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1 The night had progressed nicely. There was lots of food and beverage. There had been slow roasted pork, beef tenderloin, crab, and side dishes too many to count. The banquet took place in a separate underground part of the complex that neither Alicia nor Samantha had seen. The room was huge, at least 40 by 40 feet, and well lit, with an adobe fireplace at one end. The evening was not cool, but still they burned pinon wood for the ambience. Fun was had by all. Well, by most. Certainly Samantha was not having a good time. The feast had taken place at several large round marble tables, mounted on iron legs. Each was big enough to seat twenty people, and each seat was filled. There were a half dozen men, some from Eastern Europe, and a couple from Central America. The remainder were female, and they too were split in nationality. The only ones the captives recognized were Mallory, Katrina, and Jamie. The centerpiece for one of the banquet tables was Samantha. She was in the center of the table bound into a stringent position that would have been intolerable for five minutes. Unfortunately, it was going on two hours. The tiny blonde had been bound with rough hemp, all of it applied by Katrina, who seemed to have a flair for that kind of stuff. She was on her belly, with her arms pulled cruelly behind her and bound with many turns of the rope midway between her elbows and shoulders. It didn’t pull her elbows together, that would have been impossible. Her legs were bound ankles-to-thighs, and those drawn deep into her flesh. She had been bent back, with the help of Jamie and Mallory, so her feet could be tied to her elbows with rope running around the arch of her right foot, and the flesh of her arm just above the right elbow. The same was done on the left side. Her arms ran down the length of her calves so the wrist could be tied to the outside of the calf just below the knee. The natural tendency of this was to pull her doubled legs widely apart. More hemp circled her waist, drawn tight, and served as an anchor point for the cinches connecting her feet and elbows. It also served as an anchor point for final cord which was fastened in back, went down through the crack of her ass, through her cunt lips in front, before looping over the waist ropes in front, and making the return trip back. But it didn’t return to its origin. It shot upwards to grab a clump of her platinum hair near the scalp, and served to hold her head up off the table. Because of its rough nature, the tough cord chafed at the tender flesh of her sex. Everything had been drawn so tight that Samantha could scarcely move a muscle, and when she did the tight cords discouraged it sternly. Pulling against the restraints only served to arch her body slightly off the table top, and nothing more. She was completely nude, and tightly ball gagged. She had been rubbed with oil so her bronze skin glistened in the indirect lighting, and an assortment of rope had been secured to her restraints, and ran to various points around the table. Their use became apparent as the night progressed. At some point one of the inebriated guests might wish to get a closer look at the tightly bound blonde, and rather than have to disturb the others at the table, they would simply grab a length of cord nearest them, and pull her over. The oil on Samantha’s skin made the task easier to perform, although by the time they got around to this form of amusement, she was sweating so heavily that the oil was really just window dressing. Mostly they grabbed at her tits, pawing and pinching the flesh as if to see whether the girl was real flesh and blood and not some life-like mannequin trussed into this horrid pose. On occasion they would slip a finger under the brutally tight crotch-rope, or even manage to bypass it altogether and explore further inside. Samantha’s grey eyes had a deer in the headlight look through most of it, her tiny grunts and moans, and a twisting of her toes, her only defense. One of the more devious guests, a haughty dark complected lass from Argentina, sought to remedy that affront by tying a length of twine from her big toes to the waist cinch, forcing the blonde girl’s feet down almost flat against her buttocks and removing even that bit of defiance. The same girl seemed to take great delight in stroking the helpless girl’s nipples into erection, then pinching the engorged flesh until tears came to the young blonde’s eyes.
Alicia was slightly better off. At least she had been afforded a snippet of clothing. Her eyes soaked up the nude form of her friend, cringing at how brutally tight the ropes were confining her. But any study of Samantha was needfully short. While her friend had her sex split by coarse hemp, Alicia’s was annoyingly occupied by a silver colored, remote controlled vibrating egg. She was dressed like a slutty school girl in a plaid, micro-mini, a ridiculously undersized light blue halter, and lacy ankle socks, under strappy black high heels. She wore no underpants, which would have caused difficulties in keeping the vibrator in place. But Jamie had seen to that by piercing Alicia’s labia, and inserting a stainless steel ring through it. It was described as punishment for her transgressions earlier in the day, and fortunately Jamie had been kind enough to deaden the sensitive area before performing her task. Alicia’s elbows were strapped together behind her back, and then her thumbs were connected in front with a thin black leather cord that would have been tolerable had it not also been attached to a chain connecting her pierced nipples. That little added annoyance kept her from relaxing her hands for fear of tugging her nipples harder than they already were. The cord from her thumbs rose upwards, disappearing under the brief halter. Alicia’s thighs were strapped tightly together just above the knees, and she was gagged with a ring gag, which allowed large quantities of drool to spill onto her halter. The halter was so tiny that most of the undersides of her round tits could be seen, and so tight her nipples poked through the brittle fabric. She sat on Jamie’s lap, occasionally ordered off for some mundane task such as fetching drinks for the table, which was difficult without the use of her thumbs. Lucky for her, they were being served in stemmed glasses, and she found she could slip the stem between her middle finger and forefinger. Of course, having her thighs tightly bound also presented difficulties, as well as the high heels. But all-in-all she performed admirably. As the night wore on however, Jamie consumed a rather sizable amount of booze, and so her devious side took over. She would wait until Alicia had gotten the drinks and was shuffling towards the table, then hit the remote. The whole table would get great entertainment from watching the young girl stop in her tracks, hands trembling in an effort to keep from spilling the drinks. She would clench her thighs together even tighter, hunching over and drool pooling from her lips. When a good laugh was had by all, Jamie would hit the remote once again, allowing Alicia to complete her degrading task.
She was passed around the table like a bottle of tequila, the patrons taking turns to paw at her youthful flesh, tug at her labia ring, pinch her breasts, and anything else that caught their fancy. A few found the minuscule halter to be an annoyance, so eventually it wound up pulled up and bunched over the top of her tits, making their enjoyment of her body less cumbersome.
The entertainment for the evening took many forms. There were martial arts exhibitions, impressive new espionage technologies, and a general overview of the if the organization’s well-being.
Mallory gave a rundown of how well funded their operations were. It included a very generous gift recently from Saudi royalty, which was untraceable due to its unique nature. A question was asked about recent F.I.T activities. There had been rumors that several agents cover had been compromised.
Mallory smiled and nodded.
“Yes, there has been an occasional glitch,” Mallory stated. “These will happen occasionally, and it is our intention to deal with these in a manner to discourage future such events. I can illustrate that point quite nicely, I believe. A few days ago, one of our new operatives was paid a rather humiliating visit by a notorious F.I.T agent. This operative had done quite well in obtaining property from a real estate company, and through some slick computer work, was able to remove the property from the public domain. We did quite nicely in that arena for a time, but a long time nemesis managed to break apart that operation. I told the young girl if we had the opportunity to, we would give her some measure of revenge. Fortunately, we got the opportunity.”
Mallory motioned with her hand towards the door. One of the guards opened the door leading to the hallway, and in walked Bailey Boswell. She was still dressed in her leather and chain outfit, and the thigh-high boots. She held in one hand a cord that ran over her shoulder, and a short leather crop and a supply of more blue belts in the other,. A few paces behind her was Heather Duncan. One glance told that the beautiful blonde had not come as a guest. She had been cleaned up from her earlier encounters. Her hair was washed and combed, and gathered into a ponytail that fell to her butt in back, draping over her secured arms. Blue seemed to be the color of the evening, for the young F.I.T agent. Light blue. She wore it in the form of a wide collar around her neck, which buckled in back. A blue leather arm-binder secured her arms behind her back, her elbows fused together by it’s careful application. Another belt had been tightened around her waist, tight enough to be a concern all its own. But its true purpose made the nature of its tightness secondary. It was what was fastened to it that was of real concern. The very tip of the arm-binder had a blue belt sewn into it. This belt dove through Heather’s ass cheeks in back, came forward to split her labia, and then fastened to a custom buckle on the front of the belt. It had been drawn taut with a ferocity born out of Hugo’s weight and strength, at the request of Bailey. It had been pulled so tight that the belt was pulled downwards several inches, something that would have seemed impossible when first applied, due to its tightness, and it dug into the tops of the blonde girl’s hip bones. The crotch strap emerged from a point where, until recently, Heather had a sparse strip of pubic hair. Every step came with a wince, but they had to be made. The cord that Bailey held in her hand went over her shoulder and connected to Heather’s nipples. Or rather to rings in Heather’s nipples. That little piece of jewelry came with Katrina’s assistance. The sensitive flesh had been pierced, then silver rings were put in place, the ends soldered together to make them permanent. A light silver chain ran from one ring to the other, and that served as the tether point for the cord. Unfortunately, Katrina had not been as kind as she had with Alicia, opting to do the job without anything to numb the area. Heather made small noises through her gag, which consisted of a blue leather strap, buckled tight enough to cut into the sides of her mouth, and which in turn held several pair of dirty panties packed tightly in. Unbeknownst to Heather, the panties had been soaked in a stimulant which would keep her alert and attentive to all the stimulation planned for her. She walked awkwardly, but rapidly, atop blue leather pumps with six inch heels. Her beautiful legs flexed like a dancers in a failed effort to find a gait that was anything other than excruciating. Her large breasts bobbed painfully, the silver rings glinting in the light, accentuating her tan skin, and the developing layer of sweat that her body was taking on. She halted briefly when she saw the Samantha, cringing at the horrid position the young teen was tied into, then the chain tugged harshly on her nipples once again.
Bailey led her over to a narrow support post next to one of the tables , loosened the collar at Heather’s neck, then motioned to Katrina for some assistance. Heather was scarcely cognizant of them forcing her to kneel with her back to the post. When she was on her knees, Bailey re-attached the collar around her neck and the post. A two foot wide spreader bar was fastened between Heather’s knees, but behind the post. The blonde girl felt the pressure at her neck, as the position forced her neck against leather strap securing her to the post. Then one at a time, her lovely legs were folded up so her ankles could be fastened tightly to her upper thighs, forcing Heather to balance painfully on her knees. She was astonished, but they obtained enough slack in the crotch-strap to wedge a six inch vibrator cross-ways under it, and turned the dial to the highest setting. Lastly, Bailey looped the strap attached to her nipple rings around the vibrator so the helpless blonde could enjoy the sensations flowing through them as well. Heather had no way of knowing, but the brutal crotch-strap that was splitting her apart held a wicked secret. Sewn onto the inside of the leather, that part crushed against her clitoris, was a strip of the hybrid material that Sam and Alicia had been forced onto for the video some time ago. It was the superconducting titanium that multiplied the vibrations input into it exponentially, before spitting them back out at whatever came in contact with it. In this case, that something was Heather’s flesh. Within minutes, Heather’s skin began to crawl. Sweat coated her athletic form like a sprayed on mist, rolling of her breasts and nipples, and down her trembling thighs.
Mallory walked over to her and tugged on the nipple chain to gain her attention. She bent down close, undid Heather’s ponytail and whispered in her ear.
“Surprise, surprise,” she taunted the helpless agent. “Now we still have business to conduct, so be polite and don’t be a distraction. ”
Of course, that was impossible. On the one hand, her body had no way of fighting off what was being imposed on it. She could scarcely move, and certainly could never remove the strap deep inside her. And second, she was stunningly gorgeous. Even had she not been naked and bound, she would have been a distraction to all the men present, and a good portion of the women as well.
“See she behaves herself,” Mallory smiled to Bailey, before ruffling Heather’s long blonde hair in a playful manner, then spreading it attractively.
With these theatrics out of the way, the meeting continued. But for Heather, nothing was intelligible. It was like the teacher in the Charlie Brown cartoons; muffled distant, and without substance. The pleasure swept through her body in waves, only to subside into dull pain until the next wave came ashore. Her body trembled constantly, one minute from her stringent bondage, the next from the wild vibrations ravishing her. And on those occasions where the sensations became too much, and Heather’s moans and whimpers became audible, Bailey cured of these transgressions by whipping her tits, and thighs, and belly with the leather crop.
The blonde girl never heard Mallory tell of the large cache of platinum that the organization had come across. A portion of it was produced and shown off. It came from the bag that Alicia had been forced to carry back after her ill-fated escape attempt earlier in the day. She was never cognizant of the fact the meeting was over. When Heather was finally released from the post, and the vibrator removed from the crotch-strap, her limp form was placed face down on the floor. The cold floor felt wonderful against Heather’s sweat soaked skin. But when the young antagonist grabbed the chain connected to her pierced nipples, she was forced to rise to her weary legs.
As Bailey started to lead Heather from the large room, their trek was interrupted by a middle aged couple. Bailey seemed perturbed at this intrusion, giving the two a disgusted look. The man spoke in French, softly, grabbing at the bound agent’s breasts as he spoke. Bailey shook her head, not able to understand the language.
“How much?” the woman said.
Bailey still didn’t understand.
“How much do you want for her?” the woman continued.
“How much?” Bailey finally said.
“We’ll give you $500,000.” the woman said.
Bailey gave them a blank stare.
The woman looked at the man, and said something in French. The man nodded.
“$750,000,” the woman said.
Bailey broke out into a smile.
“How about that, you stupid cunt,” she spat at the bound blonde. “I’m going to get rich at your expense.”
Heather closed her eyes. The thought of being sold like a side of beef was not thrilling her.
“She’s not for sale,” Mallory’s voice piped in.
Heather opened her eyes in time to see the dejection on Bailey’s face.
“Bailey, I think I’ll take Agent Duncan now,” Mallory said taking the nipple chain from Bailey. “We have some things to get ironed out yet tonight.”
Mallory led the restrained agent past the glass table which had previously held her sister Sam. There was no sign of the girl, only severed strands of the rough hemp which had bound her so cruelly. The blonde was escorted out of the large hall, and down the narrow corridor, her heels clacking against the floor as she went.
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