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o o
o The Bookshelf Directories offer a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also o
o from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order o
o other than offering them to you in alphabetical directories. o
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o All works are copyrighted to the author and may not be used for o
o profit without obtaining the author's permission in advance. o
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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
The Eagle Strikes (M+/F, nc, revenge)
by Spoonbender (spoonbender@hotmail.com)
*****************************************************************
(c)2000 Spoonbender. A short story of an adult nature. Not to
be read by minors. If you don't like stories where young ladies
are taken advantage of or you are underage then don't read it.
Contains descriptions of non consensual sex and corporal
punishment. Can be freely distributed as long as it is not
changed, including this heading, and you tell me the URL if it is
put on a website. If it is to archived on a fee paying archive
then please email me first for permission.
Please email me with comments, constructive criticism, fantasies
you want put into words etc. Don't flame me if you don't like the
content or you don't like my style. Spoonbender@hotmail.com if
you want to correspond.
*****************************************************************
This story is based on a real life incident. It is up to you, the
discerning reader to decide where the fact finishes and the
fiction begins.
It was written with the aid of a lady without whose imagination
this story would never have seen the light of day. Thank you.
*****************************************************************
He snapped open the phone and hit the speed dial button.
"Yes," the recipient quavered.
"I'm at the Regency Hotel at 6th and Broadway. Meet me outside
the bar in ten minutes."
"Have you found one?" the voice sounded hopeful.
"Just be here ok." He snapped the phone shut and sat down in a
comfortable wing chair that faced the door of the bar.
Oh yes he'd found one all right. He pretended to scan his
newspaper as he surreptitiously glanced at her.
She was sitting at the bar alone, toying with an olive on a stick
that she had plucked from the bar snacks. She looked bored and he
hoped that she wasn't going to go to bed early.
Luckily his contact arrived and she came up to him, "where?" was
all she ventured.
He indicated the door of the bar with a flick of his paper and
she peered inside studying the profile of the woman inside. It
took a while.
Finally she turned to him, "she's slimmer than me and her hair is
the wrong color."
"So?" he shrugged, "she's the nearest we've got and we haven't
got a whole heap of time. Don't forget our friend is only a plane
ride away."
"Ok, ok, you've convinced me, what do you want me to do?"
"Right, here take these," he fished a small pill jar out of his
pocket and palmed it in her hand. "Put at least one in her drink,
preferably two and make sure you stir it well. Got that?"
She nodded then said, "Ok, listen while I'm with her you find an
all night drug store and pick up some hair bleach and blond
coloring that matches mine. Do you think you can remember the
color?"
He squinted at her but said nothing.
"And another one that matches her hair. Yes and some scissors and
a razor. Got that?" he nodded, "Ok, good, wish me luck," she said
kissing the tip of her fingers then pressing them on his head.
Then she walked into the bar.
She plonked herself on a barstool next to the other woman and
called the bar tender over. "Scotch and water," she turned to the
other woman, "want one while he's here?"
"Sorry?" the other woman was startled out of her daydream by the
question.
"Would you like a drink?"
"Oh I think I've had too many already I was thinking of going to
my room."
"Why? The night is young," smiled the blond. "What you got
planned for tomorrow that means missing a free drink without the
hassle of being hit on?"
"The third day of a real estate seminar."
She said it so dispiritedly they both laughed.
The ice broken she accepted the drink.
"Hi I'm Jennifer," the blond offered her hand.
"Lori."
Lori was still dressed in her business suit, dark suit white
blouse, and dark stockings. The new girl was wearing a cheap pink
halter-top that was about 10 years too young for her, and a blue
denim skirt. Her legs were bare and on her feet were a pair of
garish white plastic sandals.
Their appearance screamed disparity: in taste, in class and in
earning potential. But their features did look remarkably similar
in the dim lighting of the bar. Like they were sisters, with the
one riding high condescending to meet her older sibling who had
gone off the rails years ago.
They were the archetypal strangers in the night; Jennifer's
accent screamed Florida and Lori was pure east coast, each alone
in unfamiliar territory.
They talked for over an hour. A few more rounds were consumed.
Then Lori had to excuse herself, the long drinks she had consumed
were pressing urgently on her bladder.
Jennifer refreshed their drinks and used her coke spoon to crush
two tablets into dust. She glanced quickly round the bar before
scooping the powder into her palm then dumping it in Lori's
drink.
She had just finished swizzling it with the straws when Lori came
back.
She chatted a while longer then Lori started to rock on her
stool, her head swaying from side to side.
"I think I'd better get you to bed," said Jennifer, "What room
are you in?"
"Keys in my purse," slurred the half unconscious girl.
"Room 312, ok up you come, " said the blond as she heaved the
half recumbent girl's arm over her shoulders.
Luckily a man seated outside in the lobby saw her plight and came
to her aid. "You took your time, " she hissed.
"Come to that so did you," he snapped back, "what room's shein?"
"312, third floor."
They maneuvered the girl into the lift and half dragged her down
the corridor to her room. They were fumbling with the room key
when the door opposite opened and a woman in a bathrobe looked
out at them.
"What's wrong with her?" she indicated with her head.
Jennifer recovered first, "oh are you a friend of hers? That's
great, she passed out in the bar and we're trying to put her to
bed. But if you're a friend then we can leave her with you."
The woman looked dubious but stepped aside as the blond pushed
past her. She watched the man lifting the unconscious girl up in
his arms and stepped towards her. Her mistake was that she forgot
to watch the blond who had removed the ether soaked rag from the
plastic ziplock bag tucked into the bottom of her purse.
The rag closed over the woman's mouth, she struggled but the
blond had a strength born of desperation. Finally she collapsed.
"Quick get her inside," Jennifer snapped.
"But this isn't her room."
"It doesn't matter, get her inside while I deal with this one."
They dumped the women on the bed and he rooted through the
drawers while she started to mix the hair coloring.
They tore the bathrobe open then tied her at ankles, knees,
thighs, hands and upper arms, with pairs of tights he'd found in
a drawer. They then wrapped her tightly in the bathrobe again.
Then they stripped Lori as brutally and efficiently as the senior
guards in an East German political prison.
When she was naked the man stood appraising her while Jennifer
got to work. She turned after a few minutes and said, "don't just
stand there start emptying the drawers into her cases."
"And what are we supposed to do with her?" he pointed at the
bath-robed girl.
"You told me once about some guy you knew called Elroy didn't
you?"
"The pimp?"
"That's the one, give him a call he'll know what to do withher."
He flipped open her robe and looked at her soft firm thighs, then
sighed. "It seems a pity to waste something like this on him. He
caters for the rough trade down by the docks, where its quantity
not quality that counts. She'll be fucked out in six months."
"Not our problem. She shouldn't have stuck her nose in. Find me a
piece of plastic."
"How big?"
"Big enough so this coloring doesn't get on the pillows."
He went to the wardrobe and pulled out a plastic suit cover.
"Will this do?" he said holding it up for her inspection.
"Perfect, now make that call then get packing we haven't got all
night."
He flipped open his phone and a few seconds later he was mumbling
into it. Finally he snapped it shut and turned to her, just as
she was dyeing the pubes.
"He says he'll be here in fifteen minutes, what are you doing?
No-one is going to look down there."
"Don't you bank on it buster. After what I did to Carlo I should
imagine rape was going to be the least of my worries, or hers."
"Why not just shave it then?"
"Because everyone knows my bush has been trimmed into a heart
shape. It was my trademark so that's going to be the first thing
they'll look for when she's stripped."
They had just finished their respective chores when there was a
tap on the door.
It was Elroy.
With a couple of rather beefy 'friends'.
"That the meat?" he stuck his thumb out at Lori.
"No its that one," snapped Jennifer.
"You sure you don't want me to take all three off your hands for
you? I'd enjoy training her," he nodded at Jennifer.
Jennifer dove to the floor scooped her purse up and pulled out
her .38. "Try it buster and you'll grow a third eye."
He held up his hands and smiled widely, "only joking sister. Shit
you're a foxy bitch."
"Just take her and fuck off," snarled Jennifer.
The two goons pulled out a large laundry sack and stuffed the now
ball gagged girl into the sack which one of them hefted
effortlessly over his shoulder. The other picked up her cases.
They then opened the door and dashed to the fire exit with her
bumping over his shoulder. Elroy turned to go but Jennifer
shouted, "what about our money?"
Elroy smirked, "money bitch? Shit you don't get no money, we're
taking care of a little problem you folks have. Ways I sees it is
that you should owe me. Fuck Momma, money, hooee."
He then walked out and the door snicked closed behind him.
"You didn't get any money for her? He's probably going to make a
fortune from her."
"Nothing I could do, " he shrugged, "as he said, it was a rush
job. You try disposing of a woman in the middle of the night in
the middle of a city and getting paid for it."
She saw his point. She started to climb into Lori's clothes,
"dress her in mine," she nodded at her clothes lying in a heap on
the floor.
"I thought I could, you know?"
"What? Fuck her? Are you fucking Crazy? We gotta throw this bait
into Carlo's trap then get the fuck out of here. If you want to
take time out for a fuck then pay for a whore, because if I
suspect you have even sniffed this pussy before its handed over
I'll fucking Bobbit you, then mince the fucker to pieces. You got
that?"
He nodded sullenly so she leaned forward and kissed him, "when
this is over I promise you the fuck of your life," she whispered
in his ear before nibbling his lobe.
Finally both girls were dressed; Lori with Jennifer's panties
balled in her mouth tied in place with a stray stocking. Jennifer
picked up Lori's purse and flipped open her pocketbook then
whistled softly. This girl was packing some serious credit cards
and a nice wad of cash.
She found a ball-pen and a piece of paper, "get her awake," she
ordered.
He pulled out a small jar, unstoppered it then waved it under
Lori's nose. She didn't respond for a few seconds then she
muttered groggily.
"Wake up, wake up Lori. For God's sake," Jennifer shouted ather.
"Wha...?" she moaned as she tried to shake the mussiness out of
her head.
"Your Mother is seriously ill. We have ordered a private plane to
take you to her but we must have your pin codes."
"Mother? Sick?"
"Yes hurry, the pilot has been promised another job if we don't
get you to the airport soon. Give me your pin numbers so I can
draw the money out to pay for him."
Lori was so shocked that she actually blurted it out. There was
only one for all her cards.
Jennifer smirked, "Your boss tried to call. What's his namenow?"
"Mr Jones called here?"
"Tony Jones?"
"No Philip, please tell me how my mother is." Lori was starting
to come together.
It was time for the needle.
And soon she was out cold again.
"Ok, now you know what to do?" she asked.
"Yes I phone that Felipe guy, Carlo's local contact and arrange
for a meeting to hand her over, then I get the money and high
tail it to Niagara where I meet you."
"Good now I'll see you in two days. You know the place."
He nodded.
"And remember no fucking it, ok?"
"What about us two fuck each other now?" he leered.
"Because I got to practice her signature and I've got to dye my
hair." She waved him off, "You got the other woman's pocket
book?"
He shook his head.
"Shit!" she said smacking her palm with her fist. "Shit!"
"What?"
"I need to pay her bill and so I need her credit cards. We don't
want the Police poking their noses in, fucking up our plans
because of one unpaid hotel bill. Wait I got it; I'll pay in
cash, this bitch has got enough. Yes good," she muttered to
herself.
She grabbed his head in her hands and kissed him full on the
lips, "Now get out of here. And be careful. See you in two days.
I'll keep it warm and wet for you."
He sidled out of the room and returned a few minutes later with a
housekeeping trolley. Lori was pushed down to the bottom of the
laundry hamper then sheets were dumped on top of her.
He was just about to push the trolley out when Jennifer touched
his arm, "How many men will she have to satisfy every night?" her
voice was husky and dark.
"Who?"
"Elroy's new girl?"
"Dunno, probably a hundred."
"Every night?"
He nodded.
"You'd better go," she husked as her pussy oozed into her newly
acquired lace panties, which were just a little too small for her
and consequently extremely tight across her crotch.
Four hours later. In the middle of the dogwatch when only a half
dozy night porter was on duty she checked her new personae out of
the hotel, together with her friend who had already left and was,
even now, rushing to the hospital to see her dying mother. She
forged her new signature beautifully, which was just as well
considering the number of hours she'd practiced it. Notes went in
the other delegate's message slots, giving their apologies for
leaving early. The night porter obliging gave her the other
woman's name and address on her bill.
Then she invented a problem with the fire hose on the third
floor, which was dripping on the carpet.
Mumbling he went to the lifts.
She nipped into the security office and finding the security
camera recorder she rewound the tape by twenty minutes and set
the clock back on it by the same amount.
Minutes later she was purring along in her new car with her
stereo rattling the windows.
Tomorrow she would write the letter to her boss telling him that
she had met a Lesbian lover and was going to live in a log cabin
in Nevada with her. It was love at first sight and would he be
prepared to send her check to an address she'd send him later.
Which would be the last he'd ever hear of her.
The expensive clothes stuffed into the trunk and the wad of
chunky credit cards impressed her. She had an address too and
tomorrow everything of value would be stripped out and a
regretful letter left on the table talking about her new bitch
etc.
Then she would be out of there. New passport in hand and the
Swiss account bulging with Carlo's money softening the blow of
quitting the US for the south of France on a permanent basis.
Lazing on a yacht all day watching the bronzed beach boys
frolicking in the azure seas and the gleaming white sand.
She was going to enjoy her new life.
But she didn't think Lori would enjoy hers.
And she hoped the dupe who had helped her, without even getting
her panties off, was going to enjoy Niagara in the winter. Maybe
he could look at the falls while she winged her way 30,000 feet
above him with a daiquiri in her hand. Still at least he'll have
the reward.
If he didn't get shot first.
Carlo was one bad cookie when he was annoyed.
And boy was he annoyed with her.
She laughed and turned the stereo up another notch as she roared
off into the sunrise.
(************** (c) 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
*****************)
At first I thought it was just a dream -- a nightmare, really. I
was still pretty woozy when I awoke. The first things that
registered were the dull roar of the engines and that we were
moving. As I tried to shake myself into full consciousness, I
could see trees just below us, and then I remembered that
blond... Jennifer was her name, I think. Anyway, I remember her
shouting at me that Mother was ill, and she was trying to get me
home to her.
That must have been what happened. I Twas on a flight home to
Mother. I Mean, it was the only logical assumption. But almost
as soon as I thought I'd figured out where I was and how I'd
gotten there, even in my dazed stupor, my brain rejected it and I
sensed that something was terribly wrong. Something just wasn't
adding up.
It was then that I realized I was strapped into my seat. I mean,
strapped TIGHT! I struggled, but quickly I realized it was
hopeless and gave up the attempt. I was strapped in but good.
I think it was then that I realized I was wearing a pink top.
Jennifer's top? But, how, why? Then I saw her denim skirt on
the floor and realized I was stark naked from the waist down.
For the first time since I'd come to,, I felt fear and panic
course through me and I instinctively tried to scream, but I
couldn't muster a scream loud enough to be heard above the
plane's engine. It was then that I realized I was not only
strapped down tight, but gagged as well. I tried to force the gag
out of my mouth with my tongue, but it was no use. The gag had an
aftertaste, and it made me shiver with disgust to imagine I had
some filthy old rag stuffed in my mouth.
I remember closing my eyes and trying to will myself awake,
hoping against hope that this was just some terrible, surreal
dream. But, it wasn't. I felt so ashamed, so vulnerable to know
I was naked from the waist down. Why was I wearing someone
else's clothes, why was my... Jennifer's skirt on the floor, and
why wasn't I wearing any panties?
I closed my eyes again, trying again to convince myself I was
just dreaming all of this. I didn't want to think about where I
was, where I was going or how and why I was here. I didn't want
to think about anything, but my mind unconsciously started
piecing things together. I remembered bits and pieces, mostly.
I remembered being in town for a conference, remembered sitting
at the bar and meeting the blond, having a few drinks with her.
And the rest was pretty much a blur... just fragments.
I remembered the blond helping me into the elevator, asking me
what room I was in. And there was a man there, too. There with us
in the elevator. Someone she seemed to know. They were
talking... talking about me.
I think I remembered seeing Gloria, too. She was in a bathrobe,
I think. Light blue bathrobe... Perhaps I just imagined it. I
don't know. Everything was spinning... like it wasn't really
happening.
I remembered hearing voices, remembered Jennifer shouting at me
that Mother was ill. She asked me about Phil... said he'd tried
to call. And she told me she needed my pin number. Oh my God, my
pin number! I gave her my pin number....
(*********** (c) 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
*******************)
One of the men glanced back from further up the plane, he shouted
something over the roar of the engines and jerked his thumb back
at her.
At this one of the other men unsnapped his seatbelt and sauntered
back along the plane, before climbing over and plumping himself
down in the seat next to her.
She wanted to ask him to let her go, she didn't know what she was
doing here this was all a terrible mistake. But all that escaped
past the balled panties was a muffled moan. It didn't seem to
deter him from what he wanted to do as he jerked her legs apart
and jammed his hand up against her pussy.
She screeched into her gag and tried to pull her legs together.
He simply cocked one of his legs over hers, jerking it open. She
tried to kick with her free leg but the seat in front hindered
her. He smiled revealing a mess of rotting teeth as he pulled a
piece of cargo strap from behind the seat then strapped her
kicking leg to the arm of the seat.
Held open and thoroughly humiliated, Lori had to suffer his
indignities virtually in silence.
He started by briskly rubbing her pussy lips, the heat of the
friction was almost unbearable for a few seconds until her body
defenses kicked in and her pussy started to ooze. He grinned at
her, a hideous mocking grin, as he felt her juices on his
fingertips.
She wished the airplane would just crash into the side of a
mountain as she felt her body start to betray her.
She arched her back and frantically tried to push him away as his
finger penetrated her pussy. He thrust it in deeply and started
to twist it inside her while she thrashed on the seat, the
humiliation and pain almost causing her to lose her mind. He
pumped for a few minutes then pulled it out and rubbed it under
her nose. He laughed as she tried to twist her head away as he
smeared her juices onto her top lip.
Abruptly he again attacked her pussy brutally with his finger as
he snaked his other hand over and used his thumb to diddle her
clit. She screamed fruitlessly into the gag as her body continued
to respond.
Another guy came down and sat on the arm of the seat across the
aisle. His hands, inevitably, went for her breasts. The
halter-top was a mere instant's inconvenience as he ripped it
down baring her tits to the delight of the man who was diddling
her furiously.
The tit man plunged his hands into the lush softness of her tit
flesh just as the cunt man was forcing two fingers inside her.
For the next half hour they continued to molest her while she
fought desperately against her own body. Fighting off the orgasm
that, despite her terror, was being forced out of her.
She could feel her pleasure blossom and starting to peak as they
bumped down on a rough jungle airstrip and swung to a halt at the
end.
The door burst open and the two men immediately stopped molesting
her and started instead to unstrap her. She lay back her body
trembling with unfulfilled release and panting her relief at not
degrading herself by cumming for them like a tame animal.
She was hustled out of her seat, her bottom half nude and her
breasts swinging as she was lead down the rickety stairs. At the
bottom there was a swarthy looking man in a billowing white shirt
and cream jodhpurs. He was tapping a riding crop across the palm
of his hand and scowling at her. He was surrounded by a phalanx
of brightly shirted dark skinned men each cradling a sub machine
gun.
Almost naked she was hustled up to him.
He looked her up and down then spat straight in her face.
"Fucking whore! Thought you could fuck me eh? Thought you could
take what's mine eh? You fucking bitch! You're going to wish you
were never born by the time I've finished with you, Senorita
Jennifer."
'Jennifer! There must some mistake. I'm not Jennifer.' She wished
that she could pull the foul rag that was stuffed in her mouth
out so she could try to sort this mess out.
He continued, "you tried to fuck me. Well I'll show you who fucks
who around here. Bend the bitch over, I think a lesson is called
for."
They spun her round and bent her over, her sex shamefully exposed
and pulled apart as her legs were kicked open. One man held her
arms, one had a beefy arm around her waist holding her up and at
least two others held her legs apart.
She screamed into the gag as the riding crop struck her bottom
with a mighty crack that reverberated around the jungle causing
the monkeys to screech and chatter.
She tried to jerk her legs closed and another man had to help
take hold of her arms as she threatened to tear free.
Her struggles became more frantic as the strokes bore
relentlessly down onto her defenseless bare bottom. Finally her
struggles started to die down as she lost her strength.
At that moment he threw down the crop and pulled down the
jodhpurs freeing his large cock. She couldn't see this of course
and the first she knew of her upcoming rape was when she felt it
pushing against the folds of her pussy.
She tried to twist her hips, anything to get away from the
molestation.
But it was no good. He simply gripped her hips tightly as he
started to ease his cock inside her. Once his cockhead was safely
inside he drew his hips back slightly, "now we'll see who fucks
who bitch," with that he lunged forward using all of his strength
to ram himself deep inside.
(************ (c) 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
*********************)
Just when I thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, I
felt the head of his cock press against my pussy and I tried to
squirm free. I was sure that if I could just shake free and
remove that horrid gag I could convince him that I wasn't
Jennifer. I was sure I could make him realize it was all just a
case of mistaken identity, and that I didn't even know this other
woman... this Jennifer. And, once he realized I wasn't Jennifer
he'd have no reason to rape me.
I struggled to pull away, but he grasped me firmly by my hips,
and his cohorts had me in such a vice-like hold I couldn't even
budge. I tried to brace myself, but my strength was sapped and
if one of the men wasn't holding me up I think my legs would've
buckled right then and there.
At first I just felt the head of his cock at the entrance to my
pussy, then I felt it slip into me, just a little. Suddenly he
shoved forward and sank it full into me in one quick thrust. I
winced and tried once more to pull away, to shake free, but it
was no use.
He was fucking me. I didn't even know his name, and he was
fucking me. Worse yet, he didn't know my name, either. He
thought I was some other girl. He thought he was fucking
Jennifer.
I could feel his cock pistoning in and out of my pussy, but I
could also feel the hands and arms of his accomplices holding me
in place. I could smell their sweat, hear them chiding me and
cheering on the man who was fucking me. It was disgusting,
surreal. I felt lightheaded, nauseous, but I fought to maintain
consciousness, hoping to stave off the rape, hoping they'd remove
my gag and let me explain that I wasn't Jennifer.
Then I suddenly stopped squirming and tried not to think about
it, tried to block it out of my mind, hoping he'd lose interest
in fucking me if I stopped struggling and just let my body go
limp.
I concentrated not on him fucking me, but on how I was going to
explain to him that I wasn't this Jennifer girl he thought I was,
once he gave up on trying to fuck me and removed my gag, that is.
I mean, I'd just explain to him that I was a actually just a
real estate agent, that I was at the Regency, in town for a real
estate conference and that I'd bumped into Jennifer at the hotel
bar. It was just a chance meeting, really -- or so I thought at
the time.
It was no use, I could hear my rapist groan with each thrust. It
was like he was fucking me not for pleasure, but vengeance. I
could feel his balls slapping against my ass with each thrust,
and I had no choice but to shift a bit to better accommodate him,
hoping it would ease the pain and discomfort.
There, that was a little better, at least. Even so, I was hoping
he was wearing down, and that any moment he'd give up and stop
fucking me.
Meanwhile, my thoughts shifted quickly back to the fact that
somehow I'd just have to make him understand that I didn't even
know Jennifer, swear that I'd never met her before that night.
I'd tell him how she was talking to me at the bar and somehow she
must've drugged my drink. Then she must've dyed my hair blond,
put me in her clothes and the next thing I knew, I was on a plane
to...
Oh my God. Where was I? I didn't even know where I was. The
horror of my predicament pressed on me like a blanket.
Well, wherever I was, surely he'd believe me, believe it was all
just a case of mistaken identity, a trick perpetrated by the real
Jennifer. I'd just have to assure him that I didn't hold him in
any way accountable for anything that had occurred up to now,
assure him that he and I were simply victims of the same scam,
and that I'd even help him track down the real Jennifer, if he'd
let me. After all, the bitch had my credit cards, my pincode...
Oh my God, she had my purse, my driver's license and
identification? Even my business cards were in my purse. How
could I prove to this man I wasn't who he thought I was without
any identification?
Well, I'd just have to try, that's all. I mean, I wasn't
Jennifer, and surely he'd realize that for himself once I
explained it all to him. He could phone the Regency and check
for himself that I was registered there. He could phone Phil and
check out my story, satisfy himself that I was who I said I was
and that I was really just a real estate agent who, by the most
unlikely and bizarre set of circumstances, happened to be in the
wrong place at the wrong time...
Suddenly my reverie was interrupted by the feel of him tightening
his grip on my hips, and the telltale urgency of his thrusts. He
was going to cum in me. It suddenly dawned on me that when
Jennifer stole my purse, she not only got my I.D. and credit
cards, she got my diaphragm as well.
My only hope was to somehow struggle free, to dislodge his cock,
but it was no use. I let out another muffled scream, but all I
heard from my captors was laughter as they held me still. Just
then, my rapist groaned and I felt his cock erupt inside me.
I'd tried to block the assault from my mind, but there was no way
I could block his seed from entering my womb. I felt it, felt
each volley as he emptied himself inside me.
The guards had sensed that he was cumming inside me because they
raised me up at that exact moment and looked into my eyes,
grinning sardonically at me and calling me "puta."
It seemed like an eternity before my rapist finally finished
shooting in me, and then awhile longer before I felt his cock
slip out of my pussy. Meanwhile, the guards kept looking into my
eyes and grinning at me, trying to read my reaction.
I'm sure they saw shock and disbelief in my eyes when I felt him
starting to cum in my unprotected womb. Then, my eyes must've
shown utter humiliation, shame and finally resignation. After
all, I wasn't even Jennifer. I wasn't even the one they thought
he'd raped.
Then, to add insult to injury, I felt semen beginning to ooze out
of my pussy and dribble down my thigh, and I felt another surge
of shame and humiliation course through me. I mean, it wasn't
just a drop or two -- it was literally flowing out of me and
running down my leg.
My captors were pointing between my legs, laughing, but still
refusing to release their hold on me, seemingly enjoying exposing
my splayed thighs and the visible evidence dribbling down my
thigh, a testament to the fact that I had just been thoroughly
and unceremoniously fucked by their boss.
I assumed the worst was over, and tried to choke back my anger,
shame and revulsion, waiting for them to finally release me and
remove my gag.
Then I could finally explain to them that I wasn't Jennifer,
offer to help them find her and assure them I didn't hold them
accountable for the 'misunderstanding.'
At that point, I just wanted the nightmare to be over. I vowed
to tell these men whatever I thought would get me the hell out of
there and safely back home again.
Hell, I didn't know where I was or even what day it was. All I
knew for certain was that these men sure as hell had it in for
Jennifer -- and, because they thought I was her, I'd already been
kidnapped, stripped, fondled, abused, spat on, beaten, humiliated
and raped... and maybe even impregnated. Obviously, the sooner I
set them straight that I wasn't Jennifer, the better...
(************* (c) 2001 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
****************)
By the time Lori was pulled upright and spun to face Carlo he had
zipped up his jodhpurs and was again flexing his riding crop
between his hands.
He looked at her tear stained face and then down to her thighs
where his semen still ran in a small stream. He made a remark in
Spanish and they all laughed at her.
Her blush deepened and her sobs became more pronounced.
He stepped close, his nose mere inches away from her face. "You
think you fucked me hey? Well I tell you bitch, you're the one
that is fucked. You see I know where you hid the money, stupid
gringo bitch, you used the same bank I use. A couple of days and
it'll all be mine again and you'll have nothing except a lifetime
of fucking to look forward to."
She tried to pull one of her hands free, to pluck the gag out of
her mouth and to explain to him but all her entreaties ended in
pathetic mewling once they were attenuated by the panties balled
in her mouth.
They stood looking at one another for a long minute, then he
snappedsomething in Spanish and the other men whooped with glee.
Lori's heart sunk into her boots. Without understanding a word of
the language she understood the meaning clear enough. The boss
was finished with her and now he was giving her to the men for
their 'entertainment'.
Tears of bleak despair trickled down her cheeks as they pulled
her roughly away, Carlo's laughter mocking her every step towards
the pit of depravity she had been tipped into, while his cum
stained the insides of her thighs, reminding her of her forced
submission to him.
She was hustled along a jungle path, tripping over roots that
poked up through the thin soil. She felt like she'd been dragged
for miles before they entered a clearing.
In the clearing stood a collection of low sheds and the pungent
stench of harsh chemicals stung her nasal cavities.
Before she got a good look at the place she was hustled into a
small shack in which there was just a mean cot covered with a
thin, stained mattress.
They let go of her arms and for the first time since she awoke
into this hell she was able to jerk the stocking down and pull
the rag out of her mouth. She grimaced when she saw what the rag
consisted of. She'd been tasting Jennifer's crotch for the last
few hours. She thought she was going to be sick.
She turned to her captives and tried pleading with them, "please
I'm not Jennifer, there's been a mistake please tell your boss."
Looks of blank incomprehension crossed their faces. It was
obvious they didn't understand English, desperately she tried to
recall her schoolgirl Spanish as they manhandled her down onto
the cot.
"Por favor, soy la persona incorrecta. No soy Jennifer. D jeme
ir, satisfacer."
She was wasting her time. Their lust was rising and whatever she
said, or whoever she claimed to be, would make no difference.
Their leader had said that she was theirs to fuck and that was an
end to it.
As for her - she just provided the cunt.
She screamed as they tied her spread-eagled on the narrow cot,
her arms and legs pulled wide apart to allow unhindered access to
her writhing body and streaming cunt.
She could hear excited shouts coming from around the compound and
the sound of running feet as her guards started to strip before
her. She screamed again as one of the guards climbed onto the bed
between her snail-tracked thighs. Her cries obviously annoyed one
of the others because he plucked Jennifer's panties from the
floor and jammed them into her mouth, flicking the stocking back
in place.
Knowing what they were, made them taste even fouler and so she
was temporarily distracted trying to push them out with her
tongue just as the guard lunged into her.
He started pumping frantically while the others shouted
encouragement. The room was filling rapidly and they were all
impatient to get between her thighs and cum inside the pretty
Americano bitch.
Who looked just like the pictures in the magazines they jerked
off to.
Tears started to run from Lori's eyes.
(************** (c) 2001 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
*****************)
When the first man crawled on top of me and stuck his cock in me
I tried to twist my body and throw him off of me, but all I
seemed to be doing was increasing his pleasure and I could hear
the other men cheering and laughing at my pathetic attempt to
dislodge him. In fact, the commotion caused by the laughter and
jeers of the onlookers seemed to be attracting even more
spectators.
Attracting more spectators was the last thing I wanted to do, so
I stopped struggling, closed my eyes and pretended I'd passed
out. I didn't have a lot of options, and my hope was that they'd
give up on trying to rape me if I was passed out.
But my feigning unconsciousness didn't seem to deter my rapist
one iota. To him, a fuck was still a fuck, and he just kept up
the same methodical rhythm, in and out, in and out without the
slightest regard for whether I was conscious or not.
No matter, perhaps, after this man finished fucking me the others
would lose interest in raping a woman who was passed out cold on
that dingy, creaking old cot.
The fact that the other man... Carlo, I think they called him,
had already shot his sperm into me at least had served as a
lubricant for this subsequent assault. And just as well. This
man smelled foul and I tried to hold my breath, at least until he
finished.
But he seemed to be in no rush. He just pumped me and pumped me,
using the same monotonous, methodical, unhurried cadence. I
could hear another man calling to him, trying to hurry him along,
but he just plodded on undeterred.
I lost track of time, feeling the unrelenting grind of his cock
pumping in and out of me, wishing he'd hurry up and cum and be
done with it.
For a split second I entertained the thought of grinding up
against him, hoping to hurry him along, but I quickly checked
that thought, not wanting to risk making the experience more
pleasurable for him. I certainly didn't want him coming back for
seconds, and I was hoping, too, that he'd tell his friends I was
a lousy lay and not worth the effort.
But just then I felt him quicken his pace and his breathing
became more ragged. Thank God, this ugly, foul man was finally
going to cum. It disgusted me to feel him finish inside me, but
at least I'd soon be rid of him. Then I felt him cumming inside
me. It was obvious he wanted to make sure he pumped his last drop
of sperm into me by the way he shook my hips as he came.
Except for the sound of him forcing the breath out of me as he
came, I hadn't moved or made a sound, hoping I'd fooled him and
any onlookers into thinking I was passed out.
I felt momentary relief as the sweaty man finally crawled off of
me, but then I heard voices and another man quickly took his
place. I felt his weight on the cot and then his cock enter my
pussy as he lowered himself into position on top of me.
He made a half-hearted attempt to shake me awake, but quickly
gave up and concentrated his efforts on just fucking me. Unlike
his predecessor, this one was in a hurry to finish and I don't
think he lasted more than a minute or so before I felt him
stiffen and pump his seed into me.
I continued to feign unconsciousness as one man after another
took his turn fucking me. How many men fucked me that day, I
can't be sure. I stopped counting after the fifth or sixth one,
but I know there were a lot more than that.
Anyway, it didn't really matter anymore. As I swallowed,
ingesting the foul taste of Jennifer's panties for the umpteenth
time, I thought of her and realized that as long as Carlo and his
cronies believed I was Jennifer, she was home free. I thought
about how desperate she must've been. Desperate enough to drug
another woman, dye her hair and switch clothes and places with
her. I wondered if I could've ever been that ruthless and
desperate, if I were in her place. Then it dawned on me that I
WAS in her place...
(************* (c) 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com **************)
The next two or three days were pretty much a blur. I remember
being untied and helped to the toilet, finally allowed use the
bathroom. Semen was literally flowing down my legs and dripping
onto the rough concrete floor, but I was already past the point
of caring by that time. I didn't even bother to cover myself
from the leering eyes of my captors. I mean, what was the point?
They'd already seen me naked, and they'd already fucked and
fondled me.
I was allowed to shower, and I flushed as much of their spunk out
of my stretched, sore and swollen pussy as I could, but it was no
use. My pussy continued to ooze sperm even after I showered, a
disgusting reminder that I had been reduced to nothing more than
a pathetic cum dump.
Then I was ushered back to my cot, I saw the pool of semen that
must have leaked out of me during the interim, but for some
reason it still didn't quite register with me that so much semen
could be pumped into anyone. Let alone me.
The two guards noticed the pool of sperm, too, looked at me, then
to each other and laughed. One of them grabbed Jennifer's pink
top off the floor and wiped up the semen before sitting me back
down.
They turned and left the room, not even bothering to tie me down.
I guess they figured my spirit was broken. They were right.
Besides, where was I going to go?
I'd tried to explain to them that I wasn't Jennifer, but they
didn't seem to care. And the reward for my efforts was to have
Jennifer's disgusting panties shoved back into my mouth, so I
wasn't going to try that tack a second time.
Perhaps I'd have a chance to reason with them later, but this
didn't seem the time or place to try to plead my case.
I was brought water to drink, but no food. I became so hungry and
my blood sugar was so low that I drifted into a funky dream-like
state and lost track of time and reality. In fact, I was relieved
to be out of it as it numbed my mind and body to the ravages of
my captors.
Vaguely, I remember a procession of men fucking me, one after
another, but I offered no resistance. I just let them fuck me,
and a few of them jerked off into my mouth. They had tried to
force me to suck their cocks, but I just feigned being too drowsy
to accommodate their requests.
Even so, it was disgusting to have them use my mouth as a source
of pleasure and relief.
After awhile I just somehow blocked the whole thing out of my
mind. They had possessed and conquered my body, and there was
nothing I could do about that. But I was determined they
wouldn't conquer and possess my mind...
(********** (c)2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com *****)
"Fucking this bitch is like fucking a hole in the mattress, she
just lies there," one of the guards grumbled as he climbed off of
her supine body.
"I got something to wake her up," smirked the other one, pulling
out two drinking straws that he'd stuffed with cocaine from the
factory. He pushed them up her nostrils and blew hard forcing the
powerful drug deep inside her nasal cavity.
At first Lori just lay there then slowly a transformation took
place. At first her eyes took on a steely glint then her muscles
started to clench. It was as if she was gathering herself
together, ready to strike.
The man climbing on top of her hardly noticed, it was dim in the
cabin and he was probably going to be her last 'customer' for the
night. All he wanted was to get his rocks off then stumble into
his bed, leaving her to deal with the aftermath of his
satisfaction and the cum of untold men that had forced themselves
into her that day.
They were alone.
It was late.
Very late.
In fact it was already far too late for him.
He slumped down on her and started to force himself inside her
oozing pussy, not noticing her hands, which were creeping around
his body. Seeking out the wicked looking knife that was tucked
into the scabbard at the back of his belt.
They lunged together, him with his cock, her with the knife deep
into his back. He started to gurgle and scream but she clapped
her free hand over his mouth as she twisted the knife in his
back.
Once his gurgling had died down and he had gone limp she pushed
him contemptuously off and slid smoothly off the cot. Her
enforced fucking had debilitated her but the cocaine and the huge
surge of adrenaline gave her the strength of ten.
She picked up his Tee shirt which he had thrown on the floor and
tore it in half. The bottom half she tied around her hips barely
covering her crotch and the top half she pulled over her head and
jerked it down to just below the swell of her tits.
She pulled out the knife and then scooped up the sub machine gun
he had leaned against the wall. Standing at the door she stopped
and cocked her head to one side. It was quiet.
Silently she glided out like a panther, melting into the shadows
when a guard came into view. As he passed her she leapt on him
driving her knife deep into his throat and finishing by jerking
his head sideways. She laid him in the shadows and went in search
of the other guard.
He too felt her cold wrath.
Finally she found the gas storage tank and pulled the hose out
and pushed it under the shutters of the largest building in the
complex. She then opened the cock to allow it to pour out, but
not so much as to alert anyone with the sound.
Once this was accomplished she flitted out of the compound,
running noiselessly down the jungle path on which she had entered
her personal hell three long days before.
She seemed to know exactly where to go and after a few twists and
turns she bypassed the airfield and fetched up against a white
painted mansion incongruously grafted into the virgin jungle.
Three guards stood on watch when she arrived.
Three guards lay dead five minutes later.
She climbed agilely up the side of the house using the creepers
that were trying to reclaim the house as their own.
The French Windows of the master bedroom were thrust wide open
and she glided inside.
She could see the dark shapes in the bed. She moved to the
smaller one and using the haft of the knife she knocked the girl
unconscious then dropped over the man with her ass on his chest
and her thighs cradling his head.
"Qu ? Qui n es se?" he mumbled as he struggled to awaken.
"Your worst nightmare," she said simply, "now give me the
combination of the safe."
"Whoever you are you're fucking dead," he snarled.
She put the gun to his head and cocked the action, "if you don't
give me the combination to the safe, its you who's dead."
He tried to struggle upright but she forced him down clamping his
head with her cum smeared thighs.
"Combination, you fucker. You got two seconds or you die."
He got in out in three.
"Nice try but no cigar," she smirked as she crushed his mouth and
nose into her crotch. He thrashed and bucked but she held him
tight as he literally drowned in the sea of cum that was oozing
out of her overused pussy.
After a few minutes his strenuous exertions died down and he fell
limp. She checked his pulse. He was stone dead.
"Now who has fucked who?" she muttered as she slid off him. She
checked the pulse of the girl - she was alive. Looking closer she
saw the girl was only twelve or so. The fucker had deserved to
die.
She slipped over to the concealed safe and soon had it open, she
then removed the contents and thrust them into a briefcase that
she had found by the bed.
The girl was coming round so Lori softly clamped a hand over her
mouth and whispered "Shhhh!"
She saw the girl's eyes go wide and felt her starting to shake in
terror.
"No est asustado. Estoy aqu ayudar. Usted habla ingl s?"
whispered Lori.
"A little," said the girl.
"OK listen where are your parents?"
"He...." She stopped and looked at the guy in panic.
"Don't worry he won't bother you again, now where are they?"
"They are dead," she sobbed, "he killed them."
"Fucker," snarled Lori, "Ok I want you to get dressed and follow
me, can you do that?"
The girl nodded.
They slipped out of the house by the side entrance. Lori only had
to take two guards out, one from a range of twenty yards with the
first one's knife.
They slipped down to the small airstrip.
The plane was standing waiting for its next run with only three
guards on duty. One of them she recognized as her first rapist.
She walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder,
"Remember me," she said and as the recognition dawned on his face
she jammed the knife under his chin and straight into his brain.
The other two guards ran over to see what the fuss was about and
she threw two knives, which ended their curiosity permanently.
Minutes later she was in the cockpit.
The old DC3 took time to fire up but once going it ran as sweet
as a bird as it thundered down the airstrip. Just as they took
off she slid open the window and fired a distress flare down at
the large hut in the clearing. It flew through the thatch and a
huge ball of flame lit the sky for miles around as iterupted....
(*********** (c) 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
***********************)
The rain spattered against the window and the occasional burst of
wind rattled the frame.
Sir George T stood in front of the window staring out at the gray
London evening and the late commuters scurrying under cover
inside Waterloo station. He sipped his tea and had just laid the
cup back in the saucer when there was a discrete tap on thedoor.
"Come," he said and the door immediately opened.
"I thought you should see this as a matter of urgency," said the
lanky newcomer, "so I came straight over."
Sir George held his hand out and glanced at the name on the
file-tag.
Carlo Ortega.
He laid the file down and bid the newcomer to sit before sitting
himself.
"Would you like a cup of tea? I think we can squeeze one more out
of the pot."
"No thank you. Can I make an observation? You don't seem
surprised."
"I'm not, I've known about this for weeks."
"Weeks? But the Columbian government only released this
information to Washington a day or so ago, as proof of their good
intentions regarding the billions that Clinton pumped into their
anti drugs war."
Sir George smiled, "let me guess. Carlo Ortega, 46 years old,
previously unknown but who turned out to be the leading figure
behind the Cali Cocaine cartel. Their equivalent of the Capo di
Capi. And two weeks ago he found dead in his own bed with one of
his drugs factories destroyed. Am I close?"
"Absolutely spot on, but how did you know?"
"Simple my dear fellow we did it?"
"We did?"
"Yes and not only that we got the names, addresses and turnover
of every one of his dealers in both Europe and the USA."
The visitor was obviously stunned; Sir George smiled and dipped
his digestive biscuit into his tea before continuing, "which is
why the Columbians took two weeks to tell the US about it. You
see we only told them about it a few days ago. Giving us ,and the
DEA, time to mop up the dealers. Of course the Americans smiled
sweetly and feigned ignorance when the Columbians gave them the
news, but they did envy us our little coup. There's life in the
old dog yet eh?"
"Amazing," said his visitor admiringly, "but..."
"You want to know how?"
"Well yes, that is if I need to know."
"I don't think there is much danger to the operative. She's long
gone."
"She?"
"Yes a very remarkable agent. You don't know this but in the
sixties and seventies we had a very covert operation going in the
US. Remember at that time we weren't sure which way Kennedy would
swing. As it happens the Missile Crisis showed us he was ok, even
if he was Irish," he smiled. "By that time the operation, called
'rebirth' by the way, was well under way and so we decided to
keep it up. The premise was simple, we took orphans and trained
them from a very early age in sabotage, assassination and counter
assassination. Then we had them 'adopted' by some very loyal
families. The indoctrination and subliminal training was kept up
over the years without the agents even being aware."
He stopped to sip his tea, emptying his cup. He picked up the pot
and held it up, "are you sure?" he enquired with a cocked
eyebrow. His visitor shook his head impatient for the story to
continue.
Sir George filled his cup, poured the milk and stirred it in
before he continued; "in total we had over forty agents in place
all across continental USA."
"Remarkable."
"Hmm indeed and what made it even more remarkable was the fact
that they didn't even know they were agents. As far as they were
concerned they were loyal American citizens, believing
whole-heartedly in Mom and Apple Pie. All we needed to do was
activate them and they would strike with no fear and afterwards
they wouldn't even know they'd done it."
"So how did you 'activate' them?"
"It depended on the subject. In this case the subject is a real
estate agent and so we just had to pass her the house details of
a property called 'Der Adler Schl gt An' which is German for 'the
Eagle Strikes', which you must agree is a very unusual name for a
property. We'd put the target's name on it, in the guise of the
owner, and a brief description. To the uninitiated it looked
perfectly normal but to her it triggered her first trip point.
She was then locked on target but didn't know it. She still lived
her 'normal' life until her last two trips were triggered."
"Which were?"
"In her case the first was seeing the target and the second was
inhaling cocaine."
"Cocaine?"
"Hmm yes, we had programmed her to target drug dealers and we
thought they'd end up using some of it on her at some point if
she was, say, captured. Anyway it was a risk we had to take."
"But what if she had tried some at a party?"
"Not a problem, she had to have the three triggers in the right
order before she went into kill mode. Obviously our girl did at
some point during her captivity."
"She was captured?"
"Yes it was the only way we could guarantee getting her in. What
started it was when one of our men got close to a drug dealer
called Jennifer something. He somehow persuaded her to abscond
with over $4 million of the Cartel's money and then swapped her
for our agent."
"Did you tell the agent?"
"Good Lord no. We wanted her to act perfectly naturally until the
final trigger so she knew nothing. In fact she still doesn't."
The visitor cocked an eyebrow.
"After the operation she flew to one of our bases in Belize with
some little Indian girl, who was adopted as the base mascot by
the way. It's quite touching to see 250-pound special ops
sergeants carrying her round camp on their shoulders. Our agent
was debriefed, drugged, had her hair dyed back and her pregnancy
terminated."
"Pregnancy?"
"Oh yes she was raped apparently. The M.O was surprised she could
walk let alone fight. A remarkable woman."
"What happened then?"
"It was all very civilized really. She was 'detriggered' and sent
back to her old job, which is one of our front operations
incidentally. She doesn't even know what she's done. She thinks
she was involved in a minor traffic accident that knocked her out
for a few days."
"Remarkable and what happened to the drug dealer, Jennifer wasn't
it?"
"Yes we dealt with her quite firmly. You see, we'd tipped off the
Swiss and when she turned up to collect the money she'd stolen
the Police were waiting for her. They didn't want any fuss so
they handed her over to us. She is now, how can I put it, serving
her sentence in a German Brothel servicing the Turkish
'guestworkers'. The irony is that we arranged for all her
earnings to be wired into our agent's account every month. She
was told it is the interest on a small legacy a long lost
relative had bequeathed her. We've even got the valuables back
that Jennifer had pawned."
"And so no damage was done?"
"Not really. There was another woman, I don't recall her name,
she was lifted by one of our teams as she threatened the
operation. Then she was 'rescued' by the local Police a few hours
later, no harm done. Of course our team was long gone by then."
"So where is the agent now?"
Sir George looked at his watch, "given the time difference she is
probably showing someone around one of those awful clapboard
townhouses that are so popular over there."
"And she knows nothing?"
"Nothing."
"Remarkable."
"Indeed."
********************* (c) 2001 Spoonbender@hotmail.com
So how was it for you? Email me at Spoonbender@hotmail.com