Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
"... Maybe it will be a crossover with a story by another author? ..." - Did you have one in mindWe really hope and look forward to it
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Sexpionage ...
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Praefectus Praetorio
R.I.P. Brother of the Quill
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Whatever the context, to be mentioned in the same post as such hallowed company is always gratifying. It is self promotion and I don't feel any shame, so I reckon PrPr is spot on lol
...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
DON'T FORGET - TOMORROW 'SEXPIONAGE' IS BACK!
... So, join us right here.
When girls from the Greater London Area begin to go missing and an Albanian Trafficking Network is suspected of taking them across borders, MI6 is brought in to investigate. What is needed is a young, vulnerable looking female to act as bait, and a more experienced female Agent to infiltrate the Trafficking Network. When Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova and Agent Grace Miller are given the call then we know that all may well not go as planned ...
Here is a short excerpt that will, hopefully, wet your appetites.
Trafficked ...
... Trainee Agent Novikova nodded quickly, then turned to face her co-trainees, the boys and girls that she lived and learned with every day, and began reading the paper out loud.
"Miss Novikova will undo the top button on her shirt," she repeated the words written on the page.
“So do it, Trainee Agent Novikova.” It was still the Comrade Colonel speaking.
Her hand unconsciously floated up to touch the button on her blouse, and with a pleading look at the Colonel, one that remained entirely unacknowledged, she flicked the said button open.
"Keep reading," said the class instructor, Comrade Ivanova, her commanding tone scaring the young trainee into action.
"She will then pull out her hair band and remove her bra." Kat dropped the paper, her mouth hanging open in shock. She shook her head and uttered the plea.
“Please Comrade Instructor, don’t make me do this.”
But the Instructor remained silent, as did the gleefully grinning faces of her classmates. So, it was with a resigned reluctance that Kat slipped loose another button on her blouse, reached inside and removed her front fastening bra, before taking out the hair band and shaking her long blonde hair free ...
... So, join us right here.
When girls from the Greater London Area begin to go missing and an Albanian Trafficking Network is suspected of taking them across borders, MI6 is brought in to investigate. What is needed is a young, vulnerable looking female to act as bait, and a more experienced female Agent to infiltrate the Trafficking Network. When Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova and Agent Grace Miller are given the call then we know that all may well not go as planned ...
Here is a short excerpt that will, hopefully, wet your appetites.
Trafficked ...
... Trainee Agent Novikova nodded quickly, then turned to face her co-trainees, the boys and girls that she lived and learned with every day, and began reading the paper out loud.
"Miss Novikova will undo the top button on her shirt," she repeated the words written on the page.
“So do it, Trainee Agent Novikova.” It was still the Comrade Colonel speaking.
Her hand unconsciously floated up to touch the button on her blouse, and with a pleading look at the Colonel, one that remained entirely unacknowledged, she flicked the said button open.
"Keep reading," said the class instructor, Comrade Ivanova, her commanding tone scaring the young trainee into action.
"She will then pull out her hair band and remove her bra." Kat dropped the paper, her mouth hanging open in shock. She shook her head and uttered the plea.
“Please Comrade Instructor, don’t make me do this.”
But the Instructor remained silent, as did the gleefully grinning faces of her classmates. So, it was with a resigned reluctance that Kat slipped loose another button on her blouse, reached inside and removed her front fastening bra, before taking out the hair band and shaking her long blonde hair free ...
Last edited:
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Mmmmmmmmmmmm !!! To be "tortured" by a sex'machine, that's so much wonderful !
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
SEXPIONAGE RETURNS
@Barabbas @Barbaria1 @Beate @bkcharmer @bobinder @crumera @cruxlover @ctcua @ERIN the Brave @Eulalia @Eva Inanna @Gibbs505 @Heineudo @Jackie1111 @jacksjg89 @Jon Smithie @Kathy @Kuba @Madiosi @Marcella @messaline @MJMcHugh @montycrusto @nicole @old slave @Peony @phlebas @Puritan @Quiet Paul @RacingRodent @Rias @thehangingtree @toxidomaskjr @twonines @wildsouthman @windar @Wragg @StarbuckSlut @shredword @The Beast @thommorr @elephas @malins @fallenmystic @Loxuru @Harsh Martinet @RedOrc @Grab @firstout0 @bleater @Ozz @Boris Spider @Dalriada @TheLimey @KurvyKate @Vindex @piraland @fat slave girl @Praefectus Praetorio @Loinclothslave1 @jbs073 @Peter_the_giant @Ted Parry @twonines @cerf @JJ Shriek @john rambo @NewUser
Trafficked (1)
4 years earlier …
The SVR Academy, just outside Central Moscow
"Miss Novikova, stand up please," said Comrade Instructor Galina Ivanova, suddenly.
"M … me, Comrade Instructor?" Trainee Agent Ekaterina Novikova said, caught off guard, her feelings of comfort evaporating, to be replaced by anxiety.
"Stand up, please. Don't make me ask you again," came the reply.
The instructor didn't seem angry or upset, and so the young girl got to her feet, acutely aware that she was now standing in front of the entire class.
"Now go to the front of the class, please," said Ivanova, pointing to the wall where she'd placed the yellow paper. Ekaterina looked longingly at her shoes, the ones the Comrade Instructor had already had her remove just moments earlier, but decided not to draw attention to them, and padded barefoot to the wall.
"Now take down the yellow paper and read what it says to the class," said her superior, without a hint of intolerance.
Kat pulled the brightly coloured sheet off the wall and flipped it over, reading. Then her hand flew to her mouth to hide a gasp of shock.
"Read it, out loud, Miss Novikova," said Galina Ivanova, now with a tinge of impatience.
The young girl gulped, shaking her head. She couldn't read this out to the whole group!
"Miss Novikova, you will see me in my office after class. Now read it, please." The voice was different. A male voice and Kat looked up to see that Comrade Colonel Tretykov had now entered the class room.
Trainee Agent Novikova nodded quickly, then turned to face her co-trainees, the boys and girls that she lived and learned with every day, and began reading the paper out loud.
"Miss Novikova will undo the top button on her shirt," she repeated the words written on the page.
“So do it, Trainee Agent Novikova.” It was still the Comrade Colonel speaking.
Her hand unconsciously floated up to touch the button on her blouse, and with a pleading look at the Colonel, one that remained entirely unacknowledged, she flicked said button open.
"Keep reading," said Ivanova, her commanding tone scaring the young trainee into action.
"She will then pull out her hair band and remove her bra." Kat dropped the paper, her mouth hanging open in shock. She shook her head and uttered the plea.
“Please Comrade Instructor, don’t make me do this.”
But the Instructor remained silent, as did the gleefully grinning faces of her classmates. So, it was with a resigned reluctance that Kat slipped loose another button on her blouse, reached inside and removed her front fastening bra, before taking out the hair band and shaking her long blonde hair free.
The room was still warm, but, as she dropped the bra to the floor, Kat felt her nipples pushing hard against the cotton fabric.
"Fuck?" said one of the boys, an incredulous tone to his voice. They were all staring at her now.
"Hard like bullets?" said another with disbelieving desire infusing his words. Kat’s arms crossed over her chest, for even though they couldn't really see anything, the young girl suddenly felt very naked.
"Can you make her take the rest of her clothes off?" said another of her so-called class mates. A tiny squeak was unwittingly released from Kat’s throat. She was trembling slightly, hoping beyond hope that this was the end of her humiliation.
“Please Comrade Instructor, strip her naked,” said more than one voice in support of the previous request.
Ekaterina paled, her confidence shaken … she didn't want a dozen horny 19-year-old boys, and girls, staring at her nude body.
"No," said Colonel Tretykov, to a chorus of disappointed sighs. "Let's give poor Ekaterina a break. You may sit down, Trainee Agent Novikova."
Kat quickly returned to her seat, grateful to sit down for fear her legs might give way at any moment.
"So, you see …" continued Galina Ivanova. "… how easy it is to become unnerved when placed in a pressure situation. You all need to learn how to accept conditions like this and move through them without compromising your own position. Rest assured we will practice this many times before you graduate. Class dismissed."
The other under-grads filed out of the room past Kat, as she sat slumped in her chair. She was so distracted that she didn't even notice them trying to get a glimpse of her bra-less chest as they passed. Finally, they were gone, and Tretykov was about to leave the room when he noticed her still sitting there, her eyes cast downward.
“Come to my office Trainee Agent Novikova, you and I will practice this some more right now.”
The Apartment of Special Agent Novikova, Goodrich House, Royal Haslar, Alverstoke, Gosport PO12
“Penny for your thoughts Kat,” Lieutenant Jason Underhill, reached out to touch the bare arm of his lover.
Kat turned to smile at him and moved her hand to brush his face. “I was just thinking of my days at the Academy in Russia, and the … training we received.”
Jase nodded, listening to her words.
Kat was still reflecting on that particular day, the one where Tretykov had humiliated her in front of the entire class and then taken her to his office where he had raped her, taking her virginity for himself.
“Was it hard?” Underhill asked.
“Very,” Kat replied, “… But,” she added, “… it prepared us well for the world into which we were about to be thrown.”
Jason knew exactly what his lover meant. He loved her more than anything, except for his children, eleven-year-old Jack and seven-year-old Isabella, but his love for them was of a different kind. Ekaterina never, ever pushed him to leave Sam, his wife of twelve years, happy and contended to enjoy their moments together, like now.
“I love you Special Agent Novikova.”
“I love you too Lieutenant Underhill.”
“You are so beautiful Ekaterina.” They were words that Kat loved to hear, especially given the heavily scarred condition of her body.
His words were said in a husky voice as Jase reached out and grabbed at her breasts. Kat’s nipples throbbed against his palms, he was rough but this was how she liked it … Special Agent Novikova preferred sex this way ever since the ‘conditioning’ she had received from earlier missions, and Jason’s assertive handling fanned the flames of her desire. She turned to him and they embraced, each pair of hands roaming the other's body. He groaned as his fingers cupped her mound and discovered how wet she already was.
"Fuck Kat, I want you so much," he growled and pushed her over on her stomach, Kat instinctively got up on her knees, offering herself to her lover. Jase moved into position behind her and wasting no more time. He located her soft, warm opening with his cock and pushed inside.
He was big and so hard that Kat immediately felt full as he quickened his action and plunged deeper into her receptive body. Holding onto her hips Jason began to thrust, and as he pushed through her soft folds, Kat groaned and cried out loud, trying to catch up with him …
"Fuck babe, you really are something else," Jase said and slapped her ass. The smack was delivered with force and Kat bucked forward, feeling the arousal that had been ready to overwhelm her, backtrack just a little. He knew how to manage her desire, and she loved him for it.
"Please, Jase, let me …," she managed to say, her face against the mattress.
"What, you want me to make you cum?" Jase grinned and kept on thrusting.
“Yes, oh God, yes please …” She did not want him to cum and leave her hanging, as she hurried to keep up. Kat moved her weight onto her right arm which pushed her ass up a little higher, allowing him to drive deeper, and she whimpered, slipping her left hand underneath her body so that she could massage her already heavily engorged clitoris.
Jase groaned when the angle of her pelvis changed and he picked up the pace even more. It felt so damned good this way, and he grinned when he saw how feverishly his lover was massaging her clit. She was ready … he was ready too.
When he came he growled and gripped hard, hanging onto Kat’s hips as she pushed backwards against his body, and just as his weight started to propel her forward towards the bed, she got there … arching, grinding, screaming … and they came gloriously as one, in total unison …
To Be Continued …
@Barabbas @Barbaria1 @Beate @bkcharmer @bobinder @crumera @cruxlover @ctcua @ERIN the Brave @Eulalia @Eva Inanna @Gibbs505 @Heineudo @Jackie1111 @jacksjg89 @Jon Smithie @Kathy @Kuba @Madiosi @Marcella @messaline @MJMcHugh @montycrusto @nicole @old slave @Peony @phlebas @Puritan @Quiet Paul @RacingRodent @Rias @thehangingtree @toxidomaskjr @twonines @wildsouthman @windar @Wragg @StarbuckSlut @shredword @The Beast @thommorr @elephas @malins @fallenmystic @Loxuru @Harsh Martinet @RedOrc @Grab @firstout0 @bleater @Ozz @Boris Spider @Dalriada @TheLimey @KurvyKate @Vindex @piraland @fat slave girl @Praefectus Praetorio @Loinclothslave1 @jbs073 @Peter_the_giant @Ted Parry @twonines @cerf @JJ Shriek @john rambo @NewUser
Trafficked (1)
4 years earlier …
The SVR Academy, just outside Central Moscow
"Miss Novikova, stand up please," said Comrade Instructor Galina Ivanova, suddenly.
"M … me, Comrade Instructor?" Trainee Agent Ekaterina Novikova said, caught off guard, her feelings of comfort evaporating, to be replaced by anxiety.
"Stand up, please. Don't make me ask you again," came the reply.
The instructor didn't seem angry or upset, and so the young girl got to her feet, acutely aware that she was now standing in front of the entire class.
"Now go to the front of the class, please," said Ivanova, pointing to the wall where she'd placed the yellow paper. Ekaterina looked longingly at her shoes, the ones the Comrade Instructor had already had her remove just moments earlier, but decided not to draw attention to them, and padded barefoot to the wall.
"Now take down the yellow paper and read what it says to the class," said her superior, without a hint of intolerance.
Kat pulled the brightly coloured sheet off the wall and flipped it over, reading. Then her hand flew to her mouth to hide a gasp of shock.
"Read it, out loud, Miss Novikova," said Galina Ivanova, now with a tinge of impatience.
The young girl gulped, shaking her head. She couldn't read this out to the whole group!
"Miss Novikova, you will see me in my office after class. Now read it, please." The voice was different. A male voice and Kat looked up to see that Comrade Colonel Tretykov had now entered the class room.
Trainee Agent Novikova nodded quickly, then turned to face her co-trainees, the boys and girls that she lived and learned with every day, and began reading the paper out loud.
"Miss Novikova will undo the top button on her shirt," she repeated the words written on the page.
“So do it, Trainee Agent Novikova.” It was still the Comrade Colonel speaking.
Her hand unconsciously floated up to touch the button on her blouse, and with a pleading look at the Colonel, one that remained entirely unacknowledged, she flicked said button open.
"Keep reading," said Ivanova, her commanding tone scaring the young trainee into action.
"She will then pull out her hair band and remove her bra." Kat dropped the paper, her mouth hanging open in shock. She shook her head and uttered the plea.
“Please Comrade Instructor, don’t make me do this.”
But the Instructor remained silent, as did the gleefully grinning faces of her classmates. So, it was with a resigned reluctance that Kat slipped loose another button on her blouse, reached inside and removed her front fastening bra, before taking out the hair band and shaking her long blonde hair free.
The room was still warm, but, as she dropped the bra to the floor, Kat felt her nipples pushing hard against the cotton fabric.
"Fuck?" said one of the boys, an incredulous tone to his voice. They were all staring at her now.
"Hard like bullets?" said another with disbelieving desire infusing his words. Kat’s arms crossed over her chest, for even though they couldn't really see anything, the young girl suddenly felt very naked.
"Can you make her take the rest of her clothes off?" said another of her so-called class mates. A tiny squeak was unwittingly released from Kat’s throat. She was trembling slightly, hoping beyond hope that this was the end of her humiliation.
“Please Comrade Instructor, strip her naked,” said more than one voice in support of the previous request.
Ekaterina paled, her confidence shaken … she didn't want a dozen horny 19-year-old boys, and girls, staring at her nude body.
"No," said Colonel Tretykov, to a chorus of disappointed sighs. "Let's give poor Ekaterina a break. You may sit down, Trainee Agent Novikova."
Kat quickly returned to her seat, grateful to sit down for fear her legs might give way at any moment.
"So, you see …" continued Galina Ivanova. "… how easy it is to become unnerved when placed in a pressure situation. You all need to learn how to accept conditions like this and move through them without compromising your own position. Rest assured we will practice this many times before you graduate. Class dismissed."
The other under-grads filed out of the room past Kat, as she sat slumped in her chair. She was so distracted that she didn't even notice them trying to get a glimpse of her bra-less chest as they passed. Finally, they were gone, and Tretykov was about to leave the room when he noticed her still sitting there, her eyes cast downward.
“Come to my office Trainee Agent Novikova, you and I will practice this some more right now.”
The Apartment of Special Agent Novikova, Goodrich House, Royal Haslar, Alverstoke, Gosport PO12
“Penny for your thoughts Kat,” Lieutenant Jason Underhill, reached out to touch the bare arm of his lover.
Kat turned to smile at him and moved her hand to brush his face. “I was just thinking of my days at the Academy in Russia, and the … training we received.”
Jase nodded, listening to her words.
Kat was still reflecting on that particular day, the one where Tretykov had humiliated her in front of the entire class and then taken her to his office where he had raped her, taking her virginity for himself.
“Was it hard?” Underhill asked.
“Very,” Kat replied, “… But,” she added, “… it prepared us well for the world into which we were about to be thrown.”
Jason knew exactly what his lover meant. He loved her more than anything, except for his children, eleven-year-old Jack and seven-year-old Isabella, but his love for them was of a different kind. Ekaterina never, ever pushed him to leave Sam, his wife of twelve years, happy and contended to enjoy their moments together, like now.
“I love you Special Agent Novikova.”
“I love you too Lieutenant Underhill.”
“You are so beautiful Ekaterina.” They were words that Kat loved to hear, especially given the heavily scarred condition of her body.
His words were said in a husky voice as Jase reached out and grabbed at her breasts. Kat’s nipples throbbed against his palms, he was rough but this was how she liked it … Special Agent Novikova preferred sex this way ever since the ‘conditioning’ she had received from earlier missions, and Jason’s assertive handling fanned the flames of her desire. She turned to him and they embraced, each pair of hands roaming the other's body. He groaned as his fingers cupped her mound and discovered how wet she already was.
"Fuck Kat, I want you so much," he growled and pushed her over on her stomach, Kat instinctively got up on her knees, offering herself to her lover. Jase moved into position behind her and wasting no more time. He located her soft, warm opening with his cock and pushed inside.
He was big and so hard that Kat immediately felt full as he quickened his action and plunged deeper into her receptive body. Holding onto her hips Jason began to thrust, and as he pushed through her soft folds, Kat groaned and cried out loud, trying to catch up with him …
"Fuck babe, you really are something else," Jase said and slapped her ass. The smack was delivered with force and Kat bucked forward, feeling the arousal that had been ready to overwhelm her, backtrack just a little. He knew how to manage her desire, and she loved him for it.
"Please, Jase, let me …," she managed to say, her face against the mattress.
"What, you want me to make you cum?" Jase grinned and kept on thrusting.
“Yes, oh God, yes please …” She did not want him to cum and leave her hanging, as she hurried to keep up. Kat moved her weight onto her right arm which pushed her ass up a little higher, allowing him to drive deeper, and she whimpered, slipping her left hand underneath her body so that she could massage her already heavily engorged clitoris.
Jase groaned when the angle of her pelvis changed and he picked up the pace even more. It felt so damned good this way, and he grinned when he saw how feverishly his lover was massaging her clit. She was ready … he was ready too.
When he came he growled and gripped hard, hanging onto Kat’s hips as she pushed backwards against his body, and just as his weight started to propel her forward towards the bed, she got there … arching, grinding, screaming … and they came gloriously as one, in total unison …
To Be Continued …
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Trafficked (2)
Briefing Room, MI6 SIS Building, Lambeth, London, UK
At the instruction of the Head of MI6, Roger Moore, the small, select group gathered round the polished briefing table. He sat in the top position, in addition to which there were two central intelligence operatives, designated to maintain control of any operation from HQ. He had brought the team together to discuss what was quickly becoming a major problem for the UK Government, and Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova along with Agent Grace Miller waited impatiently to find out why they too had been summonsed.
“Another girl has been taken.” His opening Gambit referred to the reported disappearance of a twenty-four-year-old female, who, after heading out the previous evening to her Yoga Class, failed to return home to her partner.
“Surely this is a police matter.” Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova spoke up, still wondering what their part in all of this was, and then quickly looked across at Marcus Devonshire, Roger Moore’s Aide de camp.
“Normally, Special Agent Novikova, it would be, but we suspect that the girls … he said girls because yesterday’s disappearance was the latest in a series of abductions in the Greater London area … are being trafficked out to Albania.”
Kat nodded and then turned to frown at her friend and colleague, Agent Miller.
“If I may ask, Sir, what specific suspicions do we have?”
Marcus flicked his hand-held control which displayed a grainy close up from a restricted view camera showing the almost deserted car park from a suburban Community Centre. It showed two people engaged in what appeared to be aggressive behaviour towards a third. Moore’s aide then added the narrative. “Two of these individuals …” and it was very clear to which two Devonshire was referring, are Dalmat Elizi and Debora Hoxaj. They are both known Albanian mafia members with clear links to Alfonso Çela, Head of the Xhakja clan.”
Novikova and Miller both nodded, and exchanged a raised eyebrows glance at one another.
“Happy now Special Agent Novikova?”
Kat nodded.
“Okay, Marcus, please continue.”
Devonshire acknowledged his Commander, but this time, as he spoke, he addressed the two female MI6 Agents directly.
“We will be deploying the two of you to infiltrate the Network. You, Special Agent Novikova, will pose as the daughter of a Ukrainian ‘Businessman’, one who owns a series of brothels throughout the Ukraine, and you will be attending a dinner in Shijak, the base of the Xhakja clan. You will seduce Çela and convince him that you are there to procure a small number of girls …”
Kat nodded. She could see the logic given the accent with which she spoke her near perfect English, and she knew that English would be the language used to communicate between a Ukrainian girl and an Albanian man.
Marcus Devonshire smiled, then paused and turned his attention to Grace.
“Agent Miller we need you on the inside. We will arrange for your abduction by the two previously mentioned mafia gang members, and then we can track you to wherever the girls are being held.”
“Oh, that’s just splendid,” Grace could not help herself from reacting with a knee jerk response, “So I’m going to be the fucking whore-to-be, am I?” Her aggression masked the sickening feeling that was already building in her stomach. She felt Kat’s fingers touching hers under the table in an attempt at reassurance.
“You curse so nicely,” Novikova, referring to Miller’s cut-glass accent, whispered into her colleague’s ear with a smirk, “… but don’t worry, it will be fine.”
The room paused and silence momentarily reigned. “Any questions?” Moore asked.
He waited a few seconds, then added, “No? Good. Your full briefing packs are available now from Marcus. Good luck.”
And with that the meeting was over.
Grace Miller’s Rooms, Agent’s Quarters, Fort Monckton, Stokes Bay, Gosport, Hampshire, UK
The door to Grace’s room opened and Kat looked into the face of her friend, colleague and occasional lover. Ever since Kat had, by design, taken Grace’s virginity (see The Darkest Web), they had become much closer than mere friends.
Grace stood, a weak smile breaking her lips. Her pretty face usually lit when she smiled, but this one hardly touched her lips never mind her eyes. She stood to one side as Kat wandered in, watching as the older girl passed her by.
"Are you ok Grace?"
Agent Miller offered up a silent nod, holding back the tears she had been fighting ever since the briefing. Kat took her hand and led her into the living room. She slipped off her shoes and jacket and turned to face her friend with open arms, allowing the younger woman to step into them. It was like opening flood gates, and the tears flowed.
The girls stood in silence, Kat's arms tightly holding Grace as she sobbed. The younger, less experienced, girl felt as though she would never stop crying, but for the moment she simply took comfort in the warmth and care surrounding her.
Kat pulled away just a little and held Grace's hand. "Come on you, into the bedroom."
Grace followed in her friend’s wake, needing to let go of her emotions, allowing Kat to take charge. As the girls faced one another, Special Agent Novikova bent and kissed her colleague gently, softly. She moved soft lips across her friend’s lovely face, kissing her tears, her cheeks, her nose and finally her eyes.
"I'm sorry." Grace whispered sniffing.
"Hush." Kat answered gently and reached down to grab a tissue from the box at the side of the bed. She handed it to Grace and smiled. Grace took it with a crooked grin and blew her nose hard.
"Better?" She asked.
"Yes … no … maybe, I’m not sure." Grace answered with a shrug, another tear rolling slowly down her face.
"You will be fine Grace. It’s dangerous I know, but you will be tagged and I will be over there too. All we have to do is follow the plan, secure the location and provide an opportunity for the Special Services team to break the Network." Kat smiled as she lifted her hand and wiped away a tear with her thumb. Then she gathered the younger girl into her arms once more, kissing the top of her head and laying her cheek against it as she felt needy arms move once more around her body.
Grace breathed in deeply. Kat’s scent was so distinctive, perfume, clean clothes and clean skin. She ran her hands gently around the older girl’s waist and tightened her grip, holding as though her life depended on it, feeling that if she let go, she might lose her mind.
Kat sighed, her own fingers gently stroking her friend’s cheek, instilling comfort, eliciting a quiet whimper from the younger girl. Her relationship with Ekaterina provided Grace with the nearest thing she had to a family. Not that her own parents weren’t loving and caring, because they were, very much so. But right now, mummy and daddy were travelling in Asia and she couldn’t tell them anything about what she was doing.
Then Kat’s dexterous fingers began their desire fuelled movements.
One by one Grace’s clothes dropped to the floor until she was left standing wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy pink lace panties.
“Oh Kat, I’m so scared … what if they …”
“Shhhh baby,” Ekaterina whispered, her gaze shamelessly ogling the nubile beauty of the younger girl.
The two Agents stood, bodies pressing together, the warmth of their skin passing between them, until Kat pulled away.
"Bed." One word, softly spoken.
The older girl turned and moved onto the duvet, Grace followed and curled into her friend’s arms once more. She wished she could stay in this cocoon forever, closing the world and all its pains out, but she knew this was just a moment in time and that tomorrow “Operation Kushtrim” would be launched.
Surrounded by her own personal bubble wrap Agent Miller’s hands stilled and she lay unmoving, her breathing regulated, as she quietly drifted off to sleep in the arms of someone who truly cared, truly loved.
It was only Agent Miller’s second mission, but Ekaterina knew that she was going to be just fine.
To Be Continued …
Briefing Room, MI6 SIS Building, Lambeth, London, UK
At the instruction of the Head of MI6, Roger Moore, the small, select group gathered round the polished briefing table. He sat in the top position, in addition to which there were two central intelligence operatives, designated to maintain control of any operation from HQ. He had brought the team together to discuss what was quickly becoming a major problem for the UK Government, and Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova along with Agent Grace Miller waited impatiently to find out why they too had been summonsed.
“Another girl has been taken.” His opening Gambit referred to the reported disappearance of a twenty-four-year-old female, who, after heading out the previous evening to her Yoga Class, failed to return home to her partner.
“Surely this is a police matter.” Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova spoke up, still wondering what their part in all of this was, and then quickly looked across at Marcus Devonshire, Roger Moore’s Aide de camp.
“Normally, Special Agent Novikova, it would be, but we suspect that the girls … he said girls because yesterday’s disappearance was the latest in a series of abductions in the Greater London area … are being trafficked out to Albania.”
Kat nodded and then turned to frown at her friend and colleague, Agent Miller.
“If I may ask, Sir, what specific suspicions do we have?”
Marcus flicked his hand-held control which displayed a grainy close up from a restricted view camera showing the almost deserted car park from a suburban Community Centre. It showed two people engaged in what appeared to be aggressive behaviour towards a third. Moore’s aide then added the narrative. “Two of these individuals …” and it was very clear to which two Devonshire was referring, are Dalmat Elizi and Debora Hoxaj. They are both known Albanian mafia members with clear links to Alfonso Çela, Head of the Xhakja clan.”
Novikova and Miller both nodded, and exchanged a raised eyebrows glance at one another.
“Happy now Special Agent Novikova?”
Kat nodded.
“Okay, Marcus, please continue.”
Devonshire acknowledged his Commander, but this time, as he spoke, he addressed the two female MI6 Agents directly.
“We will be deploying the two of you to infiltrate the Network. You, Special Agent Novikova, will pose as the daughter of a Ukrainian ‘Businessman’, one who owns a series of brothels throughout the Ukraine, and you will be attending a dinner in Shijak, the base of the Xhakja clan. You will seduce Çela and convince him that you are there to procure a small number of girls …”
Kat nodded. She could see the logic given the accent with which she spoke her near perfect English, and she knew that English would be the language used to communicate between a Ukrainian girl and an Albanian man.
Marcus Devonshire smiled, then paused and turned his attention to Grace.
“Agent Miller we need you on the inside. We will arrange for your abduction by the two previously mentioned mafia gang members, and then we can track you to wherever the girls are being held.”
“Oh, that’s just splendid,” Grace could not help herself from reacting with a knee jerk response, “So I’m going to be the fucking whore-to-be, am I?” Her aggression masked the sickening feeling that was already building in her stomach. She felt Kat’s fingers touching hers under the table in an attempt at reassurance.
“You curse so nicely,” Novikova, referring to Miller’s cut-glass accent, whispered into her colleague’s ear with a smirk, “… but don’t worry, it will be fine.”
The room paused and silence momentarily reigned. “Any questions?” Moore asked.
He waited a few seconds, then added, “No? Good. Your full briefing packs are available now from Marcus. Good luck.”
And with that the meeting was over.
Grace Miller’s Rooms, Agent’s Quarters, Fort Monckton, Stokes Bay, Gosport, Hampshire, UK
The door to Grace’s room opened and Kat looked into the face of her friend, colleague and occasional lover. Ever since Kat had, by design, taken Grace’s virginity (see The Darkest Web), they had become much closer than mere friends.
Grace stood, a weak smile breaking her lips. Her pretty face usually lit when she smiled, but this one hardly touched her lips never mind her eyes. She stood to one side as Kat wandered in, watching as the older girl passed her by.
"Are you ok Grace?"
Agent Miller offered up a silent nod, holding back the tears she had been fighting ever since the briefing. Kat took her hand and led her into the living room. She slipped off her shoes and jacket and turned to face her friend with open arms, allowing the younger woman to step into them. It was like opening flood gates, and the tears flowed.
The girls stood in silence, Kat's arms tightly holding Grace as she sobbed. The younger, less experienced, girl felt as though she would never stop crying, but for the moment she simply took comfort in the warmth and care surrounding her.
Kat pulled away just a little and held Grace's hand. "Come on you, into the bedroom."
Grace followed in her friend’s wake, needing to let go of her emotions, allowing Kat to take charge. As the girls faced one another, Special Agent Novikova bent and kissed her colleague gently, softly. She moved soft lips across her friend’s lovely face, kissing her tears, her cheeks, her nose and finally her eyes.
"I'm sorry." Grace whispered sniffing.
"Hush." Kat answered gently and reached down to grab a tissue from the box at the side of the bed. She handed it to Grace and smiled. Grace took it with a crooked grin and blew her nose hard.
"Better?" She asked.
"Yes … no … maybe, I’m not sure." Grace answered with a shrug, another tear rolling slowly down her face.
"You will be fine Grace. It’s dangerous I know, but you will be tagged and I will be over there too. All we have to do is follow the plan, secure the location and provide an opportunity for the Special Services team to break the Network." Kat smiled as she lifted her hand and wiped away a tear with her thumb. Then she gathered the younger girl into her arms once more, kissing the top of her head and laying her cheek against it as she felt needy arms move once more around her body.
Grace breathed in deeply. Kat’s scent was so distinctive, perfume, clean clothes and clean skin. She ran her hands gently around the older girl’s waist and tightened her grip, holding as though her life depended on it, feeling that if she let go, she might lose her mind.
Kat sighed, her own fingers gently stroking her friend’s cheek, instilling comfort, eliciting a quiet whimper from the younger girl. Her relationship with Ekaterina provided Grace with the nearest thing she had to a family. Not that her own parents weren’t loving and caring, because they were, very much so. But right now, mummy and daddy were travelling in Asia and she couldn’t tell them anything about what she was doing.
Then Kat’s dexterous fingers began their desire fuelled movements.
One by one Grace’s clothes dropped to the floor until she was left standing wearing nothing but a pair of skimpy pink lace panties.
“Oh Kat, I’m so scared … what if they …”
“Shhhh baby,” Ekaterina whispered, her gaze shamelessly ogling the nubile beauty of the younger girl.
The two Agents stood, bodies pressing together, the warmth of their skin passing between them, until Kat pulled away.
"Bed." One word, softly spoken.
The older girl turned and moved onto the duvet, Grace followed and curled into her friend’s arms once more. She wished she could stay in this cocoon forever, closing the world and all its pains out, but she knew this was just a moment in time and that tomorrow “Operation Kushtrim” would be launched.
Surrounded by her own personal bubble wrap Agent Miller’s hands stilled and she lay unmoving, her breathing regulated, as she quietly drifted off to sleep in the arms of someone who truly cared, truly loved.
It was only Agent Miller’s second mission, but Ekaterina knew that she was going to be just fine.
To Be Continued …
Don’t count on it …
twonines
LIMERICUS
Of course not, your intimate knowledge of the risks inherent in these situations, is legendary.
messaline
Crucified Amazon
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Trafficked (3)
Asda Supermarket Superstore, Old Kent Road, South London, UK
The Asda store on The Old Kent Road was huge. A flagship Superstore … it had a separate Pharmacy, a MacDonald’s and a Filling Station on the estate, and inside it was many stores within one. It stayed open late, though not throughout all of the night, it was always busy.
Agent Grace Miller was nervous enough but to make matters worse she always seemed to get the shopping cart with the wobbly wheel. It veered to the right, and she had to keep pulling to the left to keep it straight. She could have gone back and picked another yet instead, she doggedly kept marching along the aisles, determined to appear normal.
Her left training shoe was bothering her, and for some reason she seemed to be constantly aware of how tight her jeans were. Oh God, the tension was unbearable. She knew that she was being watched and that at some point she would be taken … and Grace knew also that she had to make her own abduction seem real.
She grabbed things at random as she moved through the store. Her choices reflected her lack of planned thought … microwavable meals, two cans of peaches, some pre-packaged burgers, a jar of instant coffee, a box of cereal and a two-pint container of milk. Basic food as mummy would have said.
Grace pushed her hair back from her forehead with one hand while she unloaded her cart onto the conveyor belt. A pimply-faced boy scanned her purchases, looking bored, not bothering to make eye contact despite the pretty girl at his check-out, which was fine with the young, anxious Agent.
“Over there, she’s the one,” Debora Hoxaj whispered. She lifted her chin to indicate the target. The girl in the line looked to be in her early twenties. She was a pretty thing, tall with long dark hair that hung straight around a sullen face … just as the tip off from their network had indicated.
“Her?” Dalmat Elizi replied, squinting in confusion. He would have liked to take off the dark glasses he wore as part of his disguise to see her better, but Debora had cautioned him about store surveillance cameras.
“Fuck, she is stunning. Worth a lot of money baby.”
“Shh, lower your voice. You don’t want to attract attention,” Debora uttered quietly, her head down, her face obscured by a big, floppy hat. She was leafing through a magazine at a nearby closed checkout line.
“Right,” Dalmat muttered, pretending to choose a chocolate bar. “Sorry.” He re-examined the girl with a sidelong glance.
Without looking up, Debora murmured, “See the way she dresses, tight jeans, resigned expressionless scowl. Look in her cart. She’s definitely buying for one. There’s no one at home waiting for her, you can be certain. No ring. No makeup. No one to impress, and I’m guessing she’s got a nice little body under those clothes. She’s perfect.”
A slow, leering smile spread on Dalman’s face. His balls tightened with excitement, like someone had just turned a key and started his engine. They hung back, watching the girl pay for her things, and when she left the store, they followed, hats pulled down low, sunglasses in place.
The girl led them to an old beat-up Honda Civic, with a dent at the rear. Dalmat and Debora stayed one row of parked vehicles away, using the cover of a white van as they watched the girl. Dalmat was geared up for action.
“Let the fun begin,” he nudged his partner in crime impatiently. “She’s ripe for the plucking.” Debora lifted her chin resolutely, shoved her hands into her pockets and headed toward the girl. Dalmat moved stealthily along his row so he could watch and listen.
As his partner approached Grace’s car, she called out, “Excuse me?”
Agent Miller didn’t turn around, but kept fumbling with her car key.
Debora moved closer. “Excuse me. Can you help me?”
The girl, their mark, finally looked up with obvious reluctance. “What?” Grace attempted to downplay her distinct pronunciation and articulation.
“I’m so sorry to trouble you,” Debora continued in an anxious, slightly accented, trembling voice. She was so fucking good at this part. Hidden from view, Dalmat leaned closer to hear. “My car battery seems to have died. I was hoping you could give me a jumpstart? I have the cables.”
When the girl didn’t immediately respond, Debora’s face crumpled as she added, “Please. My husband will be so angry with me if I’m late again.” Dalmat grinned at the irony of her remark. As if Debs would be scared of anyone, she’d have any guy’s balls on a plate.
The man’s grin widened as his partner continued with emotion infusing her voice, “He has such a temper, and when I’m late, he takes it out on me and the kids.” She trailed off, looking so miserable and embarrassed that even Dalmat almost felt sorry for her.
Grace’s expression softened, and she gave a curt nod. “Okay, I guess.” She glanced around the parking area. “Where’s your car?”
“Thank you so much,” Debora gushed, really laying it on. “It’s over in the next row. I’ve been trying to find someone to help me for nearly twenty minutes, but I only like to approach a woman for help. I’m sure you understand. If you could just give me a ride over there, then I can direct you, that would make the most sense.”
Grace shrugged, nodded and smiled.
As the pair climbed into the Civic, Dalmat slid out of sight and pumped a fist of excitement low to his side. Debora had done it again. He took off at a trot weaving through the parked vehicles to avoid being in the girls’ line of sight.
The Albanian criminals, part of a much larger network, had no vehicle with them. Less to trace, and this particular spot in the car park, they knew, had very restricted exposure to the CCTV. As soon as the Civic pulled into the space beside the car which Debora had indicated was hers, Dalmat appeared at the driver’s side of the small Civic and yanked open the door. He reached for the girl’s seatbelt and released it. Before she could react, he grabbed Grace’s arm and pulled her out. Moving quickly, the man yanked one arm up hard behind her back, while covering her mouth with his free hand.
Agent Miller struggled against him, but she was genuinely no match for his strength, making her failure to overpower him seem straight forward and very authentic. Debora, meanwhile, leapt out of the passenger seat and pulled the back door open. The girl weighed almost nothing. It was easy for Dalmat to force her into the car and then slide in beside her before pulling the door closed. They had secured her in under fifteen seconds, whereupon Debora, already in the driver’s seat, drove sedately out of the car park.
As she turned onto the road, she reached into her bag for the syringe. Holding the yelping, thrashing girl with one arm, Dalmat accepted the hypodermic that Debora held up, her eyes still on the road. Pulling up Grace’s untucked tee shirt, he plunged the needle into her abdomen, releasing a powerful dose of a ketamine to incapacitate her.
Within seconds, Agent Miller’s struggling slowed and then ceased, her body going limp as her eyes rolled back into her head. Dalmat adjusted his position so that she lay in his lap, her body stretched out along the seat. Eager to see their new acquisition in the flesh, he bunched her tee shirt as high as it would go, and then pushed up her bra. Debora had been right, her breasts were large and held high with the firmness of youth, nicely rounded, with pale pink nipples.
“She’s got perfect tits,” he said, his cock stiffening with appreciation. “We’re going to have fun with this one.” He smiled, imagining all the wonderful, terrible things that would be done to her before she was deployed into their European club network. He twisted one of her nipples, just for fun. Grace didn’t even flinch. She was out cold.
Debora laughed. “I can’t wait to get her pictures over to Mister Çela.” Alfonso Çela was Head of the Xhakja clan, a particularly vicious faction of the Albanian Mafia notoriously ingrained in the European sex trafficking network. Debora and Dalmat worked for Çela.
“They picked out a good one for us this time,” Dalmat agreed admiringly. He mauled the girl’s breasts and then lightly slapped her face, which remained slack and still. She really was pretty, especially now that the scowl was off her face. His cock was painfully constricted inside his jeans.
As Debora pulled onto the highway, he unzipped his fly and adjusted himself. Too bad he’d had to knock her out. He would have liked to shove his cock down her throat right now and make her suck him off. Ah well, plenty of time for that later. He pushed her head forward so he had the room to free his erection. Fisting his shaft, he stared down at the girl, barely able to contain his excitement.
“Cum on her, Dal,” Debora said in a husky voice, and he saw she was watching in the rear-view mirror.
“Your wish is my command,” Dalmat said with a laugh. He squeezed the girl’s abundant breasts with one hand as he jerked himself off with the other. Aroused as he was, it didn’t take long. Pointing his aim, he shot his load onto Grace’s face and chest.
She was still out when they pulled around the back of the bricked-up shop front with the sign saying ‘Untitled Ltd’ above it, and parked the car in the shadows. This place was a perfect cover for their operation. The girls passed through here for no more than 24 hours before they were collected for Transport to Shijak in their home country. Some of them found their way back here when they were installed as prostitutes, some didn’t.
To Be Continued …
Asda Supermarket Superstore, Old Kent Road, South London, UK
The Asda store on The Old Kent Road was huge. A flagship Superstore … it had a separate Pharmacy, a MacDonald’s and a Filling Station on the estate, and inside it was many stores within one. It stayed open late, though not throughout all of the night, it was always busy.
Agent Grace Miller was nervous enough but to make matters worse she always seemed to get the shopping cart with the wobbly wheel. It veered to the right, and she had to keep pulling to the left to keep it straight. She could have gone back and picked another yet instead, she doggedly kept marching along the aisles, determined to appear normal.
Her left training shoe was bothering her, and for some reason she seemed to be constantly aware of how tight her jeans were. Oh God, the tension was unbearable. She knew that she was being watched and that at some point she would be taken … and Grace knew also that she had to make her own abduction seem real.
She grabbed things at random as she moved through the store. Her choices reflected her lack of planned thought … microwavable meals, two cans of peaches, some pre-packaged burgers, a jar of instant coffee, a box of cereal and a two-pint container of milk. Basic food as mummy would have said.
Grace pushed her hair back from her forehead with one hand while she unloaded her cart onto the conveyor belt. A pimply-faced boy scanned her purchases, looking bored, not bothering to make eye contact despite the pretty girl at his check-out, which was fine with the young, anxious Agent.
“Over there, she’s the one,” Debora Hoxaj whispered. She lifted her chin to indicate the target. The girl in the line looked to be in her early twenties. She was a pretty thing, tall with long dark hair that hung straight around a sullen face … just as the tip off from their network had indicated.
“Her?” Dalmat Elizi replied, squinting in confusion. He would have liked to take off the dark glasses he wore as part of his disguise to see her better, but Debora had cautioned him about store surveillance cameras.
“Fuck, she is stunning. Worth a lot of money baby.”
“Shh, lower your voice. You don’t want to attract attention,” Debora uttered quietly, her head down, her face obscured by a big, floppy hat. She was leafing through a magazine at a nearby closed checkout line.
“Right,” Dalmat muttered, pretending to choose a chocolate bar. “Sorry.” He re-examined the girl with a sidelong glance.
Without looking up, Debora murmured, “See the way she dresses, tight jeans, resigned expressionless scowl. Look in her cart. She’s definitely buying for one. There’s no one at home waiting for her, you can be certain. No ring. No makeup. No one to impress, and I’m guessing she’s got a nice little body under those clothes. She’s perfect.”
A slow, leering smile spread on Dalman’s face. His balls tightened with excitement, like someone had just turned a key and started his engine. They hung back, watching the girl pay for her things, and when she left the store, they followed, hats pulled down low, sunglasses in place.
The girl led them to an old beat-up Honda Civic, with a dent at the rear. Dalmat and Debora stayed one row of parked vehicles away, using the cover of a white van as they watched the girl. Dalmat was geared up for action.
“Let the fun begin,” he nudged his partner in crime impatiently. “She’s ripe for the plucking.” Debora lifted her chin resolutely, shoved her hands into her pockets and headed toward the girl. Dalmat moved stealthily along his row so he could watch and listen.
As his partner approached Grace’s car, she called out, “Excuse me?”
Agent Miller didn’t turn around, but kept fumbling with her car key.
Debora moved closer. “Excuse me. Can you help me?”
The girl, their mark, finally looked up with obvious reluctance. “What?” Grace attempted to downplay her distinct pronunciation and articulation.
“I’m so sorry to trouble you,” Debora continued in an anxious, slightly accented, trembling voice. She was so fucking good at this part. Hidden from view, Dalmat leaned closer to hear. “My car battery seems to have died. I was hoping you could give me a jumpstart? I have the cables.”
When the girl didn’t immediately respond, Debora’s face crumpled as she added, “Please. My husband will be so angry with me if I’m late again.” Dalmat grinned at the irony of her remark. As if Debs would be scared of anyone, she’d have any guy’s balls on a plate.
The man’s grin widened as his partner continued with emotion infusing her voice, “He has such a temper, and when I’m late, he takes it out on me and the kids.” She trailed off, looking so miserable and embarrassed that even Dalmat almost felt sorry for her.
Grace’s expression softened, and she gave a curt nod. “Okay, I guess.” She glanced around the parking area. “Where’s your car?”
“Thank you so much,” Debora gushed, really laying it on. “It’s over in the next row. I’ve been trying to find someone to help me for nearly twenty minutes, but I only like to approach a woman for help. I’m sure you understand. If you could just give me a ride over there, then I can direct you, that would make the most sense.”
Grace shrugged, nodded and smiled.
As the pair climbed into the Civic, Dalmat slid out of sight and pumped a fist of excitement low to his side. Debora had done it again. He took off at a trot weaving through the parked vehicles to avoid being in the girls’ line of sight.
The Albanian criminals, part of a much larger network, had no vehicle with them. Less to trace, and this particular spot in the car park, they knew, had very restricted exposure to the CCTV. As soon as the Civic pulled into the space beside the car which Debora had indicated was hers, Dalmat appeared at the driver’s side of the small Civic and yanked open the door. He reached for the girl’s seatbelt and released it. Before she could react, he grabbed Grace’s arm and pulled her out. Moving quickly, the man yanked one arm up hard behind her back, while covering her mouth with his free hand.
Agent Miller struggled against him, but she was genuinely no match for his strength, making her failure to overpower him seem straight forward and very authentic. Debora, meanwhile, leapt out of the passenger seat and pulled the back door open. The girl weighed almost nothing. It was easy for Dalmat to force her into the car and then slide in beside her before pulling the door closed. They had secured her in under fifteen seconds, whereupon Debora, already in the driver’s seat, drove sedately out of the car park.
As she turned onto the road, she reached into her bag for the syringe. Holding the yelping, thrashing girl with one arm, Dalmat accepted the hypodermic that Debora held up, her eyes still on the road. Pulling up Grace’s untucked tee shirt, he plunged the needle into her abdomen, releasing a powerful dose of a ketamine to incapacitate her.
Within seconds, Agent Miller’s struggling slowed and then ceased, her body going limp as her eyes rolled back into her head. Dalmat adjusted his position so that she lay in his lap, her body stretched out along the seat. Eager to see their new acquisition in the flesh, he bunched her tee shirt as high as it would go, and then pushed up her bra. Debora had been right, her breasts were large and held high with the firmness of youth, nicely rounded, with pale pink nipples.
“She’s got perfect tits,” he said, his cock stiffening with appreciation. “We’re going to have fun with this one.” He smiled, imagining all the wonderful, terrible things that would be done to her before she was deployed into their European club network. He twisted one of her nipples, just for fun. Grace didn’t even flinch. She was out cold.
Debora laughed. “I can’t wait to get her pictures over to Mister Çela.” Alfonso Çela was Head of the Xhakja clan, a particularly vicious faction of the Albanian Mafia notoriously ingrained in the European sex trafficking network. Debora and Dalmat worked for Çela.
“They picked out a good one for us this time,” Dalmat agreed admiringly. He mauled the girl’s breasts and then lightly slapped her face, which remained slack and still. She really was pretty, especially now that the scowl was off her face. His cock was painfully constricted inside his jeans.
As Debora pulled onto the highway, he unzipped his fly and adjusted himself. Too bad he’d had to knock her out. He would have liked to shove his cock down her throat right now and make her suck him off. Ah well, plenty of time for that later. He pushed her head forward so he had the room to free his erection. Fisting his shaft, he stared down at the girl, barely able to contain his excitement.
“Cum on her, Dal,” Debora said in a husky voice, and he saw she was watching in the rear-view mirror.
“Your wish is my command,” Dalmat said with a laugh. He squeezed the girl’s abundant breasts with one hand as he jerked himself off with the other. Aroused as he was, it didn’t take long. Pointing his aim, he shot his load onto Grace’s face and chest.
She was still out when they pulled around the back of the bricked-up shop front with the sign saying ‘Untitled Ltd’ above it, and parked the car in the shadows. This place was a perfect cover for their operation. The girls passed through here for no more than 24 hours before they were collected for Transport to Shijak in their home country. Some of them found their way back here when they were installed as prostitutes, some didn’t.
To Be Continued …
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
I can assure you old one that apart from shopping there most weeks, I have no affiliation to Asda whatsoever lol ...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Trafficked (4)
Villa Xhakja, The Çela Family home on the banks of Lake Bovilla, Durres, Albania
Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova lowered her black cocktail dress, smoothed it over her hips, and adjusted the top over her breasts. The dress was Vera Wang, and single pearl drop earrings dangled from each earlobe. Her blonde hair coiffured sensually around her pretty face. All expenses paid courtesy of the UK Government.
And right now, Kat was in one of the most elegantly adorned rest rooms she had ever seen.
A gold-edged mirror hung above white marble sink tops and brushed chrome fixtures adorned the integrated basins. A few personal amenities in matching canisters sat on the counter; hand soap, lotion, and mouthwash.
Against the far wall sat a single white toilet and a bidet made from the same marble as the countertops. Impressionist art hung on the walls, and a bouquet of fragrant flowers in a crystal vase occupied a small table. There were no windows, but the dozens of crystal droplets on the mini-chandelier scattered warm light throughout the room.
The guest bathroom was on the ground floor of an immaculate villa nestled on the shores of Lake Bovilla in Durres, Albania. The sun had dipped below the horizon before Kat’s arrival allowing the calm surface of the lake to reflect the silver glimmer of the full moon.
MI6 had secured one of the coveted invitations to the popular black-tie affair at Villa Xhakja, hosted by its owners - the Çela family. The sprawling structure sat on two acres of land and was enclosed by a series of stone walls and wrought-iron gates. Every year, the notorious Mafia clan held a charity Gala dinner. It was one way they had of maintaining their benevolent façade, which, of course everyone on either side of the ‘criminal line’ knew that they were not.
Aside from the charitable aspect, the event had long been revered for its delectable dining options. Despite being resident in Cyprus, famous Albanian Head Chef, Ravajol Hasani, had the honour of preparing the evening’s feast. Great pains were always taken to ensure the secrecy of the menu until the removal of the silver cloches covering each course. Tonight’s guests would be dining on grilled dough with goose meat and apple cream along with Fresh cranberry mash, leeks and roasted nettles …
Outside of the many gastronomic reasons to be present at this auspicious gathering, the gala gave attendees, a long list of Albania’s great and good as well as the mean and bad, an opportunity to forge relationships that would lead to lucrative business deals. While the invitation allowed entry, it also required a donation of thirty-five million Albanian lek, and encouraged guests to take part in the silent charity auction where bids often ran into the millions.
So not only did a person have to be ‘somebody’ to receive an invitation, it required his or her pockets to be deep and generous. How MI6 managed to get Special Agent Novikova an invitation, and make the required donation of an amount that approximated to almost a quarter of a million pounds sterling, was beyond the comprehension of Ekaterina, but hers was not to reason why!
Time to locate her mark.
That so many people attended this was mind boggling to the Special Agent. The lake views were stunning, so the attraction from a touristic perspective was obvious, but these people weren’t here on a ten-day tour of the region. She highly doubted the Çelas’ guests were genuine friends, and suspected attendance had more to do with the multiplicity of core and shady business interests that kept the family at the top of its tree
It didn’t take long for Kat to spot the owner and host, Alfonso Çela … Head of the Xhakja mafia clan.
As soon as Kat popped out from behind an ornate white pillar, Alfredo’s eyes fell upon the Special Agent, resulting in a double take and a hint of a smile. As she neared the bar, he excused himself from his circle and intercepted her.
“Hi,” Kat smiled revealing her accented English.
“Hello. Would you like a drink?” he responded in words tinged with an Italian accent. “Dom Perignon from 2010. I hope you’ll find this particular vintage satisfactory, Ms....” Çela continued.
“Jelic. Yulia Jelic.” Kat used the name under which she had travelled, the secure pseudonym against which her current back story had been built.
His expression manifested a question, which Kat answered without him having to ask it.
“My father is Ukranian, and my mother is from London,” She followed up. Çela visibly relaxed and smiled.
“Ahhh yes, now I recall from the invitation list, Miss Jelic, I have been looking forward to meeting you.”
Kat brought the glass to her lips and drank.
“How is the Champagne?” The Mafia Don motioned with the flute that he held.
“Delicious, thank you.”
He nodded.
“So, you know why my father sent me?” Kat asked the question noticing how, despite the criss-cross of welts and scars that adorned her chest, his eyes were already focused on the exposed and provocative expanse of cleavage that was on display.
“Of course.” Çela responded, “And tomorrow I will show you what you wish to see.”
Kat smiled and took another drink.
“Do you personally know all of your guests?” She asked.
“Mostly. I make their business my business.”
“Is it always business with you?”
“Depends on the company I share.” His smile widened.
“Mr. Çela, you strike me as a man who always gets what he wants.”
“Please, call me Alfredo. And yes, when something or someone gains my attention, that is usually the case.” Kat took another sip of the wonderful Champagne.
“You have a beautiful home.”
“It’s been in my family for many generations.” He grabbed another glass of champagne and then offered Kat his arm. “Come, I’ll give you a personal tour.”
Kat smiled.
Perfect.
To Be Continued …
Villa Xhakja, The Çela Family home on the banks of Lake Bovilla, Durres, Albania
Special Agent Ekaterina Novikova lowered her black cocktail dress, smoothed it over her hips, and adjusted the top over her breasts. The dress was Vera Wang, and single pearl drop earrings dangled from each earlobe. Her blonde hair coiffured sensually around her pretty face. All expenses paid courtesy of the UK Government.
And right now, Kat was in one of the most elegantly adorned rest rooms she had ever seen.
A gold-edged mirror hung above white marble sink tops and brushed chrome fixtures adorned the integrated basins. A few personal amenities in matching canisters sat on the counter; hand soap, lotion, and mouthwash.
Against the far wall sat a single white toilet and a bidet made from the same marble as the countertops. Impressionist art hung on the walls, and a bouquet of fragrant flowers in a crystal vase occupied a small table. There were no windows, but the dozens of crystal droplets on the mini-chandelier scattered warm light throughout the room.
The guest bathroom was on the ground floor of an immaculate villa nestled on the shores of Lake Bovilla in Durres, Albania. The sun had dipped below the horizon before Kat’s arrival allowing the calm surface of the lake to reflect the silver glimmer of the full moon.
MI6 had secured one of the coveted invitations to the popular black-tie affair at Villa Xhakja, hosted by its owners - the Çela family. The sprawling structure sat on two acres of land and was enclosed by a series of stone walls and wrought-iron gates. Every year, the notorious Mafia clan held a charity Gala dinner. It was one way they had of maintaining their benevolent façade, which, of course everyone on either side of the ‘criminal line’ knew that they were not.
Aside from the charitable aspect, the event had long been revered for its delectable dining options. Despite being resident in Cyprus, famous Albanian Head Chef, Ravajol Hasani, had the honour of preparing the evening’s feast. Great pains were always taken to ensure the secrecy of the menu until the removal of the silver cloches covering each course. Tonight’s guests would be dining on grilled dough with goose meat and apple cream along with Fresh cranberry mash, leeks and roasted nettles …
Outside of the many gastronomic reasons to be present at this auspicious gathering, the gala gave attendees, a long list of Albania’s great and good as well as the mean and bad, an opportunity to forge relationships that would lead to lucrative business deals. While the invitation allowed entry, it also required a donation of thirty-five million Albanian lek, and encouraged guests to take part in the silent charity auction where bids often ran into the millions.
So not only did a person have to be ‘somebody’ to receive an invitation, it required his or her pockets to be deep and generous. How MI6 managed to get Special Agent Novikova an invitation, and make the required donation of an amount that approximated to almost a quarter of a million pounds sterling, was beyond the comprehension of Ekaterina, but hers was not to reason why!
Time to locate her mark.
That so many people attended this was mind boggling to the Special Agent. The lake views were stunning, so the attraction from a touristic perspective was obvious, but these people weren’t here on a ten-day tour of the region. She highly doubted the Çelas’ guests were genuine friends, and suspected attendance had more to do with the multiplicity of core and shady business interests that kept the family at the top of its tree
It didn’t take long for Kat to spot the owner and host, Alfonso Çela … Head of the Xhakja mafia clan.
As soon as Kat popped out from behind an ornate white pillar, Alfredo’s eyes fell upon the Special Agent, resulting in a double take and a hint of a smile. As she neared the bar, he excused himself from his circle and intercepted her.
“Hi,” Kat smiled revealing her accented English.
“Hello. Would you like a drink?” he responded in words tinged with an Italian accent. “Dom Perignon from 2010. I hope you’ll find this particular vintage satisfactory, Ms....” Çela continued.
“Jelic. Yulia Jelic.” Kat used the name under which she had travelled, the secure pseudonym against which her current back story had been built.
His expression manifested a question, which Kat answered without him having to ask it.
“My father is Ukranian, and my mother is from London,” She followed up. Çela visibly relaxed and smiled.
“Ahhh yes, now I recall from the invitation list, Miss Jelic, I have been looking forward to meeting you.”
Kat brought the glass to her lips and drank.
“How is the Champagne?” The Mafia Don motioned with the flute that he held.
“Delicious, thank you.”
He nodded.
“So, you know why my father sent me?” Kat asked the question noticing how, despite the criss-cross of welts and scars that adorned her chest, his eyes were already focused on the exposed and provocative expanse of cleavage that was on display.
“Of course.” Çela responded, “And tomorrow I will show you what you wish to see.”
Kat smiled and took another drink.
“Do you personally know all of your guests?” She asked.
“Mostly. I make their business my business.”
“Is it always business with you?”
“Depends on the company I share.” His smile widened.
“Mr. Çela, you strike me as a man who always gets what he wants.”
“Please, call me Alfredo. And yes, when something or someone gains my attention, that is usually the case.” Kat took another sip of the wonderful Champagne.
“You have a beautiful home.”
“It’s been in my family for many generations.” He grabbed another glass of champagne and then offered Kat his arm. “Come, I’ll give you a personal tour.”
Kat smiled.
Perfect.
To Be Continued …
That single word applies to Kat’s success so far as well as to the writer’s craft that went into the drafting of this episode.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Trafficked (5)
A Private Airfield somewhere on the outskirts of Shijak, Albania.
Grace had been surprised by the journey. Expecting to be contained in package casing, or chained in the hold of boat, she and several other girls, had, in fact, been flown on a small, private, chartered plane out to an Albanian airfield.
There was no passport control, no security and now no limits on what could and could not be done to her! Grace was scared, and she fiddled nervously with the small ring on her little finger, the one with the GPS tracker built into it. That ring, and Kat, were her only hopes of making it through this damned awful situation in one piece!
Upon exit two tattooed male arms holding black material shot out at her and quickly slipped a bag over Agent Miller’s head! She screamed to no avail as she was pushed into the waiting car, whereupon another set of hands snapped handcuffs around her wrists. Each girl was taken from the airfield in a separate vehicle.
A hoarse, male voice, speaking accented English, croaked at her menacingly. "Shut up! Don't struggle and you won’t get hurt!"
Despite knowing that this was her job, Grace could not stop a tear from falling, although her quiet sob remained invisible underneath the bag. However, suddenly recalling who she was and why she was here, Agent Miller composed herself and tried to focus on the assignment.
She believed there were two people in the car with her. Was there an Airfield name she could recall seeing? Were they in fact really now in Albania? Would she make it out of this alive? Would Kat be here for her? Would she ever see mummy and daddy again? Oh crap … more tears began to fall.
Grace heard the car door close and then quiet male voices began to whisper. Even though they spoke sometimes in English and sometimes in Albanian, she couldn't quite make out what they were saying but she could tell that whatever it was did not bode well for her or any of the other girls!
A Guest Bedroom at Villa Xhakja, The Çela Family home on the banks of Lake Bovilla, Durres, Albania
“So, when do I get to see the whores?” Special Agent Novikova, now posing as Yulia Jelic, asked the older man who was slowly closing the door to the room.
“All in good time Miss Jelic, all in good time.” His demeanour had taken on a slightly edgy feel and the MI6 Agent was on her guard.
“You do understand why you are here Miss Jelic, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then, if you wish to see my girls, especially if you wish to procure them or their services, there is a rite of passage that you must endure.”
… Endure … The word raised an immediate red flag inside Kat’s mind.
“So, you understand what is expected of you?”
“Yes.” She could certainly guess.
“Then, please do not fight me.”
Those words brought a wry smile to her lips. Fight? It's what I do. Even when it seems hopeless, I will still fight. She hoped that she would not have reason to …
Alfonso Çela stared at her face for another long moment. Then his eyes moved lower to her breasts. He turned towards the drink cabinet.
“Don’t you have other guests to look after?” She asked.
He grinned at her, or was it a smirk, “They are well enough attended to, don’t you worry Miss Jelic.”
“You have scars,” he said as he gazed at her chest, and then down at her legs whilst handing her a shot of Vodka.
Accepting the drink Kat smiled weakly, nodded and looked down at the floor, saying quietly, “I do.”
Çela cocked his head as if waiting for her to say more. But the Special Agent did not.
He took a long drink of his whisky and used his other hand to trace along the side of her body.
“You are unusual, my dear. Very intriguing. Most girls would seem nervous,” his hand trailed down, and squeezed her breast. “Yet you do not. I think that you do not quite understand what's going on.”
Taking Ekaterina’s drink from her his expression changed. “Move back to the wall Miss Jelic, please.”
With a surprised look on her pretty face, Kat did as she was asked and, with a glance over her shoulder, noticed for the first time why her host had chosen this particular bedroom in which to entertain her.
He leaned forward, his body pressing into hers, forcing her against the pale-blue painted plaster from which protruded a set of wrist manacles, each one on a separate chain that fed back into a single eye bolt secured into the wall.
Kat gasped, genuinely shocked, but tried to make it appear that she was at least experiencing a measure of anticipatory excitement.
“Do not fight this, Miss Jelic.”
“I … I won’t” Kat replied. With her wrists secured at either side of her head, she could not move from the chains. His lips were centimetres from her ear as he spoke, “I'm going to do things to you that you cannot imagine.”
Kat closed her eyes. What had she gotten herself into? Although she doubted very much that she wouldn’t be able to imagine them!
At the same moment he spoke, he reached above her head and flipped a switch, causing the chains to loosen just enough for him to push her to her knees. Kat recovered from the surprise quickly, and, looking up, her eyes sought his out, as he towered above her.
“This is the point, my dear, where you start to beg.”
Kat smiled and forced herself to lick slowly around her lips in her continued attempt to appear as provocative as possible.
She held his gaze as she began. “What exactly do you want me to beg for?” Her gaze drifted to his crotch, which was at eye level, where the bulge was straining against his tailored suit, “Do you want me to beg you to fuck me?”
Something primal crossed his face then. Clearly, he'd not expected this sort of reaction. Kat knew from his files that he was a control freak in everything from his criminal empire to his family and social life … incredibly organized, very orderly. His life was ruled by precision, and of course in his fantasies he would be exactly the same. He would expect her to scream, to cry, to beg. But a little of the unexpected would help her to gain all of the leverage she could in order to get what it was that she needed … access to the girls.
She stared into the eyes of the monster, the look of desire making her lids appear heavy, and suddenly he lost the control he'd kept such a tight rein on. He tossed back the rest of his drink, then threw the empty glass into the corner, shattering it.
Kat gasped as one of Çela’s hands grabbed a huge mass of her blonde hair, whilst the other unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. He pulled out the one of the largest cocks she had ever seen. It was long, thick, already engorged to an almost purple hue. She could see the veins furiously pumping blood along the rigid length, and already a drop of juice oozed from the head.
He slowly ran his hand up and down the length, keeping a tight hold on Kat’s hair. He jerked her head back a little so that he was sure she was staring at his shaft. “
Ever seen anything like this?” he slapped it against her cheek. It was heavy, hard, and, damn … it hurt. He liked to see her wince, so he did the same thing to the other side. Kat could feel his pre-cum splash against her face as he continued to prolong her humiliation.
If he wanted begging, she'd give it to him. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, what?” he asked, slowly rubbing the head against her lips. “Put it in my mouth,” she pleaded.
“Master...” he prompted. She wanted to recoil from the appellation. Yet it seemed so appropriate right there and then. “Please put it in my mouth … Master.”
Without further preamble, he forced her lips wide and thrust the entire length forward in a single motion. He was long and thick, yet still he shoved until it was curving down her throat, where he held it in situ, constricting her air passage, restricting her ability to breathe.
Çela watched Kat’s eyes as she struggled to inhale, and when he sensed that she was at the verge of passing out, he pulled out, before immediately jamming it back in, leaving a sticky web of abundant saliva dripping from her chin.
A few thrusts for his pleasure, then he'd show her again what it felt like not to breathe. He was trying to make her cower, to force her into being his sex slave. Kat knew there was no way she was going to avoid the impending throat fucking … and, to prove her point for her, Çela simply kept going, thrusting deep between her drying lips before pulling back out to the head. Then again, he would smash into her, stuffing her mouth full to the brim.
Kat let herself go, let herself feel the fear, slackened her jaw like she had been taught to do, and the expression that crossed her eyes was exactly what he needed to see. He held her gaze, watching her submission with an intensity fuelled only by his lust. The sight of her ‘accepting’ face as he thrust into her mouth took him over the edge. He spilled his seed down her throat whilst holding her head in a tight grip forcing Kat to quickly swallow wave after wave of viscous, white seed.
When he finally finished, he pulled out, and she fell forward. Not a drip fell from her lips.
“Now you understand how serious I am about my pleasure, Miss Jelic?”
When her eyes found his, they were glazed over, as if just maybe she'd actually enjoyed what had happened.
“I never doubted it for one second,” she replied having swallowed his entire load.
To Be Continued …
A Private Airfield somewhere on the outskirts of Shijak, Albania.
Grace had been surprised by the journey. Expecting to be contained in package casing, or chained in the hold of boat, she and several other girls, had, in fact, been flown on a small, private, chartered plane out to an Albanian airfield.
There was no passport control, no security and now no limits on what could and could not be done to her! Grace was scared, and she fiddled nervously with the small ring on her little finger, the one with the GPS tracker built into it. That ring, and Kat, were her only hopes of making it through this damned awful situation in one piece!
Upon exit two tattooed male arms holding black material shot out at her and quickly slipped a bag over Agent Miller’s head! She screamed to no avail as she was pushed into the waiting car, whereupon another set of hands snapped handcuffs around her wrists. Each girl was taken from the airfield in a separate vehicle.
A hoarse, male voice, speaking accented English, croaked at her menacingly. "Shut up! Don't struggle and you won’t get hurt!"
Despite knowing that this was her job, Grace could not stop a tear from falling, although her quiet sob remained invisible underneath the bag. However, suddenly recalling who she was and why she was here, Agent Miller composed herself and tried to focus on the assignment.
She believed there were two people in the car with her. Was there an Airfield name she could recall seeing? Were they in fact really now in Albania? Would she make it out of this alive? Would Kat be here for her? Would she ever see mummy and daddy again? Oh crap … more tears began to fall.
Grace heard the car door close and then quiet male voices began to whisper. Even though they spoke sometimes in English and sometimes in Albanian, she couldn't quite make out what they were saying but she could tell that whatever it was did not bode well for her or any of the other girls!
A Guest Bedroom at Villa Xhakja, The Çela Family home on the banks of Lake Bovilla, Durres, Albania
“So, when do I get to see the whores?” Special Agent Novikova, now posing as Yulia Jelic, asked the older man who was slowly closing the door to the room.
“All in good time Miss Jelic, all in good time.” His demeanour had taken on a slightly edgy feel and the MI6 Agent was on her guard.
“You do understand why you are here Miss Jelic, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then, if you wish to see my girls, especially if you wish to procure them or their services, there is a rite of passage that you must endure.”
… Endure … The word raised an immediate red flag inside Kat’s mind.
“So, you understand what is expected of you?”
“Yes.” She could certainly guess.
“Then, please do not fight me.”
Those words brought a wry smile to her lips. Fight? It's what I do. Even when it seems hopeless, I will still fight. She hoped that she would not have reason to …
Alfonso Çela stared at her face for another long moment. Then his eyes moved lower to her breasts. He turned towards the drink cabinet.
“Don’t you have other guests to look after?” She asked.
He grinned at her, or was it a smirk, “They are well enough attended to, don’t you worry Miss Jelic.”
“You have scars,” he said as he gazed at her chest, and then down at her legs whilst handing her a shot of Vodka.
Accepting the drink Kat smiled weakly, nodded and looked down at the floor, saying quietly, “I do.”
Çela cocked his head as if waiting for her to say more. But the Special Agent did not.
He took a long drink of his whisky and used his other hand to trace along the side of her body.
“You are unusual, my dear. Very intriguing. Most girls would seem nervous,” his hand trailed down, and squeezed her breast. “Yet you do not. I think that you do not quite understand what's going on.”
Taking Ekaterina’s drink from her his expression changed. “Move back to the wall Miss Jelic, please.”
With a surprised look on her pretty face, Kat did as she was asked and, with a glance over her shoulder, noticed for the first time why her host had chosen this particular bedroom in which to entertain her.
He leaned forward, his body pressing into hers, forcing her against the pale-blue painted plaster from which protruded a set of wrist manacles, each one on a separate chain that fed back into a single eye bolt secured into the wall.
Kat gasped, genuinely shocked, but tried to make it appear that she was at least experiencing a measure of anticipatory excitement.
“Do not fight this, Miss Jelic.”
“I … I won’t” Kat replied. With her wrists secured at either side of her head, she could not move from the chains. His lips were centimetres from her ear as he spoke, “I'm going to do things to you that you cannot imagine.”
Kat closed her eyes. What had she gotten herself into? Although she doubted very much that she wouldn’t be able to imagine them!
At the same moment he spoke, he reached above her head and flipped a switch, causing the chains to loosen just enough for him to push her to her knees. Kat recovered from the surprise quickly, and, looking up, her eyes sought his out, as he towered above her.
“This is the point, my dear, where you start to beg.”
Kat smiled and forced herself to lick slowly around her lips in her continued attempt to appear as provocative as possible.
She held his gaze as she began. “What exactly do you want me to beg for?” Her gaze drifted to his crotch, which was at eye level, where the bulge was straining against his tailored suit, “Do you want me to beg you to fuck me?”
Something primal crossed his face then. Clearly, he'd not expected this sort of reaction. Kat knew from his files that he was a control freak in everything from his criminal empire to his family and social life … incredibly organized, very orderly. His life was ruled by precision, and of course in his fantasies he would be exactly the same. He would expect her to scream, to cry, to beg. But a little of the unexpected would help her to gain all of the leverage she could in order to get what it was that she needed … access to the girls.
She stared into the eyes of the monster, the look of desire making her lids appear heavy, and suddenly he lost the control he'd kept such a tight rein on. He tossed back the rest of his drink, then threw the empty glass into the corner, shattering it.
Kat gasped as one of Çela’s hands grabbed a huge mass of her blonde hair, whilst the other unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. He pulled out the one of the largest cocks she had ever seen. It was long, thick, already engorged to an almost purple hue. She could see the veins furiously pumping blood along the rigid length, and already a drop of juice oozed from the head.
He slowly ran his hand up and down the length, keeping a tight hold on Kat’s hair. He jerked her head back a little so that he was sure she was staring at his shaft. “
Ever seen anything like this?” he slapped it against her cheek. It was heavy, hard, and, damn … it hurt. He liked to see her wince, so he did the same thing to the other side. Kat could feel his pre-cum splash against her face as he continued to prolong her humiliation.
If he wanted begging, she'd give it to him. “Please,” she whispered. “Please, what?” he asked, slowly rubbing the head against her lips. “Put it in my mouth,” she pleaded.
“Master...” he prompted. She wanted to recoil from the appellation. Yet it seemed so appropriate right there and then. “Please put it in my mouth … Master.”
Without further preamble, he forced her lips wide and thrust the entire length forward in a single motion. He was long and thick, yet still he shoved until it was curving down her throat, where he held it in situ, constricting her air passage, restricting her ability to breathe.
Çela watched Kat’s eyes as she struggled to inhale, and when he sensed that she was at the verge of passing out, he pulled out, before immediately jamming it back in, leaving a sticky web of abundant saliva dripping from her chin.
A few thrusts for his pleasure, then he'd show her again what it felt like not to breathe. He was trying to make her cower, to force her into being his sex slave. Kat knew there was no way she was going to avoid the impending throat fucking … and, to prove her point for her, Çela simply kept going, thrusting deep between her drying lips before pulling back out to the head. Then again, he would smash into her, stuffing her mouth full to the brim.
Kat let herself go, let herself feel the fear, slackened her jaw like she had been taught to do, and the expression that crossed her eyes was exactly what he needed to see. He held her gaze, watching her submission with an intensity fuelled only by his lust. The sight of her ‘accepting’ face as he thrust into her mouth took him over the edge. He spilled his seed down her throat whilst holding her head in a tight grip forcing Kat to quickly swallow wave after wave of viscous, white seed.
When he finally finished, he pulled out, and she fell forward. Not a drip fell from her lips.
“Now you understand how serious I am about my pleasure, Miss Jelic?”
When her eyes found his, they were glazed over, as if just maybe she'd actually enjoyed what had happened.
“I never doubted it for one second,” she replied having swallowed his entire load.
To Be Continued …