Two Hariss Hawks circled menacingly above the roof of what used to be a Junta Federal Mansion. The pink, five story Neo Classical limestone building on Avenue Belgrano, with its baroque symmetrical features and imposing columns was now a library for the democratic masses.
A storm was moving in, dark clouds gathering, as a distant roll of thunder rumbled closer.
The Hawks circled the brass dome roof, then swooped down all talons and shredding beaks, their diving bodies silhouetted by a flash of lightning. A raggedy pigeon pecked at roof top moss unaware of its impending doom.
Seconds later a shower of bloodied feathers floated down like large snowflakes.
Some 50 yards below the closed library, was a long forgotten cavernous basement. Accessed only by a well maintained tunnel, from a private house two avenues away, a gathering of the old Junta was taking place.
A meeting of like minded men who missed the “old ways”. Men who missed the thrill of rape, torture and interrogation of the prettiest students, wives and lost tourists. Their perverted ravenous hunger stolen by the democracy.
The Director was holding court, describing his plan for new riches and a return to the old ways.
Predators Above…. Predators Below.
The man only known as The Director was just finishing his speech to the ten trusted men he had invited to the meeting. Seated in a semi circle they hung on his every word and promise.
The Director was dressed casually in a white short sleeved shirt, his growing pot belly straining the seams and buttons. With his track suit bottoms and open toe sandals he stood in stark contrast to the seated men, all wearing sharp expensive suits and shiny leather shoes or boots. Most were sporting chunky gold rings, chains and expensive watches underlining their affluence.
The Director stood in a pool of light, the overhead bulbs highlighting his thinning slicked back hair.
Behind him, in the shadows, stood his younger brother. Tall and thin, with shoulder length greasy hair, he twitched with anticipation. Eager to get on with the evenings amusement.
The Director ran his finger tips through the weeks worth of stubble on his blossoming double chin.
“…..and so gentleman…to conclude…I think we agree that although you all enjoy an opulent life in this new democracy, there is something missing…the Old Ways.
The enjoyment we gained from the screams and pleading of our female guests, and the huge sums of money made from selling films of our fun activities.”
A murmur of agreement and a ripple of applause from the old guard. The ex Junta.
“I still have the old data base of buyers, and this hidden basement with its vaulted ceiling is where we will re start our enterprise. Our ex CIA friend has contacts who can add to our trade by broadcasting live activities on the Dark Web. Its called Pay Per View. But in our case we will call it PPP…Pay Per Pain.”
Snickers, chuckles and another ripple of applause.
“Talking of our old CIA friend – I am pleased to say that our old business continues as of now. Shortly he will be delivering to us a rather beautiful and shapely young lady. As you can see, the cameras are all in place, and we are all set to go.”
A sweep of the Directors arm indicated the four tripods with high definition cameras.
“Soon the light over the entrance door will blink a few times, indicating that he is about to enter with our entertainment for tonight. At this point I will plunge the place into darkness, except for the pool of light directly in front of you.
Can I please ask you all to stay quiet…he assures me she will put on a show for you all….and once finished….well…lets just say…the fun will start. Well fun for us at least.”
All heads turned and starred at the bare bulb over the door….
300 yards away, Holly Allison was climbing into a golf cart, the big muscular CIA man with the crew cut hair sat at the steering wheel.
They had just walked down a very very long stairwell, leading from the basement of the house, now way above them.
“Who owns the safe house?” she inquired.
“If I told you I’d have to kill you” he drawled in a deep southern accent, “but if your recruitment goes well…..then all will be revealed”.
As the golf buggy trundled slowly along the dimly lit sub terrainian tunnel, Holly suddenly started to feel anxious.
Her parents had always warned her about not going with strangers, but here she was, a stranger in this country, with a man she had fantasised about, and she didn’t even know his name.
Holly was an exchange student from a small village in England, working as an secretary at the American Embassy in Buenos Aries. The job was fairly well paid, with sociable hours and good accommodation. 9am to 3pm weekdays she worked at a computer in her own cubicle in a large open plan office.
The big American with his dark shades, and tight white T shirt, muscles rippling, was a frequent visitor. The office gossip was that he was CIA.
He would stride through the room with an air of confidence, always going into the office in the far corner where the blinds would immediately be drawn.
One day he had stopped by her cubicle, raised his shades and gave her a big white toothy grin, and winked. Hollys cheeks had blossomed bright pink, as he replaced his glasses and strode away. Ever since that day she would look forward to his visits, and when he appeared, she felt like a silly school girl with her first crush.
At night alone in bed she would touch herself. Imagine his hands in place of hers – touching, stroking and squeezing. Her pussy drenched, sheets wet between her thighs after a feverish night of passionate dreams.
He knew she was watching him. Every visit he could feel her following his every move. From the corner of his eye he would catch her staring over the top of her cubicle wall.
Yesterday he had made his move.
As the blinds in the directors office opened, he had emerged and made a bee line for her. She saw him coming and her heart started to beat so hard she thought everyone must hear. He entered her cubicle and briefly looked around. Everybody working, heads down, nobody paying him any attention. He removed his shades.
“Hi Holly…you dont mind me calling you Holly do you?”
She looked up at him, her green emerald eyes sparkling brightly..
“How do you know my na….?”
“Your name. I know everything about you. The CIA knows everything about you”.
Placing a hand on the top of her chair he lent down and whispered in her ear.
“Yep….I really do know all about you. Where you are from…Stanton St John…just outside Oxford. Your mother and father….Joan and Collin. Sue and Karen your older sisters. I I have every bit of personal information about you from your NHS number to your bra size. But what I would really like is to know you more intimately”.
Holly gave a sudden intake of breath as he leaned even closer, his other hand, knuckles down, indenting the soft cushion of the chair between her knees.
“We are on the look out for new recruits.”
His hand moved a few inches between her thighs.
“Ya think you maybe interested, Holly?”
His hand moving beneath the hem of her skirt. She held her breath.
“I think we should become better acquainted” he breathed hot air into her ear.
His hand moved further, pushing her thighs apart, his thumb burrowing into the cleft through her panties.
“How about dinner. We can discuss what opportunities there are for such a pretty and attractive young lady”.
An insistent thumb was strumming her vaginal lips and the tip of her clitoris. The covering fabric sodden with juices.
Harder and faster till she gasped aloud, then muffled as kissed her hard.
Holly had almost reached her peak of satisfaction when he abruptly pulled away leaving her panting.
He placed a restaurants business card on her computer keyboard, gave her a salacious grin, then slid on his shades.
“7am tonight if you are interested” he said pointing at the card, “and wear something sexy for your interview”.
Adjusting the large bulge straining the front of his pants, he turned and left.
“Golly gosh” she thought, doing her best to compose herself, “me working for the CIA ….hmmm….maybe fun, maybe exciting. He maybe fun too”.
18.55 pm, and the big CIA agent was sat in a quiet area, at the rear of the bistro Palacio de Encuentro, situated in a side street just off of Avenue Belgrano.
With an agents eye, he had positioned himself so he could see the comings and goings at the entrance door, via a large wall mounted mirror at the reception area.
At 18.58 Holly Allison entered. It was the first time he had actually seen her standing, and out of her cubicle.
“Early, eager and easy pickings” he thought.
He licked his lips as he took in the beauty of the British teen.
Standing at a mere 5’ 2’’, she looked around nervously, chewing at her full luscious lips painted a subtle rose colour red. She wore a simple but sensuous black cocktail dress, that accentuated her high full breasts, slim waist and hips. The hem was at mid thigh, high heels emphasising her long lithe legs.
Shoulder length brunette hair cascaded over the simple shawl that covered her bare shoulders and arms.
He stood and beckoned with an index finger, and as she approached he bent and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
He sat and pointed to the seat opposite, pushing a full wine glass towards her.
“I took the liberty of ordering you a drink. According to your file it is your favourite”.
She sipped and then smiled. Her green eyes sparkled through long lashes, below a deep fringe.
“That’s it” he thought, “drink down the nice spiked wine.”
Mr CIA snapped his fingers, and a waiter approached.
“We need to order. I have set up your audition for later on and they don’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Audition? But I thought it would be a simple job interview.”
“Audition…interview….its all the same. Just need to prove you’re up to the job.”
They spent a pleasant hour eating, drinking and chatting. Talking about their lives and past. Holly talking truths. The CIA man not so truthful.
She had relaxed. Was having a wonderful time. She seemed to tingle all over, putting that down to the third glass she had drank.
“We need to make a move” he said, glancing at his watch.
Snapped his fingers.
“Waiter… bill please.”
She had taken his arm as they walked to what he called the safe house. Once inside he had ushered her through many corridors in darkness, then down creaking wooden steps into the basement.
Here he had swung a large wine rack to one side revealing a hidden door. Once inside he had pushed a button on the door frame, and she had heard the wine rack trundle back into place.
The walls were running with water that shimmered in the dim lighting.
“Down below is a tunnel that will lead to our destination” he said.
Minute after endless minute they had descended the cold stone wet steps, and once again she had taken his arm for fear off falling, so steep was the incline.
Now as the golf buggy trundled along the dimly lit tunnel Holly wondered if she was doing the right thing…the sensible thing.
“How many people will be at my interview?” she asked.
“Just you and me to start. We will begin with a bit of role play, just to gauge your reactions to situations – see how you would operate in the field”.
“Role play…so like an audition as you said”.
“Just relax….you will be fine”, he answered.
He squeezed her thigh and she smiled up at him as the tingle from her third glass of “wine” returned.
The buggy came to a halt, the headlamps illuminating a large metal door. Mr CIA hopped out and extended a hand of assistance as she climbed out.
Unseen,” he flicked a switch on the nearby wall a few times – the bulb on the inner wall flashing on and off, on and off.
“Your test starts now. Turn around”.
She turned around and was surprised when a black cloth blindfold covered her eyes.
“What…wait…you never said…”
“Its just part of the audition. Don’t worry – you’ll will be fine. All of our recruits go through this stage – I will guide you”.
Holly heard the large door creek open, and felt more relaxed as his arm went around her waist. He guided her into the large cavern like basement, pulling the door closed behind them.
It was chilly in here compared to the humidity of the tunnel. Goose bumps rose on her bare arms and shoulders.
He walked her forward into the pool of light. He turned her so she as facing the unseen audience, an audience that was no more than ten feet way. There was no sound, but the big CIA man could feel a sense of tense anticipation in the air.
He stood close behind her, the bulge at his groin grazing her bottom cheeks.
“Ok. I am going to describe a situation and I expect you to react to that situation”.
“Alight” she murmured, her voice wavering nervously.
“Imagine you are in a large opulent hotel bedroom. It is night time – heavy black and red velvet drapes are drawn. Sumptuous thick pile carpeting beneath your feet – a large chandelier hanging from an ornate rose glows dimly, highlighting the patterns on the expensive flock wallpaper.
Can you picture the scene?”
“Yes” she said timidly.
“Over on the bedside table is a brief case which contains documents you are here to steal.
A few feet in front of you is a large Emperor sized on which sits a man – a naked old man. He is practically bald, with a wrinkled pock marked face. He is a large man but time has weathered his body. His chest droops to an overhanging gut, his boney legs riddled with varicose veins.
Can you picture this man?”
“Y..y…yes” she says. Her heart is beating so hard, pounding in her ears.
“Look at him Holly. Look at his penis – big and hard – big as a Salami. Fat and long. He is stroking it up and down – the tip oozing a clear fluid. He is starring at you – drool running from the corner of his mouth. On the edge of the bed next to him he has piled up all the pillows. And next to the pile is a large open jar of vaseline. Can you picture the scene Holly?”
“Y…y…yes” she croaks – her heart racing, fists balled tight. Long nails digging into her palms.
“Imagine that down in the bar you slipped a powder into his drink. A powder that will knock him out cold. But in his eagerness to get you up to his room he only drank a few gulps. Now it will take a while longer for the powder to take effect.
He wants to fuck you. He wants you face down over those pillows. Wants your bottom raised and ready. Wants to fuck you in the arse with that big fat salami of his. If he is feeling kind he will use the vaseline, though, he rarely uses it. He loves the screams and tears of pretty young girls as he forces himself in. Loves the begging and sobbing.
I don’t want him fucking you. You don’t want him fucking you.
What do you do- how do you gain more time for the powder to work. Gain more time before this old leacher bends you over, spread your cheeks and forces your anus open with that big old cock of his?”
Hollys mind turned over the options.
“Well – what do you do?”
“I…I…can’t think…I think I am out of my depth here. May…maybe I…I…should go.”
“No, no, no. What you do is, you put on a show. Keep him sat there while you wait for him to pass out.
I will help you pass this test. You are not giving up – I won’t let you pass on this opportunity. OK?”
Holly stood still and silent, her mind in turmoil.
Mr CIA stood back, his right palm raised, swiping down hard and fast delivering a stinging slap to her bottom.
“Arrrgh” she yelped, rubbing her stinging flesh furiously.
“I asked you OK… that requires an answer.”
“Yes….ok….I will try,” she whispered, wondering if it was ok that he just slapped her bottom.
“Good…then we begin now” the big American grunted, stepping close, grinding his hard cock against Hollys sexy butt, sending her heart beat racing.
“The man is becoming impatient – agitated. Time to put on a show. Save yourself from a painful ass rape. What do you say to him. Speak aloud so I can hear the conviction in your voice. I will play the man on the beds part. Something to react to.”
“Strip you little whore – come here now.”
She stood silent. Her brain a maze of confusion.
Then….she took a deep breath.
“All in good time” she purred “ I’d like to get in the mood first. Let me put on a show for you.”
“Ok – but get on with it. Show me what I’ve got to play with. TAKE OFF THE DRESS.”
Holly hesitated for a second, then with a sigh of resignation she slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders.
Ten pairs of beady eyes peered from the dark.
Her firm up thrust breasts held the dress in place, but with a sexy wiggle it fell, bunching at her slim waist.
Ten pairs of eyes took in the magnificent swell of her firm young breasts encased in a black half cut bra, which squeezed and pushed her tits up and out, offering them to the unseen audience.
Another sexy wiggle of her hips, and the dress slid slowly down to pool around her high heels.
There was a collective intake of breath from the voyeurs in the darkness, as she stood before them, her heart beat thumping in her ears.
Mr CIA walked around to face her.
“Holy fuck” he thought “I said dress sexily, but she’s really gone to town”.
She looked like a Victorias Secret model. Black bra half cut that seemed to be having trouble in containing its contents. A tiny g-string riding high on her hips, the flimsy pouch hardly covering what was obviously a depilated pussy – the cleft clearly defined. Black stockings with a garter belt, her long legs accentuated by her high heels.
“Very nice, bitch. Now put on that show you promised”.
She slid her hands seductively over her hips and waist, then higher until she was cupping her breasts, then squeezing them. Fingers and thumbs seeking out her nipples, rubbing and pinching them until they stood to attention through the silky bra. Her hips grinding sexily to some unheard music.
The sound of a zipper and her heart skipped a beat as she heard the fabric of his pants and shorts being kicked off and away.
“Keep going” he said, “I want to see you cum. Make yourself cum for me. Do it. Give me a show”.
He moved behind her, his breath on her neck. She gasped as two big hands roughly prised her bottom apart. He laid the length of his long, steel hard cock in the crease, the bulbous cock head trapped beneath the waist of her g-string.
“God he’s fucking huge” she thought, as she trailed a hand over her torso, reaching down to cup her sex.
The big agents hand grabbed her throat, pulling her back until her head rested against his shoulder. Her body bowed outwards, thrusting her pussy to the unseen crowd.
“That’s it – show him – play with your cunt. Get your juices flowing. He should fall unconscious soon, but not until you have cum for him.”
Hollys head was spinning, a fine sheen of perspiration making her body shimmer in the low light, as she ran a finger up and down her moistening pussy.
“Finger fuck yourself” he growled, “a wet deep finger fuck.”
She brought her hand to her mouth. One, two, then three fingers sliding over her tongue, coating them with saliva.
Holly groaned loudly as she slide a middle finger deep into her hot wet hole, rotating the tip hard against the roof of her pussy. Her hips gyrated, massaging his cock trapped between her clenching buttocks.His penis sliding up and down the sweaty crease. She felt so hot – so sexy – wanting to please this man – wanted him inside her.
“That’s it girl – give that cunt a good reaming. Pull the fabric to one side – let him see what a filthy girl you are.”
Her free hand wrenched the g string to one side, the invading finger a blur as she fingered the slimy dripping hole. His words had enflamed her. The aphrodisiac coursing through her trembling body reacted to his words. Her head spun as the hand around her throat bowed her further back, further opening her thighs.
“Two more fingers – open yourself up – get that pussy good and spread – fuck it good for me.”
Peering over her shoulder he saw her push three finger tips together then slide them slowly but surely, deeper and deeper into her red sopping wet pussy.
There was a rustle in the dark as hands rearranged now uncomfortably growing cocks. A few sounds of zippers as others openly stroked themselves. All eyes remained transfixed on the young English beauty, as she put on a free sex show for them, just a few feet away.
At knuckles deep there was a deep guttural groan, as she started to pump her fingers, her hand once again a blur.
The big agent reached around and ripped a bra cup down, her left breast bounced into view, the nipple erect and aroused.
Without being told, she cupped the big boob, thumb and forefinger squeezing and rolling the hard nipple. Her face was red, hair dripping with perspiration, as she moaned and groaned, hips thrashing, as her butt ground up and down on the big cock trapped in the crack of her bottom.
“She’s gonna pop soon” he thought.
“Come for him Holly…cum for the man on the bed. He is jacking off furiously. You have won. Soon he will pass out. Let the last thing he sees is you coming hard.”
She was to far gone to hear the encouragement. Moaning loudly, hand dripping wet from her gushing gash, three fingers grinding on her g spot, a steady drool dribbled from her open mouth. It was the sexiest and hottest she had ever felt.
“Oh….oh…god” she cried. “So close….close…closer…aiaaaaaaaaaagh……yes…yes….YES!
She ripped her fingers from her pussy, then rubbed furiously at her erect clit. Her thighs parted further, thrusting her vagina at the hidden audience, finger and thumb masturbating wildly.
“Aiiiiiiiaaaargh….mmm..mmmmm…..yeeeeeeeees …nowwww!”
A torrent of pussy juice erupted into the air, almost splashing the shiny shoes of the hidden audience.
Her thighs slick, stocking tops sodden, she collapsed back against the chest of the CIA man, mewling like a satisfied but tired baby.
“I think you’ve got one more of those in ya. Let’s see if I can get you off again” he said, plunging his hand under the waist of her g string, big fingers mauling her sopping wet snatch.
“Oh god no…please…so sensitive down there…please dont…aaaargh” she squealed as a large middle finger pierced her pussy. Her vaginal lips and clit were sensitive and twitching as her climax diminished. The slightest touch was agony.
She tried to wriggle free, but the big hand around her throat pinned her back to his broad chest.
She thrashed about madly, trying to kick back with her heels, desperate to escape. When a stiletto painfully caught his instep he gripped her throat even tighter.
“Not very nice” he snapped. “You cum so nicely, just want to see it again. Can I play with you. Can I?”
His constricting hand was making breathing difficult, her temple throbbed and stars danced before her eyes.
“Just nod yes. Let me know you want me to fuck with your pretty pussy. Let me know I am in charge.”
The slow suffocation was now making her head spin, so she meekly nodded yes.
“Sensible” he said. “Now reach up with both arms, wrists together.”
Holly felt his cock slide from between her butt cheeks, as a pair of handcuffs snapped closed around her raised dainty wrists.
“Wha….no…please…why are you” she started to ask.
“Just part of your indoctrination. Before you can join us we need to make sure you are not a spy trying to infiltrate out organisation.”
Quickly he passed the cuffs chain over a hook hanging in the darkness above, Hollys body stretching and twitching, her heels barely touching the floor. She yelped at the discomfort, as he used a foot to casually kick her ankles apart, her back against his chest. Reaching down he slid his cock between her thighs, the head gliding over her perineum.
“P..p….please can I have the blindfold off now?”
“Soon…very soon”, he lied.
With Holly hanging like a sacrificial virgin, breasts taut, nipples erect, stomach washboard flat, he had both hands free to do as he pleased.
As if from nowhere, a hand prised her jaw apart, stuffing a rag deep into her mouth. She was sure he had both hands steadying her hips?
“Now lets play.”
She groaned through the rag as hands cupped her breasts, rolling and tugging the nipples harshly, his mouth at her neck, licking and sucking, mouthing obscenities, hot breath searing her ear.
A hand traveled over her trembling belly, then ripping the g-string to one side, fingers rubbing and pinching her sensitive clit as she cried into the foul rag. A long fat finger sinking deep, stirring the pot until she was once again climbing towards a climax.
Now two fingers plunging deep, pussy making an audible slurp as the juices ran down, coating his big hand and hard cock. Fingers scissored outwards, spreading the slick walls wide, allowing another finger access. His hand now a blur, as she panted, breath hissing through flared nostrils, her mind a whirl, hair plastered to her forehead, knees buckling, turning inward.
The Director and his brother stepped into the light, both naked from the waist down, cocks hard as crowbars pointing up to their bellies. Evil glazed eyes peered from black balaclavas, mouths leering at the the writhing, panting girl.
Hollys hips gyrating, her thighs sliding up and down the length of the CIA mans cock as he masturbated her on into oblivion.Breathing heavily through her nose, mumbled groans and cries stifled by the foul tasting rag.
“Yes cum for me – cum for me hard – then we can begin your questioning” he growled, as four fingers impaled her vagina, rough skin raking the wet quaking walls, her mind spinning out of control with hot wanton desire.
She felt hands at her feet, cords wrapped tight around her ankles, tugged either side, holding her splayed wide open, thighs rippling with the strain.
The rag torn from her mouth, she wailed, as the sensations built to a roaring crescendo.
“ Yes y…y..y..yesssss – whooo…whoooo…whoop…” she hollered, her stomach like molten metal as electrical fire rushed up and down her spine. His hand between her stretched lips urging her on, the thumb mashing her clit in wet wrenching circles.
“Ohooo… whooo….whoooo..whooo…” she wheezed, “Mmm..mmmmaaargh… yes….close…close….closer,’ Holly screamed.
Hands at her bra – either side – tugging down the cups, leaving heaving breasts sitting on a shelf of gossamer fabric. Nipple like spikes, shuddering in anticipation.
The Director and his brother stood to either side, each with a hand raised, brandishing springy thin 1 foot bamboo canes.
“Cum for me slut cunt” he bellowed in her ear “cum for me now – then I can slide my cock in that tight hole.”
His words were all it took.
“Aargh whoooo….whoooo…..yes…….yes…I…I…Im there” she bawled, as her pussy gushed and frothed, every muscle in her body rippled spasmodically.
A guttural growl rose from deep within her stomach, as she tipped over the edge, the onlookers, all now standing, transfixed by the writhing young beauty.
As she reached the height of her orgasm two springy canes zipped down catching the areole’s just above her nipples.
“Aaaaaaargh” she wailed at the stinging heat – the fire sending shock waves to feed the churning orgasm, sending her to new heights.
“Zzzzzzzzit” two canes fell as one, scything the air, searing the aureola just below her nipples, stoking the fire between her legs.
“Aaaaarghhhh” she howled, her body bowed outwards, up on tip toe, her breasts thrust forward like a galleons figure head, as she rode the orgasm of her life.
Hollys body convulsed out of control, as the big Americans hands came up to cradle the underside of her prominent breasts, offering them up to the agitated crowd and the waiting canes. A knowing wink and nod to the Director and his brother, then….
“Zzzzzzzzzzit.”
The canes flattened the tips of her nipples into her bosom.
“Aaaaaaaaaaargh.” Her nipples standing to attention – red, hot and angry.
“No more” she cried, as mini orgasmic after shocks bubbled through her tormented body. “Please no more….no more.”
A tear trickled down a cheek from below the blindfold.
As the American stood back she slumped down, hanging by her wrists, drool pouring freely from her gaping mouth to wash over her heaving breasts.
She felt the blind go loose falling away, then her head was yanked back by a fistful of hair, forcing her to stare straight ahead.
Through tear filled blurry eyes she could just make out the Director stood before her, his skinny younger brother, mad eyes out on stalks, studying her like a pinned insect.
“Who do you work for. Are you a spy sent here to infiltrate our organisation,”asked the Director.
Holly, visibly shaking, stood dumbfounded, unable to take in what was going on. Who are these men? Are they CIA? How long have they been here? Did they witness her lascivious display?
“Wh…wh…who are you. What do you want”, she sobbed.
“We are in charge and ask the questions” he shouted, stepping forward, a fat meaty fist punching her in the stomach. Knuckles sinking into soft flesh.
They watched as she wretched and wheezed, unable to bend forwards, the big yanks grasp on her hair keeping her facing forwards.
The younger brother leapt forwards, delivering a sharp slap to her left cheek.
“NO NO NO” he yelled, “Control yourself and listen to the Director. OK.” When Holly didn’t answer he delivered another stinging slap to her already red face.
“I ASKED – OK,” he bellowed, raising his palm again.
“Yes ok” she whimpered “just please stop hitting me.”
“Good. Now we have your attention we will endeavour to find out if you are a filthy spy or not. We intend to do all manner of things to you – some you may like, other things you will definitely not. Spy or not we win either way.
If you have not been sent to infiltrate us, you could become a well paid agent. If you are a snoop we have many ways of dealing with you. Either way is lucrative for us, as you will be the star of our filthy underground extreme sex movie. Many thousands, maybe millions of men will jack off watching you being used, abused and degraded. Since arriving at this place your every move has been filmed and will continue to be filmed.”
“Wha…no…no…please…I am not a spy. I don’t want to be one. Just let me go….I don’t want….”
“Its not about what you want – its about what we all TAKE.”
And at the word “TAKE” the large basement was flooded with light, and Holly saw for the first time the audience of ex Junta predators. Old and some older, in various stages of undress, openly stroking their cocks, all eyes lusting on the young English beauty.
“Ohhhhhh…..my god…..nooooooo…why me…” she pleaded.
“They will get their turn later” he said gesturing towards the audience, “but for now its just the four of us, and as you have cum so nicely for our American friend, twice I think, it’s only fair that you cum for me and my brother.”
“Open her up for me” demanded the ex CIA man.
The Directors brother eagerly moved in, grabbing the pouch of her g string, shredding and ripping the delicate fabric, the material taut like a cheese wire, ripping at her pussy lips, until it fell away in tatters.
Closing in he mashed his mouth over Hollys trembling lips, tongue fighting with hers for entrance and winning. His hands around her waist, moving down, cupping her smooth butt, eight finger tips sliding deep into the crease, then wrenched her cheeks apart.
He pulled hard, her body bending outwards, helped by the Americans hand in the small of her back. She moaned at the strain on her shoulders and legs, held back by the cuffs and rope.
“No vaseline for you darling” the big man said as he pushed his bulbous cock head at her exposed anal ring.
“Nooooo….please not there” Holly screamed, as she felt her sphincter stretch with the pressure he was exerting.
The Director was close, camera in hand, focused on the yanks cock, as millimetre by millimetre it gained entry to Hollys anus, her muscles straining to keep him out.
“Ggggaaaah … yes ….so fuckin tight”, the yank shouted, as her anal ring finally gave way, snapping tight like an elastic band around the base of his cock head.
“We need to hear her”. “Yes lets hear her scream”. “Wanna hear the bitch moan”. The crowd was becoming agitated.
With his cock head buried in her red raw anus the yank held Holly thrust forwards, displaying her to all. Waiting for her to be hammered down the length of his shaft.
He watched as the brother stood away, saw her hot sweaty buns clap together, holding his cock in a warm embrace.
“Noo….please it hurts so much….not there…not my bottom…please…just use my pussy” she begged, bottom lip quivering, tears pouring down to the concrete floor.
The brother emerged from the shadows, a long electrical flex snaking off into the darkness, from the device he held.
“Oh we gonna use your pussy darlin” he sneered, “bought this yesterday. Your gonna be its first victim .
Packaging said a painfully exhilarating, ecstatic and intoxicating ride”.
Holly stared in horror at the big pink device he was brandishing. A vibrator, 6 inches long with the girth of a coke can, and studded with nodules and ridges along its shaft. A big ball base that housed a powerful motor gripped in his palm.
The Director sniffed the air, hard eyes staring at the perfect bald pussy, inches from his face. Unable to resist he ran his tongue along the length of her opening, then his fingers were prising her open, filthy nails clawing at sensitive skin as his brother started the painful insertion of his new toy.
“No its to big….it won’t fit….” she gasped, as the phallus ground against her pussy lips, the Directer spreading her lips wide, the brother forcing it in. Holly tried to back away, but stopped as she felt the yanks cock jab a little deeper in her butt.
The brother drove the device hard against her mound until her lips finally stretched to ripping point around the can sized cock, then holding it in place he hammered the base with the palm of his other hand.
Holly moaned and whimpered as he propelled the vibrator home, pounding the base over and over, it slowly entered, filling her tight pussy.
She could feel it moving deeper, spreading her insides, the nodules and ridges rasping her vaginal walls, the Director with his camera close, catching every detail as the motor housing moved closer to her mound.
She was swallowing it bit by bit, until a final thump on the base, and the ball motor housing mashed hard against her lips and clit.
“Fuck…just got a lot tighter back here,” the yank grunted.
“Ohhhh jeeeeeesus” she blubbered, her eyes wide in astonishment at what they had done to her. The old guard all stared quietly, drooling at the impaled beauty, drinking in her fear.
“Three, two, one and she’s off” exclaimed the brother, as he pushed the button on the phallus’s base and moved away.
Hollys eyes crossed and she threw back her head, growling and moaning as an earthquake blasted and rippled through her groin. The powerful motor churned and groaned in her pussy sending shattering tremors through every muscle and sinew.
Her arms and legs twitched and spasmed out of control, as the yank removed his hand from the small her back, and she slowly slid down the length of his cock, her anal canal swallowing him to his balls.
“Holly fuuuuck” he shouted as the powerful vibrations massaged his penis through her cunt wall, his balls tingling and contracting. When the sensations became to much, he arched her forwards leaving just his cock head gripped tight by her shuddering anus.
The Director was between her legs filming a close up of a constant stream of juice and froth seeping out around the coke can vibrator, held in place by her stretched pussy.
Once again Hollys ass was engulfing the big yanks cock, and she shrieked loudly as her vibrating butt cheeks trembled along the length of his shaft.
The ball motor housing rattled and whirred against her mound and clit, her brain muddled by the overloading sensations, as the yank started a steady pounding of her spasming ass hole.
He reached around, grasping hand fulls of tit flesh that shook and quivered beneath his fingers like jello.
Hollys brain was lost in a muddled tempest, and stars danced before her eyes as she felt a thunderous surge of energy rip through her pussy, rattling up her spine. She was nearing the edge of climax, and all eyes were on her. They all saw her quiver in anticipation, her hips grinding mindlessly out of control. She drooled and moaned, her body wet with a sheen of perspiration.
“Gghhaaaaasaa” she groaned, her hands tight fists, toes scrunched, nipples shaking so fast they were a blur.
The yank felt it too. She was out of control, writhing like a mad woman with a clothes dryer on spin, forced into her foaming pussy.
“She’s gonna pop” he shouted, doubling his efforts, his cock head thrusting and twitching deep in her bowels.
Hollys head back, the milky way swimming before her confused eyes, she started a deep groaning, the intensity and loudness building.
“Grrrraaaa…..aaaaaagh……Ooooooo…whooooo..”
“That’s it bitch….cum for us….gonna fill your bowels…cum for us slut.”
Holly once again stepped over the edge, fingers and toes splayed rigid, her body convulsing spasmodically, as an orgasmic tidal wave thundered through her used body.
“Yes….yes….YEEEEESSSSS” she screamed, and then hung panting and gasping for air as the yank sprayed rope after rope of hot semen deep into her guts.
“Ghaaaa…..oh…oh….oh…geeeeeyah…” as a second orgasm hit, leaving Holly drained and shell shocked.
The yank dragged his bruised and battered cock from her gripping anal ring, as the Director filmed a close up of her dripping gapping hole.
Someone pressed the button on the base of the vibrator, and the basement went silent.
All eyes were on the bound English beauty, as she moaned and sobbed quietly, trembling now and again as an orgasmic aftershock rippled through her limp body.
“No time to hang about” shouted the Director, “get her ready for the next scene. We’re making movies here!”
The brother quickly removed her ankle bindings, as the American lifted her from the hook, and removed her cuffs, then re cuffed her hands behind her.
Disheveled and bewildered, she stood there swaying, un sure what to say or do, her brain full of chaos and confusion. Why couldn’t she close her legs, and why did she feel so full down there?
The brother was between her thighs trying to extract the coke can monster, muttering to himself. “Fuckers lodged tight – won’t come out,” he said, tugging down on the electrical flex.
A big hand in her hair yanking her down.
“Squat down and push that thing out” he commanded, the Director zooming in as she squatted, thighs wide.
Holly then remembered the big vibrator as her brain fog slowly cleared.
“God….please get it out of me” she pleaded.
The brother towered over her, his straining cock inches from her pleading eyes.
“Its stuck tight….you gonna have to birth it out. Start pushing, or we switch it on again”, he threatened.
“Nooooo…..please, I’ll try” she said, bearing down, trying to expel the monster. Holly was sweating, going red in the face, cheeks puffed out as she bore down on the can cock. Her pussy lips were stretched tight to ripping around the device, as bit by bit it started to emerge, a thick frosting of pussy juice dripping from it.
“Come on” shouted the Director, “this is taking too long.” Two of the old guard where whispering in his ear, as he nodded agreeing something with them.
Holly found herself thrust forward by the big yanks foot, crashing down unable to put her hands out, the side of her face kissing the floor, her butt up and trembling. He pulled on the flex, one foot on her bottom, his muscles rippled with the strain.
“Push it out girl,” he shouted as the Director moved in for a close up.
Suddenly there was an audible “Phuuuut”, the thing erupting from her pussy, followed by spew of juice and slime, Holly panting from the exertion, as the yank hauled her back into a kneeling position by her hair.
Two of the old guard stood before her, naked from the waist down, slowly masturbating, evil leering smiles and gloating eyes enjoying her horror and confusion.
“ Theses two gentle men are going to cum in your mouth, and you are going to swallow it all down and thank them. OK?”
Holly hesitated. “No please, I can’t” she said, “that’s filthy”.
They all burst out laughing.
“Of course it is, that’s why we want you to do it. So we can film it for many to enjoy. You can do it willingly, or we will force you. Choice is yours.”
“No…no… noooo..you can’t make me…..I’ll bite” she cried, as they all laughed at her again.
“Tape her” shouted the Director, and from behind, the yank reached down and quickly smoothed a length of gaffer tape across Hollys mouth. Her nostrils flared, dragging in air as his hairy forearm grasped her in a head lock, holding her still and compliant.
The two old guard stepped forwards, chatting casually in Spanish as they masturbated, their weeping cocks inches from Hollys face.
“These filthy old men are going to cum on my face” she thought, struggling, trying to wriggle free, the yanks arm tightening across her throat holding her head still.
From the corner of her eye she could see the Directors camera, red light blinking, inches from her face filming the degrading act that many men would pay to see and jerk off to.
Their hands were a blur now as they stepped closer, and Holly could see the clear pre cum glistening in the camera lights.
“Ahora” they both shouted, as they moved in, each jamming their cock tip into a flared nostril, blocking her air supply, roaring in satisfaction as they emptied their balls into her nasal cavities. As they withdrew, each man smeared her cheeks and eye lids with excess cum, chuckling as they stood back and stared, and waited.
Holly couldn’t breathe. Mouth taped shut, nostrils full of these foul mens rancid cum, she struggled in the Americans grip, her heart beating fast in panic, as her head started to spin.
“Ever snort coke?” ex CIA whispered in her ear.
She new what he meant, what he wanted her to do, but didn’t want to give in. Didn’t want them to win.
The Director was in front now, her beautiful, innocent, panicked face, framed perfectly in his view finder.
Hollys vision blurred and her finger tips and toes tingled, as her lungs burnt and screamed for air. Maybe she should just die like this. Not give in to their perverted demands.
She desperately squirmed and wriggled trying to break free, but the yank just tightened his headlock.
Hollys efforts to escape slowed as her body cried out for air. She knew they had won.
“Ssssnnnnnngh” Holly snorted the semen, flooding her mouth and throat, partially clearing her nose.
“Ssssnnnnnnngah”, she snorted down their spunk, her lungs filling with life, her gullet filling with semen.
Her face stung like hell, as the tape was ripped away, the grip on her throat gone she leaned forward, retching and crying.
One of the audience was talking to the Director.
“Keep this going…all mucho fun…I am going to get my son Trunk and the dogs…back very soon.” The Director nodded in agreement, and the man hurriedly left, glancing over his shoulder at the weeping beauty.
“Next scene” the Director shouted.
Holly hung by her cuffed wrists and ankles. Elasticated cord held her upright like a human ‘X’, her spread toes seeking the floor about a foot below them. A wooden pole threaded through vertical pillars lay horizontally across the small of her back, forcing her hips to bow forwards, offering her pussy to the lustful gaze of the spectators.
The brother stood to one side casually twirling a two foot length off half inch hard rubber garden hose, his salacious gaze fixed on her pink upthrust nipples.
“Now down to serious business” the Director said, a finger running down the length of Hollys proffered vaginal lips, causing her to gasp.
“Are you here to infiltrate our organisation? Before you answer…a little demonstration of what is to come if you think you can lie to us. Brother….ten across the torso, from here to here” said the Director, indicating an area from Hollys hips to just below her now trembling breasts.
The brother raised the hose.
“No please don……Aaaaaaiiiiiiahh” she screamed, as the hose laid a red line of fire, just above her navel.
“Thwwwwwwwwick”. Another line, just above the first, sent Holly thrashing and screaming.
The hose whirred through the air again and again. Perfect parallel blistering lines, painting her delicate flesh.
The elasticated ropes offering minimal movement, just a slight bounce as she screamed and writhed in agony, her breasts slapping together, wet with perspiration and tears.
“Pleeeeeeeeease stop….yo..you….your killing meeeeee’ she wailed.
“You won’t die” shouted the Director, “but you may pray that we kill you. Three more to go brother..underside, then tips then lips.”
The brother licked his lips and smirked.
The Director gripped Hollys nipples, rolling them between thumb and forefinger, until they stood out like bullets.
Stepping back he traced a finger from areola to areola, then across the underside of her breasts, and finally across the top of her thighs and pubic mound, indicating where the brother should strike.
Holly stared down with tear filled eyes, chewing her lower lip in fear and apprehension.
“Please dont hurt me again” she snivelled.
“Sshuuuuuuush” whispered the Director, stepping away. “Just three more – if you don’t scream we will let you down and release you.”
The rubber hose was a blur in the air as the brother swung it ferociously across the underside of her quavering tits, leaving a raging red line in the soft white flesh.
Hollys head was back, eyes screwed tight, teeth gritted, as an animalistic growl rattled in her throat. She wanted to scream, but more than that she wanted out of this place.
She twitched and writhed, perspiration bathing her skin, as she danced in mid air.
The brother swung the hose in circles, scything the air, taunting her, no indication as to when the next blow would land. Holly grimaced as she felt the movement of air close to her face, then sucked in her stomach as the hose passed by her midriff. Her nipples hardened and stood out further as the hose blew air over the trembling nubs.
Then silence. Everyone held their breath as the brother silently drew back his arm, his muscles tight and flexing.
He swung full force, the hose cutting through the air, Holly feeling the soft breeze on her areola, before the cooling air turned to agonising fire as her nipples were flattened into her heaving breasts. Both nubs sprung back, hot and hurting like mini volcanos, as every muscle and limb locked tight. She shuddered and squirmed, teeth threatening to crack, ground together, as she rode the pain and danced a dance of pure agony. But she didn’t scream – just a deep rattling growl rasping in her throat, her neck cords straining in stark relief.
“Very good Holly” the Director grinning, “Just one more to go” he said, trailing a finger lazily up and down her slick vaginal cleft.
Cupping her hairless mound, his thumb traced a feathery circle around the clitoris, that slowly stood to attention.
“No please – not there – please please no” she sobbed.
“Yes Holly – right here. Across your plump hairless cunt. I do like a girl that shaves down here. No fuzzy pubes to protect it from a good whipping.
“Last one brother, and make it a good one. See if you can loosen her up her vocal chords.”
A deathly silence as once again he drew his arm back, eyes like lasers on the target. Holly felt the yanks hands on her hips, her thigh and arm sockets groaning as he bowed her out further, offering her pussy to kiss of the hose.
The silence was broken by the sound of displaced air, and the biting sting of rubber snapping at delicate skin, making a wet “Swuck”! sound.
The pain did not register immediately, but as the crimson welt flared and stung like a thousand hornets, Holly screamed and thrashed violently, threatening to dislocate her limbs.
“Aaaaaaiiiiiiiaaaaaaaaagh” she yelped.
Her stomach muscles rippled, as she danced in her bondage, her crotch thrusting back and forth as though fucking an invisible lover. Her fingers writhed and clawed, as she bucked and twisted, droplets of sweat flicking from her flailing hair.
The old guard smiled and leered, chuckled at her pain, rubbing their erect cocks through tented trouser fabric.
The Director waited until she calmed. She hung there panting through flared nostrils, drool poured from the corner of her mouth, tinged with blood from where she’d bitten her tongue.
He stared at the vivid stripe that ran across both thighs and half way down her weeping mound. He ran a fingernail the length of the wound, sending Holly into hysterics.
“Noooo….please….hurts so much…aaah….ahhh”.
“Brother you missed her clit by an inch. Try again eh?”
“Wha…no….no…pleeeeease… you promised. Promised to let me down. Let me go. You promiiiiiised” she babbled.
“Yes I did promise….but you screamed, so promises are off. Continue brother.”
Holly groaned as her hips were once again thrust forward. She flung her head back and gritted her teeth as the ominous whirring of the rubber hose filled the air.
“Whooooosh!”
There was a sickening moist “Swuuuck,” as the hose scourged another welt of pain one inch above the first, but this time Holly didn’t scream. She was running in mid air, desperately trying to rub her thighs together, to cradle her clit which felt like it had been ripped to shreds.
Her brain overloaded with the agony. With stars before her eyes and the room spinning she passed out, her muscles and sinews occasionally twitching.
“Next scene” shouted the Director, turning to the audience.
“The choice is yours gentlemen – the mattress or the frame – a show of hands please.”
After a quick vote, the Yank and the brother dragged the tubular frame into the pool of light, everyone gathering in a circle around the device.