Delivery to Dubai

by Jack Watcher

It was the second snatch - pun intended - for me and Hal that month. Business was going strong, at least our business.

“Here,” I said, handing her the still sealed bottle of water. The one with the needle hole at the bottom, plugged with crazy glue. She “drank and sank” as we say in the kidnap biz.

Mariana was an exotic olive-skinned beauty with fine tits and a beautiful face. It was the face that got her in trouble. A UN delegate fom Dubai saw her in a bar decided he wanted her, and he could pay our exorbitant fee. That was our business, kidnaping women, which included some “conditioning” before we delivered the naked lady. With this one we faced a special challenge, she was a lesbian.

Her head was on my shoulder as we sat side by side on the Dolores Park bench in San Francisco’s Mission District. Hal slid in on the other side of her and we helped her “stand”. A quick few paces to our nearby rental car (Who would have believed Hertz would rent a car to Jimmy Hoffa? All it took was a fake driver’s license.)

There’s all the difference in the world between removing the clothes from a willing, helping woman and undressing an unconscious one. I get a sense of omnipotence, able to touch where ever I want. But the flesh is limp, it makes no move to touch back.                

Were in the scruffy apartment we had rented in the Haight Ashbury, once the world-famous center of free love. That gave way to excess use of the wrong kind of drugs. Today there would be lust, not love, and rape instead of LSD rapture.

“Nice tits,” Hal said as I unbuttoned her blouse to discover she wore no bra. She wasn’t wearing panties, either. Slowly she started to wake from the strong sedative in the bottled water. She raised a hand to wipe her face and I grabbed it. It was about then that she discovered she was naked in a room somewhere with a guy she had met in the park, and his very sinister-looking friend. “What the fuck!”

I slapped her face. It made a crack and her hair, long and dark, whipped across her eyes.

“Don’t talk.” I said softly. “Keep your hands in your lap.”

“Why...” Crack. Now tears came, but no sobbing. I hate sobbing women.

“Here’s the deal, Mariana, we’re all going to have some fun this afternoon and then we’re taking you to meet a gentleman friend of ours.”

“NO!”

“I never want to hear that word from you again,” I said, taking the needle-nosed pliers Hal handed to me. I clamped a nipple and squeezed as Hal held his big hand over her mouth, making her shriek of pain a mere nasal noise. Neighbors.

“Ever have your tits whipped?” Fear in her eyes. She shook her head, hoping it was a safe way to say “no”. “Wear a crotch rope?” Another negative shake. “Okay, let’s start with that.”

Hands tied together and hoisted over her head she stood waiting as Hal unrolled a length of what looked like ordinary rope. The tiny nails embedded in the rope were not visible to the naked eye. But to the naked crotch? They would make their presence known. She wiggled her hips as I looped the rope around her waist. It wasn’t tight yet but she could feel a disturbing prickling. With the slip knot at the base of her spine I passed the rope down and up between her naked legs. Then under the waist loop. As I pulled it tight the nails dug into her labia and her ass crack. She sucked air sharply and then cried out. Fun.

“What, not tight enough?” Frantically she tried to both nod yes and shake her head no. As I reefed on the end of the crotch rope she began to wail, a high keening sound.

“Here, you need to sit down,” Hal said leading her to the shabby sofa and, lifting one naked leg, sat her down on the arm. Hard. As the fiery hurt set flame to her crotch she tried to get up but Hal pushed down on both shoulders. Now she was really screaming. “Hands behind your head! Now!”

“Okay, baby, you need to cool down,” I said. “Piss and we’ll take it off.”

“Piss, piss, piss,” Hal chanted as he rhythmically pushed her down again and again.

“Wait. Wait, please!”

“Maybe she needs another bottle of water to help her along.”

“No, please!”

“Did you hear the N word,” I asked Hal. He nodded and picked up a short bundle of thin straps fixed to a handle, slashing it across her upturned breasts. More screaming. The second blow brought tears from her eyes and a gusher of yellow from between her legs. She soaked the old sofa’s greasy arm and her water ran down to splatter on the floor. Lifeless now, she let us get her up on her feet and I unwrapped the sticker rope from her loins. I placed her hands back behind her head and whispered softly, “Spread your legs,” as Hal took trial upward swings with the many-tailed whip.

“Oh, god, please stop! Please, please.”

“In time, dear, in time.” I stepped back and Hal brought the whip up hard between her legs, slapping her mound and lips as she cried out.

"Owwwwch! God that hurts!"                        

“Bout time we fucked her, don’t ya think,” Hal asked. “She should be good and sore down there now.” The look on her face was a mixture of terror and revulsion. A man, fucking her. Not what she wanted. Ever.

“First, the medicine,” I said. Her face grew a panicked look and I could see the “N” word lurching toward the surface. I quickly grabbed the tube, shaped much like a clear plastic tampon, and worked the plunger, filling it with a viscous yellow fluid from a small bottle in our “travel” kit. “This will make you feel better, down there.”

“What...what is it?”

“It’s lots of things, but mostly an aphrodisiac. You’ll like it.” I slid the tube into her vagina and, thumb on plunger,  pushed the fluid up into her. “Now just relax.” Like that would be possible. Soon her hips started to squirm. “Hold still.”

“I...I can’t. It itches.”

We put her on the floor and strapped her ankles to her thighs, heels to butt. A loop of rope around each knee quickly pulled her legs wide while keeping her ankles together. By now her hips were bumping up and down thumping the floor. She tried a side to side wiggle but that brought no relief to the growing heat deep inside her loins. A low moan slipped from her lips.

“Now it’s time to fuck her,” I said.

She whispered, very faintly, but I heard it. “Yes.”

Hal went first. Naked below the waist he slid between her now cramping legs and put the head of his rather large cock where the fun begins. Then he slowly push his hips and glided up inside her. Her sigh was positively wanton.

The mixture we had injected into her vagina lubricated his way and coated his cock with the same heavy fluid that was making her hips buck. He waited a few moments until I saw the smile light his face. He was feeling the stimulant now. He started rocking and soon she was humping him back, faster and faster, hoping for relief from the terrible need we had put between her legs. With one final push Hal pinned her to the floor, held her there, and shot semen deep up inside her. When he finally pulled out he got up and went to the bathroom to wash off the “medicine”. We left hers in place, deep inside, mixing now with Hal’s gift of white goo. Her moans were coming in sync with the rolling of her empty hips.

I got all the way naked because I wanted to feel her tits against me as I fucked her.

“Ah, ah, AH!” Her head was turning side to side now as my entry promised at least a few minutes of relief. I rode her slowly as I waited for the heat to infect my cock. It was a delightful fuck.

When I came back from my trip to the wash basin I saw Hal fingering his once again erect cock. In his other hand he held a shot glass into which he deposited his second load of the evening. Standing he carried the shot glass and its milky contents to Mariana and held it to her lips. “I’ll be you’ve never tasted this before, have you?” The look of disgust was her answer. Quickly Hal pinched her nose shut and when she finally opened her mouth to gulp air he tipped the glass over her lips sliding his semen smoothly into her mouth. She stated coughing and Hal clamped her jaws shut. She started to gag.

“If you throw up...” Hal threatened and she struggled to keep her stomach under control. “Now, SWALLOW!” Finally she did just that with a look that said a part of her precious private world had just disappeared along with the white stuff.

The breaking was going well. Time for “Barbie” to visit. Barbie was a slim tube made for vaginal insertion, slick silver going in, dripping red coming out. Inside Mariana the tube began to warm. It went from warm to hot and she started to wiggle wildly.

“Take it out, take it out!”

“We’re just getting started here,” I said, moving the small switch at the outer end of the tube, setting it vibrating. And moving the wickedly sharp barbs slowly out of their recesses and into her vaginal walls.

“Stop, stop! Oh, ghod please stop! Take it out!”

“Oh, you want it pulled out?” I tugged sharply at the tube and her screams filled the dirty little room.

“No, no, no! Stop!”

“You need to make up your mind my dear,” I said, slamming the tube back in deep with the heel of my hand. She passed out.

When she came to, Hal held a chipped cup to her lips. “Here, drink this. It’ll make you feel better.” She swallowed, spit, coughed and gagged as part of the big mouthful of Hal’s piss went down her throat. To get her mind off her discomfort I picked up the many-stranded whip and hit her tits. Hard. Again and again and again.

One can only whip a woman’s tits for so long before one’s arm grows weary. As the crazy Haight night wrapped itself around our rented room we began cleanup. First the woman with hot moist towels followed by antiseptic douches and ointments. Then a wipedown of the entire place, wearing gloves. We dressed her nearly lifeless body in the clothes she had lost a few hours earlier and led her out to our car. She was quiet during the drive to a much wealthier part of town. Two servants in white jackets came out and helped her inside after one slipped me a fat envelope.

“Dubai bye baby,” Hal said as Mariana began the rest of her probably short life.