather moderate spreading of her legs would have been quite tolerable had it not been for the fact that she had spent most of the time on her toes.  It was a cruel, strenuous bondage.  She could stay on her toes and give her arms some relief, all the while stressing her calf and thigh muscles.  Or she could just barely touch the floor with the three-and-a-half inch heels of her boots, transferring the strain to her arms and shoulders. 

   After what seemed like an eternity, there were footsteps.  Heather could tell there were four of them.

   “Remove the blindfold,” said the voice Heather recognized from the car phone.

   She felt a fumbling at the back of her head, and the padded leather blindfold came free.  She shook her head a bit, and with difficulty raised her head.

   “Agent Duncan,” the woman hissed.  “I’ve heard so much about you.”

   Heather’s eyes widened.  She knew instantly who this was.  Every F.I.T agent had been versed on Selena.  The blonde agent found her to be even more beautiful in person than the intelligence photos.  She had been rumored to be back in her old haunts of Eastern Europe.  Heather had been told that she was even more deadly than she was beautiful, and she was stunning.   Besides her legendary figure, Selena was known for her interesting tastes in clothing, and a fondness for interrogating and indulging in the pleasures of beautiful women.  On the clothing front, she didn’t disappoint.  Heather hoped to avoid an opinion on the second point.  The fact that she was even in Brazil didn’t bode well though.

   Selena had dark hair that fell to the middle of her back, and dark brown eyes that seemed pleasant until one looked a little closer.  Then a dark intelligence began to emerge, and along with that a wickedness that could be almost debilitating.  Heather wondered how many agents had been so unfortunate as to endure her wraith.

   The three women with her all wore designer style paramilitary garb.  It was dark and tight, but cut so as to show the sleek feminine muscularity beneath it.  They also wore platform military boots that laced up to just below the knees, and all of them carried semi-auto weaponry of varying sorts.

   Selena was dressed in a leather cat-suit from head to toe. In one hand she held a black leather switch, and in her other hand she held a pair of heavy duty emergency shears.

   “Sorry for the discomfort imposed on you, but after that display in the parking lot we decided not to take any chances,” Selena smiled, pacing around the bound agent as she spoke.

   Heather worked her jaws trying to alleviate the pain.

   “Kinga, remove her gag,” Selena ordered one of the girls.

   A muscular looking Brazilian woman came forward and relieved Heather of the gag.

   “Do you have any idea why we have taken you?” Selena smiled.

   “You wanted a fifth for tomorrow’s tee time?” Heather quipped.

    That brought some good laughter.

   “I had heard you were clever,” Selena smirked.  “But no, that wasn’t what we had in mind.  You see, our plan is to save you some trouble and expense.  You are after the ones who’ve kidnapped your little sister.  We just plan on taking you to them.”

   Heather ran her tongue over her dry mouth, not sure if she heard it all correctly.

   “Did I miss your thank you?” Selena smirked.

   “Obviously I mistook that welcoming party in the parking lot for something more sinister,” Heather spat.

   “I didn’t say it would be a vacation cruise,” Selena hissed.

   A signal on her cell phone indicated she had a text message.  After studying it for a few moments, Selena slipped it back in the small pocket holder strapped to her thigh.

   “Well, it seems I have some bad news and some worse news,” she smiled.  “The bad news is that young Samantha has disappeared.  The worse news is that for now you are to remain with us until the situation is resolved.”

   Heather was caught off guard.

   “What the hell do you mean she’s disappeared?” she asked incredulous.  “You mean they’ve taken her somewhere?”

   “No, it means they don’t know where the hell she is,” Selena spat back.  “I’m pretty sure there is a rational explanation for it.  But for now, we are going to keep you away from there.”

   “If she is found anything less than completely intact, and this is no idle threat, I will personally enjoy the misery I shall inflict as retribution,” Heather seethed.

   “You know,” Selena hissed, coming up close to look into Heather’s face, “I would be careful issuing threats, all things considered.”

   The blonde agent was just barely containing another verbal assault.

   “Whatever ills may befall sweet little Samantha, I doubt you will be much in the mood, and certainly won’t be in any position, to exact ANY measure of revenge,” Selena spat, once again moving back slightly from the bound woman.   “Of course that’s all irrelevant for the time being.  And speaking of retribution, there’s a few of our recruits who’d like to get another crack at you once they’ve licked their wounds a bit.”

   “Ahh yes,” Heather sneered.  “Cut me loose and I’ll finish the job for good.”

   “Well now,” perhaps I might,” Selena retorted.  “And this time, maybe I’ll bring in some of our male personnel.  They would certainly enjoy being rewarded the spoils of victory.”

   Heather could see this was going nowhere.

   “On to more current matters,” Selena said, her tone softening a bit.  “I’ve heard so much about your beauty, and certainly at first glance I’m not disappointed.  But I think a more informed opinion could be garnered with some modest alterations to your attire.”

   She opened and closed the emergency shears as she spoke.  The shears were stainless steel with a blunt tip designed to cut through clothing or seat belts in the event of an emergency.  They were designed to do quick work.  Selena knelt beside the restrained blonde, and slipped the edge under the bottom of Heather’s right pant leg, between the cowboy boots and the denim, and began cutting upwards.  In a matter of moments she reached the top.  She had to pause to remove the brown leather belt, then finished the job with a final snip.  The denim peeled away, revealing the blonde girls lovely tanned skin, her muscular legs quivering slightly as they flexed to relieve the strain on her arms.  The same approach on the left leg removed the pants entirely, leaving Heather in only her white briefs.

   Selena stood back a bit, as if to take inventory on what she had just revealed.  She nodded in approval, before returning to the task at hand.  The jacket took some doing.  The sleeves were cut down to the elbows where the tight plastic holding the joints together prevented further destruction.  Instead, the sleeves were cut away and the remainder tugged through the plastic, where it could then be cut off.  Soon it too had been reduced to worthless strips of fabric.  The plain white t-shirt stood no chance, melting away like butter against a hot knife, exposing the white sports bra Heather wore when she ran.

   “You’re being very quiet Agent Duncan,” Selena chuckled.  “Is being stripped against your will something you secretly relish?”

   “Secretly?”  Heather retorted.  “No, I’ve always made known my desire to be stripped in the presence of whores.”

   She regretted saying it almost immediately, but then again her tongue had a way of doing that.

      “Kinga, make a note to whip Agent Duncan’s tits tonight,” Selena hissed.  “And if she utters a single whimper, whip them double.”

   Heather cursed herself silently.  It just didn’t pay to be so defiant.  Still, she took a measure of satisfaction in knowing that she had gotten under Selena’s skin.

   Selena roughly grabbed the front of the of the sports bra, and with a snip at its center and two more at the shoulders she released Heather’s large breasts from confinement.  They bobbed on her chest for a moment then held still, their firmness even more pronounced with her arms restrained as they were.

   “You know, Agent Duncan, that anyone can be broken,” Selena spat, staring into Heather’s eyes.  “I will thoroughly enjoy your company over the next few days.  Unfortunately for you, I don’t think you will receive the same measure of enjoyment.”

   Her hand grabbed the waistband of the briefs pulled it taut, and snipped through the material.  She tugged it free, and threw the ruined fabric to the floor.  Except for her high-heeled cowboy boots, Heather was now without a stitch.  Furthermore, with her legs spread and fastened to the bar, she was an open invitation to Selena, and Selena was not one to ignore such invitations.  Her fingers expertly parted the crease, already partially parted by the spreading of her legs, painfully pinching the lips of her labia.  She moved her face up close to Heather.

   “I’ve heard that this is your weakness,” Selena whispered.  “Everyone has one, no shame in that, but it’s too bad that this is yours.”

   Heather bit down on her tongue.  It was a defensive response to try and fend off what Selena’s expert fingers were accomplishing.  It was failing, as Heather could already feel the sensitive flesh beginning to swell.  Selena’s fingers slipped deeper inside, her middle finger stroking Heather’s clit, and the blonde agent could feel a bit of her natural lubrication making the job both easier and more pleasant.

   “It looks like the rumors are true,” Selena smirked.

    Heather clenched her eyes shut.  Of course they were true.  She had to have the most sensitive vagina in the western hemisphere.

   As quickly as she started, Selena quit, withdrawing her fingers.  She brought them up in front of Heather’s nose, wiping the light coating of moisture across the blonde agent’s lips.

   “We mustn’t get ahead of ourselves,” she whispered.  “There’s always time for pain and pleasure.  But we shouldn’t lose sight of the big picture.”

   Selena turned to the commando’s standing nearby.

   “Let’s cut her down and take her below to level three,” Selena ordered.  “And if she makes even the slightest move to resist, shoot her in the kneecap.  We’ll not have another exhibition as before.”

   Heather sighed with relief as the guards, eager to comply, lowered the wench holding her arms aloft.  She was far too exhausted to resist, even if she had wanted to.  If these women were actually going to take her to Samantha, she would let it be done, even if it meant going as their captive.  She just hoped there would be some sort of news on Samantha’s whereabouts, and soon.

   Samantha had no inkling whether it was day or night.  A short time after they had begun their trip down the river, one of the men had slipped a tight leather hood over her head cutting off anything she might have been able to see.  It’s amazing that something as simple as the loss of one’s sight can distort time so dramatically as well.  The young blonde girl had no idea if their trip had lasted one hour or four.  But eventually she heard the canoe grind against the bottom, and she knew they had made landfall.  The cords keeping her still on the bottom of the canoe were removed, and she was once again taken from the canoe and hustled some distance from the river.

   While there were a number of men with the abduction party, there were two who seemed to be their leaders.  It was at their command that Samantha was led deep into the forest, and finally into some kind of structure.  And it was there that the two of them dismissed the remainder of the men.  The two of them were called Leo and Gup.  Those were the names given to them by the white men.  They were not their native names.  Leo was called that because he liked to roar, and those that heard him thought he sounded like a lion.  Gup was so named because his bug-eyed nature made him look like a guppy. 

   Leo had never been particularly attracted to white women.  He had always thought them too whiny and needy.  He preferred the women of the Yanamamo who could do the work needed to be done in the jungle.  But as the two men went to work on the young blonde, his body began to betray him.

   They had been given details.  Strict details.  But they could not be adhered to without a considerable amount of handling their captive.  The first order of business was to remove the leather single glove and long since expired vibrating plugs.  Samantha could be heard to expel with a sigh of relief as the irritating invaders popped free.  She was no threat to flee, even with her limbs now free, but Gup held one of her arms just in case.  Leo grabbed a pile of neatly coiled leather of various lengths, all meticulously wrapped to keep them from becoming a tangled mess.  He picked one of medium length, pulled the fastening hitch free, and shook out the 20 foot length of thin, dark leather.  He doubled it, then motioned for Gup to hold the girl’s hands, palms together, high on her back.  He ran the length around the wrists, passing the free ends through the looped end and tugged it tight.  A quick cinch tightened it even more and was knotted off.  There remained two long trailing ends which went up from the wrists, one passing over the right shoulder, and the other the left.  They were passed under the armpit, around the back, and back over the opposite shoulder.  They were looped through the wrist cinch, tugged on until the wrists were raised even more, and tied off with accessible knots.  They would need to be accessible for what was to come, but for now the arrangement held Samantha’s hands well up between her shoulder blades.  Another of the length of thin leather went around her upper arms, just above her breasts, anchoring the arms more securely to her body.  Yet another long doubled length went around her arms midway between her shoulders and her elbows.  This one did not encircle her body, just her bent arms. As Gup pressed Samantha’s arms together, Leo tightened the cord, ignoring the bleats and squeals coming from under the hood.  The ends were passed up and over the cord anchoring her arms to her upper body.  They were separated and brought down and once again passed about the blonde girls arms.  Again Gup pressed the arms together as Leo worked all the slack he could out of the leather cord.  When at last they were done, Samantha’s arms were very tightly and painfully secured from her wrists all the way down to her elbows in a reverse prayer that put the others she had endured to shame.  A few short weeks ago Samantha would never have dreamed a girl’s arms could be bent like this.  The knots on her wrists were undone, and the recently obtained slack was removed, before the knots were again re-fastened.  Samantha’s fingers were tangled in her hair against the back of her scalp.

    This thorough rope-work required that the tiny blonde be turned this way and that to accommodate the tight cord.  Inevitable in all this was the contact between Samantha’s body, and the hands binding it.  At first it was a matter of doing the job right. But as it evolved Leo began to seek out the contact.  His hands lingered a bit longer as they passed by her breasts, enjoying the way the hard nipples felt as they brushed against his hands.  He liked the feel of her platinum hair where it cascaded out from the leather hood, and how the thin cord bit into the sweat-soaked skin.  He grunted at Gup, who grabbed the blonde girl’s ankles and crossed them one over the other.  There were more muffled whimpers from behind the hood as the Samantha realized they weren’t yet done.  The ankles were bound very tight as they were held, and Leo made certain to have enough cord left over for the final touch.  Leo positioned himself on the ground with Samantha on her belly and pointed away from him.  He slid himself under the blonde girl’s thighs so her legs were raised slightly, and bent upwards from the knee, her crossed and bound ankles right in front of his nose.   He handed the length of leather extending off Samantha’s ankles to Gup, who took the free end up and around the cords anchoring the wrists up between her shoulder blades.  He brought the ends back, handing them once again to Leo, who grumbled additional instructions to his sidekick.  As Leo began to pull on the cord it was Gup’s responsibility to see that there was no slippage.  He accomplished this by straddling the helpless girl, grabbing the cord where it came off her ankles, and pulling on it in tandem with Leo.  In short order Samantha was bent back at a painful angle, her ankles curled up over her back and her spine arched on a begrudging path towards her wriggling toes.  While Gup seemed intent on just doing his job, Leo was aware of the subtleties their actions were having on their young captive.  Fear, coupled with the stringent position being forced upon her, was adding to sheen of sweat covering her petite form.  Leo liked the way her wet flesh felt as her thighs rubbed against his arms.  And as they pulled, those thighs necessarily parted to relieve the strain of being bound as she was.  And as the thighs spread, her puffy vulva pulled apart exposing the pink labia beneath, still wet from her earlier stimulation.  Leo gave one last tug, drawing a muted squeal from their captive, before grunting a command to Gup.  His comrade grabbed the cord pinioning her arms to her body and at the same time reached back to grab the slender ankles, and pulled each towards the other.  As he did, Leo pulled out the remaining slack until the poor girl thought surely she would break in two.  As Gup held tight, Leo tied the arrangement off leaving Samantha completely helpless. 

   Leo smiled and motioned towards the teen’s all-too-available sex.  They had bound her so severely that her thighs were pulled off of Leo’s lap in the process.  He slid forward until he was once again rubbing against her bald sex, reaching his hands around to squeeze her nipples.  He felt himself stiffening against his loincloth, his erection achingly speared into the fabric separating him from the young blonde.  Leo gripped her breasts, pulling her back onto him, and pressing himself against her.

   Suddenly there was the sound of a round being chambered.  In their native tongue, a woman’s voice thanked them, but firmly told them to go.  The woman knew their customs.  It was a nice way of saying “if you touch one more hair on Samantha’s body it will be the last hair you touch.”  It allowed Gup and Leo to leave with their pride intact.  They had been properly thanked, they had been paid for a job well done, and they would be called upon later if needed.  Leo smiled and nodded, slipping both himself and his raging erection out from underneath the now seriously hogtied blonde.  There was a whimpering from behind the gag as the action caused the tightly bound girl to rock awkwardly on her belly.  With a wave of the hand, the two men were dismissed.

   Samantha felt a pair of hands at the strings which held the leather hood snug about her head.  A few seconds later it was removed.  Her lovely grey eyes squinted against the new light, and the sweat which coated her hair and forehead, and ran into those lovely eyes in a stinging stream.

   “Remember me?” she heard, it was a woman’s voice.

   It sounded familiar, but her eyes were still watering so much Samantha couldn’t quite make out who it might be.   She saw a blurred hand stretch out to her, a bit of soft cloth dabbing at the watery eyes.  She cringed.  It was the woman from the camp.  The one named Sonja who had touched her as she sat helplessly bound in Mallory’s hut.  Like before, Sonja’s eyes seemed to take her all in, as if she was seeing some fabulous art piece for the first time.  Samantha’s head dropped.

   “Look at me!” Sonja snapped.

   Samantha’s head still sagged.

   “Look at me or I’ll tie your gag to your toes,” Sonja hissed.

   Samantha didn’t want any more torments so she once again raised her head.

   “That’s better,” Sonja smiled, kneeling in front of the frightened teen. 

   She reached out and played with the small hard nipples raised free of the floor in the brutal hogtie.

   “I had to be frugal with my affections before,” she whispered.  “But no more.”

  She spun the lovely girl onto her side, and ran her finger through the valley between the lips of her labia, before rolling her back onto her belly.  She was so severely tied that the arch of her body never changed, despite being turned to and fro.  Sonja liked the fact that Samantha’s body was so tiny and light as to make handling it no chore at all.  She rolled the helpless teen to her other side, and once again played with her tits, tugging on the shiny silver rings piercing her nipples. 

   “From the time I saw you, you never had a chance,” Sonja smiled.  “So much beauty in so much distress, it was mesmerizing.  All my life I’ve done stuff for my family.  I finally said ‘enough, I’m doing something for myself.’”

   Samantha’s eyes were clearing now.  She was once again in some type of hut, in a small room but furnished with enough to seat a half dozen or so if needed.  She lay on the floor on a rough reed mat.  The only light was from a handful of candles burning around the room.  

   “I knew then and there I wanted you,” Sonja went on.  “And then I saw the amazing display of what the drug did to that poor girl…” her sentence dropped off.  “It was the most arousing thing I’ve ever seen.”

   Samantha was cramping up.  Her arms were bent into an impossible position behind her, her own fingers tangled in her wet hair.  Her ankles were bound, and then wrenched into an equally trying position that kept her painfully arched.  And now she had to hear a brief history of why she was here, in front of yet another psychotic sadist, who seemed to have a need for describing how they had all arrived at this point.  It was not a point worthy of discussion.  It was as if she was talking to a shrink.  If the girl wanted discourse, Samantha would be happy to explain that this kind of behavior was deviant and criminal, charge her twenty bucks, and be done with it. 

   “So,” she continued, “you get to be my lucky subject.  And I can’t wait to get started.”

  

  

    Heather bit down hard on her gag as the plastic once again striped her tits.

   “Seven,”  Kinga said as casually as if she were counting coins for correct change.

   Heather’s tits were on fire.

   Another loud smack, this one managing to land directly across both nipples.

   “Eight,” Kinga’s voice again resonated.

   Of course, there was nothing the naked blonde agent could do to stop it.  In fact, her breasts stuck out in a fashion that seemed to mock their assailant, almost daring the plastic switch to make the next blow more severe.  And if the only torment to be endured was to be her striped breasts, she probably could have done so without too much fanfare.   But that wasn’t what brought tears to the eyes of the helpless agent.

   After being stripped and brought via elevator to “level three,” Heather was escorted into a small but well lit room.  The room was bare, except for an odd piece mounted in its center.  It was a stout metal post about five feet in height, mounted securely to the floor.  There was a ring at the top of the post, and another about a foot and a half from the top.  Near the base of the post a steel bar had been mounted that ran perpendicular to it.  The bar was about three feet long with leather straps riveted to the ends.  Jutting out from the center of the post was a triangular piece of metal about four feet long.  It appeared to be attached to some type of ratcheting device built into the center of the main post.  Further up was a “T-shaped bar sticking out the same direction as the triangular piece, and it too appeared to be adjustable.

   “Agent Duncan, I hope you have a very high pain tolerance,” Selena said, with enough of a sarcastic bent to make Heather’s skin crawl.  “You’re going to need it.”

   Heather didn’t doubt that.  She had a bad feeling, but still she wasn’t going to let on that this was anything other than standard fare for a rival agent.

   “Kinga, before Miss Duncan goes for a ride, I don’t believe we’ve properly ascertained the absence of weaponry,” Selena sneered.

   Kinga smiled and nodded.

   “Would you please do us the honor?” she continued.  “Agent Duncan has a reputation of being quite the escape artist.”

   “What the fuck,” Heather thought.  She was stripped nude.  How the hell could she be hiding anything?

   “Agent Duncan, you will place both hands atop your head, and spread your legs,” Selena hissed.  “If you fail to immediately follow an order, you will be whipped.  And if you still do not comply, Kobe will be glad to administer her stun gun.”

   Kobe was another tall, muscular type girl of which Selena had seemed to have no shortage of.  She held up her weapon, demonstrating it by activating the metal prongs, the sparks dancing noisily between the two spikes.  Heather knew this was a charade.  She was fuming inside, but she had no chance of fighting her way out of this mess.  With a sigh, she placed both hands atop her head, and spread her legs shoulder width apart.

   “WIDER,” Selena shouted, her booted foot kicking Heather’s left leg.

   The kick hurt.  It probably hurt her pride more than it hurt her leg, but she bit her tongue and complied.

   Kinga slipped on a pair of latex gloves, poured a small amount of lubricant on them, and knelt in front of the naked agent.  Her fingers parted the crease in the center of her puffy vulva, working their way up to her labia, and then carefully separating those apart as well.  Two fingers were slipped well up inside, and then in a slow deliberate fashion, they probed all the way around until they had come full circle, then they were removed.  Kinga stood and indicated to Selena that it had passed inspection.  Kinga walked around behind Heather  and ran her hands down between the firm cheeks of the blonde woman’s ass until she reached the opening of her anus.  Heather glared her disdain at Selena as Kinga’s finger slipped inside.  It was a sensation that repulsed the shamed agent.  But she held still as the finger probed well up inside before being removed.

   “All clear,” Kinga said.

   “Ah yes, but let’s make certain Miss Duncan isn’t hiding anything behind her pretty teeth shall we?” Selena smiled, knowing the embarrassment this would cause after just having her other orifices probed by these same fingers.

    Heather tried not to retch as Kinga’s fingers lifted her tongue, and slid around between her jaws and her teeth.  At last she was done, removing her gloves, and tossing them in a nearby receptacle.

    “Thank you Kinga,” Selena said, once again standing in close to Heather.

    Her hand came forward to stroke at the closely cropped “V” of hair just above Heather’s pubic region.

   “As you may know, we don’t allow slaves to have pubic hair while in our company,” Selena hissed.  “It can carry so many unwanted hosts.  So tomorrow you will no longer be allowed it.”

   She walked a few steps away.

   “But by tomorrow you won’t likely care,” Selena grinned.  “You will have so many other things concerning you that having your cute little pussy shaved may actually provide you a bit of respite from an otherwise miserable ordeal.”

   Selena walked over to a nearby table and grabbed several items.

   “I think we’ll start with this harness gag,” she smiled handing the metal and leather contraption to Kinga.  “And I’ve got to believe this plastic coated wire will look fantastic imbedded in her lovely skin.”

   The black plastic wire was thin.  Very thin.  Heather cringed at the thought of being bound with it.

   The girl named Kobe held the stun gun pressed against Heather’s belly as a precaution while Kinga and the other girl set about binding and gagging her. The harness gag was a well engineered piece of leather straps and buckles, connected with stainless steel rings, and housing a three and a half inch ball.  Kinga used her considerable strength to make certain each and every buckle was tightened to the fullest, cramming the ball in deep with one hand, and tightening the corresponding strap with the other.

   As this was going on the remaining girl was busy binding the agent’s elbows and wrists with the thin plastic coated wire.

   “Don’t overdo it,” Selena had instructed.  “The less you use the more it stings.  Besides, she can’t cut through the wire.  Just make certain it’s tight.” 

   That last part probably wasn’t necessary.  But the advice was adhered to just the same.  Heather tried to remain stoic as the wire was wrapped twice around her arms just above the elbows.  It was pulled as tight as the girl could make it, and then the ends were cinched through the middle, crushing the elbow joints painfully together.   Likewise, the wrists saw two wraps, ends cinched, and almost immediately Heather’s arms went numb.

   Selena motioned for them to continue.  Heather began to get a sinking feeling as they shoved her over to the contraption mounted in the floor.  They spun her around so her back was to the main post, her legs straddling the triangular shaped metal.  Heather’s ankles were strapped to each end of the bar at the base of the post.  It kept her legs spread, but not uncomfortably so.  When her arms were grabbed from behind and jerked upwards, Heather winced.  They were fastened to the ring at the top of the post, keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position.

   “Enjoy your ride Agent Duncan,” Selena taunted her.

   Heather looked about with anxiously.  There was a noise and as she looked down, to her horror the triangular shaped bar was rising.  It was moving at a slow clip but Heather knew within seconds the sharp top edge would meet her genitals.  She glared at Selena with both disdain and fear.

   “Come on now, I heard you were tough,” Selena taunted her.

   The bar continued to rise until it was within an in or so of Heather’s vulva.  Then it stopped suddenly.

   “This is perhaps my favorite part,” Selena hissed.

   She reached her hand into the gap between Heather’s sex and the bar, spreading apart the folds of her labia, and plucked at the clitoris, shriveled under its hood from the anxiety the beautiful blonde was now feeling.  Heather closed her eyes, determined to keep from being aroused by the hands of her antagonist, but it was a battle she would lose. 

   “Ahh, that’s it,” Selena whispered as she felt the hard button-sized object of her attention begin to stir.

   She bent slightly and took the helpless agent’s left nipple into her mouth, nibbling lightly at it as her expert fingers continued their work.  With a groan of disgust, Heather felt her “ever ready for fun” clitoris emerge from its hiding place, stiffening and swelling with arousal just as she feared it would.

   “Good girl,” Selena smirked.  “I find a slut like you can appreciate her ride more if she is in the mood.  And you seem to be so easily aroused.”

   Just as Heather was mentally beating herself over the head, another sound brought her out of it.  The cause of this sound was more readily apparent though, because with it came the spreading of her legs.  To her horror, Heather realized that the bar her ankles were attached to could be telescoped out.  Not only that, but it could be raised as well.  As it was spread and raised, Heather began to feel the edge of the triangular shaped metal press into her sex.  Her bare feet fought for purchase on the floor, but gradually she had to go up onto the ball of her foot, then to her toes, then at last to just her big toe, her others splayed out in desperation, until at last it too joined her wriggling brethren, the cold steel now firmly planted where Selena had planned it.  Heather had never known such agony.  Her body weight bore down, crushing her swollen clit against the sharp edge of the metal.  Her eyes opened wide, welling with tears.

   “Hurts doesn’t it?” Selena smiled.

   Hurt didn’t adequately describe the sensation.  The agony consumed her.

   The bar holding her legs continued to move, splitting her legs wide apart. It finally stopped, holding the gorgeous agent’s legs just short of perpendicular. With her arms cruelly wired together and raised behind her, Heather had no way of leveraging herself up off the horrid steel edge.  Still, Selena wasn’t taking any chances.  The remaining bondage she would complete herself.  She took another long length of the wire and doubled it.  She looped the doubled end around Heather’s waist, ran the ends through the loop, and then pulled and tightened the arrangement until the entirety of the black wire disappeared in the blonde girl’s slender waist.  An overhand knot ensured it would not loosen.  Selena took the free ends down to the ring at the end of the triangular piece of steel now deep in Heather’s cunt.  She ran the ends through the ring, took a secondary wrap again through the ring, and applied her weight downwards.  Heather shrieked.  The action caused the naked agent to be pulled forward, her sex sliding across the pointed steel until her arms and legs could be stretched no further, her lovely body arched forward, her breasts thrust out like melons crudely in front.  From that point, the only action her body could take was to be forced down harder against the unrelenting steel until all the give had been played out.  Selena tied the wire tightly in place.  Heather looked at the woman through pain glazed eyes.  The final piece was the line of wire that ran from a ring at the top of the harness gag to the same ring her wrists were tied to.  Stretched tight and tied off, it kept her head up, requiring her to look at the woman in front of her.  Despite the cool dampness in the room, Heather was bathed in sweat as her tanned form strained against the stringent bondage.

   “I don’t know how you were treated before,” Selena hissed, “but this is how I treat captured whores like you.”

    She reached her hand out and grabbed the rounded exterior of Heather’s vulva where it curved over the stainless peak of the torture horse.  She squeezed the flesh, drawing more agonized moans from the bound girl.

   “I’m impressed Agent Duncan,” Selena smirked.  “No one has ever held out like you.  Most are begging or screaming, or most likely both at this point.”

  She walked around the bound girl, checking to see that every knot, every cord, had been maximized for her captive’s discomfort.

   “Your time with me won’t be pleasant,” Selena went on.  “When you are not painfully and skillfully restrained, you will be mired in servitude.  You will be dressed like a slut, if you are even allowed that luxury, and you will do it all without so much as a whisper of attitude.  And when they find that little sister of yours, and you are sent off from here, you will never be able to live down the fact that you were my plaything, plain and simple.”

   She made one more trip around, running her hands over the straining thighs of the blonde agent, before turning to her assistant.

   “Kinga, I believe we promised this cunt a tit-whipping,” she smiled.  “Make it one she remembers.”

To be continued…

   

  

      

  

     

 

  

  

  

 

    

   

  

 

  

  

    

  

    

 

  

     

 

     

  

  

  

  

  

   “Well I’ll be dipped in shit!” Mallory hissed.  “No one has any fucking idea where she is?”

   There was a collective shaking of heads.  A search had turned up nothing.  Whoever had done it knew what they were doing.

   “Well it wasn’t her meddling cunt of a sister,” Mallory went on.  “I hope she’s enjoying her first trip to Brazil.”

   For the first time all morning a smile could be seen on her face as she entertained the thought of her former lover at the hands of Selena Sczerbynski.

   “Very well,” Mallory went on.  “See that no one leaves without being searched fully.  And get a group to pay a visit to the natives nearby.  They may know something.  Perhaps we can work out a trade.”

   The group broke up and left the small courtyard area, leaving Mallory and Alexandra the sole occupants.  Alexandra wasn’t elated with the prospect of being left alone with Mallory.  Nothing good had yet happened to her while in the company of the woman.  But obviously she had no choice in the matter. 

   The seventeen year old cringed as her captor ran a finger down between her breasts, tracing the line left from a bead of sweat.

   “So what do you think Alexandra?” Mallory purred.  “Is poor Samantha out there somewhere just waiting to be rescued?”

   She pressed in close to the girl, her hand cupping the helpless girl’s exposed genitals.  Alexandra moaned.  It had been many hours since her last dose of the drug, but the powerful aphrodisiac still flowed through her veins.  She had remained maddeningly unfulfilled, sleeping scarcely at all through the night, only to be brought to the courtyard and displayed like some slaughtered animal while Mallory held a meeting.  She was splayed out in a taut “X” shape.  Her wrists were tied to the top of a stout wood frame, her ankles spread wide and bound to the upright supports. Mallory had rubbed her lithe form with oil and her skin glistened in the morning sun.  Mallory moved around behind her, admiring her slender, athletic physique.

   “When you wiggle this does it excite the boys?” she asked, gripping the girl’s firm butt with both hands.

   Alexandra moaned through the ball gag strapped firmly between her teeth.  Her arms were stressed, and her shoulders ached, but the real agony came from the unsympathetic spreading of her legs.  She looked down to see her small breasts stretched tight against her chest, shaking her head angrily at the silver rings piercing her nipples.  Each ring had a small silver bell mounted on it, and they rang in response to her struggles.  This in turn delighted Mallory who returned once again the stand in front of the helpless girl. 

   “You just keep shaking that lovely little body,” she smiled. 

   She reached up and pinched the girl’s septum.

   “I’m thinking this afternoon I’ll add another one up here,” she taunted.  “The more, the merrier.”

   Alexandra threw her head back.

   “And perhaps two more down here,” she continued, wickedly pinching Alexandra’s labia.

   She released the tender flesh and stepped back.

   “Try and stay out of trouble,” she laughed.

   With that bit of sarcasm, she left the suffering girl alone.

 

   Samantha’s tongue was beginning to cramp.  What else was new?  It could take its place in line right behind her arms, back, legs, and thighs.  But this servicing carried an additional twist from her month’s long task of satisfying Mallory.  As Sonja had earlier alluded, the sight of a helpless girl insatiably aroused, was a powerful tonic.  After replacing Samantha’s gag with a more practical ring gag, Sonja had administered a healthy dose of the drug that she had managed to pilfer from Mallory’s camp.  Then she sat back to enjoy the spectacle.  Samantha lay on her side in the pitiful bondage while the drug took effect.  It started as a warm, numbing kind of sensation that spread from her stomach up to her breasts.  Her nipples began to tingle, and then began to stiffen.  As the sensitive flesh started to respond, Samantha realized that the cool numbness was slowly making its way downwards too, spreading across her hips, and nibbling all too incessantly at her labia.  She moaned, closing her eyes as the now rapidly moving force began to take dead aim at her clit.  As much as Samantha tried to fight it, she soon found it too surrendering its neutral observer status, and becoming a willing accomplice.  The sensations assaulting her body cried for attention, but the only attention she received was an occasional probe from Sonja’s finger.  It was as if she were checking the temperature of a side of meat being cooked, and waiting until the reaction of the hogtied girl indicated it was done.  Each pass of the finger over her clitoris heightened the poor girl’s arousal, delighting her captor but doing nothing to relieve Samantha’s distress. 

   From her strained position on the floor, Samantha watched Sonja strip out of her clothing.  She was an attractive woman, slender, with an athletic build.  She was braless beneath a lightweight t-shirt, and it was immediately apparent she was aroused as her stiff nipples quivered with the removal of it. The sight of Samantha’s lovely body becoming more and more aroused was having its own affect on her.  But the real source of her excitement was the power she felt.  In some ways it was a realization of sorts.  Truth be told, she had always felt herself better than most.  But there were social pressures that kept those feelings from outwardly manifesting themselves, but not here, and not now.  This was her domain.  She alone would decide when and if the beautiful young girl would be granted any relief.  And that would depend on her own desires being utterly and completely satisfied. Here, she gave no quarter.

   She settled onto the floor beside Samantha, her hands exploring again the helpless expanse of flesh before her.  The mere touch of her fingers was enough to send the blonde girl straining against the cruel cords binding her, and of course that was the purpose of it.  She fought to clench her thighs together, hoping to somehow ease the fire of arousal coursing through her genitals, but the cross-ankle tie prevented it.

   Once again she felt Sonja’s finger slip through the wet lips of her vulva to stroke her clit now fully engorged.  She chuckled, pulling it out and then adding insult to misery, cleaned her finger on Samantha’s tongue, easily available through the ring gag.  An oversized pillow was tossed to the floor beside Samantha’s head, and she felt Sonja’s fingers fumbling with the knots on her ankles.  Samantha, sighed with relief, anxious to be freed from the agonizing hogtie.  To her dismay, when the fingers were done, she was still held as stringently tied as before.  Sonja tipped the quivering bow-taut blonde back onto her belly.  She moved around in front of the girl, and positioned the overstuffed pillow just in front of her, then draped two cords over Samantha’s shoulders on each side of her neck.  Samantha realized that instead of releasing her ankles as she had hoped, Sonja had tied a long, doubled length of cord to them.  Sonja dropped gracefully to the pillow, grabbed the two ends of the ankle leash, reclined slightly, and spread her legs. 

    “Now, if you have any hope of being relieved of that position you’re tied in, or being granted any bit of pleasure, you will satisfy me completely,” Sonja commanded.

   Samantha clenched her eyes.  This was becoming ‘old hat.’

   Sonja pulled the leashes in tandem, rocking the blonde girl forward and into her waiting sex.  With her small breasts pulled almost flat against her chest from the severe tying of her arms, Samantha had little to cushion her against the rough reed mat.  Her nipples rubbed against the harsh fibers, both stimulating and irritating them.   But when her captor locked her thighs around the blonde girls head, there was no choice other than to attempt to satisfy her. 

   “Don’t you just love going for a jog in the morning?” Selena gushed.

   On most occasions the answer would have been a resounding “yes.”  This, however, wasn’t one of those occasions.  For a multitude of reasons.  One culprit was the black single glove laced onto her arms.  It was a piece of design genius.  The thin leather, scarcely thicker than a sheet of paper, molded itself to Heather’s arms like a second skin, fusing her appendages together as firmly as super-glue from a point several inches above her elbows, to her fingers immovably crammed into its tapered tip.  A second factor was the footwear.  While Selena wore high dollar jogging shoes, Heather wore tight thigh- high black leather boots with three inch heels, and nothing else.  Third were the nipple clamps.  They were a pair of painful alligator clips, snapped onto the helpless agent’s erect nipples, running to a chain pulled on by Selena as they jogged.  They jogged around the perimeter of a large empty room.  The room had frosted windows at least twenty feet tall, and Heather reasoned that they were above ground, but still within the space that Selena apparently oversaw.

   “That’s two miles,” Selena panted.  “One to go.”

   Heather breathed through her nose.  It was a survival technique necessitated by the three inch ball gag strapped tightly between her teeth.  It forced her to make snorting noises in a constant effort to acquire more oxygen.  Her arms swung awkwardly behind her, their restrained movement forcing her to move her hips more aggressively as a counter measure.  She was bathed in sweat.  There was no part of her body that didn’t have at least a glowing sheen to it, and much of it had beads of the moisture.  It ran into her eyes, down the crack of her butt, and coated the inside of her thighs.  Her muscles strained.  Her legs, graceful in spite of their awkward gait, continued to rescue her each time she felt about to stumble.  At last the pace slowed to a rapid walk.  They continued at that pace a couple more times around the perimeter of the large room, and then the two of them exited through a door.  Heather immediately ascertained they were in a locker room of some kind.  There was a dampness to the air, and a hint of soap and shampoo that Heather recognized from her high school days.  Selena tugged Heather back towards an area of benches, surrounded by lockers.  With a long black leather belt she secured Heather’s thighs tightly together, just above the leather boots.  A snap hook at the end of a leather leash was snapped into t ring at the end of the single glove, and then Heather’s arms were pulled painfully up behind her.  Selena looped the leather around a hook mounted in the wall, insuring the bound agent would remain in her bent over position, and then began the task of removing her boots. When the boots were gone, Selena fastened a short bar between Heather’s ankles, released the leash at the end of the glove, and led the blonde captive towards the shower.  Secured as she was, thighs tightly strapped, and ankles hobbled, it was an awkward and laborious trip, but one that was necessarily quicker than Heather would have liked because of the cursed nipple clamps.  There were multiple shower heads in the large stall area, and Heather was led in front of one.  Once again her arms were jerked up high behind her back, and fastened to a hook used for towels.  Selena knelt and undid the belt holding Heather’s thighs together, but before any measure of relief could be enjoyed she immediately pressed a button on the ankle hobble, releasing a tension spring that slowly expanded the bar, spreading Heather’s legs, and bringing new tension to her arms as she struggled to her toes with the expansion.  The woman was good.  At no time were the blonde agent’s lethal legs ever free enough to wreak havoc.

   Heather raised her head to see Selena gracefully shedding her jogging attire.  The legendary villain’s spectacular body defied logic.  Restrained as she was, Heather could do nothing but watch as Selena showered, her hands massaging her thighs, the narrow waist, the massive breasts.  In spite of her situation, Heather was both aroused by the show, and more than a little curious if Selena had come by her shapely figure naturally.  She was in fantastic shape, as their three mile jog would affirm, but her flat belly, and toned arms also indicated there was more to her daily routine than just a jog.  Eventually Selena finished, and turned her attention to her bound captive.  If Heather was expecting a warm, relaxing soak, she was quickly disappointed.  Instead, Selena removed the shower head from the wall, and directed an icy spray over Heather’s sweat drenched body.  Not only was the cold water a jolt to her system, but it stung like hell.  Her breasts, still tender from the whipping while riding the horrid metal horse began to throb once again.  But when the spray was directed at her genitals, even the normally stoic F.I.T agent couldn’t suppress a sharp cry.

   That drew a cackle from her captor.

   “Still a little sore there are we?” she laughed. 

   Selena squirted some soap from the bottle she had used on herself.  She rubbed the soapy mass into Heather’s cunt, making sure to vigorously massage both her vulva, and her swollen clit. The blonde girl tried to close her legs, but the spreader bar made her totally accessible, and Selena relished the obvious misery her attentions were inflicting.  She hummed softly as she grabbed a nearby razor.  Heather’s wide spread legs made easy the task of lathering up her pubic region.  With the deft hands of a barber, Selena grabbed Heather’s outer genitals, drawing the skin taut, and casually ran the razor down over her sparse pubic hair, first on one side, then the other.  In short order she removed the last bit of modesty left the blonde agent.

   “That’s much better,” Selena smirked, her fingers rubbing the smooth skin.

    When Heather had been fully, and humiliatingly scrubbed and rinsed, Selena reseated the shower head and turned the water off.  She dried herself off, gave Heather a half-hearted toweling, and then once again knelt to depress a button on the spreader bar.  She kicked the bound girl’s leg back to a more tolerable before the bar automatically latched in place, her ankles some eighteen inches apart.  From her gym bag, Selena took another leather belt.  This one was different from a standard leather belt in that it had an additional buckle riveted near the center of its length.  She passed it about Heather’s waist and buckled it extremely tight.  She grabbed a short length of leather, and took Heather’s long damp blonde hair, twisting it into a rope-like braid, then looping and tying the leather into it near Heather’s scalp.  When she was done, Heather had a ponytail of sorts, fastened by the leather, a leftover loop standing away from the knot.  Heather’s arms were at last released from their raised position, but it became apparent that a new torment was in store.  For the first time Heather noticed there were a series of holes punched in the leather leash snapped to the end of the single glove.  Selena whipped the end through the blonde girl’s spread legs, grabbing it from in front of Heather as it snaked upwards.  She looped the end through the buckle, the one riveted to the front of the waist belt, tugging on it with one hand while the other made certain the narrow strip stayed its course.  Heather knew all too well just where it was going, but even worse she was powerless to stop it.  True to form, Selena parted the lips of Heather’s labia, seating the narrow leather strip between them.

   “You know what comes next, don’t you?” Selena taunted her.

   Heather clenched her eyes shut.  In the next instant they shot open. The woman was strong.  Selena pulled down as hard as she could, threatening to split her captor down the middle.  Heather hunched over in pain, attempting to clench her thighs together, but Selena had already fastened the belt securely in place.  She looked down to see the strap had disappeared deep into her flesh.

   “That ought to make certain you cause no mischief,” Selena grinned with satisfaction.

   She ran her finger down the strap, making certain it was indeed as tight as she deemed appropriate.

   “Now for a bit of good news and a dash of bad,” Selena went on.  “I’m certain you have been wondering about the welfare of your little slut friend.  Kelly, I believe her name is.  Lovely little cunt.”

   As she spoke Selena drew a white terrycloth robe around her lush form, belting it in front so that most of her breasts were concealed.

   “Well I intend to remedy that little oversight,” Selena went on.  “But I wouldn’t want you to have to see her completely naked you know. “

   She motioned for Heather to have a seat on a tall bar stool next to a make-up table.  Carefully, the strap through her cunt screaming every inch of the way, Heather lowered herself onto the stool.

   Selena opened a nearby locker and removed a box.  She brought it over and set it on the table next to Heather. 

   “I know you are fashion conscious, so I picked these out with that in mind,” Selena smiled, opening the box.

   She took out a pair of lovely red patent leather high heels.  Heather knew with one glance they had to be expensive.  There was an adjustable ankle strap attached to the top of the heels, but the thing that made them stand out were the 7” stiletto heels.  Selena knelt and worked one of them onto Heather’s bare left foot, grunting with satisfaction as it fit perfectly, and fastened the ankle strap just below the spreader bar strap.  She repeated the process with the blonde girl’s right foot, then stood and took a step back.  She motioned with her hand for Heather to stand.  The blonde agent knew better than to protest, so she stood the crotch strap once again chafing against her labia.

   “Wow!” Selena exclaimed.  “You do wear those well.”

   It required all of Heather’s athleticism to keep from toppling over.  Her long tanned legs flexed, and she wobbled a bit, the spreader bar making an awkward situation even more so.  But she remained standing.  Heather was just barely maintaining her balance when Selena spoke again.

   “Now for that bad bit I promised,” Selena said.  “You and I have a bit of a walk ahead.”

   Heather looked at her with disbelief shaking her head.

   “Oh yes, yes, yes,” Selena chided, grabbing the chain connecting the nipple clamps.  “And time’s a wasting.”

   It was like learning to walk all over again.  The blonde girl had never done anything so difficult in her life.  Just walking with the brutally tight crotch-strap was challenge enough.  Towering out of the ridiculous heels, and hampered every step of the way by the two foot spreader bar seemed to be asking the impossible.  But in reality there was no asking.  She was going to go along, either walking, as tough  as that may be, or dragged by her nipple clamps.  She began the task of setting one foot in front of the other, the strap sawing at her with each swing of her hips.

   They walked out of the shower and down a long hallway.  Selena’s bare feet were a stark contrast to Heather’s halting, clacking heels, but the trip was made at a pace that surprised even Selena.  After several turns down corridors they came to an elevator.  The doors opened, and Selena punched in a code, before sending the elevator on its way down.  When they exited it was quickly apparent the whole atmosphere was different here.  There was a much more sterile feel to things.  They made their way down a short corridor and through a door leading into a dimly lit room with a tiled floor. There were three female guards present, and all took a moment to admire Heather’s tightly restrained body.   Selena smiled.

   “Looks like you have a fan club,” she whispered into the blonde agent’s ear.

   Heather was led into their midst, and forced to kneel.  Selena removed the spreader bar, and fastened the blonde girl’s ankles tightly to her thighs.  A snap hook on a line through a pulley was fastened into the loop Selena had tied into her hair, and a second later she was hoisted up to balance on her knees.  The position was strenuous and painful, but Heather bit down hard on the gag to stifle any audible reaction, determined not to give them the satisfaction of knowing of her discomfort.  Her breasts stood out like ripe melons, the strap through her crotch throbbing with each labored breath, and she could feel moisture beading on her forehead.

   “Bring the other slut in,” Selena hissed. 

   The guards went to a door at the far side of the room, and led the other young captured agent into the room.  Kelly fared much better in the restraint department than Heather currently did.  She was naked, her elbows cuffed behind her with metal handcuffs, her wrists chained in front with silver cuffs and a chain running between them.  There were other aspects where she had obviously not fared so well.  Her breasts were spectacular, riding high on her chest and made more attractive by the way her arms were restrained.  Her areolas were half-dollar sized, and rose-tinted, swelling slightly from the center of her breasts.  The sharp points of her nipples poked out from the middle of them begging for attention, and their pleading had not gone unattended.  They had been recently pierced and fitted with inch long stainless hoops, from which hung fine silver chains connecting the two piercings.  Additional chain descended from the connecting chain to her wrists keeping her hands still as she was being led.  That wasn’t the only thing keeping them still though.  Another chain connected to the wrists and went downwards, connecting with an additional piercing through her clitoral hood.

   “We took the liberty of decorating her with some jewelry,” Selena smiled.  “Don’t you think it’s lovely?”

   Heather teetered angrily on her knees.

   “We’ll get around to you a little later, but we have some business to take care of.  In the meantime, I thought we’d let the two of you spend a little quality time together,” Selena went on, the sarcasm abundantly evident in her voice.

   “Fetch me several rolls of twine,” Selena instructed the guards.  “The thinnest you can find.  And bring those special gags as well.  We’ll have them do the honors of breaking them in.”

   As two of the guards went to gather the requested items, Selena once again approached the helpless blonde agent.  Her fingers pinched Heather’s nipples, the hardened flesh compressing and springing back with the attention.

   “I think while we’re out I’ll shop for something for these,” Selena grinned, continuing to pinch and release lovely gumdrop sized nipples.  “I do love to shop.”

   A few moment later the two guards returned, requested items in hand.  Heather’s eyes passed briefly over the twine.   It was the bristly stuff, undoubtedly the standard fare used by the nefarious organization to secure their enemies, and it was bitterly thin.  But it was the other items that caught and held the blonde girl’s attention.  They were the ‘special gags.’  Just one look and she knew no good could come of whatever uses Selena had planned for them.  She picked one of them up and like a stewardess giving safety instructions before a flight, began to demonstrate their functionality.

    “This part here goes inside your inside your mouths,” she smirked, holding the thick, black penis shaped object protruding from one side of a wide leather panel.  It must have been fastened to the leather in some manner, but how exactly couldn’t be observed.  That was because of the thick foam padding around the base of it. 

   “And this fits up against your lips,” she continued, pressing the thick foam to demonstrate.  “It keeps you two from carrying on with all that annoying girl talk.”

   Heather was impressed.  She doubted any sound would be able to be made once it was applied.  Selena turned the gag over to reveal a longer, but similar penis shape on the other side.  It too was fastened to the leather panel, but it was housed in an oval shaped base that rode a couple of inches out from the leather. 

   “This,” Selena continued, a bit of excitement becoming evident in her voice as she handled it.  “Well, you can guess where it goes.”

   She tugged Kelly over close to Heather so she could be sure both of them could see the next part of the demonstration.

   “But here’s the real kicker,” she said, pausing for effect before depressing a tiny button on the oval base.

   Immediately the base began to buzz energetically.

   “When you get this pressed right up tight against your friend’s jewels it can really make her sing,” Selena went on.  “When we get back we’ll expect a full report.”

   Selena pressed the button again and the base became quiet once more.

   “You two will get the honors of tying these cunt’s as I direct,” Selena said, handing the gags to the guards holding the twine.  “And make it as tight as you possibly can.  I don’t want either of them to cause a stir.”

   The process of binding the two took a good bit of time.  Every length of the twine was wrapped with black electrical tape before being cut to prevent the fraying of the ends.  Each was applied with diabolical tightness, cinched and checked twice for slippage before the next stricture was applied.  If any of the cord could be moved even a millimeter, it was cut free and applied again, all under the watchful eye of Selena.  When at last they were done, she walked around the two obviously reveling in their misery.  She nudged them with her bare foot, their bodies so entwined as to jerk as one when she did.  They were bound in the classic ‘sixty-nine’ position, with each girl’s head crammed between the other’s thighs, the long black penis on the front of the gag plunging deep into the other’s vagina.  When Heather’s head was in place, they had wrapped Kelly’s thighs about her head, binding them tightly in place with the thin cord just above her knees.  It was as if she had the blonde in a head scissors with no way of releasing the hold.  Further down, her ankles were crossed and very tightly bound.  The exact same process secured the blonde agent’s thighs around Kelly’s head, holding the cool, flexible dildo deep inside her own sex.  Each girl’s legs were held straight out behind the other girl’s head.  It would have been much more comfortable to have been able to bend their legs slightly.  And because it would have been more comfortable Selena saw to it that neither one could.  That was accomplished by binding both girls’ arms behind their backs.  They were fastened together at the wrists, just below the elbows, just above the elbows, and at their biceps, this last binding so tight their shoulder blades were drawn together.  Then each girls arms were pulled back away from their bodies, and fastened to the other girls legs so that Heather’s hands were tied to Kelly’s ankles, forearms to Kelly’s shins and calves, and biceps to Kelly’s lower thighs, and vice versa.  Neither girl could bend her legs for fear of dislocating the other’s elbows or shoulders.  More of the thin cord crushed the two together around their torso’s, pressing Kelly’s breasts deep into Heather’s belly, and Heather’s into Kelly’s.  More cord went from each girl’s ankle bonds to a ringbolt anchored in the floor, keeping them from even being able to turn the slightest bit like a pinwheel.

   Satisfied at last that the two were utterly helpless, Selena meticulously worked her fingers between each girl’s thighs, and one at a time pressed the buttons to activate the bases now firmly pressed against each of their clits.  It was difficult due to how tightly each of their legs had been secured around the other’s head, but she managed nonetheless.  Immediately there was a fluttering of their toes and fingers as the vibrations began to take effect. 

   “We’ll let the two of you get better acquainted,” she laughed, not really sure if either of them could actually hear her.  “And don’t worry, we won’t let you spend ALL day like that.  Our business shouldn’t take more than 3-4 hours.  So enjoy your alone time.”

   Selena checked all the restraints one last time, nodded with satisfaction, and left the two bound agents quivering on the floor.

  Sonja sat on a stool putting her long hair into a bun.  She was somewhat disheartened.  Her fantasy was not being fulfilled as she would have wished, and now she was faced with the reality that perhaps she had underestimated hew own ability to make the young blonde perform.  It had all looked so easy when she had seen Samantha and Mallory back at the village.  And she had been certain that giving the teen a dose of the new drug would make her a sex crazed captive, unbridled by any inhibitions she might otherwise harbor.  But alas, that hadn’t been the case.  Whether it was fear, the impact of the drug itself, or something completely different, Samantha had been totally unsatisfying.  Sonja finally tired of attempting to get Samantha to comply with her wishes.  She had angrily flung the tiny blonde to the side.

   “Very well,” she hissed.  “See where that gets you.  Let’s find out if a girl can actually die from an overdose of orgasms.”

   And for a time they both thought ‘yes, she could.’

   Sonja glanced over at her captive.  Samantha’s head lolled against her chest, drool spilling from her gag, running down over her ribs.  She had bucked so violently over the course of Sonja’s punishment, that for a time Sonja had worried whether the stout wooden frame would hold her.     Samantha’s eyes began to flutter.  Then they opened wide, indicating a return to consciousness.

   “Nice to see you come back around,” Sonja smirked.

  Samantha looked down, her eyes taking a moment to focus on what was causing her breasts to hurt so.  She saw them, and then she remembered.  Two thin lengths of supple wood squeezed each of her nipples.  They were tied together at each end, with her lovely nipples protruding painfully through in the middle.  Further down another pair squeezed her vulva.  Her entire body hurt.  She was becoming used to tight bondage, but this seemed test her limits.  The young blonde tried to raise her head, but the effort set the world to spinning once again. 

   After cursing her lackluster efforts at oral sex, Sonja finally cut Samantha free from the strict hogtie.  But it wasn’t a lasting freedom.  Samantha was dimly aware of a thick wooden bar being placed behind her ankles, which were then bound to it spreading her legs about two feet apart.  Through the fog she felt her body being bent and twisted, an arm threaded around her leg, and then the other arm treated likewise.  Sonja lifted one end of the bar onto a brace, Samantha’s body leaning awkwardly to the side until the other end of the bar was lifted onto another brace and the diabolical nature of her bondage was realized.  She was suspended by her ankles, but her torso was bent up between her legs, her right arm bent around her right leg, left around her left, and the wrists fasten behind her back with a length of leather, her butt a couple of feet off the floor.  Once she had her suspended, Sonja tightened the length of leather between Samantha’s wrists, drawing them tighter about her thighs.  Samantha was immediately aware of how exposed she was, her puffy bald vulva almost begging to be touched.    Sonja had teased her until she moaned with desire, parted her labia to more easily gain access to her clitoris, and then fastened the two wooden sticks in such fashion to keep the whole thing exposed while she went to work.

   A stool to sit directly in front of Samantha, and a healthy vibrator were all the tools Sonja needed to rapidly bring the young girl to a staggering state of arousal.  The powerful aphrodisiac did the rest.  Samantha’s tiny body twitched like a fish at the end of a hook.  One mind-numbing orgasm led right into another until it was just one long drawn-out episode of sensory overload.   Eventually her grey eyes rolled back in her head, her petite form quivering for several minutes.  Sonja eventually removed the vibrator from the girl’s swollen, exposed clit, her entire sex a rosy red color, and carried the stool a short distance away.  Mildly concerned, she continued to watch the girl in case emergency measures were needed.  As she watched, she was once again reminded why she had gone to the trouble of bringing the girl here. Even in her extreme bondage and her semi-conscious state, her beauty was unmistakable.  Her legs were slender, yet toned; her breasts small, but lovely, and her face angelic.  Her tanned skin was unblemished and shone with sweat from the ordeal. 

   As Samantha came back around, Sonja stood to walk over to her.  The blonde teen closed her eyes, certain that she was going to get another round of the cursed vibrator.  There was a noise.  It startled Samantha as she didn’t recognize it.  It was like a fly buzzing by her head.  But it was different.  She heard Sonja cry out.  Difficult as it was, she craned her neck to see.  Her eyes opened wide.  Sonja was pinned against one of the support posts, an arrow protruding from her shoulder.  It had passed through her shoulder before becoming imbedded in the post.  In the next instant there were many men in the room.  They were very small men, few of them taller than four feet.  One of them stuffed a wad of cloth into Sonja’s mouth, silencing the stunned woman.  She could see a couple of the men tending to her.  They whacked off the arrow, pulling the broken arrow back through the wound.  Sonja was thrown to the floor, her flimsy nightshirt ripped from her body.   Quickly, the men bound her elbows tightly behind her.  A cord was tied around her right ankle, and that ankle was pulled up painfully behind her and bound to her hair. Some type of salve was rubbed into the wound, and a cloth was then tied around it.

   While Sonja was being tended to, another band of men were assigned the task of releasing Samantha from her difficulties.  While one of the men supported her, her ankles were cut free and she was lowered to the floor.  Then her wrists were freed.  Samantha groaned as her arms and legs assumed a more natural position.  Unfortunately the relief didn’t last.  From a kneeling position she was shoved forward.  One man grabbed her wrists and crossed her arms behind her back.  He held her wrists in such a fashion that her elbows were crossed behind her.  He jerked them harder in opposite directions so that the crossing point was actually well above the elbows.  As he held them, another man bound them, the thin leather running perpendicular to her crossed arms keeping her arms in their strained position with her elbows crossed well past one another.  A short cord was tied around her right ankle with a loop tied in the end.  A longer cord was tied around her left ankle.  She was forced to sit on her butt while her legs were folded into a yoga position with her left ankle where her right thigh met her hip, and the right ankle at her left hip.  The longer cord was run from her left ankle behind her, across her lower back and through the loop on her right ankle.  It was pulled harshly, forcing her ankles in hard against her hips.  It was run back through the cords on her left ankle, jerked tight, and then tied off. Samantha felt something slipped over her left hand.  She looked down to see it was leather.  It was small, forcing her fingers to curl in a tight ball to fit into it.  It buckled with a thin strap just below her wrist, keeping her fingers in a cramped, tight position.  A silver ring was sewn into its tip.  A similar leather mitt was slipped over her other hand.  It differed in that the ring at the tip had a strip of thin leather some three feet long fastened to it.  It too strapped tightly in place.  Then the leather strip was run across her belly and through the ring on the first mitt.  It was pulled, forcing her hands toward one another, and straining her arms and shoulders even more.  It returned back across her belly, through the first ring and once again tightened, and then it was tied off.  Samantha felt as if she was being squeezed between her own arms and legs.  She felt hands at the back of her neck.  The strap holding the ring gag in place was released, and the ring removed from her mouth.  It was replaced with a ball which was part of a larger panel gag.  It wasn’t as large as some of the gags she had been forced to endure, but the foam backing on the panel part of the gag made it much more efficient.  No sound would be permitted to pass.  A leather hood was pulled over her head.  Laces down the back of the hood were pulled tight forming it to the contours of her face and the panel-gag.  Two small holes at the nostrils allowed for air to pass, but not a shred of light made it to her frightened eyes.  Something was looped just above the crook of her knee.  Another loop was fastened at her opposite thigh, just above the knee.  A cord was fastened to the first loop, and Samantha was forced forward, her hard nipples and their piercings pressed against her folded calves.  The cord went from its starting point, across her back and through the loop on her other thigh.  It returned to its origin while one of the men pressed against her back.  It was tugged and pulled until her breasts were flattened against her legs and knotted off.  A length of leather was doubled and looped through a ring at the top of the hood.  She was rolled to her back and the ends were worked under the mid-point of her folded legs and back up to the ring at the top of the hood.  This was pulled until the front of the panel gag pressed firmly against her shins, and it too was tied off.  Samantha’s tiny form had been compressed into a tight package of immobility.  A leather bag was brought, and the young blonde’s tightly bound form was placed in it.  A drawstring at the top pulled it tight around her compressed form, and a stick was run through two rings sewn to the outside.  Sightless, unable to move even an inch, Samantha was easily hoisted via the stick onto the shoulders of two of the men.  As she was carried outside the blonde teen became aware of a low humming sound.  It gradually became louder, and finally became deafening.  She recognized it as a helicopter.  There must have been a clearing near the place Sonja had kept her.  She felt the leather bag being removed from the stick, and then the bag was thrown inside the helicopter.  A few seconds later she could feel the helicopter leave the ground, angle sharply to one side, and speed away.

   Selena was feeling particularly cheerful.   Her foray into town had produced a number of toys and attire which she was eager to tease her newfound playmates with.  Of particular interest was an incredible black, sheer teddy with an intricate lace pattern on it.  She thought Heather would look incredible in it.  The matching thong panties with the slit in the crotch would allow for the beautiful F.I.T agent to be played with at a whim.  And she was feeling particularly whimsical.  For her friend, she had purchased a red latex dress, a micro mini with cut outs where the breasts would squeeze through.  She was proud of the way the nipple piercings looked and the beautiful Brazilian would look fabulous with a strict arm-binder displaying them prominently.

   “All right cunts,” she cheerfully smiled, opening the door to the room they had been restrained in.  “Fun time is over……”

   She didn’t finish the thought.  On the floor were stacks of the thin sisal they had used to bind the two girls together with pieces strewn all over the entire area.  Hanging from the ceiling, tied together, were the two dildo gags.  She approached them, a withering look spread across her normally beautiful face.  Something was stuck to them.  As she drew closer she could see writing on a small piece of paper.

   “Your bondage is as fake as your tits!!  Suggested remedy is one of these up your ass four times daily as needed. HD”

   Selena was beside herself.

   “How the fuck…..?”

   She kicked at the pile of sisal.

   She was obviously at a loss for words.

   “This is far from over,” she finally spat, spinning and walking rapidly from the room.