Nicole Wallace stories of bdsm and control various F/F some F/M

[mega23101982]

Two Agents in Trouble Nicole in the early days! (F/F Scenes)!



It was a warm summer day, when Vanessa and Joanna were ready to finally catch and arrest their long time target.

Vanessa and Joanna were two very successful secret agents with great reputation after having so many solved cases in the past. The spies had everything. They were young, intelligent, flexible. They were also very similar not only on the way they were working, but also on their physical appearance. Both of them were beautiful, but a very distinct thing they had was their hair colour, since Vanessa was the blonde and Joanna a brunette. Both of them around late 20s.

The name of their target was Nicole Wallace, (Olivia D’Arbo), a young woman also around her late 20s that was staying in a remote motel for the last few days. Nicole had robbed many houses the last few months and was ready to leave this small community with many bags of money and jewellery.

Vanessa and Joanna were observing Nicole for hours when they finally decided to make their move and entered her motel room, while Samantha was out. After a few minutes the two secret agents were in the room waiting for Nicole to return. Nicole returned on her room, completely unaware about the two agents on her room. She opened the door and stepped inside.

“Don’t move! Hands Up!” Joanna revealed herself, pointing her gun to Nicole.

Nicole hesitantly put her hands on the air, following Joanna’s orders.

“Nicole Wallace, you are under arrest” Vanessa said, handcuffing Nicole’s hands behind her back.

“You are making a big mistake ladies, let me go and I promise I'll go easy on you” Nicole said as her hands were handcuffed behind her back.

“You hear that Joanna? She is giving us a chance to let her go” Vanessa chuckled “Sit on the bed!” she ordered. Nicole sat on the bed, while the two secret agents began searching the rest of the room. Joanna opened one of the two bags of Nicole. Many pairs of handcuffs, rolls of duct tape and many other things were inside.

“I think we have a very naughty girl here, Vanessa!” Joanna snickered, making her partner laugh “Claire Delane? I guess that’s her fake ID that she uses.” She continued, finding Nicoles fake ID.

“Don’t you dare touch my stuff, you pigs! You have done a very big mistake! This is your last chance to let me go.” Nicole growled angrily.

“I think we have a talker here.” Vanessa said as she grabbed the roll of duct tape "...and trust me, I find talkers very annoying"

“When I get out of here I will make you regret mmmmpphhh” Nicole’s sentence was interrupted as a wide strip of tape, taped her mouth shut.

“Yeah, yeah we know. Every time the same threats.” Vanessa said as she taped her prisoners mouth.

“Now be a good girl and stay still and quiet as we search the place” Joanna caressed the prisoners cheek and returned on searching the place. Now that Nicole was handcuffed and quiet on her bed, the two agents could search the room without any interruptions.

Nicole on the other hand, slowly began loosening the cuffs. In a few seconds her hands were free. Vanessa and Joanna kept searching the room, without having notice that her prisoner had basically manage to release herself. With a very quick move Nicole grabbed her gun pointed it to the two agents. Vanessa and Joanna turned towards her, but the prisoner was already free.

“How did you…?” Vanessa was stunned, when she saw Nicole having her hands free.

“I’m a handcuff expert you stupid bitch” Nicole said ripping the strip of tape from her lips “Now put your guns down and your hands behind your back!” she ordered.

“You really think you will get away with this honey?” Joanna said, trying to stay calm as she put her gun down and her hands behind her back.

“Shut it sweetheart and just do as you’re told” Nicole said as she took the weapons of the two agents “Face the wall!” she ordered. Vanessa and Joanna did exactly as they were told.

“Now strip! Both of you” Nicole ordered.

“Think again what you’re doing, you know what is the maximum penalty for attacking a secret agent?” Vanessa said.

“You have a big mouth blonde. I’m going to take care of that, but for now just strip before I lose my patience.”

Vanessa and Joanna exchange a quick look of shame and anger and slowly began to take off their clothes. First, they took off their button up shirts, then their boots and jeans. After they removed their socks, they were left only in their underwear.

“Panties and bra also” Nicole demanded.

“What? Come on...” Joanna complained, red from embarrassment.

“I said panties and bra also!” Nicole repeated her demand.

“I give you one last chance to think before...” Vanessa tried to rationalize, but she was quickly interrupted.

“Before what blonde? You are not in a position to make threats so I think I was clear enough. Take off your panties and bra!” Nicole repeated angrily. Without many options the two agents slowly obeyed.

“Come on ladies! We don’t have all day” Nicole yelled.

“Alright, alright just relax!” Joanna said, trying to calm Samantha down, clearly annoyed by what was happening.

The two agents took off their bras and then their panties exposing their breasts and their even more private parts between their legs. Both of them were glaring at Nicole like wild animals, but at the same time they were blushing from shame.

“Good girls” Nicole said satisfied “Now put these on!” she grabbed two black latex costumes from her big bag and tossed them to the two naked agents. Joanna and Vanessa looked at each other confused, while they slowly began unwrapping the two costumes, revealing two full body latex catsuits. The two agents put on their new uniforms. Soon, they were wearing the full body latex catsuit that covered everything except their heads. Although both of them were relieved that they weren’t naked anymore, they were beginning to feel a little bit hot.

“Excellent! Now sit down, back to back and put your hands behind your back” Nicole ordered once more.

Vanessa and Joanna looked at each other again, clearly having a bad feeling, and then did as they were told. She approached the two agents with some pairs of handcuffs and many coils of rope. First, she handcuffed Joanna’s and Vanessas hands and then with a third pair of handcuffs, she connected the two other pairs, handcuffing the two agents hands together.

“I like the fact that you brought so much rope for just two secret agents. You mustn’t feel really sure about your plan, right honey?” said Joanna sarcastically looking at the many coils of rope and trying to annoy their captor. Of course the truth was that the two agents had already started to feel nervous, even though they were trying to hide it.

“Keep talking sweetie. Soon, you will beg for mercy” Nicole grabbed the many coils of rope.

“Yeah, whatever you say…” Joanna mumbled, ignoring Nicole threat.

She began applying the ropes to the two handcuffed women. She began by tying a tight chest harness on Joanna. Next, she did the same to Vanessa making the blonde agent even angrier than she was already. When she finished she used more rope to tie the two agents ankles. Once their legs were also tied, Nicole admired her work for some minutes, while the two trussed up women began struggling.

Nicole then approached Joanna. “Alright, you prefer pussy or feet?” She asked.

“What?? Go to hell!” Joanna responded angrily.

“Ok, I think I will save my pussy for your friend” She grabbed a roll of duct tape and began taking off her boots. Then, she took off her socks that looked soaked from sweat.

“What exactly are you doing?” Vanessa asked, confused by what was happening.

“I’ll be with you in a second blonde” Nicole approached Joanna again “Now, would you be a good girl and open up your mouth for me?”

“What the…” Joanna muttered also a bit confused, but in a few seconds she realised what it was about to happen “Wow, wow, wow. Okay, okay, listen to me. I’m sure we can find another way. I will be really quiet, please!!” she started begging, while at the same time she was shaking her head trying to take more distance from the sweaty socks that Nicole had balled up.

“I know you will, now open up!” Nicole ordered bringing the socks closer to Joanna’s face. Joanna turned her head away as much as she could and closed her mouth, trying to keep her lips sealed shut. She looked disappointed at the brunette agent. Without any other way she grabbed Joanna’s nose, pinching her nostrils aggressively. Eventually, Joanna opened her mouth to take a quick breath, but these seconds were enough for her to shove her two dirty socks inside Joanna’s mouth. Joanna was shaking her head like a wild animal, but without any results. Nicole grabbed the roll of tape and began wrapping around Joanna’s lower face many times, sealing the socks in her mouth. Joanna lost count on the wraps. When Nicole finished it seemed like half of the roll had been used to gag her. Joanna’s cheeks bulged as the poor brunette felt the most disgusting taste she had ever experience. A mix of sweat, and foot odour in her mouth made her retch through her gagged mouth. Vanessa didn’t know what exactly was happening behind her, but she had realised that her fellow agent was experiencing a very humiliating nightmare.

“Mmmmpphh!!” Joanna cried through the socks, demanding to have her disgusting gag taken off, but Nicole only laughed at her grunting.

“I told you, you will beg for mercy! Enjoy my socks, sweetheart” Nicole chuckled and patted Joanna’s head, making her even more angrier and eliciting more furious groans from her sealed, sock packed mouth. She then approached Vanessa.

“Now it’s your turn blonde. Your friend seems to enjoy chewing on my socks, so I’m afraid I don’t have any socks for you. ” Nicole giggled.

“Fkkhhhg yhhhm!!” Joanna groaned at that statement, trying to curse at her captor.

“That’s a pity… “ Vanessa muttered trying to be sarcastic.

“Yeah, I think that if your friend could answer right now, she would agree” Nicole smiled and rubbed her crotch for some seconds. Vanessa knew that it was her turn to experience ultimate humiliation.

“Listen, what do you want? Money, fame? I’m sure we can help you if you let us go.” Vanessa said, trying to change what her captor had in her mind.

“Well, thanks for asking but I don’t really care about money or fame.” Nicole said and went under her own skirt and took off her panties. She turned them inside out and approached the already disgusted Vanessa. It was obvious that these panties were drenched in sweat and have been worn for some days at least.

“Ok just wait! We can make an agreement, whatever you want! We canmmmmpphh..” Vanessas sentence was never finished, as She crammed the sweaty panties in the agents mouth. Next, the rest of the roll followed and She wrapped again and again Vanessas lower face, sealing her mouth. When Nicole finished she tossed the finished roll on the floor. Vanessa could not believe that she had another woman panties in her mouth. She was feeling disgusted and embarrassed. She could taste the sweat and who knows what else. Nicole on the other hand smiled, at the sight of the two humiliated, bound and gagged agents that were struggling and groaning though their gags.

Nicole grabbed Vanessas tape wrapped chin, squeezing her bulged cheeks “Now, about that agreement that you mentioned. What do you have to propose?” Nicole taunted.

“Fhhhkkg yhhh! Mmmmphh!!” Vanessa snarled through her gag.

“What was that? You’ll have to speak up if you want an agreement” Nicole snickered with Vanessa growling even more furious this time “Ok, ok shut up. I don’t even understand what you’re saying so it doesn’t matter”

It was clear, that Vanessa and Joanna were still trying to adjust to the disgusting taste of their gags.

“Oh, just in case you’re wondering, I was wearing the same panties and socks for about a week” Nicole chuckled.

“Mmmpphh!!” Vanessa and Joanna growled in disgust.

“Oh come on, is it that bad? You know, it’s not my fault. You know how hot it’s in the summer” Nicole taunted her two captives. “Speaking of hot, I have few more presents for you two.”

Vanessa and Joanna could only watch and groan as Nicole grabbed her bag again. Nicole took out from her bag, two leather hoods, two leather posture collars and a small chain. Next she approached again her two captives. First, she grabbed Vanessa by her hair and put the first hood on her head. After that, she grabbed one of the two collars and locked it around Vanessas neck with a padlock. After She finished with Vanessa, she approached Joanna and did the same thing, ignoring the brunettes pathetic grunts. Once the two agents were collared, She used the small chain, through the padlocks, chaining their two collars together and ensuring that they will remain bound back to back for the next hours. The two women were now able to look only straight forward and were unable to turn their heads.

In addition, they were now hooded, covered in latex, bound and gagged. The only visible part of them were their noses and their eyes. From the small part of their foreheads that was visible from the hoods, it was clear that the two women had already began sweating like pigs.

“You mind if I take some pictures of you two? No offense, but you look very funny like that” Nicole mocked.

“Mmmmphhh!” Vanessa and Joanna groaned again through their gags, indicating that they did mind, but of course it didn’t matter to Nicole. She took out her phone from her bag and began taking pictures of the two embarrassed agents. Joanna and Vanessa could only glare, furious than ever.

“Come on ladies. Don’t give me that look. You should be grateful that I didn’t leave you naked.” Nicole said as she continued taking pictures. The truth was that Vanessa and Joanna would prefer staying naked, compare to being gagged with used panties and socks, but feeling grateful for anything right now, just sounded like a bad joke. Once Nicole took enough pictures and she was satisfied, she grabbed some crackers from the nightstand and began eating.

“I have to admit, I thought that secret agents are tough and ruthless. But watching you two right now, you don't look very tough at all” Nicole taunted her two captives.

“Fhhkkkg yhhh!” Vanessa groaned through her panty gag.

“Come on, don’t be so angry. I’m just doing my job” Nicole said and approached Vanessa “Do you want some crackers? Maybe this will make you feel better”

“Mmmpgghh, yhh bhhthh!!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you have my panties in your mouth” Nicole taunted “I have to ask. Would you two, exchange your gags if you had the chance? I mean, which is worse? My socks or my panties?”

“Mmmpphhh!!” the two captives growled through their gags and tried to look away, irritated by their captors mocking game. It was obvious that she enjoyed it a lot, constantly teasing her poor captives while they were unable to respond or do anything.

“I’ll take that as a No. Besides, you seem very happy behind these leather hoods” Nicole giggled and continued “Now, I’m going to take a shower before I leave you two, so don’t go anywhere.”

Nicole began to undress. After that, she took some towels and headed to the bathroom but while she was halfway to the bathroom she turned and looked at her two captives.

“Oh! I almost forgot about your toys!” said Nicole.

“Mmmpph??” Joanna grunted, confused. Vanessa didn’t want to know what her captor had in mind.

Nicole grabbed her bag again. For a moment, cold sweat drenched both Vanessa and Joanna. When she took out from her bag the toys that she mentioned, the two captives eyes widened in panic. Nicole was holding two large, pink vibrators in each hand and a small spray.

“Mmmmpphh mmpphhggg!!” Vanessa and Joanna begged through their gags.

“Relax little piggies. I’m sure, you two will have a great time for the next half an hour.” Nicole said and began taping each vibrator between the two agents legs. Both trussed up women were whimpering through their gags, but this made Nicole to enjoy their predicament even more.

“Now, let’s play a game to make things even more interesting. Rules are very simple, so listen up!”

Vanessa and Joanna immediately stopped groaning and glared at their captor.

“When I’ll finish my shower I’m going check your pussies. Whoever of you two manages to keep her pussy dry, wins the game. The loser gets crotch roped, but the crotch rope will be covered with this!” Nicole said showing the small spray to the two captives.

“Mmmmphh??” Vanessa grumbled through her panty gag, trying to ask what the hell was this spray.

“Well, this my dear blonde is an itch powder spray. So, to put it simpler, the loser will spend a living hell. Now, let the game begin!”

Vanessa and Joanna began shaking their heads, but this didn’t stop Nicole from press the ON button of the two vibrators.

“Mmmmnnnnnmmmmmmmm” both captives grunted as soon as the vibrators were on.

“Have fun ladies and good luck!” Nicole giggled and went to the bathroom for her shower. Vanessa and Joanna were shaking like wild animals. Both of them were trying to ignore the vibrations and think of something else, even an escape plan if it was possible. The collars and the handcuffs didn’t allow much movement and the hoods that covered their heads along with the latex catsuits made them sweatier than ever. Of course the gags made things even worse. By now the panties and the socks had become a soaked ball of dirty, disgusting juices inside their mouths. The two captives were trying to take deep breaths through their noses, but it didn’t really make any difference to their predicament. The time was passing slowly and both of them knew that they were really close to climax. Pretty soon, the first climax came.

“Mmmmmmnnnmmmm!!!” Joanna grunted through her gag as she finally reached her orgasm. At the same time she was releasing muffled insults and curses, knowing that she had lost the game. Vanessa didn’t want to admit it, but she felt relieved as soon as she realised that her fellow captive had reach an orgasm. But minutes seemed like hours and the poor Vanessa tried her best not to surrender on the continuous vibrations. After some minutes she lost too.

“Mmmmnnnnmmmmmm!!!” Vanessa grunted in relief through her gag, while simultaneously he desperately tried to scream. Both girls had lost the game. Even worse for them, the vibrators kept doing their job even for the next minutes after their first orgasms. As the time was passing the two trussed up women became sweatier than ever.

After around 30 minutes Nicole stepped out from the shower and returned to her humiliated captives.

“Wow ladies, you smell worse than pigs!” Samantha chuckled as she could smell the sweat from the captured duo, her insult only causing more furious grunts and killer looks from the captured duo “So, let’s see who’s the winner!” Nicole switched off the two vibrators, relieving the two agents. Next, she untapped the two vibrators. Vanessa and Joanna sighed, panting heavily through their noses after these unbearable 30 minutes. Nicole first checked Vanessas pussy.

“Mmmmphhh!!” Vanessa complained angrily through her gag as Nicole touched her between her legs.

“I think we have a loser here! I’m sorry blonde, but you are the loser for sure” Samantha patted Vanessas hooded head and then approached Joanna. She put her hand again, this time between Joanna’s legs, again causing furious groans from the brunette agent.

“Wow, how many orgasms did you have? I thought that you were the winner, but it looks like you’re an even worse loser” Nicole grabbed some coils of rope and the spray “Now, under normal circumstances I would let you decide of who is going to get crotch roped, but since you’re mouths are a little bit busy right now, I think that it’s best that both of you get a crotch rope, don’t you agree?”

Both Vanessa and Joanna just shook their heads and grunted through their gags, unable of doing anything to change Nicole’s decision. Nicole approached Vanessa once again and tied a rope around her waist. The blonde agent tried to struggle, but it was pointless as Nicole pulled the rope between Vanessas legs creating a very tight crotch rope. Next, she sprayed the area between Vanessas legs making her struggle and groan even more. After that she went to Joanna and tied the second rope around her waist. In a few minutes Joanna was also crotch roped and sprayed between her legs. With a third coil of rope she connected the two crotch ropes. It was clear to the two agents, that every movement or pull from either Vanessa or Joanna would result in a very annoying and painful feeling for the other.

The two captives began feeling a very strange sensation between their legs. Pretty soon, the itch powder made its job and the two women began shaking and groaning like animals.

“Mmmmmphhh!!!” Vanessa growled through her gag as she tried once more to release herself. As expected, the moment that Vanessa tried to struggle, Joanna experienced an annoying sensation of pleasure and pain between her legs.

“Mmmf!! Mmmmhhpp!!” Joanna complained angrily through her sock gag to her fellow captive.

“Mmmphh?? Whhpppff mmhhhhpp!!” Vanessa tried to apologise to Joanna.

“Jhhh gthhnp mmmhhhvhh!!” Joanna demanded, trying to communicate through the socks.

“Aawww you two are so funny. I wish I could stay all night and play with you, but unfortunately I have to leave” Nicole said, humiliating her captives even more.

Joanna and Vanessa continued whimpering and grunting through their gags, releasing muffled curses and at the same time begging for some mercy. Of course, this only made things more amusing for Nicole. Nicole put on some new clothes from her second bag and in a few minutes she packed the rest of her stuff.

“Ok, time for me to leave. I had a wonderful time with the two of you. I’m taking your clothes and your guns. But hey, you can keep my panties and my socks so I guess that’s a fair deal between us, right?” Nicole chuckled as Vanessa and Joanna could only groan and glare.

“Oh, and of course I’m taking the keys of your handcuffs and your collars. And also the air conditioner control. I wanna make sure that tomorrow you two will be a soaked sweat mess” Nicole said as she switched off the air condtion.

“Whhmmmtt?? Nmmpphhh!!” Joanna and Vanessa groaned in shock.

“Come on, I’m just earning some time for myself. I’ll make sure somebody finds you in the next 24 hours.”

“Whhmmhhtt???” Vanessa screamed though her gag. Did Nicole really intended to leave them like this for 24 hours? This thought only made the two agents even more panicked.

“Don’t worry blonde, I’m not going to forget to send someone find you. And even if I do, you can give me a call to remind me, right?” Nicole giggled and then gently grabbed Vanessas leather covered chin, giving her a kiss. Vanessa growled in disgust, as Nicole stood up and grabbed her bags “Anyway, I’m sure you two are comfortable for the night. Have fun you losers!”

Nicole left, the room closing the door and leaving the two trussed up agents on their unbearable predicament. Vanessa and Joanna continued grunting and yelling though their gags trying to communicate and scream for help. At the same time, they were trying to stand still and ignore the itch and the tight crotch ropes between their legs. Any small movement or even a small attempt to struggle from either the two agents, elicited a painful sensation between the one's crotch and a muffled whimper to stop from the other. Moving their heads was also impossible due to the posture collars, that were forcing them to look straight forward. Of course, standing up and hopping was out of the question both because of the collars and the crotch ropes.

In addition to all these, they were both drenched in sweat under the leather hoods and the latex catsuit. The taste of Nicole’s panties and socks was just a reminder of how embarrassed and humiliating was their miserable predicament. If they could communicate, maybe there was some hope for an escape plan, but their disgusting gags, along with the leather hoods had literally silence the two agents.

This fatigue predicament would continue for hours and hours. The two trussed up agents were exhausted. Their mission had ended in the most humiliating and defeated way. Being handcuffed back to back, covered in latex and chewing on another woman’s panties and socks, wasn't what they had in mind when Samantha freed herself. And unfortunately for them, there wasn’t a single thing that they could do. Frustrated, defeated, humiliated and trussed up like turkeys, they couldn't do anything other than sweating like pigs and wait someone to find them. This was going to be a very long night for them.


The knocking on the door awakened the two bound, defeated agents. “Miss Delane, are you there?” a voice behind the door asked, continuing knocking.

“Mmmmpphhhh!” both Vanessa and Joanna began grunting pathetically and helplessly through their gags, trying to scream for help. After many hours of sweat, itch and struggle they had manage to sleep, handcuffed back to back all night long. They didn't even know what time it was, since they had completely lost track of time, so many hours in the same position. They were so desperate that they kept yelling, muffled begging for somebody to release them.

The door opened instantly and the receptionist of the motel came right in. His eyes widened in shock and surprise, stunned by what he saw. The whole room had an awful smell of sweat. The air inside was literally stale. It was worse than a locker room. The two hooded, stinky captives were still in the exact same position, looking like a huge ball of latex. The receptionist began coughing due to the unbearable Odor of the two smelly agents that were bound for so many hours.

“What the…?” he said as he approached the two captives that looked like two latex dolls.

“What the hell happened here? Who are you?” he asked.

“Mmmpphhh!!” Joanna moaned through her gag.

“What?” the receptionist tried to understand what Joanna was saying.

“Mmmmmphhhh!!!” the two embarrassed agents groaned, demanding to have their mouths released.

“Oh yes, right!” the receptionist approached the two women, confused from where he should start the untying process. Eventually, he began untying Joanna’s hood. In a few minutes Joanna felt her face almost free again. Her hair were messy and she looked like she had taken a shower. Next, the receptionist began unwrapping the tape around the brunettes mouth. After the tape was removed Joanna was finally able to spit out the two stinky socks that she had in her mouth for so many hours.

“Phew! That’s gross..” the receptionist muttered, disgusted as he saw what was inside in the poor girls mouth for so many hours. The balled up socks just felt on the floor, soaked from saliva. Joanna began coughing, taking deep breaths of the fresh air.

"Oh finally...this is the worst thing I have ever tasted in my life!" she spat, while simultaneously she was panting through her mouth, grateful that she was breathing fresh air again.

“Are you alright? What the hell happened??” the receptionist asked again.

“Thhhgg hhgg mm ghhmmg!!” Vanessa groaned through her gag, trying to draw the attention of the receptionist.

“Oh yes, sorry!” the receptionist began untying Vanessas hood. Just like Joanna, Vanessas hair were completely drenched and her soaked face was covered in sweat.

“We are secret agents. The bitch that was staying in this room, is a robber. We tried to catch her, but she tied us up and gagged us. We were screaming for some help for hours!” Joanna complained as the receptionist unwrapped the many wraps of tape around her partners face, allowing her to spit out the dirty panties that were covered in sweat and drool.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear anything” the receptionist explained himself looking confused and disgusted at the soaked panties that Vanessa had on her mouth “Are these…panties? That’s disgusting” he muttered almost shocked.

“Yeah you idiot, these are panties!” Vanessa answered once her mouth was free, getting angrier from the reminder of what was inside her mouth for so many hours “I swear I’m going to make this bitch regret everything!” she panted heavily through her mouth and nose. The receptionist tried to untie the handcuffs and the padlocks of the collars, but it was impossible.

“Where are the keys for the handcuffs and your collars??” the receptionist asked.

“She took the keys. Call for some help and bring us some water!” Joanna said.

The receptionist immediately took his phone out from his pocket and called for help.

“Ok, the locksmith is on his way. He says he will be here in two hours”

“Two hours???” the two captives groaned in shock.

“I’m sorry ladies, but this is a remote motel, so you’ll have to wait. I’ll go bring some water and I'll see what I can do for your ropes” the receptionist said leaving the room to go and grab some scissors and water.

As the two women were waiting Joanna felt a new wave of itch between her legs, that caused her to make a sudden move. Of course, this created yet again a tight pull between Vanessas legs.

"Ouch! What the fuck Joanna?" Vanessa complained.

"Oops, sorry! But I'm still a bit itchy!" Joanna explained.

"Yeah me too, but don't move! You were struggling all night and I couldn't sleep!"

"Well sorry, you could've said something!" Joanna exclaimed only making Vanessa more furious.

"I was gagged with this bitch's panties all night!" Vanessa answered.

"Yeah I mean groan or something" Joanna said.

"You two are really something else..." the receptionist chuckled as he returned to the room with bottles of water and some scissors.

"Cut the bullshit and untie us!" Joanna demanded.

"Ladies please. I'm here to release you, not upset you even more" said the receptionist, taking his time on finding where were the knots.

"Just get on with it!!" Vanessa yelled, irritated by the fact she was still handcuffed and bound, back to back with her partner.

"Alright relax! Jeez.. " the receptionist sighed. As he began cutting the ropes, he muttered "...no wonder why she gagged you like that.."

"Ha-ha very nice joke" Joanna laughed sarcastically, unable to hide her anger.

"Fucking idiot..." Vanessa mumbled.

This situation continued for the next hours. Vanessa and Joanna remained handcuffed and collared for another two hours, both of them swearing that they will take revenge for what had happened. When they were released they felt even more humiliated, since they were informed about what had happened. Apparently Nicole had posted all the pictures of the two trussed up agents online. In a few hours, their pictures had become viral. Many people were laughing and posting various taunting comments about the two agents. Vanessa and Joanna were finally free, but it was clear that there humiliation didn't just end there!

[mega23101982]

Can see how you take inspiration from the writer Blacksheepboy you shared mega

I agree can see his style influenced you

Thanks mate

[Ringo16885]

Another brilliant story mega

[mega23101982]

Another brilliant story mega

Thanks Ringo

[Ronnie1967]

One of your best like the latex suites angle mega

[mega23101982]

One of your best like the latex suites angle mega

Thanks Ronnie glad you liked it

[Bigsteve1990]

Really enjoyed this story mega I also love the latex suites angle

[mega23101982]

Really enjoyed this story mega I also love the latex suites angle

Thanks Steve a look t use them in future stories mate

[mega23101982]

Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE (F/F Scenes)
by ~blacksheepboy413

Cassandra Clack awoke in a dreamy haze, the early morning sunlight coming in through the translucent curtains that hung from her floor-to-ceiling bedroom windows.

She heard the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and the call of gulls, and she heard the sound of soft breathing next to her.

Cassie stretched her arms above her head, the sheets falling away from her upper body, exposing her bare breasts. She yawned into her fist and rolled over to her other side.

Polly lay still asleep, strands of black curls in her face. Cassie smiled, and was a little surprised to find she was happy to still be with the girl. They had been having on again/off again sex---she wouldn't quite call it a relationship, even though they did go out on the occasional "date"--for the last three months. This was a record breaker for Cassie, who usually went through a different girl every week.

Polly was black, and on top of that she was British, and if there was one thing that could always make Cassie melt it was a cute black girl with a British accent. Cassie reached out and gently pulled the strands of hair out of Polly's face, then rested the back of her hand on Polly's cheek. She liked the way her own super-pale skin contrasted with Polly's dark. She liked Polly's full lips, and little button nose, and large brown eyes. And she liked--maybe even loved--the taste of her pussy. Hell, she had to admit it--she really liked Polly.

And that was a problem.

Cassie was relatively new to her line of work--a little over a year--but she was already a stunning success. She had risen to near legend-status in the game , and with that came the big bucks---the big bucks that allowed her to pay for this current, gigantic condo in the Hamptons, as well as a penthouse in Manhattan, and a villa in Italy. And that was all great.

But the one thing you learned in this line of work---rule one, if you will--was to never, ever have a serious relationship. There was no way you could balance it with your work.

Cassie sighed, and her sighing stirred Polly. Polly lazily opened one eye, then another, and a sweet smile spread on her full lips.

"Morning, love," Polly whispered.

"Morning," Cassie said, smiling. She leaned over and gave Polly a peck on the lips.

"Oh, no," Polly groaned. "I'm sure my breath is ghastly."

Cassie laughed and pulled her tight against her own body, their naked bodies pressing firmly against each other.

"Sleep okay?" Cassie said, nuzzling against Polly's neck.

"Yeah," Polly said. "Although...I heard some noises during the night..."

Cassie was very still. "Noises...?"

"Yeah, like...banging noises. The pipes or something; sounded like it was coming from the basement."

"Right," Cassie said, nodding. "I've been having some plumbing problems. You'd think for all the money I pay for this place the damn plumbing would work right."

"Mmm," Polly said, her eyes closed, not really listening. She was drifting back asleep.

"I'm going to go get a drink," Cassie said softly.

"Mmmhmm," Polly muttered, almost asleep again.

Cassie rose from the silk sheets and walked nude to the bathroom. She pulled on an over-sized Ramones t-shirt that stopped an inch or two below her ass, then made her way down the spiral staircase to the first floor of the condo. She looked out the glass patio door, out at the clean sand and sparkling ocean. An old woman was walking her dog on the beach, and far out in the water a small sailboat was drifting by.

Cassie went to a cabinet and removed a key, then made her way to the locked basement door. She unlocked the bolt with the key, stepped onto the first step, and closed the door behind her.

She walked slowly down the stone steps, the stones cold beneath her bare feet. She rounded a corner, and sighed.

"Damn it, I told you two to behave," Cassie said, her hands on her hips.

There was an old mattress on the floor, in a corner, and laying on the mattress was a woman in her early forties. She was a little on the chubby side, but she had a pretty face. Of course, that face was now obscured due to the fact that duct tape was smoothed over her eyes and wrapped entirely around her mouth and the back of her head.

She lay on her back, her hands bound behind her her with zip-ties. Her ankles were cuffed together, and a length of chain ran from the ankle cuffs to a water pipe close to the ground.

Laying on the floor, next to the mattress, was the woman's eighteen year old daughter. She had golden blonde hair like her mother, and like her mother, duct tape sealed her lips, zip-ties bound her hands behind her back, and cuffs with a chain anchored her to the water pipe. However, during the night, the daughter had rolled off the mattress onto the floor, and somehow one corner of the duct tape blindfold had come up a bit.

The two women were completely nude, and their naked skin was covered in dust and grime from the basement.

The minute Cassie spoke, the two women began "Mmmmph"ing, but Cassie knew the sound wouldn't travel. She had packed both of their mouths with thick sponges before taping them shut.

"Ladies, please," Cassie sighed, walking over to a work bench and retrieving a roll of duct tape. "I have company. Just sit tight, okay? It's only been 24 hours."

Cassie lifted the daughter back onto the mattress. The thin, nude 18 year old struggled and squirmed, but Cassie ignored this as she tore off two fresh strips of tape and smoothed them down over the girl's eyes.

"As soon as your dad pays the ransom for you and your mom," Cassie said to the writhing girl, "you gals are free. Okay?"

"Mmmph! GMMPHHH!" the mother moaned.

Cassie grabbed the woman by the neck and squeezed--tight, but not TOO tight.

"Listen, lady," Cassie half-growled. "I've been very nice to you two---I mean, besides kidnapping you, stripping you naked, and tying you up. But other than that, I've been very nice to you two. Trust me, you DON'T want to get on my bad side. I can make things much worse for you. I've got so many toys that I'm just DYING to shove up your ass and snatch, and so many devices I would LOVE to strap you into. You, and your daughter."

At this threat the mother went rigid, and stopped moaning.

The two naked women huddled close to each other, and Cassie smiled, content.

"Be good, you two," she said. "I'll be back in a few hours with some water."

Cassie went back upstairs, locking the basement door behind her. She went back up to the second floor and stopped in the doorway of her bedroom.

Polly was half-dressed in her black skirt, white blouse and black blazer, and she was stepping into a pair of black heels.

"Hey, doll," Cassie said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. "Where you going?"

"I'm SUCH a blithering dolt," Polly said, shaking her head. "I have a meeting today--it completely slipped my mind."

"Boo," Cassie said, giving a thumbs-down. "I say you blow that off, and take off all those pesky clothes, and get back into bed."

Polly grinned. "Believe me, love--there's nothing I'd like more. But I really have to get to this meeting."

"I don't think so," Cassie said playfully. "I forbid it."

"Oh do you now?" Polly laughed, checking her hair in a mirror. "And how are you going to stop me?"

"I'll tie you to the bed," Cassie grinned.

Polly went to her and kissed her. "Ooo," Polly said, smiling. "I didn't know you were so kinky."

"Oh, you have no idea," Cassie said, raising an eyebrow.

"I gotta run. I'll call you tonight," Polly said.

Cassie gave her a playful slap on her bum, and Polly gave her a wink and was down the stairs and out the door, the sound of her BMW roaring to life and speeding down the gravel drive.

"Well, shit," Cassie said to herself. "I thought I was going to get some pussy this morning..."

Her mind wandered--briefly--to the two naked, bound women in the basement. But she nixed that idea right quick. Too...unprofessional.

She was debating weather or not she should go back to bed or take a shower when the phone rang. Cassie answered it, tossing a strand of her bright red hair from her face.

"Bonjour," she said, looking out the bedroom window at the sea.

"Cassie, how are you?" asked a smooth, familiar voice.

"Henry," Cassie smiled. "You silver fox of a man. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Are you...busy this month? With work, I mean."

Cassie considered the mother and daughter in the basement. The ransom would likely be paid by tonight---to her employers. As soon as she got the call from them, she would bundle the ladies up into her van and drop them off in the Meadowlands---still nude, of course. But otherwise unharmed.

"Nope," Cassie said, plopping down onto the bed. "I'm just about finished with a job, and then I am free as a bird."

"I may have something for you, angel," Henry said.

"I'm always interested in work from you, Henry," Cassie said, laying back on the bed and raising her legs in the air, trying to touch the ceiling with her toes.

"It's a bit different than what you're used to."

"I like different."

"And I got you a very, very good price."

"You always were a sweet-heart."

"Do you know the name Robert Snow?"

"Of course," Cassie said, sitting up. "Hot shot senator; would be Presidential candidate. That's some pretty big fish, Henry. He'll have a lot of security, and--"

"No, he's not the mark," Henry cut her off. "He's the client."

"Ooo," Cassie said. "This IS different."

"Can you meet with me, and him?"

"Absolutely," Cassie said. "Just say when."

"Now," Henry said. "There's a car waiting for you."

Puzzled, Cassie got up and went to her window. Down in her driveway sat a black stretch limo.

"You really know how to charm a lady, Henry," Cassie said.

"The driver knows where to go," Henry said. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Can't wait," Cassie said. She hung up the phone and went to her closet to dress.


Samantha Snow was trying very hard to wake up. Because this had to be a nightmare.

The last few weeks--how many had it been? she had lost count---had been a hellish blur; she was frequently groggy and nauseous from seemingly constant drugging.

Her entire body ached. She had been poked and prodded and whipped and spanked. She had cried until she was fairly certain she had no tears left---and then she had cried more.

She kept hoping and praying for this to all end--but it never ended. It just kept going.

Samantha did not know where they had taken her--for all she knew, she might not even be in the same country anymore--let alone State.

The first few days in captivity, Samantha had fought back as much as she could. On the rare occasions when she wasn't completely immobilized by restraints, she would kick or punch at her captors. But they didn't take kindly to this---for every transgression, she was punished. If she kicked at a captor, she was forced to hang upside down from a ceiling beam by the one leg she had kicked with, suspended with rough rope. If she punched or slapped, the hand she used was held in a bucket of freezing cold water for hours. Still, she fought. But then came the whippings, and the ass-paddelings. At one point she was even locked inside a human-shaped cage, forcing her to stand in place rigidly, the steel bars squeezing against her flesh.

It got to a point where she had almost no fight left in her.

Now she was in what her captors referred to as her "cell", although really it was nothing more than a small closet with a dead-bolt on the door. She had no idea where she was being held, but i resembled some sort of big empty warehouse, with stone floors and metal walls with wooden beams against them.

She lay on the closet floor, nude, her wrists handcuffed behind her back, a rough hemp crotch-rope tied around her waist and between her legs, biting into her sex, stinging every time she shifted her weight a little.

Her knees and ankles were bound together with plastic zip-ties. Her mouth was packed with a huge wad of cloth, forcing her jaw to hang open--but this was sealed into her mouth by thick leather straps that wrapped around her mouth and the back of her head, and went down around her neck, forcing her to keep her head straight forward. If she moved her head a little, the leather strap around her neck and mouth tightened and she began to choke.

To put it plainly, this was hell.

Samantha wasn't sure what terrible sin she had committed to end up in a place like this, and she prayed for a miracle. For some sort of deliverance. There were even points, when she was at her most desperate, where Samantha wished her captors would just kill her already and get it over with.

The "cell" door was unlocked and forced open. One of the captors stood, looking down at Samantha. There were two captors Samantha always saw--a man and a woman. The man was gaunt, and frequently shirtless. His torso was covered in hideous tattoos.

The other was a woman. She was probably in her early 40's, and very hard looking. She had greasy black hair and dark, piercing eyes. She also had a large scar running down from her left eye, all the way down her cheek, stopping at the base of her neck.

It was the woman who stood in the doorway now.

"Time for your lesson, little bitch," the woman said, sneering.

She hauled Samantha to her feet and took out a switchblade. She used the blade to cut the zip ties on Samantha's ankles and knees, but then instantly attached a pair of iron shackles to Samantha's ankles. The length of chain that ran between the ankle cuffs was only long enough so that Samantha could hobble along--barely walking, and certainly not ever running.

The woman took Samantha out into the main room. Samantha saw the male captor there, leaning against a wall, his shirt off. He wore tight leather pants and black pointy-toed boots. He was eating an apple, using a knife to cut chunks of the apple off, which he then popped into his mouth.

"Today's lesson is a very important one," the woman said. She stopped in front of a tall, narrow metal stool. "So pay close attention, princess."

The man snickered.

The woman removed the leather straps from Samantha's neck and mouth, and pulled the soaking wet wad of cloth. Drool ran down Samantha's chin and splattered onto her bare chest. Samantha remained silent. This was another lesson she had learned---always remain silent, even when un-gagged. To drive this point home, her captors had clipped metal clamps onto her tongue on the few occasions where she did talk back to them. On the other end of the clamp dangled a small weight, which dangled above the ground and stretched Samantha's tongue out to a painful angle.

"Open your cum hole, mutt," the woman ordered. Samantha obeyed, opening her mouth. The woman inserted a large ring-gag between Samantha's teeth, forcing her mouth open in an O-shape. The gag was strapped around the back of Samantha's head.

The woman forced Samantha down onto the stool, on her stomach. The stool was big enough to support her stomach and chest, but her head and legs and ass dangled off either end.

Samantha shuddered, dreading at what todays lesson would be. Why was this happening to her? What did these lunatics want?? This couldn't be a kidnapping for ransom--it was too hellish for that. And her captors never made any mention of a ransom. Indeed, they never made any mention of letting her go at all.

Samantha kept her face forward. She didn't dare turn her head to look at either captor. But from the corner of her eye she watched as the man unzipped his leather pants, letting them hang around his waist, exposing his erection.

The woman unzipped her tattered jeans and pulled down her panties, and retrieved a large, black rubber strap-on dildo. She buckled it around her waist. and then applied an ample helping of lube to the shaft.

Samantha whimpered, closing her eyes.

"Open your eyes, little miss," barked the woman. "Or I will force them open."

Samantha obeyed; she opened her eyes and was staring right into the lubed-up dildo. The woman forced it through the O in the ring gag, right into Samantha's mouth. She tasted the sweet-tasting lubricant and gagged on it. But before she could react more, the man penetrated her from behind--thrusting into her ass.

Samantha cried out, but her cries were garbled by the woman sliding the didlo in and out of Samantha's mouth.

Samantha's whole body shook and quivered as her captors abused her from both ends. And she waited for it to end.

* * *

"Nice place," Cassie said.

She was sitting in a leather armchair in Snow's study, taking in how expensive everything looked in here. There were tall shelves, stacked floor to ceiling with thick books, and there were priceless works of art tastefully hung from the walls.

Snow paced back and forth behind his desk, his arms stuffed into his pockets. Henry sat in a chair in the corner of the room, silently watching.

"So, you kidnap people for a living?" Snow asked, hostility in his voice.

"Yes indeed," Cassie said, crossing her legs. She wore a green sleeveless dress that hugged her ample curves, a light blue sweater and black stiletto heels. She watched Snow with calm eyes.

"How the fuck do you stomach it?" Snow barked. "How do you live with yourself?"

Cassie smiled coyly. "The money helps."

"You make me sick," Snow said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "I didn't come here to be insulted, Mr. Snow."

"Why should I trust you?" Snow said. "You're just like the bastards who took my daughter!"

"No," Cassie said, shaking her head. "We're on different levels."

"How?"

"I don't kidnap people for slavery," Cassie said. "That's not my racket, man. It's strictly...business. Ransom, or...pleasure. You'd be amazed at how many wealthy people will actually PAY someone to kidnap them, for fun. Why, there's this one--"

"I don't care," Snow cut her off. "How are you going to get my daughter back?"

"Well, first off, Mr. Rude," Cassie said, leaning forward. "There are no guarantees. I can't guarantee I'm going to get your daughter back. I mean, hell, the slavers might get sick of her and chop her head off--"

"Oh God!" Snow moaned, collapsing into his chair.

"Cassie, please," Henry said softly.

Cassie gave him a wink, then turned back to Snow. "You just let me take care of it, okay? As long as your money is good--and from what everyone says, it is--I will do everything in my power to get your daughter back. But like I said--no promises."

"Fine," Snow said, his head in his hands.

"Do you have my down-payment?" Cassie said, leaning back in her chair.

Snow cut her a check. Cassie whistled.

"Look at all them zeroes," she said, playfully.

"You're despicable," Snow muttered.

"And a lot of other things, too," Cassie said. "We'll be in touch."

Henry went with Cassie in the limo on the trip back to Cassie's condo in the Hamptons.

They were silent for most of the trip, and then Cassie said: "What made you think of me for this job?"

"You're very...talented," Henry said, looking out his window.

"Thanks, but this isn't exactly my ball game."

"You took the money, didn't you?"

"Well, no shit," Cassie said. "But I dunno how good I'll do on this."

"You'll do good," Henry said, finally looking at her. "You always do."

"I just hope whoever snatched daddy's little girl hasn't damaged her too much. Some of these slavers are real...," she trailed off, searching for the word.

Henry looked back out his window and said quietly: "Monsters."

When they got to Cassie's condo, Henry took her hand gently.

"Cassie, remember one thing," he said.

"What's that, doll?"

"Don't trust anyone," Henry said. "Especially Snow. He is a man desperate for his daughter back--and there's no telling what he'll do."

Cassie nodded.

She stepped out of the limo and watched it drive away. The night had fallen fast, and a freezing wind blew in off the sea.

Cassie went inside and checked her answering machine. Polly had called, and wanted to meet up. Cassie was about to call her back when she remembered something:

"Oh FUCK, the bitches in the basement!"

Cassie checked her email account and saw that her employers for the job had been paid--and that they had transfered her her cut of the money. She verified this via phone with her bank in the Cayman Islands, and then went to the basement to retrieve the terrified captives.

She bundled the mother and daughter into her van in the garage, and drove them out to the Meadowlands.

She unbound their legs but left their hands bound behind their backs, and left them blindfolded and gagged.

"Be careful, ladies," Cassie said to the naked women as she helped them out of the fan. "It's chilly out tonight. Watch your nipples!"

She pushed the women, and they began to blindly walk forward with muffled murmurs.

"Stay to the left!" Cassie called out. "I don't want any cars hitting you two!"

Cassie hopped into her van and took out her cell phone. She dialed 9-1-1.

"Hi, I want to report something crazy!" she said as she drove away. "I saw two naked women walking along the highway out by Giant's Stadium!"

She hung up as the operator was asking her more questions, then dialed Polly's number.

"Hi doll," she said when Polly answered. "Wanna come over for a late night snack?"

Samantha was asleep in her closet cell, though it wasn't so much that she had fallen asleep as it was she had passed out from exhaustion. But the door was wrenched open, and the hard looking woman was pulling her out by her bound ankles, dragging her across the floor.

"Gmmphhh...mmmm," Samantha moaned as her bare ass rubbed against the hard stone floor.

She was taken into another room, a room she had never been in before. It was well lit, and had red walls. There was a fold-in chair in the center of the room, and a high-quality digital camera was on a tripod in front of the chair.

Samantha was freed from her bonds and sat on the chair. Her hands were bound in front of her with rope, and then her thighs, knees and ankles were bound together with more rope.

A huge red ball-gag was forced between her teeth, stretching her jaw open.

The thin man entered the room and stood behind the digital camera. The woman handed Samantha a large, thick vibrator and clicked it on. It buzzed in Samantha's bound hands. She looked up at her captors, confused.

"Use it on yourself, slut," the woman said, her hands on her hips.

Samantha was very confused. Even after all that had happened--and been done--to her, having her captors tell her to pleasure herself in front of them seemed so strange.

Her hesitation was too long, and the woman slapped her across the face.

Samantha cried out through her gag.

"DO IT," the woman barked.

Samantha began to rub the tip of the vibrator between her legs, slowly. She felt pleasure shoot through her, a pleasure that made her feel ill.

The man began taking photos of her.

"Slide it in, idiot," the woman said. "Put it in your cunt."

Samantha slid the vibrator inside herself, gasping through the ball gag. The vibrator rumbled within her, intense pleasure coursing through her.

She closed her eyes and shuddered, drool dripping from the gag.

"Move it around!" the woman said.

Samantha slid the pulsing vibrator in and out of herself, and the man continued to take photos of her. This went on for such a period of time that Samantha fell into some sort of trance, mechanically pleasuring herself with a glassy stare on her face, till she reached the point of climax and felt wetness running down her thighs.

"Perfect," the man sneered.

The woman yanked the vibrator away and pulled Samantha to her feet. She forced Samantha to hop all the way back to her closet cell, where her hands were re-bound behind her back, and she was pushed violently forward, collapsing onto her face. The cell door was slammed and locked, and Samantha was in darkness again, awaiting whatever sick horror would come next.

* * *

"Holy SHIT, YES," Cassie moaned.

She was laying on her back, on her bed, fist-fulls of the sheets in her hands.

Polly was on her knees, her head firmly between Cassie's spread legs, her tongue caressing Cassie's clit and sliding in and out of Cassie's soaking wet vagina.

"Oh my god, oh christ, holy hell," Cassie moaned, grabbing a handfull of Polly's curly hair and yanking at it.

Polly grunted, and then grinded her mouth hard against Cassie's pussy. Cassie shuddered and moaned, her lip quivering.

Polly took two fingers and inserted them up into Cassie's ass, and Cassie screamed with pleasure.

"I'm cumming!" she cried. "Oh god I'm cumming..."

And she was, and Polly lapped and sucked at her, taking it all in, and Cassie bit her own lower lip so hard that it drew a little blood.

Polly climbed up on top of Cassie, and they kissed, and Cassie tasted her own juices on Polly's lips.

"You're a-fucking-mazing," Cassie sighed contently.

"Mmm," Polly said, smiling. "I aim to please. I love the way you taste. Like strawberries."

"It's your turn, doll," Cassie said, smiling. "Lay back, I'm going to devour your pussy."

"Hold on a tic," Polly said, climbing out of bed. "I badly need to use the potty."

Cassie sighed in mock-frustration. "God, women."

Polly playfully swatted Cassie's bare leg, and then tip-toed into the bathroom and shut the door.

Cassie sat up in bed, pushing her tangled red hair back, and picked her laptop up off the bedside table. She began surfing around, going through the encrypted channels and back doors to the slave trade websites.

The internet had revitalized the sex slave industry. A whole new international market had opened up. It was like amazon.com for flesh; someone in Russia could order a girl (or boy) from America with one click, and have their new "package" shipped to them ASAP. You just had to know where to look.

Cassie clicked through a few sites, her gray eyes scanning for the familiar face of Samantha Snow. Jonathan Snow had provided her with a thick folder of photographs of Samantha, as well as some general info about the girl.

In the bathroom, Polly was running the water. Cassie was ready to click the X button on the website at a moments notice.

She went to a site called "American Cunts For Sale".

"Charming," Cassie whispered to herself at the name. There was a link that said BRAND NEW CUNTS. Cassie clicked it, scrolling down past photographs of terrified looking girls, bound and gagged in a red-painted room.

Poor girls, she thought. Poor sweet things..

Then she stopped.

There was a whole set of photographs near the bottom of the page, and they were unmistakably of Samantha Snow--sitting in a chair, bound and gagged, pleasuring herself with a vibrator.

"Bingo," Cassie said.

There was a link beneath the last photo of Samantha that said CLICK HERE TO BUY THIS CUNT.

Cassie was about to click it when she heard the bathroom door opening. She quickly X'ed out of the website and shut her laptop as Polly came back into the bedroom.

"Surfing the web, love?" Polly said, climbing into the bed.

"Just checking my email," Cassie said.

"Well your email is going to have to wait," Polly said. "Because you have a very important appointment between my legs."

Cassie grinned.

"Spread 'em," she said, and Polly obeyed.

* * *

It had been years since Samantha Snow had asked God for anything. She had been raised Catholic, but in truth--even as a very young girl--had never believed in any of it. It always seemed fake to her; something made up to make people feel better about their lives and impending deaths.

But now, bound and gagged, laying on the floor of her cell, sticky with her own cum and sweat, Samantha began to pray in the most sincere way in her entire life. She begged God to help her--to let her get away from this terrible place. She begged for forgiveness for whatever terrible past sin she had committed, and hoped that God could find it in his mercy to deliver her from this evil.

And then the door opened.

"Good news, little princess," the hard woman said, grinning. "You've been sold."

Samantha was taken into a room that looked like a loading dock in a warehouse.

There was a large metal box on a platform; it looked like a metal coffin. Samantha shuddered.

Two people she had never seen before--both of them wearing masks--took her over to a shower where she was scrubbed down with hot soapy water. After her shower she was toweled off and unbound, and taken to the metal box. The lid was pulled off and Samantha saw the box had metal straps on its bottom.

Samantha began to shiver. She knew she had to be quiet, but she couldn't take it anymore.

"Please," she wept. "Please, let me go..."

The hard woman stroked Samantha's short hair in a gentleness she had never shown before. "Shhh, it's okay."

"Don't put me in there..."

"Don't worry," the hard woman said softly. "We've done this before. Satisfaction guaranteed."

The thin man came in with a cardboard box. The box had a large roll of bubble-wrap in it.

The hard woman took some leather straps and strapped Samantha's arms at her side, then strapped her legs and ankles together. The thin man then began to wrap her up with the bubble wrap, mummifying her entirely--except for her head.

Samantha was sobbing in fear, unable to help herself. Her captors paid her no mind.

They lifted her up and laid her down on her back in the box, then proceeded to use the metal straps to strap her in place in the box.

The hard woman tipped the box's lid up on its side, and Samantha saw there was a thick metal hose running out of the lid, with a large mouthpiece with leather straps on the sides at the end of the hose. The mouthpiece had a little loop at the top in the shape of the tip of a human nose.

"There's not much air in the box, obviously," the woman was saying calmly. "There's an oxygen tank built into the box. There's enough air in it for 72 hours, which is more than enough. But I'd advise you not to breathe heavily--try not to hyperventilate. The harder you breathe, the more air you'll use up...and, well, that would be bad."

"I'm going to die!" Samantha shrieked.

"No, you're not," the woman said. "I told you--we've done this before. We've never had a slave die during transport."

"Of course," the thin man said, leaning over the box. "There's a first time for everything..."

"You'll be fine," the woman said. "It's like a scuba-diving tank. Ever been scuba-diving?"

"No...," Samantha sobbed.

"Oh well," the woman shrugged. She forced the mouth piece into Samantha's mouth, then strapped it around the back of her head. Her nose and mouth were now covered with the piece.

"Gmmnph--mmm," Samantha cried.

"Remember," the woman said. "Try not to breathe too hard..."

Then the lid was lowered on top, and locked in place. Samantha was in total darkness now, and she instantly began to panic and breathe heavily. She tried to calm herself down; tried to slow her breathe. But she felt no air coming in through the air hose. They had forgotten to turn it on! Oh god, they had forgotten to turn the oxygen on, and she was going to suffocate, and--

There was a sudden buzzing sound, and air came rushing into Samantha's lungs. She took in the air and gasped, struggling to compose herself.

Her journey was about to begin.

* * *

The sun was coming up, and seagulls were starting to squawk out on the beach.

Cassie opened one sleepy eye and saw Polly getting dressed in her exercise clothes.

"What are you doing?" Cassie muttered into her pillow.

"Going to go for a run on the beach," Polly said. "Care to join me, love?"

"Fuck no," Cassie grumbled. Polly laughed, lacing up her sneakers.

"I'll be back in an hour," she said.

"Have fun, lunatic," Cassie said.

Polly left, jogging down the stairs and out the door.

Cassie rose and looked out the bedroom window. She saw Polly jogging off down the beach, and she saw Polly's well-shaped behind accented in her tight running shorts.

"That ass will be the death of me," Cassie sighed.

She plopped back down on her bed and flipped open her laptop. She went to her recently visited sites and got back on "American Cunts for Sale." She clicked on Samantha Snow's page and clicked the link that read CLICK HERE TO BUY THIS CUNT.

When she did, a pop-up box appeared that said SORRY! THIS CUNT HAS ALREADY BEEN SOLD! KEEP SEARCHING!

"Oh...," Cassie said. "Shit..."

"You were careless," Henry said over the phone.

Cassie stood out on her balcony, watching the waves crash in, her arms crossed and the phone cradled against her ear. Polly was inside, taking a shower.

"I know," Cassie said. "I know."

"You found the girl and you didn't act immediately," Henry said.

"Yeah, I know Henry. Okay. I get it. I fucked up."

"It's very important you get this girl back, Cassie."

"Why? What makes her so special?"

"Her father is going to be president one day," Henry said softly. "And that's a good ally to have."

"Well that's why I'm calling you, Henry. I need you to track the sale. Hack into that fucking website and find out who bought her."

"It's going to take a little time," Henry sighed. "And time is not something we have a lot of."

"Just call me when it's done, okay?" Cassie said, and hung up. She was furious. She did not like to hear Henry talk to her like that--who the hell did he think he was? She didn't work for him. She was her own boss.

Still, she HAD screwed up. She should've acted the second she found Samantha Snow on that website. But oh, the lure of Polly had been so strong...

Cassie sighed. This was exactly why having a serious relationship in her line of work was impossible. So what was the alternative? Dump her?

She turned and saw Polly coming out of the bathroom, her hair dripping wet and body nude and glistening.

"Not yet...," Cassie said to herself.

* * *

Samantha awoke, her head swimming and her body shivering with cold.

The journey had been beyond terrifying--strapped helpless in that metal coffin, terrified she would run out of air. She had even ended up going to the bathroom in there--there was no choice. And the aftermath of that made the journey all the more unpleasant.

She had no idea where she had been taken, or how she had been transported there. There were loud rumbling sounds, and at one point her ears had popped. She had fallen asleep--or passed out was more likely--several times.

And then there had been a change--she could tell the coffin was being moved by hand. And it was noticeably colder.

After an eternity, the box had been opened and light had been shined into her eyes, blinding her. People were speaking, but in a guttural language she did not understand.

Out of the box she had been pulled, and then hosed down, her nude body scrubbed brutally with a rough brush.

Someone in a white lab coat--a doctor, or someone pretending to be a doctor--had injected her with a syringe. He told her what it was for, but again she had no idea what he was saying. And then the world had drifted away again.

Now she found she was in a small, windowless room. She lay on a bed, and while the bed wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, after spending weeks either in closets or in coffins, it felt wonderful.

She wore a white linen dress which clung to her naked skin. A length of chain was padlocked around her left ankle, with the other end locked to the metal footboard of the bed.

Several pillar candles burned on ledges, illuminating the otherwise dark room in ghostly flickers.

Samantha put a hand to her head and groaned. It felt like she had the worst hangover in her life, and her mouth was dry and bitter.

Where was she? And just what was going to happen to her next? The time since her abduction had been a feverish nightmare, and only now did she feel like she was regaining control of her senses. Perhaps it was because for the first time she was no clothed. True, the linen dress was thin, and she wore no underwear beneath it, but just the simple feeling of some sort of covering to her naked body made her feel more secure.

She was also not restrictively bound, or gagged. The chain shackling her to the bed was all there was, and she found if she got up off the bed there was enough slack that she could walk around the room. There was a small metal bucket in a corner, which she assumed--with disgust--was meant to be her "bathroom."

Samantha went to a heavy iron door and tried turning the handle. She knew it was foolish, and sure enough the handle held fast and the door did not budge--but at least she could say she tried.

She sat down on the bed, her head in her hands. She was starving; she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. Her stomach gurgled slightly.

A bolt was thrown, and a lock undone, and the door swung open. Samantha looked up, trying to remain still.

A woman entered the room. She was Asian, and dressed like a Geisha, in a silken red Kimono. Her raven-black hair was done up on her oval head, and her hauntingly beautiful face was painted as white as fresh snow--the lips thick and red.

"Where am I?" Samantha asked. Her mouth tasted like an ash tray, and she absently licked her dry lips. She fully expected the Geisha would remain silent, and perhaps even inflict some sort of torment, but to Samantha's surprise, the Geisha responded, her voice accented and as silky as her kimono.

"You are in the castle."

"What castle?" Samantha said.

"It does not matter," the Geisha said. She approached Samantha and gently stroked her cheek. "Pretty girl. Soft skin. Sad eyes."

Samantha began to cry. She couldn't help it; the tears came from no where, and she crumpled, sobbing.

The Geisha hugged her against the kimono and stroked Samantha's short hair.

"Shhh," the Geisha whispered. "You are safe now."

"I want to go home," Samantha sobbed.

"You are home," came a voice in a thick, heavy accent. Samantha looked up, startled.

A large bear of a man stood in the doorway. He was well over six feet tall, and had incredibly broad, wide shoulders. He wore a black suit which clung to his massive frame, his muscles rippling beneath the fabric. He chomped on a cigar, and the embers on the end illuminated his cold dark eyes.

"W-who are you?" Samantha said. The Geisha was still holding her, stroking her hair.

"I am your master," the man said, stepping into the room. He reached out a thick meaty hand and took Samantha's chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"Be gentle," the Geisha said to him.

He grinned. "I'm always gentle with my property."

Samantha shivered. There was no humanity in the man's eyes; they were cold and dead, and he looked down at her with such unwholesome lust that she felt her skin crawl.

"What are you going to do with me?" Samantha said.

"You must learn to hold your tongue, slave," the man said, squeezing her neck. Samantha gasped. "You speak only when I want you too. Understand?"

Samantha nodded, struggling to breathe. The man let her neck go.

"I see you have new toy, Vlad," came a voice, just as thick and accented as the man's--but female.

A woman entered. She looked to be in her early 40's, and her face was a mixture of cold beauty and rough edges. Her hair jet black with a white streak up the side. She was dressed as if she had just been horseback riding, with long black riding boots and tan clothes. She held a riding crop in her hand.

"She is for both of us, my love," the man--Vlad--said. The woman stepped forward and stood next to him. Vlad put his arm around her waist. The woman stared down at Samantha.

"Is too skinny," the woman said. "Fatten her up."

"Yes, madame," replied the Geisha.

"Not TOO fat," Vlad said, laughing heartily.

The woman stepped forward and grabbed a handful of Samantha's short cropped hair. Samantha let out a tiny yelp.

"Hair is too short," the woman said.

"Nonsense," said Vlad. "I like it. Is cute."

"Open your mouth, slave," the woman said.

Samantha slowly complied, her eyes looking back and forth nervously. The woman cleared her throat, and then spit into Samantha's open mouth. Samantha gasped, shocked, feeling the woman's hot saliva dripping down her tongue.

"Break her in," Vlad said to the Geisha. "I want her ready by end of week."

The Geisha nodded, all smiles. Vlad and the woman--who Samantha assumed was his wife or at least lover--left the room.

"Do not be afraid," the Geisha said. "I will take care of you."

The words--no matter how softly spoken--were of no comfort to Samantha. She was terrified.

* * *

"Something the matter, love?" Polly asked.

Cassie sat at the kitchen table, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and nothing else. She sipped orange juice and looked absently out at the sea.

Polly was sipping a fresh cup of coffee, dressed for work and leaning against the counter.

"Hmm?" Cassie said, looking over at her. Her eyes drifted to Polly's sculpted, dark-skinned legs. She felt a brief tingle in her bottom, and shrugged it off. She was waiting for Henry to call back, and she needed to stay focused. But every ounce of her wanted to bend Polly over the counter and slide her whole fist inside her.

"You look a bit wonky," Polly said.

"Sorry," Cassie said. "Just distracted."

"Well, I need to be getting to work."

"Don't you ever get a day off?" Cassie said.

"No rest for the wicked," Polly said, flashing a wink. She gathered up her leather bag and gave Cassie a kiss. "See you tonight?"

"Maybe," Cassie said.

"Maybe?" Polly said, suspicious. "Got a hot date?"

"Mmm, if I did, I'd invite you along," Cassie smiled. "Nothing better than a threesome."

"Except maybe a foursome," Polly said, winking again. She blew Cassie a kiss, said "Call me", and was out the door.

Almost the second the sound of Polly's car engine had faded, Cassie's phone rang. She answered quickly.

"Do you have a gun?" asked Henry's smooth, calm voice on the other end.

"Hello to you too," Cassie said. "No. I don't use guns."

"You need to come see me," Henry said. "I have a gun for you."

"I don't need a gun, Henry," Cassie said. "I'm not a killer."

"Trust me, you'll need one."

"Why?" Cassie said, leaning back in her chair.

"I traced the purchase of Samantha. It wasn't easy--lots of encryption to break through. But it appears the person who bought her is a man named Vlad Sokolov. Do you know the name?"

Cassie was silent for almost a full minute. She did know the name. And she knew the reputation that came with it.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I know it."

"I'll send a car for you," Henry said. "I've arranged for a private plane to take you to your destination."

"And where is that?" Cassie said.

"Moscow, my dear," Henry said. "You're going to Russia."


The snow billowed around Cassie's head as she stepped off the private plane. The cold, gray Russian sky loomed over head, and she could barely see three feet in front of her face. She was exhausted; the flight had seemed endless. She also hadn't dressed warm enough. Under her green overcoat she wore a sleeveless dress, wool stockings and thigh-high black boots. She shivered and cursed the cold. Her thoughts drifted to Polly.

The previous day she had broke the news to Polly: she was going to be out of town for a while. She had no idea how long.

"So that's it, then?" Polly had said, crossing her arms and sitting back on the bed. "Kicking me to the curb, love?"

"No way," Cassie had said, sounding more defensive than she had intended to. "It's just work."

"Right," Polly had said, and began getting dressed.

"No, don't go," Cassie said. "Wait--"

"I get the hint, Cass," Polly said, buttoning her blouse. "Fucking women--you're supposed to be different than guys, ya know? Not just into casual flings."

"Polly, this isn't like that," Cassie said. She bit her tongue, because she was seconds away from saying "I love you." She didn't even know if that was true--she wasn't sure WHAT she felt for Polly. But she knew it was strong, and she knew saying "I love you" might keep Polly happy.

But she remained silent.

And Polly had stormed out.

Waiting for the plane, Cassie had relayed the story to Henry.

"It's for the best," Henry had said softly. "Personal relationships don't belong in this business."

He was right, of course. Yet Cassie had spent the entire, lengthy flight feeling miserable, and getting plastered of of watered-down vodka tonics.

Now here she was, in Russia, hung-over, exhausted and heart sick. The last thing on her mind was saving Samantha Snow. She just wanted to crawl into a warm bed and shut out everything.

Out of the snow stepped a young woman. She was exotic and gorgeous, with straight black hair beneath a fur hat. She wore black-rimmed glasses that framed her crystal clear eyes.

"Ms. Clack?" the woman asked with a thick Russian accent.

"Yes," Cassie said. "Are you my contact?"

"Yes," the woman said, nodding. "Natasha Petroff."

She stuck out a hand sheeted in a black leather glove and Cassie shook it.

"Come," Natasha said. "I have a car waiting for you."

They rode through the increasingly heavy snow. Cassie pressed her aching head against the cool glass of the passenger window.

"How was flight?" Natasha asked, lighting a black cigarette.

"Long," Cassie said. "Very, very long."

"Henry tells me a lot about you."

"Oh?" Cassie said, not really listening.

"He says you are very talented. And pretty. I can see he was right about second part, at least. The first part is remained to be seen."

"Mmm," Cassie said, her eyes shut tight.

They arrived at the hotel, which was huge and white and lit up like a birthday cake. Natasha escorted Cassie up to the room Henry had booked for her. The room was big and well furnished. Cassie went right to the minibar and poured herself a tumbler of Russian vodka. She knocked back a drink and gasped.

"Christ, that's strong," she muttered.

"Yes," Natasha said, shutting the door. "We Russian's know our vodka."

Natasha peeled off her gloves and took off her fur overcoat, revealing a dynamite body. She wore skin-tight leather pants, stiletto heeled leather boots, and a long-sleeved leather blouse that clung to her like plastic wrap and displayed two voluptuous breasts.

"I suppose you want to get started," Natasha said. "I can fill you in on details."

Cassie wasn't paying attention to this. She was paying attention to the warm vodka coursing through her blood, and her misery, and Natasha's sexy body.

Natasha was talking, going on and on about "the mission", but Cassie cut her off.

"You're gorgeous," Cassie said.

Natasha smiled, not missing a bit. "So I have heard."

"Come here," Cassie said, throwing off her coat.

Natasha continued to smile. "Don't you want to get to work, Ms. Clack?"

Cassie went to her and put her hands on Natasha's hips. "I am working," she said.

She planted a firm, wet kiss on Natasha's luscious lips. Natasha kissed back, sliding her tongue into Cassie's mouth.

"I want you to fuck me," Cassie said.

"Now is not the time," Natasha said. "Ms. Snow is in need of you."

"She can wait," Cassie muttered. "Look, I just broke up with the girl I've had the longest, most meaningful relationship with. To come here, to fucking freezing cold Russia, to save some spoiled brat. I am drunk, and cold, and miserable, and I want you to smother me with your pussy."

Natasha pushed Cassie back and Cassie fell onto the bed.

"Take off panties," Natasha said.

Cassie reached up under her skirt and pulled off her panties and tossed them to the floor.

"Touch yourself," Natasha said. Cassie began to finger her clit, her eyes fixed on Natasha.

Natasha peeled off her leather pants, and a thong, and climbed onto the bed, straddling Cassie.

"This will NOT be serious," Natasha said in a serious tone. "This is strictly business."

"Whatever," Cassie said. "I want to taste you."

Natasha pressed her pussy into Cassie's face and Cassie began to tongue and lick her. Natasha moaned, throwing her head back and reaching back to rub Cassie's breasts.

Cassie licked and sucked, turned Natasha over, tongued her asshole. Slid her fingers up into her cunt and felt the increasing wetness.

Natasha took a candle from a near-by candlestick and slid it into Cassie's pussy, up and down vigorously. Cassie moaned in ecstasy. And she thought, even as she began to orgasm, "Fuck you, Polly. You made me do this."

[mega23101982]

Another Blacksheepboy413 story I saved, well most of it, just need too find the rest of this masterpiece, thanks

[MrBigMac1]

Another Blacksheepboy413 story I saved, well most of it, just need too find the rest of this masterpiece, thanks

Keep these stories coming mate, they are fantastic thanks for re sharing them mega

[mega23101982]

Another Blacksheepboy413 story I saved, well most of it, just need too find the rest of this masterpiece, thanks

Keep these stories coming mate, they are fantastic thanks for re sharing them mega

Not sure if I have anymore but I will have a look mate

[Ringo16885]

Thanks for sharing this story Mega

[mega23101982]

Thanks for sharing this story Mega

Thanks Ringo

[Ronnie1967]

Keep re sharing his stuff mega, thanks

[mega23101982]

Keep re sharing his stuff mega, thanks

Thanks I will see what else I have Ronnie mate

[Bigsteve1990]

Love these Blacksheepboy you keep sharing Mega

[mega23101982]

Love these Blacksheepboy you keep sharing Mega

Will do Steve

[MrBigMac1]

Wish this guy was still writing and sharing online mega

[mega23101982]

Wish this guy was still writing and sharing online mega

Me too bigmac

[mega23101982]

Family Matters (Mostly F/F some F/M)
by ~blacksheepboy413

Cassandra Clack: Professional Kidnapper

6:00 A.M.

Cassandra waited in her van outside the woman's home. From a glance to the watch on her wrist, she saw that it was almost six a.m.--the woman would be leaving for work soon.

The sun had yet to come up fully, and birds were singing in the trees that lined the block. Cassie had read somewhere once that the reason birds sing in the morning is because they are happy to have survived the night. That was probably poetic bullshit--but she liked the sound of it.

Cassie's watch beeped--it was six a.m., and like clockwork, the woman exited her house. The woman's name was Betty Merritt--age 30, divorced, no children, short cropped black hair, 5"1, likes Sci-Fi movies, harbouring a secret desire to become a pastry chef.

None of that mattered, though.

What mattered was Betty's current job: Postal Worker.

Betty headed towards her car, dressed in her blue postal worker uniform, lighting up a fresh cigarette, and Cassie fired up the engine on the van. She had been learning all there was to learn about Betty Merritt in the last week; tailing her from work, going through her trash, hacking into her computer and reading her e-mails. She belonged to an online dating site, where she said she just wanted to meet a guy who could "Make her laugh."

Sweet, delusional Betty.

Another key fact about Betty that Cassie had learned: the woman loved dogs. She subscribed to dog-themed newsletters, donated to animal shelters any chance she got, volunteered as a dog walker on the weekend. And that was good enough for Cassie.

Cassie followed Betty now to the Post Office, and waited, the van idling. It was cold--even by October standards, so Cassie cranked the heater up in the van, never taking her eyes off the Post Office. Soon, Betty was exiting the building and climbing into her mail truck. Cassie shifted the van into gear and followed Betty. Cassie had done her homework--she knew Betty's first stop would be the small coffee shop just around the corner, to get a large coffee and some sort of pastry.

Cassie sped off, taking a short-cut and arriving at the coffee shop first. She parked her van in an alley next to the shop, got out of the van, and waited.

And once again, like clockwork, Betty's mail truck pulled up.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Cassie called out as Betty climbed out of her truck.

"Yes?" Betty asked.

"Can you help me?" Cassie asked. "I was backing my van into this alley, and I...I hit a dog."

"Oh!" Betty cried out, sounding genuinely upset.

"I didn't see it!" Cassie said defensively. "It was in my blind-spot! It's still alive, but it's hurt real bad. And it's a pretty big dog--can you help me lift it into my van? Then I can take it to a vet..."

"Of course," Betty said. She followed Cassie into the alley, towards the van. They walked around to the back of the van.

"Where's the dog?" Betty asked.

"Well I have good news and bad news," Cassie said. "The good news is: there's no dog. The bad news is, I'm going to need your clothes and your truck."

"Huh?" Betty said, and Cassie zapped her with a cattle-prod she had hidden up the sleeve of her jacket. Betty convulsed wildly and fell to the ground, unconscious.

Cassie looked around to be sure no one was looking, and then heaved Betty into the back of the van.

She pulled Betty's boots off first, then her pants, then her jacket and shirt, leaving the woman in her underwear.

Cassie took a roll of duct-tape and began taping Betty's ankles and knees together. Then her wrists behind her back. There was a small metal loop bolted in the center of the floor of the van--Cassie had installed it herself. She took a length of rope now and tied it to the loop, and then tied the other end around Betty's neck--making sure it was tight enough to hold the woman immobile without choking her.

Next, Cassie took a large yellow foam ball she had acquired a toy store. The ball was the size of a grape fruit. She crammed it now into Betty's mouth, pushing it in as deep as it would go, the ball squishing under the pressure.

Betty was slowly regaining consciousness now, and Cassie worked faster. She wrapped loop after loop of duct tape around Betty's mouth, sealing the foam ball within.

Betty's eyes fluttered, then shot open.

"MMmmmmnnn!!" the woman moaned faintly. The ball did an excellent job of muffling her.

"Shhh," Cassie said. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I just need to borrow your stuff for a little bit."

Betty struggled on the floor of the van, and the rope around her neck pulled tighter. She choked a little.

"See?" Cassie said. "If you don't keep still, you'll strangle yourself. Okay? So just relax. Think of it this way--you have the day off today, and you're still going to get paid without having to use vacation time! Pretty sweet!"

"Mmmmnnppphhh," Betty whimpered.

Cassie took a leather hood and slipped it over Betty's head. Betty continued to whimper, but the hood plus the foam gag made her almost entirely inaudible.

Cassie draped a heavy blanket over Betty. "Don't want you to catch cold in your skivvies." Then she dressed in Betty's uniform. Betty was shorter than Cassie, and also a bit on the chubby side, so the uniform was both tight and baggy, but it was good enough. Cassie left her own black high-heels on though--there was no way she was going to put on the hideous work boots Betty had been wearing. She had to keep at least some semblance of fashion, after all.

She left the van and headed for the mail truck, checking her watch as she moved. A total of ten minutes had passed. Not bad, but she could do better.

TWO WEEKS LATER...

"Today," Cassie said, smiling, "is my sister's birthday."

"Well, seeing as you and your sister are identical twins," Dr. Wilson said, "that would mean it's your birthday as well."

Cassie, dressed in business casual and dreaming of getting a pedicure and a martini, sat on the leather couch in Dr. Janet Wilson's office.

Dr. Wilson, sitting in an arm chair opposite Cassie, eyed her, waiting for a reply.

"I don't celebrate my birthday," Cassie said.

"How long has it been since you've seen your sister?"

"I don't remember. A long time."

"Maybe you should call her."

"Well, seeing as she thinks I'm dead, I don't think I'll do that."

Dr. Wilson smiled politely and jotted something down in the pad of paper she kept on her lap.

"Ya know," Cassie said. "When we were kids, we were inseparable. Two peas in a pod, that whole deal. I wanted to be her, and she wanted to be me. There were times, when we were separated, when I would look into a mirror and pretend I was looking at her. And I would ask the mirror for advice. And ya know, years later, when I told Jane that story, she laughed and told me she used to do the same exact thing. In retrospect it sounds kind of creepy."

"I don't think so," Dr. Wilson said, smiling. "It sounds like you two cared very much for each other."

"Yeah, well...," Cassie trailed off.

"I must admit, Cassie," Dr. Wilson said, "I was surprised to hear from you again. It's been almost four months since our last session. I thought you'd given up on therapy--or at least, therapy with me."

"Nothing personal, doc," Cassie said. "I've just been busy. Work stuff."

"And how is work?"

"Like I said: busy."

"Is your sister the reason you felt the need to come see me today?"

"No, not really. It has more to do with work."

"Ah," Dr. Wilson said, leaning back in her arm chair. "Cassie, whenever your work comes up, I must always repeat that if you inform me of some sort of crime, I am obligated to report it to--"

"Who said anything about CRIME?" Cassie said, laughing softly.

"Well, in the past, you always made it a point to that you couldn't tell me exactly what you do for a living. So I always assumed--"

"Well you know what they say about assumptions, Doc. They make an ass out of you and umptions."

"I apologize--"

"Forget it," Cassie said, starting to rise. "I should go--"

"No, please stay. The session just started."

Cassie sank back into the couch. "I'll put it this way: I did a job recently, and...I don't feel good about it."

"Oh?"

"As usual, I can't give you the specifics. But, it's been bothering me."

"You took the job with no reservations?"

"Yes. The pay was too good."

"Well, not knowing what the job is, I can't offer too much guidance, but I can ask: why couldn't you just say no? Is money really that important to you?"

Cassie thought this over for a moment, then replied: "I don't know."

"Cassie, if your job causes you turmoil, why even do it? I'm not trying to flatter you, but you're a very bright woman. You went to Oxford University, you have degrees in psychology and--"

"Yes yes, I know my qualifications," Cassie said, waving her hand "It's just...this is what I'm good at. This is what I've always been good at. And the fact of the matter is--I love my job."

"Just not this particular assignment...?"

Cassie paused, then said: "Well...some parts of it were fun..."


8:00 AM, TWO WEEKS AGO

Cassie knew for a fact that Betty did not usually arrive at the Winslow estate until 8 a.m. So she drove around, watching the clock, until it was time to arrive.

The Winslow mansion was located in the exclusive Hartford Hills neighborhood. 56,500 square feet of interior space set in over 4.6 acres of land. From above, the house resembled a swooping eagle, or, as the Winslow's preferred to think of it, a giant W.

Cassie pulled up to the front gate and pressed the call button.

"Yes?" an accented voice came through an intercom. Cassie made a mental note and ran through a mental check-list: this would be Inga Bothild, personal bodyguard and chauffeur to the Wilson's. Swedish; a towering 6"5; platinum blond hair; black-belt in karate; likes to paint in her spare time.

"I have a package for Mrs. Winslow," Cassie said.

"Leave it at the gate."

"No can do," Cassie said, "It needs to be signed for."

"Mrs. Winslow is not at home."

"That's okay. You can sign for it. I just need a signature."

Inga sighed through the intercom, and then said: "I'll be right down."

Cassie whistled while she waited.

Soon she saw Inga approaching the gate, dressed in her impeccable black chauffeur's uniform, her cold blue eyes focused on the mail truck. She looked even taller up close, and Cassie thought "This will be interesting..."

Inga pressed a button out of sight, and the iron gate slowly slid open. Cassie pulled the mail truck through.

"Where is the package?" Igna asked.

"In the back of the truck," Cassie said, pointing her thumb over her shoulder. "It's pretty big. Then again, so are you." Cassie chuckled good-naturedly, but Inga did not crack a smile.

"Anyway," Cassie said, clearing her throat. "Sign here."

She handed Inga a clip-board and Inga signed.

"Okay," Cassie said, hopping out of the truck. "Let me help you get this sucker out."

They walked around to the back of the truck. Cassie looked around, checking to be sure no one was watching. The mansion was secluded, the only house on this street, and there were no other live-in servants. Cassie had done her homework, as always, and learned that a maid service did come in to clean the mansion, but it was on a weekly basis, and they were not due in until the end of this week.

Cassie's eyes scanned the street, to be sure no other cars were approaching.

"What is the hold up?" Inga asked, her voice flat and harsh.

"Sorry, wool-gathering," Cassie said. "Anyway--"

She delivered a hard blow to the back of Inga's head. Inga's black chauffeur's hat fell off, but Inga didn't so much as stagger. She looked at Cassie, slightly puzzled.

"Uh...," Cassie said. "Hmm..."

Inga frowned and threw a karate-chop towards Cassie's neck. Cassie dropped to the ground, ducking the blow, and Inga's hand smashed into the side of the mail truck. She let out a cry of pain.

Cassie kicked her foot into Inga's shin. Inga cried out again and staggered slightly. Cassie rushed her, diving straight for her legs, and took Inga down hard.

Cassie lay on top of Inga now, and she was amazed at how firm the woman's body felt. It was like laying on top of a slab of granite.

"Damn, girl, you must work out like a mother fucker," Cassie said dryly.

Inga snarled and kneed Cassie in the stomach, flipping her over her head in the process. Cassie landed on her back, and let out an "Ooof!" One of her high-heels fell off in the process.

"I will snap you in half!" Inga growled.

"Enough of this," Cassie coughed. She scrambled to her feet and pulled the cattle prod out of the mail truck. Inga rushed at her, and Cassie hit her right in the neck with the tip of the prod. There was that old familiar zapping sound, and Inga went down, unconscious. Cassie zapped her again just to be sure.

"Well, that wasn't so bad," she said, slightly out of breath. She had brought a whole bag of tricks with her, and she dug in it now. She took out another foam ball and stuffed it hard into Inga's mouth, then sealed it with tape. Then she pulled Inga into the mail truck--which was no small feat, considering the woman's height and muscle-tone.

In the van, she stripped off Inga's uniform, folding it neatly into a pile. Then she pulled out several plastic zip-ties, using them to bind Inga's hands and feet. She put a strip of tape across Inga's eyes as a last touch, and then exited the mail truck.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, Cassie looked up at the sprawling mansion and whistled.

"Hope you're not too hard to find in there, Mr. Winslow," she said, and headed for the front door.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Dr. Wilson scribbled away in her note-book and Cassie watched her.

"You have lovely skin," Cassie said.

Dr. Wilson looked up, slightly taken aback.

"Pardon?" she said.

"Your skin is very smooth," Cassie said. "What kind of moisturizer do you use?"

"Let's not stray off topic, Cassie--"

"How old are you? 35?"

"Cassie--"

"And single, right?" Cassie said, raising her eyebrows. "No wedding ring on your finger."

Dr. Wilson smiled coyly. "You told me we weren't going to do this anymore, Cassie. Not after...that incident."

"Ah, an incident," Cassie smiled. "Is that what you call it?"

Dr. Wilson bit her lower lip and shook her head. "We had an agreement. I would continue being your therapist as long as that...one night...never came up again."

"Ah," Cassie said, leaning back and stretching her arms above her head, her blouse raising slightly up and revealing her midriff. "But oh what a night!"

"If you're going to continue on like this, I'm going to have to end the session," Dr. Wilson said, taking her glasses off and folding them closed in her lap.

"Okay okay," Cassie said. "I was just...playing around..."

"Well please don't. Now, let's get back to this job...was it a lengthy? Did it take some time to complete?"

"Actually, no," Cassie said. Her eyes shot to her purse on the floor, and she badly wanted a cigarette. She had been trying to cut back lately--she found that she was waking up and coughing out black phlegm more than usual, and that wasn't very attractive. But she still kept a pack in her purse for emergencies, and she found now that she badly wanted one. "Can I smoke in here?"

"No," Dr. Wilson said.

"Fine. Anyway, no, it was not a long job. I mean, the preparation took a while, but that always does. The planning stages."

"What do you do for these planning stages?"

"I gather information, and I gather my...materials. I think of every possible scenario, and I plan for it."

"And how much planning went into this job?"

"Well, it was a rather big job. Multiple players. So it took a little longer than usual. But, I managed." Cassie eyed the purse again, dreaming of that cigarette. "I always manage."

9:00 AM, TWO WEEKS AGO

Thomas Winslow was the heir to Winslow Power, one of the largest energy providers on the planet. His father started the company, and Winslow ran it now with an iron fist. But whereas Winslow's father had been known for his ruthlessness, Thomas Winslow had made real efforts to be fair and give back to the world that his father took so much from.

None of this mattered to Cassie, of course, but she ran through her mental files as she moved silently through the large mansion.

Thomas Winslow was 39, which was considered by many stock-holders to be too young to run his father's empire. His wife, Mélanie, 38, was already wealthy when they married, which only increased the family fortune. French born, she was the daughter of a shipping tycoon, and had made a small fortune of her own as a runway model in Milan in her teenage years.

They married when Thomas was 21 and Mélanie was 20. At the time of their marriage, Mélanie was already pregnant, and there were rumors that the marriage was hasty in order to avoid scandal. And soon Mélanie gave birth. To twins. A boy , Michael, and a girl, Juliet. And that was the Winslow's. Attractive, wealthy, and, for the most part, apathetic.

At the foot of a grand staircase, Cassie took her high-heels off and tip-toed up the marble steps. The higher she climbed, the more she could hear a voice coming from one of the many, many rooms. She followed it and paused.

Thomas Winslow was inside a large study, his back to Cassie, his gaze out the window. He was on the phone, yelling at some underling no doubt, and Cassie waited patiently until the call had ended.

Then she stepped into the room. "Mr. Winslow, I presume!"

Winslow spun on his heels and looked at her. "Who the hell are you?"

"We haven't met," Cassie said. "My name is Cassandra Clack."

"How did you get in here? Where is Inga?"

"Inga is a little indisposed at the moment, Mr. Winslow," Cassie said, looking him over. "And I'm afraid to say you will be soon as well." He was a handsome man, and he clearly took good care of his body. Cassie thought of her own father at this mans age, picturing him in her head with his bald spot and his sagging belly and his shabby, booze-smelling clothes. In stark contrast, Thomas Winslow was fit and trim, his haircut perfect, his clothes finely pressed and tailored.

"Get out of here, this instant," Winslow said. "I'm calling the police."

Winslow reached his hand out for the phone and Cassie delivered a hard blow to his wrist--not hard enough to break a bone, but hard enough none-the-less. Winslow cried out in pain, grabbing his arm. Cassie dropped down to her knees and swept her leg out, tripping Winslow. He fell onto his back, yelling out again, this time more in shock than pain.

Cassie was on him in a flash, pinning him down with her body weight.

"What do you want!" Winslow cried.

"Where is your wife?" Cassie said.

"What?" Winslow asked, confused. Cassie grabbed Winslow's injured wrist and twisted it. He screamed.

"Where is your wife??" Cassie asked again.

"Shopping!" Winslow moaned.

"When do you expect her back?"

"Around 11 a.m.!"

"Okay," Cassie said. "We'll wait. Now, strip."

"What?!"

Cassie sighed. She climbed off of Winslow and dug into her bag, pulling out a thin, sharp knife. "Do as I say, or I will start cutting pieces of you off. I'm on a schedule here, I don't have time to fuck around."

Winslow rose to his shaky legs. "What do you want? Money?"

"Not from you," Cassie said, shaking her head. "Now, let's go."

Winslow began to undress. He took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, then slid his pants down, stepping out of both his shoes and his pants. He took his socks off, then Cassie said, "Good enough, stop."

Winslow stood now in his boxer shorts and a white under-shirt.

Cassie moved to him and spun him around, his back to her. She took a pair of hand-cuffs out of her bag and cuffed his hands behind his back.

"On the floor," she said.

"What?" Winslow said.

Cassie sighed and kicked his legs out from under him. Winslow hit the ground, hard. Cassie took a roll of black duct-tape and taped Winslow's ankles together, then his knees.

She took out another of those large foam balls--she had bought them in bulk--and said, "Open your mouth."

"Whatever you want, just take it!" Winslow barked.

"Don't worry," Cassie said, shoving the ball into Winslow's mouth. "I will."

She tore off four strips of the black duct-tape and smoothed it over Winslow's mouth.

"Mmmmphh," Winslow said, scowling at her.

Cassie looked down at him. "I bet you hate my guts right now. People like you--people with power--they don't much care for being helpless. Then again, who does?" She smoothed a piece of tape over his eyes, blinding him.

"Now," she said, sitting down in the leather chair behind Winslow's desk. "We wait for your wife to come home."

Cassie put her feet up on the desk and leaned back in the chair. Winslow writhed on the floor beneath her. She checked her watch. Right on schedule.

12: 30 P.M.

Cassie had spent the hours from 9 to 11 surfing the web on her iPhone. She updated her Twitter (which was registered under an alias) to say "Entertaining a captive audience!" Then, 11 a.m. came and went.

At some point, Winslow had ceased to struggle on the floor and "mmph" into his gag. Cassie poked him with her toe, to be sure he was still awake. He grunted behind the gag.

"It's well past 11 a.m. Mr. Winslow," she said. "Where's your wife?"

"Nnmmph," he muttered.

Cassie sighed. She left the office and went out into the hall. There was dead silence in the mansion. "How can you stand a place this huge?" she called out, and her voice echoed. "It's like living in a museum. And not a good museum, either."

There were sounds coming from below, and Cassie shrunk back against the wall.

"Thomas!" a female voice called out. "I'm home!"

"Mmmphh!" Cassie heard Winslow cry from the office, but she was quite sure Mrs. Winslow--if it was indeed Mrs. Winslow--did not hear them.

She heard the clicking of high-heels coming up the stairs, and she ducked back into the office.

"How did your morning meetings go?" the voice said, and there was a tinge of French accent to it. Cassie sighed. Oh, how she loved a woman with an accent--especially French... "Why is there a mail truck parked by the front gate? And have you seen Inga? I can't get ahold of her on her phone."

Mélanie Winslow entered the office, carrying several large shopping bags. She was gorgeous--that was the first thing Cassie noticed. She had an adorable up-turned button of a nose, and deep pools of eyes. She was in a green sleeveless dress, belted at the waist, and a pair of green heels.

Mélanie saw Cassie and stopped.

"Who-who are you?" Mélanie said. "Where is Thomas?"

"Your husband is right here, Mrs. Winslow," Cassie said. She reached down to the floor and heaved, holding Thomas up for her to see.

"Mmmnn!" Thomas moaned behind his gag.

Mélanie gasped to see her husband bound, gagged and blindfolded.

"What is this!" Mélanie cried. "Please, don't hurt him--"

"I won't," Cassie said, and let Thomas go. He fell to the floor and let out a muffled cry.

"What do you want?" Mélanie said, and Cassie noticed the more frightened the woman got, the more her accent came through. "Money?"

"Why does everyone keep offering me money today?" Cassie said. "Do I look that easy?"

"I have...jewels!" Mélanie said.

"I'm sure you do--"

"You can take them all!"

"Shh, that's not what I'm here for."

"Then what are you here for?" Mélanie said. Cassie looked the woman over. She looked at Mélanie's smooth, exposed legs. At the curvature of her hips. At the fullness of her lips.

"Come here," Cassie said.

Mélanie hesitated.

"Mrs. Winslow--Mélanie--if you don't come here, I will hurt your husband."

Mélanie set her shopping bags down and approached Cassie. Cassie reached a hand out and pulled a strand of hair out of Mélanie's face and breathed her in. The woman smelled of vanilla, and Cassie let out a deep sigh.

"You are a gorgeous woman," Cassie said.

"P-please...," Mélanie said, visibly uncomfortable.

Cassie leaned in and kissed her, tasting her full lips. Mélanie's eyes went wide, but she did not back away. The woman was so caught off guard by Cassie's kiss, that she did not notice Cassie clicking one side of a pair of hand-cuffs around her left wrist. Cassie pulled away, and Mélanie looked down, seeing the cuff.

"Wha--"

"Hands behind your back," Cassie said.

Mélanie slowly complied. Cassie clicked the other end of the cuff onto Mélanie's right wrist, locking her hands behind her back.

"Kick your shoes off," Cassie said. "Slowly."

Mélanie stepped out of her heels, and Cassie saw that the woman's pedicured toes were painted green, as well.

"You've got a green fetish, lady," Cassie said. "Lay down on the floor--on your stomach."

Mélanie got onto her knees and then lay face-down.

"Please don't hurt us...," she whimpered, and a single tear ran down her cheek.

"I won't," Cassie said. "Not anymore than I have to."

Cassie took the roll of tape and taped Mélanie's ankles and knees together. For a change of pace, she dug in her bag for a ball-gag. This was due to the fact that she thought it would be a crime to cover up Mélanie's gorgeous lips.

"A-ha!" Cassie cried, pulling out a ball-gag with a green ball. "Look? Your favorite color!"

Mélanie said nothing. Cassie inserted the gag inbetween Mélanie's teeth and buckled it around the back of her head.

Cassie checked her watch. 12:30 P.M.

"Okay," she said. "Now we wait until it's time for your children to be picked up from school."

At the sound of this, Melanie's eyes went wide, and both she and Thomas began to squirm against their bonds and moan into their gags.

"I know, I know," Cassie said. "But that's the deal."

"Mmmmphh!" Mélanie pleaded. "Mmm-MMM!!"

Cassie left the struggling Winslow's and walked down the hall. There were photos lining the walls, of the Winslow's and their many trips to many exotic locals. She paused when she reached a photo of the twins--Michael and Juliet. The two of them smiling happily, standing on the deck of some ship. Michael was a handsome young man, taking after his father in the looks department. And Juliet might as well have been a mini-clone of her beautiful mother.

Cassie stared long and hard at this photo, and she felt a slight flutter in her stomach.

She took out her phone and dialed the client.

"It's Cassandra," she said. "Can you talk?"

"Da," a female voice with a Russian accent replied.

"I have half of that package you ordered," Cassie said.

"Half?" asked the voice.

"The smaller parts haven't arrived yet."

"Let me know when they do--"

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

"Is this...absolutely necessary? The twins, I mean--"

"Yes."

"They're only children."

"They are both 18. In my country, this is considered middle-aged." The Russian woman laughed at her own joke, but Cassie remained silent.

"What is problem?" the Russian woman said after the silence had gone on for a uncomfortable amount of time. "We have deal, Cassandra."

"I'll take a pay-cut," Cassie said. "I'll knock off half of my price and deliver just the two adults--"

"NO," the Russian woman barked. "Unacceptable."

Cassie sighed.

"You had chance to say no to job when I offer it to you," the Russian woman said. "You had no reservations then. Why sudden change of heart?"

Cassie stared into the eyes of the twins in the photograph.

"Forget it," she said. "I'll complete the job and call you when it's done."

"Thank you, darling," the Russian woman said, and hung up.

Cassie walked away from the photo. At the end of the hall was a large mirror. Cassie stared into her own reflection for a while, and then whispered:

"Jane?"

"Yes," she replied to herself in the mirror.

"I'm sorry I haven't called..."

"I miss you..."

Cassie cleared her throat, feeling a lump within. "I...I miss you too...it's just, I had to...get out of your life."

"Why?"

"Because...I'm bad news, kiddo," Cassie said, and then let out a small laugh. "Remember that? When we would go out to concerts or parties, and there would always inevitably be some drunk guy there hitting on every girl that moved. And you would say to me, 'That guy is bad news, kiddo.' And we would just crack up."

"Yes."

Cassie bit her lower lip and crossed her arms over her chest. She looked down at her own feet for a long time, then back up into the mirror. "Jane, what the fuck am I going to do?"

"You're going to do what you need to do, Cassie. That's what you always did."

"I want to go home," Cassie said. "I want to go back. I want to...I want us to be young again. I want to be young, and careless, and incredibly stupid with you. I want to stay up all night, giggling in the darkness. And I want you to hold me. Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ, I want that more than anything, Jane. Remember, when dad would get...in one of his moods. And he would just be a tornado, downstairs tearing up the house. I used to get so fucking afraid. But not you. You were always the stronger one. And you would lock our bedroom door, and you would hold me...do you remember that?"

"Of course I do."

"I want that back--well, not the asshole dad part--but I want the rest of it. I want us to be young again."

"We can never be young again."

"It's not fair..."

"No, it's not."

"Can you hold me? Please..."

"No."

"Why not?" Cassie said, and she realized tears were streaming down her cheeks, and had been for quite some time.

"Because I'm not really here," the reflection said. "And because to me, you are dead."

Cassie sobbed and punched the mirror hard. The glass shattered under her fist, and pieces fell to the floor.

Her hand throbbed, and she blinked back tears.

"Get ahold of yourself, Cassie," she whispered. "Wild work to be done."

Cassie went outside to the mail truck. Inga was wide awake now, struggling in her bonds. Cassie drove the mail truck up to the front door and dragged Inga into the house, stashing her in a small closet. Then she retrieved Inga's chafferer's uniform and dressed in it. It was, of course, too big for her, but using some well-placed safety-pins, she was able to look half-presentable.

She went back up to the Winslow's. Thomas rolled blindly around on the floor, and Mélanie looked up at Cassie with wet, wide eyes.

"How do I look?" Cassie said, holding her arms out. "Not you Thomas--I know you can't see."

"Mmmphh...," Mélanie whimpered.

Cassie took them individually into a bedroom. It was somewhat small and not well decorated, so she guessed it was not the master bedroom. It was good enough. She took extra rope from her bag and tied both of the already bound Winslow's down to the bed, side-by-side.

"I hate to cover those beautiful eyes," Cassie said to Mélanie, "but it's for the best."

She took Thomas Winslow's discarded neck-tie and tied it around Mélanie's eyes, then checked her watch. 1:50 P.M. The prep school the twins attended let out at 2:45. She was making great time.

"Okay gang," Cassie said. "Sit tight while I go pick up the kids."

She left the Winslow's squirming and moaning on the bed.

TWO WEEKS LATER

"Cassie, are you okay?" Dr. Wilson said.

Cassie looked up at Dr. Wilson, and realized with horror that she had been crying.

"I'm fine," Cassie said, sniffling and wiping the tears away with her fingers.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not--"

"Cassie, I'm right in front of you," Dr. Wilson said. "Please, what's going on? Can you tell me about this job? Give me some sort of details? Tell me why it bothered you so much--"

"I can't," Cassie said, her voice sounding harsher than she had intended it.

"Did...someone get hurt?" Dr. Wilson said cautiously.

Cassie let out a sad laugh. "Someone always gets hurt."

"What's going on with you, Cassie?" Dr. Wilson said, her voice sympathetic. "I've never seen you like this..."

"I don't know," Cassie said, rising from the couch and looking out the window at the city below. "Maybe I'm having a nervous break-down."

"Please," Dr. Wilson said. "If I'm going to help you, I need to know more--"

"Do you ever feel evil?" Cassie said, not looking at Dr. Wilson.

"Evil?" Dr. Wilson said.

"Yeah," Cassie said. "Do you ever feel like your actions are so inherently wrong, that they border on evil?"

"No," Dr. Wilson said. "I feel unhappy with myself at times--I feel regret for certain actions. Everyone does. But I don't feel evil."

Cassie smiled. "Lucky you."


TWO WEEKS AGO, 7 P.M.

As per instructions, Cassie had stripped the four Winslow's completely nude and mummified them from ankle to neck in duct tape. Then she had gagged all four with tape. Now only their bare feet and startled faces were visible.

They writhed at her feet now in the main entryway of the mansion, four cocoons, moaning and pleading at her with their eyes.

Cassie checked her watch. "Almost time," she said softly.

At some point, the wrapped Winslow's scooted closer together, to try to offer some sort of comfort to each other, and Cassie had to look away.

Then there was a buzz on the intercom.

Cassie pressed the talk-box. "Yes?"

"It's me, darling," came the voice of the Russian woman. "I arrive for packages."

Cassie buzzed her in and opened the door. The Russian woman backed a white van up to the door and climbed out, smoking a cigarette. She saw the bound Winslow's and smiled.

"Perfect," she said. She reached for one of them and Cassie grabbed her arm, stopping her. The Russian gave Cassie a dirty look.

"You know better than to touch me, Cassandra," she said.

"Tell me why!" Cassie said through gritted teeth. "Tell me why you want all of them..."

"I don't have to tell you why."

Cassie took a gun out of her pocket--a gun she had gotten from the closet upstairs--and pointed it at the Russian woman's head.

"Tell me why or I'll blow your fucking head off," Cassie said, cocking the gun. The Russian woman didn't even break a sweat. She just stared at Cassie with her cold gaze.

"One of many companies I run did business with Mr. Winslow," the Russian said. "And he swindled a lot of money from us. You see, what people don't know, is that Winslow's company is mostly bankrupt. He run it into ground. He need to steal from other people to keep his fortune going."

"So just take him," Cassie said, her voice shaking. "He stole from you, just take him."

The Russian woman laughed. "We need to make example. We need to let people know that no one steal from us. And if they do, there are consequences."

Cassie looked down at the Winslow's. She looked at the twins, who both look terrified beyond belief.

"This is who we are, Cassandra," the Russian woman said. "This is the life we choose."

Cassie lowered her gun. "Take them," she said.

"Help me load them," the Russian said.

"Fuck you," Cassie said. "Do your own grunt work."

The Russian woman smiled. "Very well."

One by one she took the squirming, screaming Winslow's to the van. There were four large white boxes inside--coffins. She put a Winslow family member in each box, and sealed the lids.

"What about the bodyguard?" the Russian woman said.

"She's in the closet."

"I take her too," the Russian woman said, and grabbed the struggling Inga. "Oh, she big woman!"

Cassie said nothing.

There was no box for Inga, so the Russian woman merely laid her on the floor of the van next to the coffins. Cassie could hear the "mmmphhs" of the Winslow's from inside.

Shoot her, she thought. You have the gun in your hand. Shoot this bitch in the head and let them all go. And then leave town. You can do it.

She looked up and caught her reflection in a mirror. She waited for the reflection to tell her what to do, but the reflection was silent.

"Tell you what," the Russian woman said, slamming the back door of the van. "Since you have such hard time, I double your pay."

"Whatever," Cassie said. "We're through. Don't ever contact me again. If I so much as catch a whiff of your Vodka-soaked breath, I'm going to blow your head off."

The Russian woman smiled, but said nothing.

"What's going to happen to them?" Cassie asked.

"Trust me, darling," the Russian said. "You do not want to know. I wouldn't want you to lose any sleep." She climbed into the van, and drove away, off into the night.

Cassie returned with the mail truck to the alley, and untied Betty. She gave her a bottle of water.

"Drink this," Cassie said. "Slowly. You're probably dehydrated."

"What are you going to do with me?" Betty whimpered.

"Nothing. Here, get dressed," Cassie said, tossing Betty her mail uniform. Betty put on her clothes with shaky hands.

"Please," Betty said. "Don't hurt me..."

"I'm not," Cassie said. "I swear. I'm sorry you had to go through this today. But believe me...it could've been much, much worse."

Cassie opened the door to her van and placed the keys to Betty's mail truck in Betty's hand. "Now get out of here."

Betty ran to her truck, starting it up and speeding away.



TWO WEEKS LATER

"Time's up," Cassie said.

"Cassie, you've been silent for almost our entire session," Dr. Wilson sighed. "We haven't gotten anywhere."

"It doesn't matter," Cassie said, shrugging. "Time is up."

Dr. Wilson rose and approached her. "Well, if you have any--"

Cassie grabbed Dr. Wilson by her hair and yanked her closer. Dr. Wilson let out a startled cry and Cassie clamped her hand down over the woman's mouth.

"Mmmmphh!!" Dr. Wilson cried, her eyes going wide.

"Shut up," Cassie said. "It's too late."

She pulled a roll of duct tape out of her purse and began taping Dr. Wilson's hands behind her back, pinning her face-down on the floor with her body weight.

"Cassie, what are you doing!" Dr. Wilson cried. She kicked her legs and one of her tan high-heels fell off.

"It's nothing personal, Doc," Cassie said. "It's business. Someone has their eye on you, and they paid me good cash to snatch you for them."

"What are you talking about!" Dr. Wilson said, as Cassie taped her feet together.

"This is my job," Cassie said. "You wanted to know what it is--well, here it is, first hand. This is the real reason I came to see you again after so long."

"Cassie, please don't do this!"

"I have to!" Cassie cried, and tore a strip of tape off to place over Dr. Wilson's mouth.

"No, you don't!" Dr. Wilson said. "You don't have to do this! Please don't do this to me!"

"I sold two eighteen year old kids into slavery," Cassie snarled. "Do you think I'm going to show YOU mercy?"

"Please!" Dr. Wilson cried, tears running down her cheeks "Please, stop--"

"Do you want to know the real reason the last job bothered me so much? Huh? It's because while a part of me felt bad; a part of me knew it was wrong--another part of me LOVED EVERY SECOND OF IT. Hell, I got off on it. I always have. It turns me on. WHY IS THAT? Can you tell me?"

"Cassie...," Dr. Wilson said, frantic. "Please, just--"

"Tell me why I do this!" Cassie screamed into Dr. Wilson's face. "Tell me what's wrong with me! TELL ME WHY I LOVE IT!"

Dr. Wilson whimpered. "I don't know..."

Cassie smoothed the tape over Dr. Wilson's lips. "Of course not," Cassie said. "No one knows."

She rose to her feet and took her phone out to call the client--and then she caught her reflection in a mirror hanging above the couch she had been sitting on.

"Stop," the reflection said.

"Jane," Cassie said to her reflection, "I...I..."

"Cassie, if you ever loved me, if you love me still, you'll stop. Look at her. Look down at her. She's so afraid."

Cassie looked down at Dr. Wilson and saw the terror in the woman's wide, wet eyes. Cassie looked back at her reflection.

"Do you remember when dad would get in one of his moods?"

"Yes, of course--"

"And I would hold you--"

"Yes!"

"Do you remember how afraid you were?"

"Oh...Christ..."

She dropped to her knees and began ripping the tape off of Dr. Wilson's hands and feet. She pulled the tape off of her mouth and Dr. Wilson let out a startled cry.

"I'm sorry...," Cassie said.

"Please...just leave...," Dr. Wilson sobbed, rubbing her wrists.

Cassie reached out a hand and Dr. Wilson shrank away. "Please, don't touch me anymore! Just leave!"

Cassie fled the building.

She hailed a cab and called the client.

"Deal's off," she said.

"I'm very disappointed," the client said. "I've had my eye on that woman for a while."

"Word of advice," Cassie said. "Leave her alone. She's off limits. If I find out you sent someone else after her, I'm going to rip you apart."

"Ms. Clack, really, this is very unprofessional."

"Get fucked," Cassie said, and hung up her phone.

She got out of the cab of a corner of some street she had never been on, and began to walk. She didn't know where she was going, and it didn't much matter. It was cold--the weather reports said the temperature would drop below zero tonight--and she hugged her blazer tight against her body as she walked.

She walked until darkness had descended on the city in full force, and the music of the night was breaking glass and police sirens. She stopped in front of a real estate office, closed for the night.

She took her phone out and dialed her sister's number. It rang, and rang, and rang, and she was sure that her sister would not answer, and that that would be the end of this.

But then, someone picked up.

"Hello?" a voice said--and Cassie felt butterflies in her stomach. It was Jane's voice, and the sound of it made all the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

"Hello?" Jane said again, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Jane?" Cassie said, her voice choked.

"Yes...?" Jane said. "Who...who is this?"

Cassie felt a tear run down her cheek. She looked straight ahead at the real estate office. There was a sign in the window, featuring a picture of a beautiful, generic suburban house, and above it were the words: PICTURE YOURSELF AT HOME...

"It's Cassandra," Cassie said into the phone, closing her eyes. "It's your sister."

The End.

[mega23101982]

I will see if I can find anymore if I can of these Blacksheepboy413 masterpieces thanks

[mega23101982]

By the time the soldiers cleared a path through the rubble, a helicopter had already picked up Stone, Jones and the captive General, and was high in the air, making a speedy getaway.

On the chopper, the General was put into chains to secure her further.

Stone and Jones sat next to each other and smiled, looking down at the sand below, and the shadow of the chopper.

"Told you," Stone said. "Nothing to worry about."

Jones made sure no one was looking, and slipped her hand down between Stone's legs and squeezed.

Stone gave her a naughty look. "Not HERE. Wait till we're back at the hotel," she whispered.

Jones gave her a wink. "I hope you have some of those zip-ties left," she said. "Because I wanna use them tonight."

Stone grinned. "Don't worry," she said. "I've got plenty."

The End


Chloe came out from the crowd, a shotgun in hand.

"You BITCH," Ivana cried

Chloe stepped closer, pointing the gun.

"On your knees, cunt," Chloe said.

"Fuck you," Ivana said.

Chloe hit Ivana in the stomach with the butt of the shotgun. Ivana gasped for air and fell to he knees.

Chloe took a pair of hand-cuffs and cuffed Ivana's hands behind her back, then walked around front of her.

"Look at me," Chloe said.

Ivana did not look up.

Chloe cocked the shotgun.

"I said look at me, bitch."

Ivana looked up, hate in her eyes.

Chloe held the barrel of the shotgun out.

"Suck it," Chloe said.

"What?" Ivana said angrily.

"Suck it," Chloe said. "Like a big, chrome, loaded cock."

"No," Ivana said, and Chloe saw the fear in her eyes. She smirked at it.

"Do it," Chloe said. "Or I'll blast your skull clean open."

Ivana opened her mouth nervously.

"Good girl," Chloe said, and forced the barrel of the gun into Ivana's mouth. Ivana gagged. "Now suck it."

Ivana complied, sucking the barrel of the gun.

"More," Chloe barked. "Put more effort into it. Make it sexy."

Ivana complied, going to town on the barrel of the gun, licking the tip and deep-throating it.

"Nice," Chloe said. "I hope you enjoyed that, because you're dead."

"GNMMPH!" Ivana cried.

Chloe pulled the trigger.

CLICK.

The gun was empty. Ivana's eyes went wide. Chloe grinned.

"Gotcha," Chloe said. She pulled the gun out and whacked Ivana across the face. Ivana sprawled out, unconscious.

"Toss me some rope," Chloe called out, and Shareese tossed her some. Chloe used it tied up Ivana's ankles, knees and thighs. She forced a rag into Ivana's mouth, and wrapped rope around it.

Then she turned and faced the other "prisoners". The guards struggled and moaned on the ground, kicking up clouds of dirt.

"What are you still doing here?" Chloe called to the inmates. "You bitches are free."

The prisoners cheered in glee, and ran. they fled towards the exit, and filed out into the desert heat.

Shareese came up to Chloe, grinning.

"Dumb broads," Shareese said. "They runnin out into nothing."

Chloe smiled. "Let's go use the phone in Ivana's office. Call for some help."

"Ya know," Shareese said. "You got guts, girl."

"Thanks," Chloe said. "You wanna get a drink when we get out of here?"

"Fuck yeah," Shareese said.

"Good. You're buying," Chloe said, and the girls laughed.

The End

[mega23101982]

Couple of excracts and Short stories of Blacksheepboy413 I also found sorry I haven't found more yet thanks

[Ringo16885]

Couple of excracts and Short stories of Blacksheepboy413 I also found sorry I haven't found more yet thanks

Thanks sharing Mega