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1 Heather Duncan did the Southern California thing for the day. She rented a BMW roadster and went town to town, parking and walking, shopping when it pleased her, and sitting on the beach when the urge to do that came along. It was the kind of relaxing day that she had not known for some time. She had dropped off her microfilm with a F.I.T operative first thing in the morning, then checked into a seaside motel. From there she had done some shopping, and even took time to drink a beer. It was a typical day. High was to be 84, with a soft ocean breeze. She wore a pair of lightweight white shorts, with light brown platform sandals, and a sleeveless, light blue cotton shirt, with a plunging blue V cut in front.
By mid afternoon she had had her fill, and made her way back to the motel. She was about to change into her spandex outfit and embark on her daily yoga routine, but wanted to check her email account first. There was no chatter on the secure F.I.T account, but she decided to check her personal email. It was held under a fictitious name. Not even the agency knew of it. Mostly it was used to communicate with her sister Sam, and a few other close friends.
She was somewhat surprised to see a handful of messages, all from the same anonymous sender. At first she thought they were probably spam, but curiosity got the best of her. The first thing she noticed when she opened one was the link to a file-sharing site. There was a note with it that said simply “Friends and Family.” The file was a 7-part file, and all seven had to be downloaded and connected to form the large single file. Heather chuckled, wondering what friend had been clever enough to put something like this together. She decided to use the agency credit card to purchase an account because she realized such a large file would take the better part of the day to download.
As it was, it still took a good 15 minutes to download the multiple files. At last she connected the files, coming up with a single WMV file. She clicked on the icon and lay across the bed, the laptop in front of her, to view it. It was a high definition clip, and rather simply done. “What’s That Buzz?” the title flashed across the screen. “Starring–Alicia Monroe.” Heather smiled at the name of her sisters best friend. She assumed this was something they put together at school. “Featuring–Sam-I-Am,” it continued. “This film has to be watched in its entirety. If you try to fast forward, it will revert to the point where it was previously. We cannot guarantee that no-one was harmed in the making of this film. Now then, grab some popcorn and enjoy.”
This part was puzzling. Sam did not have a particularly morbid sense of humor. Heather thought there was something wrong with the audio as the noise was muffled. The film started with a pointed set of toes just inches off a wooden floor. They were lovely pink painted toenails, and seemed to be quivering, as if straining to touch the floor. The camera panned up the foot, the toes curling and spreading apart slightly. Heather gasped. At the ankle, there was rope. Thin rope cutting into the flesh, knotted on the outside of the ankle with the trailing end vanishing from view. The camera continued up past the ankles, the slender calf, the knee, the tanned thigh. As the camera rose Heather could now see that the leg was angled back and out away from whatever the victim was seated on. Now a second form was introduced. Heather gasped again. More tight cord fastened the two obviously female forms together at the waist. The camera panned back slightly. They were fastened belly-to-belly with tight, thin cord. It was apparent the cord had been cinched together across their bellies in front, then those cinch cords went down and around something. As the camera continued back Heather could see that the cord went around some type of a bar. The two had been bound together with their legs tied widely apart and somewhat back, and were forced down onto some sort of a bar or rod a few inches in diameter. Next the camera zeroed in on a pair of wrists, also tightly bound. The fingers wiggled slightly, but mostly they were still. The camera panned down the arms to the elbows. Heather winced. They were tied so tightly together with thin sisal that a portion of the cord appeared buried in the flesh. Once again the camera panned back slowly. Heather could see that the arms were bound behind the back, and raised at a painful angle putting strain on the victims shoulders. The camera panned down the back of the first figure, streaks of sweat flowing over the slender hips and down the thighs. It then moved more to the side, and slowly traversed upwards past the rib cages pressed firmly together. The breasts began to come into view. They too were pressed tightly against one another. A hand appeared for the sole purpose of separating the breasts just far enough for Heather to see that the nipples of each girl were tied together where they met with thin cord. The camera continued up, and panned out. Heather’s mouth dropped open. There, with their mouths pressed practically together, jaws strapped to a double penis gag, were Samantha Duncan and Alicia Monroe. As the camera panned back, Heather noticed for the first time a background humming noise. Finally she could take in the scene in its entirety. The girls were bound belly to belly, then forced to straddle a rail mounted between two supports, with their sex firmly planted on that rail and forced down onto it by the cinch cord from the bellies. Their ankles angled back and out and down in such a fashion to further force them down onto the rail. Then the arm bondage re-enforced their predicament. Their thighs glistened in the bright media lighting, and Heather knew it wasn’t entirely from perspiration.
“Quite a lovely pair don’t you think?” came Mallory’s voice as she walked into view.
Heather about choked. She certainly knew how to play a role. She was dressed like a professional dominatrix in a leather thong, thigh-high stiletto heels, and peekaboo bra which exposed her stiff nipples. Mallory ran her hands down each girls thigh, pushing against them to show how strenuously wide each leg had been spread. The two teens seemed to be in a heightened state of arousal.
“So Duncan, you remember that stuff that was developed some time ago as a having possible communications ramifications. It was a type of titanium hybrid?” Mallory continued.
Heather nodded, as if she was being spoken to within the room.
“It was finally moth-balled in favor of the fiber optic revolution, but our organization still owns a good bit of it,” she said touching the bar the two girls were straddling. “We found that by introducing any type of metal to the mixture, in this case it’s flecks of aluminum, it increased the products ability to respond to certain outside forces dramatically. For instance, when we set this dial to a low setting, as it is now, it sends vibrations into that bar which then doubles the effect. And it increases exponentially.”
The camera zoomed in as Mallory turned the dial clockwise. The humming increased, as did the reactions of the two troubled girls riding the apparatus.
“At this level, the output is four times the input,” Mallory said smiling.
The camera panned up, closing in on each girls face. Their eyes were clenching shut, drool spilling from each mouth fell onto their chests and ran together. The camera then panned back, focusing on each of the girls legs. They were trembling, both from strain, and from the pleasures assaulting their bodies. The girls moans became more audible as the vibrations increased. Alicia was straining her toes against the thin coarse cord, trying in vain to gain purchase of the floor, but to no avail. The girls came numerous times, each one following closely on the heels of the last as the wicked pole never allowed either girl a moment to recover. If one girls pleasure seemed to lag a bit, Mallory would reach her hand between their legs and with her middle finger and fore-finger, force the lips of their labia down around more of the pole. Any respite that may have been allowed the victim stood no chance against the added sensations forced on her by these actions. As if anything could be left to doubt, the camera dropped down towards the floor, then panned up both sets of tanned legs so Heather could see exactly what was happening to each of the girls up where they rested on the pole. Each girls sex went practically halfway around the pole, meaning every sensitive area of flesh made contact with it.
“OK Duncan,” Mallory said turning the control dial up another notch, “let’s get down to business. As much as I’d like our guests to stay a while, it’s really your company we desire. So if you were to make yourself available, I will assure you we would agree to part company with Sweet Alicia and the luscious Sam-I-Am.”
Mallory walked over to the girls and brushed the hair away from their faces.
“In the meantime, we will use this opportunity to incorporate these lovely lasses into some of our more intensive training sessions,” Mallory continued.
She walked away from the girls and towards the camera, her heels clacking against the floor.
“The next step is yours Sweetheart,” Mallory smiled. “I’m rather certain you can figure out how to make contact with us.”
“Until then....” Mallory finished, blowing a kiss towards the camera.
With that, she turned and returned towards the girls, her lovely ass swaying back and forth as she went. The screen fade out with that last bit of theater, leaving Heather speechless. She climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom afraid she might hyperventilate. She started to curse herself, but then stopped. That would serve no purpose. What mattered was that her sister and best friend had fallen into the clutches of some of the world’s worst villains, and for now, she was their only hope. Panic now, and their could be even worse things ahead. She needed to think clearly. Using methods taught her in training, she lowered her heart-rate and slowed her breathing. Then she began to go through her options. An hour later she had formulated an outline of what needed to happen. A select few of her closest confidants would have to find out what was going on. But not those at the top. They would have to wait. Her first call went to her close friend Keri Thompkins.
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“Are you OK?” Keri asked.
Heather nodded. They had just watched the video together.
“I don’t know,” Keri said. “I can do some analysis on it freelance. I’m sure they were careful, but we have developed some rather amazing technologies.”
Heather again nodded.
“Look, let me download this, take it with me, and I’ll run it through some locator programs,” she said. “I’ll call you first thing in the morning.”
Heather sighed, and nodded.
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Mallory Marcott pulled up on the nipples of the helpless brunette then released them, laughing as she toppled over onto the floor.
“You’re such a klutz,” she chided Alicia.
Klutz probably didn’t describe the situation aptly. Remaining seated under the circumstances would have required an almost superhuman effort. Alicia was once again uncomfortably bound. She was naked except for the red leather high heel pumps she wore. Mallory had bound her yoga style, her feet resting on the opposite leg where her upper thigh met her hip. Her ankles were bound where they crossed with black rubber coated wire. The wire pulled her ankles up near her belly by more of the same, which looped over a brutally tight waist cinch. It then dove southward, slicing through her cunt before coming out the back and attaching to Alicia’s wrists. More of the black wire held the girls elbows glued together and fastened to a harness of the stuff that framed her jutting breasts in a bra shaped fashion. In her mouth was a ball gag at least an inch bigger than she should have been able tolerate, and pulled so deeply it seemed to begin where her tonsils left off. The act of falling over caused her wrists to jerk against their bindings, which in turn pulled the wire even deeper into her cunt.
There was a commotion at the door, and Mallory turned to see what it was. A woman and a man entered, the woman carrying a bound and gagged Samantha over her shoulder, followed closely by the man. The tiny blonde was bound with leather, wrists to ankles in front of her. Further up her elbows were lashed tightly to her knees She was gagged with her own long, blonde hair wrapped twice around her mouth and knotted. Dirt and scratches, along with a sheen of sweat, covered her lovely form. The girl carrying Samantha was an impressive specimen. She had long dark brown hair to the middle of her back, and striking blue eyes. There was a glint to the eyes that was both intelligent and devious, and it came with a physique that could only be obtained with regimented exercise. She wore a stylish straw cowboy hat, short denim cut offs, comfort style leather cowboy boots, and a light blue athletic top. She tossed the helpless blonde bundle to the floor near Mallory.
“Nicely done, Jamie,” Mallory beamed.
“Only took her a minute and a half,” the man smiled. “She’s good. We filmed it as you asked.”
Mallory inspected the bonds for a minute, then dismissed the woman.
“Want her to try out this one?” the man said motioning towards Alicia.
“No, I think I’ve seen enough. Tell Jamie to take the afternoon off, and let her keep the little blonde,” Mallory said, walking towards the tightly bound brunette. “I think we’ll give the twins a shot at this one. A little tune-up for what I have in mind.”
The man smiled.
“Oh yes, the twins,” he grinned. “They’ve progressed quite nicely. Think they’re up for that kind of challenge?”
“We shall see,” Mallory grinned.
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“I have some good news,” Keri’s voice came over the phone. “Of course, you have to realize there wasn’t much to go on, but we feel there were some clues.”
Heather let out a sigh of relief. Technology could do some amazing things. Pinpointing a location within a few yards of any point on the globe with just a bit of video was astounding.
“All right, shoot,” Heather replied.
Then for the next fifteen minutes, she listened
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Samantha whimpered as the thin leather attached to her nipples was pulled on again, prompting her tongue to move at an even faster pace through the horrid ring gag tightly fastened in her mouth. She knelt on the floor, coarse hemp rope binding her biceps behind her back. Her wrists were free, but that minor luxury did her no good. Her arms were so tightly bound that her elbows pressed against one another, her numbed arms below that point splayed out slightly, fingers mostly still. Her big toes had been tied together, and the trailing end brought up to the back of the gag. This accomplished a couple of things her captor found useful. One, it kept her in the submissive kneeling pose, and two, it forced her head sharply back, providing an angle that Jamie found delightfully suitable for servicing her. Samantha was nude, her slender body still slightly dirty from the rough handling Jamie had given her earlier, and still sweaty from her exertions. For the time being, she was the sole guest of Jamie’s in a small but nice room in a bunkhouse of sorts.
Jamie’s hand was tangled in the young blonde’s long hair, pulling her face into her crotch. Samantha had never before performed oral sex on a male, let alone another woman. Jamie’s muscular thighs pressed together forcing Samantha’s nose to ride against the neatly shaved flesh. Her tongue wagged back and forth over the swollen clitoris as rapidly as she could, her actions bringing obvious pleasure to her captor. Again Jamie pulled harshly on the leather. They were thin leather thongs in an Indian motif, with turquoise beads and feathers adorning the length of them. Loops in the end had been tightened over the blonde girls nipples and tightened down, preventing the hardened flesh from retreating out of their confinement. Her small lovely breasts jiggled with her exertions except when Jamie tugged on them. Then they stretched up to tickle the insides of the brunettes thighs where she stood, her legs straddling the tiny blondes folded legs, and served to excite Jamie further.
After what seemed an eternity, the brunette shook with the throes of pleasure, her strong hand threatening to tear chunks of blonde hair out by the roots. Eventually she released Samantha’s hair, the frightened girl clenching her eyes as spools of drool spilled off her chin.
“Not bad for a blonde slut,” Jamie snarled, pulling her denim cutoffs back on and buttoning them below her muscular abdomen.
She pulled her blue and yellow flower patterned bra back over her shoulders, having pulled it down earlier to expose her large breasts, and slipped her straw cowboy hat back on.
Jamie came back over and knelt in front of the bound girl. Her fingers sought out Samantha’s labia, spreading the lips apart enough to insert a finger. Samantha protested at the unwanted invasion, but Jamie persisted, rubbing her finger around until she could feel the girls natural lubrication begin to coat it. She rubbed a bit more, then removed her finger, sticking it into the girls mouth, held widely open via the ring gag. Samantha drooled even more heavily at the humiliation of having to taste her own juices.
Jamie laughed at the young girls plight, then removed her finger, walked around behind her, and untied the cord connecting her bound toes to the gag in back.
She hauled the girl to her feet by her hair.
“Let’s get you cleaned up a bit,” Jamie laughed. “I may want to use you later and you’re starting to stink a bit.”
The two headed towards a crude shower room, the leather thongs swinging back and forth from Samantha’s tits.
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Alicia Monroe ran. It winded her to do so because the four inch ball gag crammed into her mouth made such an endeavor more laborious than normal. Her gag was strapped and padlocked in place making its removal a near impossibility without the key. Her barbell nipple piercing had been replaced with a tiny silver bell on a stainless ring slipped through, then the ends lightly soldered to keep her from removing it. She was nearly naked. A way too small white half-T just barely covered her breasts, and a scant black thong covered her privates. The half-T had holes cut out where her nipples poked through, allowing the bell to ring lightly as she ran. She wore a pair of moccasins on her feet that she could feel the heat of the ground through them as she ran. She actually thought she had a chance; that mistaken optimism born of the fact that she was athletic. The reality was the odds were stacked.
The sagebrush was thick, but not tall enough to conceal her completely. And she wasn’t entirely sure of who she was running from. Her long legs would carry her a ways, the tiny bells jingling from her nipples, then she would duck down behind the brush for a time and listen. This scene repeated itself a number of times, and still she saw no-one. She had made her way for a quarter of a mile, the sweat beginning to roll off her flesh in the high desert air. Again she knelt, again nothing. She stood and looked about, her hands testing the tight leather strap holding the gag in place. She cursed it, then again began to run. Suddenly a shaft of wood appeared in front of her, tripping her to the ground. She yelped in surprise, then hurriedly got to her feet. She was startled to see a figure rise from behind a sage-bush. It was a girl, probably about her age. She was Oriental, and rather busty, and incredibly beautiful. Alicia stared at her briefly. There was a smile that seemed both cold and devious, and Alicia realized this was no friend. Again she took off running, but once again she was tripped, this time from a different shaft of wood. She rolled to her back and looked up into the face of the same girl, and her eyes widened. How could she have done that? It seemed impossible for the girl to have moved so quickly as to get clear around to the other side of her.
She got to her feet and started to sprint in the opposite direction, but there she was again. She spun around.... There were two of them. TWINS!! They had to be. Each held in her hand a wooden shaft about an inch in diameter, and four feet long. As she looked on they both twirled the shafts in a fashion as might a ninja. As she turned to run one of them lashed out and stuck Alicia on the butt. It stung mightily, but did no real damage. She turned to run in the other direction but the opposite girl twirled her shaft and thrust it at an angle down to the ground, and Alicia tripped over it, sprawling once again to the ground. She got up to run again, but the butt of the shaft struck her again in the small of the back. She spun around and was struck in the belly, nearly driving the wind from her. She clutched her stomach, rolling over to her knees. That was when the next blow caught her at the base of the skull. It wasn’t enough to knock her out, but it rendered her completely helpless. She was face down on the hot ground moaning through her gag. She was vaguely aware of on of the girls pressing the end of the staff against the base of her skull and pressing down to keep her still. The other girl placed her staff across Alicia’s back, then pulled her limp arms up and around it so that it sat in the crook of her elbows. She was pulled to a seated position while her wrists were bound tightly together in front with leather. Because of the wooden staff, her wrists could not meet in front, but that didn’t stop the girl from trying to get them there.
She was seated on the ground, helplessly bound as the two girls laughed and giggled and spoke to one another in their native tongue. Alicia was pulled to her feet. One of the twins grabbed another length of leather and knotted it to the waistband of her thong bottoms. The free end was brought up and over the leather connecting her wrists and pulled on sharply. She cried out as her bottoms were forced deep inside her. It was like the wedgie from hell. The two girls next made quick work of the half-T, leaving the shredded bits to flutter in the hot dry wind. With Alicia’s breasts thrust out in front like ornaments on a car hood, the three made their way back towards the ranch.
Mallory was just finishing a light lunch when the trio walked in.
“Ahh, another successful hunt,” Mallory chuckled.
She stood from the table and walked to the frightened girl.
“Nice touch,” she commented, tugging at the waistband of the thong panties.
That brought another squeal from Alicia.
“Good job girls,” Mallory smiled. “We’ll talk this evening about a little chore I have for you.” “Just one more thing.”
She walked back towards the table and sat down.
“As you can see, I’m enjoying my lunch,” Mallory said. “And I hate to be disturbed while eating.”
The twins looked at one another and nodded. Alicia groaned as the wooden staff once again slammed against her back, propelling her to the floor. The girls quickly and efficiently looped leather around each of the young girls ankles. The thin lengths were brought up and through a pre-drilled hole at each end of the staff Alicia’s elbows were draped over. Then her ankles were yanked up and bound to each end of the pole, arching and spreading her legs, and allowing the “wedgie” to sink even deeper within her. When the twins were done, they were dismissed with a wave of Mallory’s hand. Alicia grunted and groaned in her stringent bondage until the stare from Mallory reminded her that things could still get worse. At that point, she stopped struggling, and as best she could, remained still and quiet while her captor finished her meal.
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Heather Duncan set the binoculars down and took a swig from the water bottle. She marveled at what technology could do, but she had her doubts about this. Abandoned airfields in West Texas didn’t fit the F.I.R.M modus operandi. It made for a good cover, but she had watched the place now for almost half a day, and there was nothing to discern. Dressed in her desert camo’s, she finally decided to backtrack and take a ravine that ran up close to a cluster of old hanger’s. She wasn’t going to waste a lot of time chasing down leads that weren’t productive.
It took her over an hour to make the journey, and she was thankful she had brought as much water as she had, for there was little to break the glare of the hot August sun. She crept up towards one of the buildings, its tin siding creaking somewhat in the breeze. Putting her back against the hot building, she pulled her Glock 19 from her side, and made her way in through a slightly ajar door. It was apparent immediately there was no activity there. Heather cursed quietly, retreating out the way she came. The next two buildings produced the same results, and she was becoming irritated she had allowed herself this futile exercise. That had been one of the lessons at the training academy. Never allow emotional issues to interfere with professional performance. She was pretty sure she had severely violated that tenet.
In a small building she checked the ground for any recent sign of activity There was simply nothing there. So it was that when her shoulders slumped as she turned to go, she was stunned to see a female figure, dressed in black, standing in her way. She couldn’t believe she had slipped in without making a sound. Neither said a word. The girl was young and beautiful. That was not something that needed studying to ascertain. She had long dark to her waist, pulled back into a ponytail. Her body was marvelously contoured, with large melon-shaped breasts, and the almond shaped eyes indicating oriental ancestry.
Heather raised her gun.
“Who are you?” she queried.
The girl said nothing.
“Not talking are we?” Heather continued, her feet spreading out and her body assuming a more intimidating posture.
The girl followed her with her dark eyes.
“Raise you hands,” Heather commanded.
Still nothing.
“Did you hear me, raise your hands,” she said more loudly.
The girl smiled.
There was a whirring sound and before Heather could react a weighted length of leather whipped around her wrists, and was jerked tight, the gun clattering from her hands and onto the concrete floor. The girl quickly kicked it safely away. Heather turned, to see where this new threat came from, at the same time freeing her wrists. Her jaw dropped. Was she seeing double? Her wrists freed, she ran at the second girl, executing a spinning roundhouse at the adversary. It was spot on, but at the last minute the girl ducked out of the way rendering it harmless. Heather landed and remained crouched in an athletic stance. The two girls moved to opposite sides of Heather. As she sensed one close, she gave a side kick that landed square. The girl gave a grunt, but as she did, Heather got a kick that caught her flush in the side. It hurt like hell and Heather tried to buy a minute. It didn’t work. Her opponents knew they had an advantage in numbers, and weren’t about to give the blonde time to recuperate. Heather ducked under a backhand from one of the girls, and sidestepped a kick form the other, but a spinning backhand caught her on the cheekbone. A kick landed flush on her thigh, but Heather retaliated with a solid counter to the mid-section. She knew she was doing damage, but the young girls were good. Heather doubted she could prevail in the long run. She spun off a trio of roundhouse kicks, then bolted for the door.
She heard another whirring sound and felt another weighted cord wrap around her right wrist. She turned, and grabbed a hold of the thin leather cord, attempting to pull the girl holding it off balance. Another whirring sound and another cord whipped around her left ankle, making ineffective her efforts to topple the first girl. Heather winced. She looked down at her wrist and realized there were tiny barbs embedded in the leather. As long as there was tension on the cord it would be impossible to remove. The girls pulled in opposite directions. The girl holding the cord wrapped around Heather’s wrist, held the cord with one hand, and tossed the long excess over a 2X4 support in the roof. She grabbed the free end and pulled hard, jerking Heather’s arm into the air, then quickly tied it off to an eye-bolt in the wall. The other girl pulled on her line as well, taking a wrap around an exposed wall stud. She pulled until Heather was awkwardly stretched, then tied it off as well. Heather tried grabbing for her wrist, but it was too far away. The two came at her, and she tried to keep them at bay with her free hand. For a few fleeting moments they toyed with her, but then another barbed cord wound around her free hand, and that was that. While one of the girls held that cord, the other approached the squirming and cursing blonde and slipped a final cord around her neck, tossing the free end up over another ceiling joist, and snugging it up. Most of the struggling stopped at this point. Heather wisely calculated that if she lost her already precarious footing, she might wind up a statistic. The young girls looked at one another, nodded and smiled. For a moment everyone caught their collective breaths, then the two approached Heather.
The girl who had received the punch to the mid-section returned the favor, driving much of the wind from the blonde. She slumped only slightly, the cord around her neck keeping her in place. A knife came out. It wasn’t just any knife but one obviously only to be used for serious work. Gleaming and razor sharp at the tip, with serrations towards the handle, it immediately got Heather’s attention. With a pace that was not slow, yet not hurried, the girl cut every button from Heather’s shirt. One by one they clattered onto the floor. The sleeves were next, then lastly the remaining lapels in front. The shirt dropped free. The pants came next. They were cut free with less fanfare, but soon they joined the tattered shirt. The boots and socks followed until she wore only her underwear. She had worn ordinary white panties and bra. Fieldwork called for practicality more than anything else. Practical or not, they joined the rest of her clothes on the floor, leaving Heather completely naked, except for her cap. When it was removed, her long blonde hair, which had been wound up and tucked underneath, spilled down her back and over her breasts in front.
The girl holding the wrist leash kept tension on it and walked behind the stationary blonde, bringing Heather’s arm around behind her as she went, then tied the leash off. She approached a rusty file cabinet it one corner of the room, and opened it, drawing from it two strange looking leather mitts. Walking back to the naked blonde, she fastened the first one around her left wrist. It fastened with a buckle at a point just covering the hand, and laced up on the palm side. When the laces were drawn tight, it held the thumb and fingers in a tight point that allowed no movement of either. At the tip of the mitt was a stainless steel ring sewn into the material. Heather’s right wrist was untied from it’s stretched out position, pulled across behind her so her arms were in an “X” shape in back, then it too was fastened in an identical mitt. From the ring at the tip of the second mitt was a leather strap some eight feet long. The strip of leather was threaded through the ring of the opposite mitt, then Heather’s arms were released from their tethers, and the cord peeled from her wrists. As soon as the tethers were released, the leather connecting the mitts was pulled on hard, bringing the blonde girls hands around toward her front from the opposite sides of her body. The leather was run back through the ring from where it originated, and several more inches of slack were obtained. A few more hard jerks, and the end was tied off, leaving Heather to feel as if she were giving herself a painful reverse bear-hug. A wide black leather belt was fastened around her elbows where they crossed in the middle of her back, and the blonde girl looked down to see her breasts thrusting forward from the strain. But there was worse to come. Leather cuffs were fastened tightly around each ankle. These too had stainless rings on them. Finally the neck cord was loosened, allowing Heather to assume a more comfortable position. It was indicated she sit on the floor, and when she balked for a moment, she was given two strokes across her tits with the barbed cord, bringing about her compliance. She was directed to sit in a yoga-like posture with her left foot cradled in the crook formed where her right thigh separated from her hip, and her right foot on the opposite side, but likewise cradled. More leather was produced and fastened to the rings on each of the ankle cuff. These were run through their corresponding ankle loops, bringing Heather left hand and left foot together at her right hip, and right foot and right hand together at her left hip. Heather had been content to not comment during her binding, but this stringent position brought some sharp words directed at the young oriental captors, and as a result, a four inch harness gag made its way in front of her clenched mouth. A handful of blonde locks, and a harshly pinched nipple unclenched it, and the gag was forced in, then brutally fastened in place. Over that went a foam panel gag, silencing over the most energetic attempts at sound. More thin black leather was produced, and even though Heather could barely move, they continued to apply them at numerous places around her bare body. Around her upper arms and body, above and below the breasts. All were tightened until no more slack could be played out. As a final act of redundancy, they doubled her over, squashing her into the most compact of balls, and running more leather around her folded body to keep her as such. When they were done the twins inspected their job, twisting their blonde victim to and fro. One of them spoke something in Japanese and they rolled Heather onto her back. One of the girls held her, while the other ran her finger up inside Heather’s cunt, running it around like she was rubbing honey off the lip of a jar. She withdrew it and again spoke in her foreign tongue, bringing a laugh from her sister. They left the tightly bound blonde like that, on her back and unable to move, and exited the building. In the distance, Heather could her the sound of an approaching aircraft. She cursed herself, and tried to fight against the harsh leather bindings, but it was like fighting against steel. Cursing her lack of judgement, she lay still. Wasting energy would not get her any closer to freedom. She could hear the plane taxi up near the building, and she closed her eyes.
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In a large open area inside an adobe structure, Mallory directed Hugo, Marcus and Jerome to bring the crate into the middle of the room. She had summoned a portion of her immediate staff, as well as their two recent acquisitions, Samantha and Alicia, to witness the event. The two teens stood naked and ball gagged, their elbows handcuffed behind them, wrists cuffed in front. With a nod from Mallory, the men cut the straps, allowing the top of the crate to be removed. A large wad of foam padding was removed, and the brothers lifted the box, tipping it to spill the contents out. There was total silence. Then Mallory started to laugh. The three brothers joined in. On the floor, bound into a contorted “69" position were the Japanese twins. They were naked, each one’s face pressed against the other sex, and fastened tightly in place there. More cord held their legs tightly around the others head, then were folded up and fastened against their thighs. It had been an extremely thorough job, as neither girl could do much more than fight for air.
“I should have known,” Mallory smirked.
The young Japanese girls were making muffled noises from the floor.
Hugo knelt and reached for the bound bundle.
“No, leave them be,” Mallory instructed. “A few hours like that should allow them time to reflect on their mistake.”
She walked over to the teens.
“I think we have to try a completely different approach,” she spat, reaching out to pinch Samantha’s nipples. “Sometimes, if you want to catch the trophy fish, it just requires the proper bait.”
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“I tried to get a hold of you, but it was too late,” Keri comforted her friend. “After analyzing it several more times, I realized they had edited the film to produce false shadow-lines. You were walking into a trap.”
Heather towel-dried her hair from the shower she had recently taken. After her rescue, they had driven several hours east, checking into a luxury suite at the Hilton in Fort Worth.
“But there were two of them....” she stammered.
“Ahh yes, the old tranquilizer dart trick does wonders,” Keri laughed. “I knew you had ignored one of the most important tenets, but there is an equally important one that says something about ‘don’t allow a F.I.T. agent to go to war alone.’
Heather stopped drying her hair.
“Thanks,” she said simply.
“Don’t worry about it,” Keri said. “Look, maybe you should take a break from it. Let me take it for a spell.”
Heather started to protest.
“Think about it. Sam and Alicia will be safe as long as you stay away from them. They are a bartering chip. I’m not going to get into details about what they want. Only you know that.”
Heather bit her lip.
“They want to know where our headquarters is,” she said quietly.
“No one knows that,” Keri spat. “Why would they think you have any information on it.”
“They think I can find out,” Heather said her blue eyes flashing towards Keri. “My guess is they feel I will do whatever it takes to save Sam and Alicia.”
There was a silence.
“What now?” Keri asked.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m taking a long soak in the jacuzzi,” Heather smiled.
Keri sighed as Heather did a rapid strut towards the jacuzzi room.
Heather had just closed her eyes, allowing the warm liquid to soothe her bare body, when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders. She tensed briefly, her recent trauma at the hands of the twins still vivid in her mind. She started to sit up, but the hand were gentle, yet firm.
“You’re so tense,” she heard Keri say.
The hands continued to rub her shoulders, and she felt her body begin to relax. It had been some time since Heather had felt that kind of attention. The hands continued to work their healing magic. They stopped briefly, and Heather heard the unmistakable sound of fabric hitting the tile floor. Then the hands were back. She sensed her nurturer kneeling on the floor behind her, and then she felt the hands move down over her shoulders. They rubbed the sides of her breasts in an exploratory fashion, and when there was no resistance, they became more aggressive in their exploration. Keri’s sweet scent filled the blonde girl’s nostrils as she lowered her head next to the relaxing blonde. Her chestnut hair spilled down alongside Heather’s shoulders. While it was known in some circles that Heather’s door swung both ways, that was not the common assumption about Keri. It came as a surprise to the blonde that she was receiving this kind of attention from her friend, but not an unpleasant one. Keeping her hands on Heather’s shoulders, Keri stepped into the tub. Heather felt her pulse quicken. Gone were the glasses normally worn by her friend, and the hair always worn in a bun, had been freed to fall almost to her waist in a gentle waving fashion. Her body was spectacular, the breasts full and round, and her waist a slender, yet toned anatomical delight. Her pubic area was smooth and shaved, and Heather could see it was slightly puffy with arousal. Keri looked into her eyes for a moment, then the two embraced, their lips seeking out the other’s, and their tongues dancing wildly together. Keri’s hands rubbed across Heather’s muscular thighs, and her fingers sought out and probed the blonde’s labia. Heather began to moan, a signal to continue that did not go unheeded. Keri grabbed Heather by the shoulders, moving her towards a seat at one end of the bath that allowed her blonde friend to be mostly out of the water. In the next moment, Keri’s tongue was at work, and Heather felt herself at last to be momentarily free of worries.
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Unfortunately, being free of worries was not a luxury of the two sixteen year olds in the custody of the F.I.R.M misfits. Nightfall found Mallory and Jamie seated in a subterranean room, illuminated with a dozen candles and a couple of computer monitors. Jamie slumped on a couch, halfway supported by the large pillows at one end, while Mallory remained seated on a simple wooden chair where she could keep an eye on the monitors. They were amusing themselves with the restrained girls, while plotting their next move in the cat-and-mouse game with the elusive F.I.T agent.
Samantha’s tiny body once again began to quiver, and the throaty sounds of unleashing pleasure, along with large amounts of drool spilled out from behind the horrid four inch red ball gag strapped tightly in place. She had been deviously bound, her slender nude body arched painfully on the floor. Her wrists had been lashed together with thin leather, then in turn were fastened rather high to her waist with numerous wraps of the same, keeping her hands anchored in the small of her back. Her elbow were fastened tightly together, and because of the way her wrists were fastened to her waist, they angled away from her back Her long blonde hair had been braided into two pigtails with leather laced into the braids near the ends. Cord around each individual ankle, with a loop in the end provided the means for running the hair cord from the corresponding pigtail through. Her ankles were pulled up behind her by means of these cords, bending her into a modified hogtie. This would have been stringent enough, but the women had seen fit to run a cord around those connecting hair to ankles, and then around a hook in the ceiling, and pulling her into an excruciating arch. Her hardened nipples licked at the crude floor, rubbing against it as her body shook. The strenuous position had her sweating heavily, and her tanned skin took on a flickering sheen in the dim light. But the stringent bondage wasn’t all that had her body sweating. Between her legs, fastened into place in such a manner that it was pressed deeply into her, was a vibrator. It was this humming fiend which kept her from even a moments peace, for as the effects of her numerous orgasms waned, the horrid position she was bound into ravaged her. And it remained that way until her own body responded to the stimulation imposed on it, and took her briefly away from reality of her situation. Her grey eyes opened wide as the next wave coursed through her helpless body.
“How many is that?” Mallory chuckled.
“I don’t know, ten maybe?” Jamie said indifferently. “I lost count a half hour ago.”
Her indifference wasn’t so much a product of not being entertained as it was she had her own spectacle to observe. There was nothing about Alicia’s situation that could remotely be described as pleasurable. Her arms were pulled into a severe reverse prayer, the palms of her hands together just below her neck in back, and held there with a black leather belt. Another belt midway between her wrists and her elbows closed what should have been widening gap, and belts closer to the elbows held the folded joints to where they nearly touched. Her legs were folded too, her ankles strapped securely to her thighs, keeping her black pump clad stiletto heels pressed into the cheeks of her butt. They were expensive heels, with a snap closing ankle strap that insure they would stay on her feet. Her gag was a simple two inch wide strip of leather, buckled deep into her mouth, that really didn’t silence her as much as make any intelligible sound unintelligible. Around her waist was another belt, tightened just above the hip bones, and buckled at least three holes too tight. Another narrow belt looped over this waist cinch in front, and was riveted to itself. This strap dove down between her thighs, slicing cruelly through her sex and butt cheeks, before being fastened to a specially attached buckle in back. Jamie had seen to this strap like a trucker worried that his load might shift if it was allowed any play whatsoever. That was the extent of her bondage. The genius of this was that it allowed the raven haired beauty a good deal of movement, but no relief. She flopped around on the floor, spreading her thighs, then clenching them together in a constant scissoring action, as if she could somehow expel the intruding leather with enough effort. On each nipple was an alligator clip, the jaws deep enough in the tender flesh to make even her most energetic efforts of rubbing against floor a futility. From those clips dangled a gold chain, which terminated in tiny bells, and their jingling, which had been constant for a time, had begun to wane as she tired. Like her fellow captive, her exertions had her sweating heavily, her dark hair stuck to her face in several places.
A computer alert drew Mallory from her chair, and she hurried to the monitor.
“Damn,” she said, staring at the ‘No items found’ message on the screen. “I should have known they would have issued new credit cards.”
Her search had been run through the F.I.R.M database, in an effort to locate where Heather may have wound up. The search had been for all locations starting from the west Texas airfield, then going in concentric circles away from that point. It had been done assuming they would have traveled at an average speed of 70 mph. So the search went out 70 miles for the first hour, 140 for the second, and so on. It assumed Heather had help escaping the clutches of the twins, so it looked for two women using a credit card to check into a hotel. Plugging in the data containing Heather’s picture, and using a scanner to scan the Photo ID’s on file from people checking in, then cross-referencing had produced nothing.
“Well, that was a lot for nothing,” Mallory said disgusted.
She walked over to the blonde teen and switched off the vibrator, then undid the thin cords holding it tightly in place. She released the cord holding her bent into the painful arch, then released the hair-to-ankles tether. She grabbed the dual ponytails in one hand, and hauled the tiny blonde easily to her feet, where Samantha stood on wobbly legs. Her tight body glistened with sweat, and her erect nipples and puffy labia indicated the effects of the vibrator were still very much alive within her.
Mallory chuckled as her knees buckled, and she would have sunk to the floor if not for the hand in her hair.
“Your ride’s over you little cunt,” Mallory hissed. “You can properly thank me later.”
Meanwhile, Jamie had released the doubled legs of the gorgeous brunette, and likewise pulled her to her feet by the hair. The five inch heels made standing difficult, but the one inch wide strip of leather slicing through her cunt made doing anything a nightmare. Jamie reached around the girl, squeezing her breasts with all the finesse of a drunk in a whorehouse.
“Let’s get these two put away for the night,” Mallory smirked. “I’ll come up with something tomorrow.”
After turning off the computers, and blowing out the candles the four of them shuffled off towards the walkout entrance.
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