Message-ID: <34949asstr$1012083004@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: boonthailand@hotmail.com (Boon) X-Original-Message-ID: <66f537ca.0201260812.4aac42a7@posting.google.com> Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 26 Jan 2002 16:12:18 GMT X-ASSTR-Original-Date: 26 Jan 2002 08:12:18 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Repost - John Argus "The Japanese Nightmare" (Part 2) Date: Sat, 26 Jan 2002 17:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw Dave was on a Transco jet to Tokyo by the next day. Accompanying him were half a dozen CIA veterans, used to what the Agency liked to call "wet" operations. Kingston had been adamant that they do whatever was necessary to rescue his daughter, no matter the cost, and Dave, despite his background in law enforcement, had been too outraged by the videos he'd watched to worry about according any suspects their rights or due process. Carefully secreted on the plane were all the equipment the team might need in their work, most of it highly illegal in Japan. Certainly the fully automatic machine-guns, complete with silencers were. Probably the grenades were too. The ex-CIA boys were happy to be back at the rough work, carefully checking through their equipment on the flight. Dave looked at them cynically, like a zoo keeper watching the animals. He didn't trust a one of them. Oh, he knew they were reliable and very good at their work. He just didn't trust the breed as a whole. He would have preferred to go alone, perhaps with a few friends like Phil and Ed, but these people had more experience in operations like this. The man they thought was ultimately responsible for the kidnapping and abuse of the Kingston girl, was Yoshiro Hamma, a powerful, influential man in Japan, who doubtless had numerous friends in high places to call upon if needed, and to warn him if any official investigation was launched into him or his company. Hamma spent all of his time either at his estate on the coast, or at the top of his company's tower in downtown Tokyo. Like most such men in Japan, he was a workaholic, rising early and spending all day and most of the night at work. That meant they had plenty of time to hit his estate, the most likely place to find the girl if Hamma himself was involved with her abuse. Dave was willing to bet that, despite the danger, he'd had her brought to his personal estate so he could observe, and perhaps, take part in the girl's humiliation and abuse. He obviously was an arrogant man, and would probably feel there was no worry of the place ever being invaded by police. His people would be trusting and loyal, and he wouldn't want to spare the time needed to go to some other hiding place. No. Dave was willing to bet she was there, if Hamma was guilty of course. There was also the strong possibility that this was all a setup, that someone else, perhaps one of Hamma's competitors, had framed him and Gingta. There was no hard evidence of any misdeeds by the man. That his was the only Japanese company Transco had had any significant altercation with was why he was under suspicion, that and his reputation as a man who was not to be trifled with. The Japanese customs people, so thorough on civil flights, were far too polite to give the plane of a powerful corporation, loaded with senior executives, more than a cursory look before clearing them. They did not turn up any contraband of course. They checked into one of the best hotels in the city. To do less would arouse suspicion. Their bags were mostly just weight to fool the hotel employees, though of course, some of their gear was also in them. Their briefcases in particular, were nothing but cases for the automatic weapons within. They'd gotten them from the secret service, who used them to guard the President. Tugging on the handle in a certain way would make the case fall apart, leaving the man clutching the handle of an Uzi ready for action. It was ideal for Japan's corporate mentality, where everyone carried a briefcase. Dave and one of the CIA people drove past Hamma's estate in their rented car, carefully filming it with a small camera. They drove past several times, though careful not to be noticed. There seemed to be only one direction to hit the place from, that being the street. It backed against a sheer drop to the water below. Two other large estates were on either side, both also with high walls and, no doubt, heavy security. Besides, Dave didn't like the idea of climbing two walls to get to the place. Jennie's eyes kept closing, and each time the man slapped her face lightly to get them open again. "I love to fuck," she said, tonelessly. "I like fucking. I like to fuck black men. I like to fuck everyone. I like to fuck women." She spoke into a microphone, her vision constantly blurring and losing focus. "I am a slut. I am a prostitute. I take money to lick men's cocks." Her voice lost strength, becoming a whisper and the man slapped her cheeks again, waking her slightly. "Please do what they tell you Daddy so I can come home and fuck you. You can fuck my asshole," she mumbled. "I want to lick your cock. I want to feel your cock in my cunt hole." One of Yoshiro's assistants had had an inspiration. Over the next video tape, they would play the constant droning of the girl's voice, saying outrageous things even as the tape showed her being abused. Her words would halt when they used the electricity on her of course, for they wanted her screams to come through clearly. "I like to fuck old men and little boys," she sighed. "I like to fuck you and Mommie. I like to suck Mommie's cunt. I like to fuck Uncle Mark and Aunt Ellen. I like to fuck dogs and horses and pigs. I like to play with myself and stick my fingers up inside my cunt." She was sitting on a low stool, legs spread wide. One of the men slid the vibrator down against her cunt and held it there, rubbing it slightly. Her breathing became harsher, her words more strangled. She began gasping and hissing, then started to moan and whine in pleasure. Finally came a deep howling cry of sexual release, unmistakeable and clear. Her ass rutted against the vibrator as she trembled and shook in mindless pleasure. Behind her, her handcuffed wrists jerked and twitched and tried to pull loose. Then she sighed and would have fallen forward had they not held her up. They led her across the room to a large, steel, square framework erected there. Her wrists and ankles were pulled wide and tightly fastened to the four corners of the framework. Then they left her there as the camera focused on the forlorn teenage girl, her head bowed and her body weary. A man moved in, carrying a pair of pliers. He clicked them nastily, then slid the teeth around Jennie's left nipple and squeezed tight. She gasped and shook, then cried out in agony as the pliers scrunched down on her nipple. The man's face was an evil leer as he twisted the pliers around, threatening to crush her nipple into dust. Then he pulled back, dragging the nipple out, pulling her tit flesh behind it. Her tit was stretched outward into a tight cone, the tip of which was her tortured nipple, tightly clamped between the steel teeth of the pliers. Jennifer wailed and shrieked, her body shaking as much as her tight bondage allowed. The man let the pliers open and her tit shot back like a released elastic, bouncing and jiggling as it resumed it's normal round form. The nipple was fat and bulging, swollen in pain still and a deep agony-filled red. He stepped forward, clicking the pliers again as she moaned and her eyes rolled wildly. Then the teeth clamped down on her right nipple, squashing it tightly. Again Jennie screamed terribly, her body quaking and her head thrown back as her tit exploded in fiery pain. The man pulled outward, stretching and distorting her right tit now, threatening to tear her nipple right off the end. But he let go again. Jennifer stopped screaming, instead whining and sobbing and twitching now and then. Both nipples were outrageously swollen with pain, throbbing hotly. The man slid something else from his belt. It was a very sharp needle, about four inches long. He moved right up against her, the camera following, then fastened the pliers around her swollen left nipple, not the whole nipple, just the very tip. He pulled outward a little as Jennifer jerked and quivered, then the sharp little tip of the needle pushed against the side of her nipple. She watched in a dreadful kind of quivering fascination as the needle slowly sank into her flesh. Hot pain erupted again from her almost numbed nipple as the needle pushed into it and then through, sliding out the other side. Although the tip was as sharp as a hypodermic, the needle lengthened considerably along it's length. The man slid the needle fully through the hole he'd made in her nipple, widening it as he forced the entire length of the needle through and out the other side. Then he let her nipple go and moved to the other, repeating his terrible mutilation until that nipple also had a hole pierced through it. Jennifer was an innocent girl, or had been at any rate. Even in her lesbian dominated boarding house, she'd never heard of nipple piercing and would have been appalled to think people did it voluntarily. The man put his pliers and needle away and pulled out a pair of wires. Each was thin and coated with rubber along most of it's length. The last inch or so was bare however, revealing the coppery wires. He slid the bare wire into the hole in her left nipple, pushing the wire through and out the other side, then twisting the end around and tying it off. He pushed the second bare wire through her right nipple, again twisting it around so it was tightly tied into place. She looked down in disbelief, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. The two vibrators had been removed from her cunt and anus, but the chain still remained. The man slid a long, thin metal probe up into her slick lipped pussy, and a second up her rectum. The chain held them in place securely as he fastened wires to the end of the probes, then stepped back. Again there was a pause. Yoshiro waited in anticipation. Unlike with the whipping, there was no movement or sound from the devices. However the girl's body, hanging slackly now, slowly began to quiver. The quivering became more pronounced, and soon her body was trembling visibly. Her head rose ever so slowly, her eyes bleary. Then her head moved back and her muscles strained, as if she sought to bend backwards. A terrible moan came from her lips, a long, continuous sound of misery as her body began to shake harder and harder. Now she screamed, the scream a high warbling cry as her body tore frantically at the framework, shaking violently as electricity tore through her bones and sinew. Her face was contorted, her lips drawn back in a terrible grimace of pain. Her head snapped back and the warbling cry grew louder, more frantic. Her body was shaking furiously, the metal frame rattling, despite it's strength. Her teeth were chattering and her breasts bouncing and jiggling. Her hair began to rise as if pulled upward by invisible threads. For long minutes the camera recorded her body and mind disintegrating under the terrible, relentless electrical assault. The camera could only show the outside though. It could not show the inside, the howling pain, the maelstrom of terrible, agonized sensations screaming along her nerve endings, ripping up an down her spine, frying and bubbling and boiling her insides with it's searing power. Then she collapsed, as if her strings had been cut. Yoshiro grinned in appreciation, saluting himself for the artist he was. As a final, crowning touch, she was taken down from the metal frame and dragged across to another. This frame was a cross, a simple, wooden cross. She was pushed up against the cross and raised off the floor. Steel bands closed around her wrists, her upper arms, her throat, and her ankles, in effect, crucifying her there. The camera watched the unconscious girl hanging there on the cross, before moving to the blackboard. Yoshiro didn't know if her father was religious or not but thought it would have a good effect nevertheless. He sighed and left the room, leaving the girl there on the cross. He showered and went upstairs. It was time for work now. That didn't mean that the girl would be permitted to rest in his absence of course. He had strict plans for her. It wasn't enough to simple rape her body and torture it. He wanted to rape her mind as well. He wanted to turn her into a cheap, slutty whore, a completely demeaning nymphomaniac who would humiliate her father before she died. This wouldn't be difficult. American women were mostly whores anyway. All that was required was to let them express themselves openly, instead of hiding behind an image of dignity. There wasn't much, if any dignity left in this girl, and her mind was a broken wreck. Indeed, before he even left the estate, they'd taken Jennifer down from the cross and used smelling salts to wake her again. Then she was put through her paces, trained as a dog would be, taught what to do, what to say, how to act. It was slow going, not because of any resistance of course, but because of sheer, physical exhaustion, and the fact that there wasn't much mind there to work with. She would repeat whatever she was told to, not unlike a parrot say, but remembering lines was difficult. Remembering anything was difficult. They were helped by the sexual vulnerability of her raw young body. Where pain would not get a response, pleasure would. She learned how good it would feel to plead shamelessly, learned how wonderful her pussy would feel with a cock in it, or up her ass or down her throat. She was taught how nice she could feel if she utterly degraded herself, tonguing feet and boots and assholes. What was left of her mind tried desperately to remember the lines, the words, the expressions, so that the throbbing pain of her abused body would be eclipsed, however briefly, by wonderful ecstasy. She was given injections of protein and adrenalin, sending energy pouring through her bloodstream. When she did well, she was rewarded by the vibrator and dildo, when she forgot, or wasn't enthusiastic enough, it was the whip or cattle prod. Pleasure and pain, pain and pleasure. Her body learned what to do, prodded and pulled and shoved and slapped into obedience. They were aided by Jennie's own mindless responses, for she had become little more than a wild, carnal creature, her sex at the forefront of her soul. Although Gingta Co had no real security branch, the Yakuza kept its eyes on anything that might possibly concern it, and the arrival of a Transco jet definitely concerned it. A pair of rough looking men, their eyes covered by thick dark glasses, soon arrived at the hotel and waited in the lobby, keeping their eyes open for the Transco men while their superiors tried to figure out who they were and why they were in Japan. Inquiries at Hensa corporation revealed no reason for any of Transco's people to be here, and the Yakuza clan involved, the Yellow Dragons, decided that these people were not executives at all but some kind of investigating team. The decision was made to eliminate them. The Yellow Dragons had a lot of time and effort involved with securing a firm hold on Gingta corporation and weren't about to see all of that go to waste. Several more members were despatched to the hotel where the so-called executives were staying. They all went upstairs. The Yakuza would question the Americans and if the answers weren't acceptable, kill them. Six men gathered outside the doors to the suite. One of them quickly slid a pass key into the door's lock and softly clicked it open. The six drew their weapons, four automatics and two revolvers, then the leader made a signal with five fingers. One by one he dropped them and as the last dropped he shoved the door violently open... except that the door didn't open. Instead it jammed hard against something and a horrendously loud wailing came from the other side. He cursed furiously, slamming his shoulder repeatedly against the door, which he was finally able to shove open. He and the others rushed in, to find the room empty. The crouched in place in a semi-circle around the doorway, gazing at the other doors leading to the bedrooms. The leader moved swiftly forward, stealth meant nothing now. He rushed toward one of the door, slamming his foot into it and throwing it open. There was an enormous explosion and his body was hurled backward several feet, most of his chest a red ruin. Several of the Yakuza fired at the doorway but just then the other doors opened and men appeared. Before they could shift their aim, the room exploded with chattering of automatic weapons. Three of the remaining five men were twisted and thrown down at once. The other two tried to back towards the door, firing in all directions, but then there was a sound from behind them. One was able to turn before both went down in a tangled mass of limbs and blood. Dave stepped in carefully, Sean Waren behind him. Both held their Uzi's carefully pointed towards the unmoving bodies... just in case. The other four men came out of their rooms and moved quickly forward, checking the bodies. "Pack up now. Get your things and let's get the fuck out of here!" he yelled. The others ran to their rooms and began to gather up the bags that held incriminating evidence. They were professionals. Within a minute they were all rushing through the doors into the hallway, heading for the fire escape. They sprinted down the ten flights to the basement, then ran across the garage and tossed their bags into their cars, calmly driving out into the street just as the sound of sirens began to obscure the traffic noises. They passed several police buses as they drove away A naked mannequin sat on a chair, a male mannequin. Mannequins of course, were not anatomically correct. So the massive erect penis sticking up from its groin had had to be purchased separately and then glued in place. It was well over a foot long and twice the thickness of most men's cocks. A picture had been taped over the mannequin's face, a picture of Charles Kingston's arrogant face. Jennifer half walked, half shuffled over to the mannequin and stood before it for a moment, then she spread her legs and moved over it. She slowly lowered herself onto the mannequin's large dildo cock, moaning slightly as it pushed against her cunt lips, then slowly dropping down, letting it push up deep inside her. She slid down the length of the dildo cock, whimpering at the thickness of it as it plugged her pussy chamber fully. Her hands were on the mannequin's shoulders as she began to slowly fuck herself on the big cock. The camera's moved in and the microphones were turned up as she whined and groaned and grunted, humping herself up and down with greater and greater force. Her round cheeked ass rose and fell with fast, bouncing movements, taking the entire length of the massive cock up into her belly as she rubbed her tits against the mannequin's plastic chest. She began kissing the picture of her father, moaning and sighing with pleasure. "Ohhh!" she groaned. "Ohh Dadddee! Fuck me Daddy! Fuck me, Daddy! Ohh Yesss! Oh Daddee!" she whined, her ass jerking up and down as the camera focused in on her lips crushed against the lips on the picture of her father. Her hands slid behind the mannequin's plastic head, pulling it towards her as she pushed her own lips harder and harder against the picture. She grunted and sobbed, straining against the weight of gravity as she jounced and bounced up and down the plastic prick. Her crotch gleamed wetly as the camera focused in on it, and the plastic of the dildo shone against the light each time she slid her ass upwards to reveal it. She ground her ass against the upper legs of the mannequin, rubbing herself forward and back and spreading her hot wet fuck juices over it. "Yes!" she cried. "OH YESSSS! YES! YES! YES! YES! YES YES! OH DADDY! DADDY! DADDY! DADDY FUCK ME! FUCK ME!" Her ass hammered down on the plastic man's thighs as she rode up and down furiously. Her cunt slid up and down the glistening wet plastic prick with savage speed, burning her pussy tunnel as she impaled herself repeatedly. She rode the plastic man and cock like she was on a bucking bronco, her belly splatting against the mannequins's as she howled an yelled and cried and whined like a psychotic nympho in heat. She plunged up and down on the shining pink cock with delirious joy, her belly churning and bubbling with lust. The cameras caught every second of it, as did the microphones. It was patently obvious that she was not acting, that she was in the throes of a violent sexual fever. The watching men smiled smugly, pleased and proud of themselves. In the next scene she was sitting on the floor. Before the cameras had been turned on she had been driven repeatedly to the very edge of sexual fulfilment. Each time her tormentors had backed off, leaving her a screaming mass of frazzled nerve endings with a gigantic volcano of raw lust between her legs. She sat there in misery, her hands tied behind her back, trying to squeeze her thighs tightly enough to bring herself off. She rubbed her ass against the floor, moaning softly. The camera watched her. Then a man walked forward, stopping dozen feet away. He was large and bald and black, with a long semi-flaccid cock. Jennifer's eyes lit up when she saw him. Her mouth opened and she licked her lips hungrily. Her breathing grew faster, her breasts rising and falling quickly on her chest. The black man grabbed his cock and shook it at her, a sneer on his face. "Look what Ah got baby." he grinned. Jennifer whined in response. "You want some o' this baby?" "Yesssss! Oh yeesss!" she whined. "Where you want it babe?" "My cunt! Fuck me cunt!" "You want a fuck baby? You want a good fuckin'?" "Yesss! Please! Pleeeeaseee! Fuck meeee!" she whimpered. "Git on yer knees then white girl." he snickered. Jennifer gasped and rolled over onto her knees, shoving her ass up into the air towards the man, spreading her legs wide. She knelt there for long seconds, her face pressed into the stone and her ass humping desperately up at him. He didn't move. She whined and whimpered, rutting her ass back, gyrating it in slow circles. She twisted her shoulders around to look behind her, her eye pleading. "Fuck me!" she moaned. "Fuck me Mister?" "Sorry babe. My cock ain't hard `nuff." She whimpered in distress. "Ya'll come over here and suck on it some. It'll git hard." Jennie started to get to her feet but he stopped her quickly. "Crawl over here, white girl. Crawl over on yer belly." She twisted around, coming down flat on the stone floor, her soft young breasts crushed against the cold stone. She started to squirm forward across the floor, panting and mewling in heat, her eyes focused on the prick hanging between his legs. "That's it, baby. Come an' git it," he cackled, waving his cock again. Jennie wriggled slowly across the floor, her feet and legs scratching and rasping against the floor as she struggled forward on her belly. Finally she reached his feet and he placed one of his bare feet on the top of her head, shoving it down. "You kin clean my feet first, white bitch," he sneered. "Then maybe I'll give you a good fuck up your asshole." Jennie's tongue shot out and she began to stab it between his toes, sliding it back and forth across the tops and then sliding it around the side of his foot and up around the ankles. She repeated her furious tongue bathing of his other foot and finally he grunted and laughed lightly. "You sure are horny, ain't you white girl?" "Yesssss!" she moaned. "Yer pussy feeling hot?" "Yesssss!" "Want a cock up inside you, don't you?" "Pleeeeeaaassee!" she whimpered. "Well, climb up to yer knees and give it a good suck. Maybe it'll perk up." Jennie slowly pulled herself to her knees, her face nuzzling his groin. Then she sucked in his still-soft prick and began to work on it with her tongue. She waggled and wiggled her tongue on it, sucking in her cheeks as she applied pressure to his organ. It slowly began to harden, enough that she was able to begin pumping her lips up and down on it. Her head bobbed in and out, sliding along the length of his wet shaft as she sought to harden it sufficiently to plug her hole. "I think thet might be hard `nuff," he said. She pulled back quickly, her chest heaving. She whirled around, letting herself fall forward onto her shoulders again, raising her ass high. She knelt there, humping up at him for several seconds as he stood behind her. "No... My mistake. It ain't hard `nuff yet," he said. "You gotta suck some more." Jennie sobbed desperately and struggled up to her knees again, turning to face him and sliding her lips over his cock-head again. She bobbed her head frantically, sliding her lips along the shaft, sucking hard, and rasping her tongue against it like she was washing it down. "Now it's hard `nuff," he said, decisively. Jennie pulled away, turned around and fell forward again, once more raising her ass and spreading her legs for him. She trembled and quivered as she waited for him to make use of her burning pink hole. "Not that way, white girl. Git on yer back and spread `dem legs." Jennie rolled over onto her back, spreading her legs wide apart as she gazed desperately up at him. Her feet slipped against the stone as she tried to raise her crotch up for a good deep angle. He grinned down at her, wagging his hard cock up and down, taunting her with it. "Spread yer legs wider, white girl. Wider. Wider!" Jennie tore her legs as far apart as she could, her entire body trembling and shaking, her eyes wide and her chest rising and falling furiously. Her wrists were still bound behind her and she used them to push up against her lower back, raising her crotch off the ground and arching her back. "That looks nice. You want a fuck?" "Yessss!" "You sure? You sure you want this black nigger cock?" "Pleeasee! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" Her body was burning with need, sweat pouring off her. She could hardly breath with the crackling fires howling within her. Her cunt was a searing nova that threatened to burn her alive. The black man grinned again and very slowly lowered himself to his knees between her legs. She groaned and whimpered in anticipation. "I dunno, white girl. Maybe I shouldn't." "Please! Oh Please!" she sobbed. "Please fuck me!" He lowered himself across her body, carefully holding his lower body away from her crotch as he began to lightly tweak her rock-hard nipples. "Sure baby? Sure you want this nigger cock up your fuckin' cunt?" "Fuck me! Fuck me! Please! Please! Please! Please!" He held his cock in his hand, still grinning at her, as if trying to decide. Then he shrugged and pushed his fat, thick cock-head against her hole, He let the head slowly sink into her sopping cunt opening. "OH! OH! Oh Yeeesss! OH YES!" she moaned, writhing beneath him. Then he slammed his cock forward, thrusting it fully into her overheated cunt-box, burying the entire fat length of it inside her belly with a single hard stroke. Jennie froze, then screamed at the top of her lungs. She began to convulse beneath him, shaking and thrashing in a hysterical fit of orgasmic ecstasy. She howled and shrieked like a deranged maniac as the man pounded his long, thick cock down into her tunnel with dangerously powerful thrusts that jammed the hot, hard fuck-stick deep into her belly. Her legs flopped on the floor like a pair of fish out of water. Her head lashed back and forth and her entire body was racked with impossibly violent rocking motions. She bawled and whined and sobbed as the black man punched his rock hard prong into the deepest pits of her fuck-box. Girl juice sprayed out around his furiously pumping shaft as her pussy bubbled over with hot lubrication. A raging firestorm of orgasmic energy ripped through her frame, blinding and deafening her as he rutted down into her. He pulled her ass up to meet his furiously plunging fuck-wand and bent low, seizing her right tit in his wide mouth and biting down hard, trying to rip the entire mound from her chest. His raping cock was jackhammering inside her, threatening to tear her apart with it's violent stabbing thrusts. Then her eyes bulged wide, a look of astonished, disbelief on her face. Her body gave a massive shudder, then stiffened for a long moment. Then she gave a sigh and dropped unconscious beneath him Guncgi Samara tapped his fingers on the table top, glaring out the window in annoyance. To lose six men at once was more than a little unsettling; it was almost inconvenient. He'd obviously been wrong about just what kind of people Transco had sent to Japan. Worse, the police were very upset with him and the Yellow Dragons, and this was causing concern amongst the other clans. Normally the police didn't care what the Yakuza did to each other, finding it much more cost efficient and effective to let them kill each other, than to try and imprison them. Unfortunately his people had been killed in one of the finest hotels in downtown Tokyo, in a bloody massacre that was going to become a very big story, nation-wide. He had lost much face today, both with the police and with his fellow Yakuza leaders. Obviously these people were professionals. Transco had probably hired them from the Mafia, or some other American criminal syndicate. He'd been careless not to think of this. He gazed down at his finger with regret. At the special meeting of clan leaders this afternoon, he was going to have to give them at least one, perhaps as many as three fingers to show his repentance. In the meantime, he would see to it that these American criminals did not leave Japan, and that they didn't talk to the police either. He had already spread the word. Soon their whereabouts would filter back to him and he would send in a first rate team to dispose of them. There were few places in Japan for foreigners to hide, especially from the Yakuza, with it's tentacles in the police, government, and half the businesses in the islands. He would find them, and display their heads to the other leaders. Thus would he gain back his face. Although none of them had ever had to hide from the law, all knew quite well how to go about it. First they got rid of their rental cars, appropriating others in their place. They split up and circled the residential areas, looking for an abandoned house. It took a while, but they finally found one, in a run-down neighbourhood backing onto a dark alley. They easily picked the lock and moved in, searching it carefully for signs of inhabitants. It was empty. Dave eased down onto one of the sleeping mats and tried to think. Obviously their way home was out. The plane would have been seized by now. However the Japanese authorities would soon find that it had been stolen from it's hanger in Los Angeles, and that the names on the boarding list were fabrications. The back up plan would go into effect automatically. Transco would have one of it's subsidiaries send another plane into Narita airport and wait for them. In the meantime, the Yakuza were going to become a major problem. He knew just how organized these people were, and it wouldn't be long before they were found again. They had to get into Hamma's place and get the girl, providing they didn't move her, of course. Technically they weren't guilty of anything other than smuggling in illegal weapons, but he didn't think the Japanese authorities would be very happy with them anyway. "We'll have to hit that place tonight," he said to the others. "No way man," Sean replied, shaking his head. "They'll sure as shit expect that." "If we wait long, they'll either kill us, or her." "Yeah, but it ain't gonna do us any good to go in there and get wiped out." "You have a better idea." "Not yet, but I think I can come up with one." "What we need is a diversion," another of the agents sighed. "For who, the cops or the Yakuza?" "The cops won't have any idea who we are or why we're here. It's the Yakuza that will be parked outside that Hamma character's place tonight, waiting for us to show our asses." "How about a good old fashioned Los Angeles drive by shooting?" one of the men suggested. "What the fuck good'll that do?" Dave demanded. "Well... we shoot up a car or two. That takes out a couple of them. The rest take off after us." "And the police flood the area." "Not for long. They'll pick up the pieces, hang around for a couple of hours... " "Too much time," another shook his head. "By the time they left the Yakuza would be back, even more sure that we wanted the girl." "Okay, so what then?" "How about if the cops come and arrest the Yakuza?" "Fat chance," Dave snorted. "The Yakuza are almost legal. Hell, you want to know where their headquarters are, just look in the phone book. They're all listed." "No shit." "But, it somebody calls the cops, and says that there are a bunch of gangsters parked along such and such a street, the cops will still rush over, especially if they think there's gonna be another shootout." "Yeah, so?" "So they find these guys sitting around in their cars with machine guns, they're gonna take me in, right?" "They would yeah. They'd be out of jail damned soon though." "But we'd have a window there, of maybe an hour or so where the place would be clear of cops and Yakuza..." "It might work, long as we're careful. But not tonight. They'll be all ready for us." "When? We don't have much time." "Tomorrow morning. They'll be more relaxed, figuring if we'd have attacked it'd have been in the night." Yoshiro was worried. Yesterday's events had been disturbing and unsettling. The Yakuza men gunned down in the hotel had been from the Yellow Dragon faction, the same faction he was currently employing. Furthermore the media reports were claiming that the gunmen had been foreigners... Americans who had claimed to be from Transco. He sat back against the several plush pillows propped against the headboard of his large bed. The blonde slut lay draped across his lap on her belly. His hand was softly stroking her buttocks, admiring how smooth and soft and warm they still were, despite the beatings she'd undergone. She sighed and wriggled slightly against him, pushing her behind up at his hand. He frowned and slapped her buttocks, making her yelp and keep herself more still. Then he resumed his calm stroking. His hand slid along the inside of her left buttock, squeezing lightly, then down between her legs, running over her puffy little pubic mound. She sighed again, but kept still as his hand slowly rubbed back and forth against her crotch. Just when he was beginning to really enjoy himself this had to happen. The Americans were a violent people, with no manners whatsoever. Now he'd have to kill the girl before he was ready. His eyes followed the soft folds of the girl's rounded ass cheeks as his hand rubbed and squeezed. He looked towards the window and sighed, his mind turning to business momentarily. His hand continued to absently fondle the girl's ass cheeks until his attention was drawn back to her by the blonde's ass humping up towards him. His right hand slid along the soft skin between her cheeks, sliding down over her pussy. Her legs opened slightly, then opened wider as his hand continued to stroke back and forth along her ass crack and down between her legs. He looked down at her little asshole staring up at him and probed it with his finger, pushing forcefully to get the digit inside to the first joint. She wriggled her ass back at him, mewling in pleasure. He pushed his finger deeper, twisting it around and pushing down until it was buried to the knuckle. He probed the inside of her anus, twisting his finger this way and that, feeling the sides of her ass tunnel as the girl pushed her ass back at him. He pulled his finger out then, picking a bottle of thick lubricating grease from the table beside his bed. He unscrewed it and stuck two fingers inside, digging a thick wad of the grease out and then pushing the two fingers against the girl's asshole again. He twisted them around, shoving them into her as she sighed and moaned happily. His fingers pushed deep behind the greasy lubricating oil and soon both were buried to the knuckles inside her. He withdrew them, then scooped another wad of oil from the jar with three fingers and pushed the three into her. He held his three fingers tightly together as he pried open her tight little, grease-smeared butt-hole and then drove them down into her with a smooth, even pressure. Jennifer began breathing harder, squirming on his lap as he pumped his fingers slowly in and out of her asshole. He pulled her further forward across his lap, his left arm going around her waist, under her belly and hauling her ass upwards so he could look right down at her anus. He pumped the three fingers several more times, then pulled them out and added a fourth. Her ass was oiled up good and it took little effort to get all four fingers into her. The deeper he pushed them though, the wider they stretched her little hole. The first joint was simple, the second much more difficult, getting them in to the knuckle required great pressure. Jennifer was gasping and panting, no longer humping up at him. Her asshole was starting to hurt as he stretched it wide open. He could feel the tightness of her flesh around his fingers as he sought to drive his fingers deeper. With the help of the grease he did it, though it was incredibly tight. Once there he realized that pushing his fingers in further, that is, pushing his hand in further would be simple, for it widened only a little from the knuckles to his thumb. He pushed harder and Jennifer gasped and squirmed downward. He pumped slightly, having difficulty against the pressure, but slowly sank his hand in until the base of his thumb caught against her butt like a hook, blocking any further entry. He wiggled his fingers around inside her, wondering at the strangely elastic flesh inside her. It felt rubbery, warm and soft like silk. He had to get his hand into it, just to see what it felt like deeper, and to see just how high inside her he could get his hand. He slid it back out again to the knuckles and pinched his thumb in tight, shoving it past the little hole. Then he began pushing inward, working in the thumb to the first joint. Now, however, his hand was much wider and it stretched her ass mouth enormously. She whimpered and her small hands gripped the sheets tightly as he drove his hand down. His arm clung tightly around her waist as she instinctively sought to crawl away. He pushed harder, pulling back minute distances to pump slightly, trying to work her open. Each forward thrust brought his hand a little deeper into the girl's anus, each opened her slightly wider. The moment of truth came when he had his thumb in almost to the base. The widest point of his hand would come now as he tried to work in the heel of his palm. Her whining became louder and louder and she began to tremble violently as he increased the pressure. There was a very real possibility that he would tear her open, but that didn't really concern him of course, any more than the pain he seemed to be causing. What was important was his curiosity and satisfaction, and that required burying his hand in the white girl's slutty asshole. He grunted as the pressure against his hand mounted. Despite the thick goopy grease it appeared her asshole was just too small for his hand. But he gave it an extra effort and slowly the heel of his palm slid past her opening. He grinned with anticipation as his hand slowly disappeared into the now widely stretched hole. His fingers sank deeper and deeper into her guts as his entire hand pushed inside, and her anal opening now clamped tightly around his wrist. His wrist still stretched her out of course, but since it was more the proper semi-round shape, the pain was much less for her. His hand bulged out her ass tube tightly in certain places, but the rubbery flesh accommodated it easier. He pushed deeper, watching his wrist move inside her and his arm follow. His fingers seemed to touch bottom then, something hard and resistant inside her. He scratched about against it, trying to determine what it was he was touching, then had an idea. He started to pull his fingers into his palm. One by one, he closed them in until his hand was pulled into a tight fist inside the girl. For Jennifer having his fist inside her was like nothing she had ever felt. It was a thick, hard, bony ball deep in her body, a ball that pushed slowly forward, moving deeper still. With his fingers pulled in, Yoshiro was able to push his hand deeper, gaining several more inches. Now his forearm was pushing into her asshole and opening her further. He pushed until his knuckles came to rest at the very pit of her rectum. He sighed in satisfaction, looking down bemused at the sight of her gaping shit hole clamped around his forearm. It was a truly lovely sight, he thought. He started turning his hand inside her, slowly twisting it from side to side. He worked up pressure and speed, despite the girl's whines and unintelligible protests. Then he slowly edged his fist back, wanting to pump her like a cock. He pulled back several inches, then pushed forward again. Her asshole was so incredibly tight it was hard to get any kind of momentum going. Her asshole flesh sucked and pulled at his hand and wrist, resisting any movement. But as he continued, her muscles seemed to relax, either that or he had simply worn them out. He began to pump faster, using deeper and longer strokes. He started with one inch, one inch back, one inch forward. A minute later it was three full inches, then four, then five, then six, then seven. Soon he was able to pump his fist right up and down her tunnel, grinding his fist against the base of her tube, then pulling it high up the tunnel until it started to pull out against her anal opening. Then he started working on the speed, working his fist faster and faster, completely breaking down her rectum's resistance. Before too long his fist was pounding down her asshole with furious, brutal strokes, mashing and crushing it's way through her guts as she jerked and shuddered against him. The rapid pumping motion, the incredible feeling of his fist working it's way back and forth inside her belly, was bringing back Jennifer's excitement, arousing her sexual fervour as she lay helpless across his lap. She closed her eyes, letting the pressure of his fist tug and push on her groin. She slid her right hand down beneath her, reaching her clitty with her fingers, she began to vigorously rub it back and forth as his fat fist pumped her anus. He was churning her guts to a frothing jelly, pistoning his fist inside her with wild abandon. He saw her hand sliding down to her cunt and laughed in amusement, then gripped her right leg with his left hand and twisted her over onto her back. He hauled up on her left leg again, pulling her around so she lay with her legs around him, and he could look straight down at her cunt as she fondled it. He could still pump his hand in her asshole, though it was more difficult. His left hand slid up to her breasts, caressing them, squeezing the soft meat as she cooed and moaned and writhed in pleasure. Her ass bounced against him as she continued to manipulate her clitty. One of her fingers slid into her cunt slit and began to pump as she ground her nails against her clitty. Her body shook and wriggled, her ass rising and falling with his pumping hand jammed tightly inside. Her feet were flat against the mattress and her knees bent as she humped herself up and down. Yoshiro watched as she came closer and closer to her orgasm. Then he pulled back on his fist, opening his hand and pulling hard as he squeezed the entire thing back out of her anal opening. She howled and whined, bouncing her ass even harder and fingering her cunt furiously. The last of his hand slid out of her with the same sticky wet sound as a baby coming out of a woman's cunt. He shoved Jennifer's legs up and far back, jamming her ankles down against the sides of her head as his raging erection pointed down at her cunt. He stuffed his hard sausage inside with a brutal thrust, jamming it deep into her box on the first stroke. He pounded down into her, his cock a wild piston inside her cunt canal. His ass rose and fell with desperate abandon, then halted briefly. His cock popped free and he slid it into her asshole, gaping wide open still. His cock plunged balls-deep into her rectal tube and he pumped viciously. His cock ripped in and out of her with ease, rutting through the and past her broken sphincter and worn out muscles. His cock-knob bounced heavily off the pit of her ass-tube, then slid back up and out. He pushed it into her cunt again, driving it deep inside her, a powerful steel spike buried in her belly as she came and came, and came again. Then his own climax rode over him and his sperm jetted into her hole, torrents of white semen splashing and gurgling down into her womb. There were perhaps a dozen cars loaded with Yakuza gunmen parked around the streets outside Yoshiro Hamma's estate. They waited there through the night, certain that the American gangsters would attack that night. As day approached they began to worry that the attack would not come. Though dawn of course was an excellent time for attack, the night offered better cover. Dawn broke and the sun climbed into the sky. Many of the Yakuza started their cars with a sigh of disappointment and drove off. Only three cars remained by six, which was a good thing, because the Transco boys' plan had developed a major problem. The little house they were staying in had no phone. Worse, none of them had any Japanese money at all. They had plenty of credit cards of course, but payphones didn't take credit. "Now what the fuck do we do?" Dave snarled, when this ridiculous fact had made itself known. "We could always go next door and borrow someone's phone," one of them suggested. "Don't be a dork." "We'll just have to do it hard and wet," Sean shrugged. "What's that mean?" Sean held up his Uzi and grinned. "A gunfight will bring a hundred cops there within ten minutes." "So we don't have a gunfight. Look, the Japs are probably parked at different points around the estate, positioned to see it, not each other. We use the silencers to take em' out one at a time." "And you don't think anyone will see us all standing around shooting into a car?" "No. I don't. Look at these pictures. That place is packed with rich houses. That means big walls, gardens, trees, etc. Nobody can see the street from their windows. All we have to do is be fast and quiet." Wenzuki Yaklienama was bored stiff. He and his three comrades had been sitting here watching the back wall of the estate for ten hours now and still now sign of the American gangsters. It was after six and he wanted to go down to Kantia district and the little coffee shop owned by that old man Ghoup. Ghoup was terrified of the Yakuza of course, but too poor to pay his protection money. So Wenzuki took out the money in trade, not coffee of course, but in the use of his granddaughter, a sweet, slim waisted, round assed little temptress. He was starting to get a hard-on, thinking about what he was going to do to little Saame when got there, when he yawned, and caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head casually, and stared into a very wide round barrel of a gun. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth opened to scream, but then there was a soft ripping sound and he and his companions all jerked and flopped for a few seconds, then tumbled back lifeless in their seats. The two gunmen let the silencer-equipped Uzi's fall back on their straps, inside their coats. They reached though the car's open windows and shoved the bodies down onto the floor, so a casual passer-by wouldn't notice anything amiss, then rolled up the windows to further hide the scene. The whole action took only about thirty seconds. The other two cars met the same fate. Twelve Yakuza gunmen dying within seconds. Dave and the others moved up against the front wall of the estate. One of the CIA guys was heaved up to the top by two others. He fixed a pair of ropes in place and dropped down on the other side. The others quickly scurried up to the top and dropped over into a lush garden. There was certainly no lack of cover as they moved forward. The problem was that so many booby traps and alarms could be hidden amongst the deep foliage. The had to move very slowly, especially when Sean found a tripwire. They moved over it, avoiding several others, and making a wide diversion around a fixed camera high up on one side of a tree. Then they had to make a stop as another camera was spotted. This one turned slowly back and forth. They waited until it was pointed directly away from them, then two men rushed forward as fast as they could to stand beneath it. It turned back, then turned away. Two more men rushed forward. Finally they were all gathered beneath the pole that held the camera. The house was no in sight, the windows shining with the rising light of the sun. "Glad these people don't like dogs," one of the men whispered." "Just keep your eyes open for more alarms and cameras." Sean hissed. They moved slowly forward to the edge of the foliage. Ahead lay a green lawn up to the edge of the house. "Now I wish it was dark," Dave sighed. "At any given moment, the odds are more than fifty to one that nobody in a given house is looking out the window," Sean said, citing something he'd obviously learned in spook school. They made a rush to the corner of the structure and bunched up there for a moment as Sean gazed quickly at a window. He looked inside, then all around the outside. He turned and gave a sharp nod at the others, then slid the bag he was carrying around and began pulling out tools. First came a small knife, very sharp. He slid it up and down along the sides of the screen, cutting it completely open and off. He tossed it behind him on the grass and stared into the window again. He fished in his bag and pulled something else out. He pushed an electronic box against the glass and a suction cup held it in place. Then he took out a suction cup and glass cutter, sticking the cup against the window and slowly cutting a circle next to the latch. He completed the circle and pulled with the cup. The little circle of glass popped out. The box continued to blink evenly. Sean held another box up near the top of the window, then nodded and put it back in his bag. Dave had no idea what he was doing, but was glad he was doing it. Sean opened the window then, reaching through the hole and unlocking it, and then pulling the window up. One of the men gave him a boost and he half-jumped, half-climbed through the window, disappearing from view. Yoshiro finished with the girl and then had her taken away for the day's punishment and training. Her father had shown no sign of selling off his oil company so today she would be a night mare for her. He had other concerns at the moment, various problems at the company that had to be dealth with today. He gave her little further thought as the blonde was dragged along to the big stone room that she had come to dread. She only hoped that her cooperation would ease the pain they would deal her. They led her over to the middle of the floor and forced her to her hands and knees. There was a small stool there, only about a foot square. It was fixed to the floor and she her belly was placed across it. Then a belt was pulled around her back, fixing her tightly in place. There were now a pair of rings in her pierced nipples, and they slid small chains through the rings, pulling tightly to force her down forther. The chains were bolted to the floor and kept her firmly positioned with her already hanging tits, stretched even more. They pulled her knees wide open and she felt steel manacles sliding around her legs just above them and locking them in place. She began to quiver in worry, fearing what they would do to her now that she was so open and vulnerable. The first thing that happend, as some of them prepared their cameras, and others worked on something else, was that one of the men knelt behind her and gave her a hard, fast fuck. She didn't mind that at all, in fact, began to get aroused as he pumped into her. He finished too quickly though, pulling out as she sighed in disapointment. She looked around the room, trying to figure out what they were going to do. Thankfully, they didn't seem to be working with any sharp instruments, or electrical devices. Then the door opened and a man came in, holding the leashes of several dogs. She stared at him in surprise, wondering what the dogs could possibly be for. The men with the cameras finished working on them and set them up on either side of her as the man with the dogs gave one of the leashes to another man, who led the beast forward...* The first phase of today's video tape was now filmed. She had utterly humilated and degraded herself before the cameras. Now it was time for pain. She was pulled across the room to where a small steel post rose out of the floor. The post was only a few feet high, it's top round and gleaming with grease. It was about as thick as a baseball bat. Jennie's arms were tied behind her back and she was forced to stand over it, then someone turned on a motor and the thing began slowly turning around in slow circles. It started to rise into the air and within second sthe spinning head started to rub against her pussy lips. She sighed in weariness, not bothered by the feeling at all. But the thing pushed higher and higher, bringing heavy force up against her cunt. She tried to move away but the men held her firmly in place as the thing bored upward. She winced and then began to struggle desperately for her pussy was being crushed by the force of the slowly turning post. She couldn't move away though. Her cuntlips were pushed back inside her, and the thing started to actually lift her off her feet. Then her cunt spread and spread and the post's rounded nose began to force it's way into her. She cried out in pain, her cunt pulled agonizingly far apart, the pain feeling like childbirth in reverse. The thing pushed deeper and deeper into her cum-filled pussy as the men held her trembling body in place. One of them seized her left tit and a hook was shoved through the nipple ring. It pulled sharply upward, jerking on her breast, twisting it up hard as she howled in pain. The same thing was done to her other nipple and soon both were sharply stretched cones of meat, pointing upwards towards where a pair of tough elastic cords hung from the ceiling. The pain in her nipples was nothing to the pain that was boiling up from her cunt. The thick round post had reached the deepest pit of her cunt, but continued to push higher. It stopped its turning finally, as if it sensed that there was no further need to go further. Yet still it rose. The pain mounted as it pushed hard against the back of Jennifer's cunt. She rose on her tip-toes, her legs as tight together as they could get considering the post between them. Still it pushed higher, and higher, and higher. \ The pressure against her internal organs was horribly painful. She screamed in agony, her toes leaving the floor as the post, unable to push deeper into her cunt, forced her upward. Her toes wiggled a full inch from the floor as she screamed and cried. She rose higher, another inch, then a foot, impaled on the rounded head of the post. Her guts exploded in terrible waves of agony, cramping and burning and bending as her entire weight was supported on the end of her cunt. She trembled and shook, but kept as still as possible, for every little movement sent more agony searing through her pelvis. What was worse, her body fought to fall backwards, pulling harder against the cords holding her nipples, and threatening death for her if the post ripped out through her belly. Not content with the visible agony on her face, the trembling of her body, and the maniacle gurgling of pain, one of the men stepped forward with a buggy whip and began to lash her back and buttocks. Another moved in front of her with a small, flexible wooden cane and began to whack at her distended breasts. Her body rocked madly atop the post, agony ripping through her from all directions. Her cunt threatened to tear open, letting the post drive up into her belly, perhaps right up into her chest cavity. Her eyes bulged and rolled and her body shook furiously. It took moments for the six of them to make it through the window. They'd left one man behind on the street to keep an eye on the carloads of dead gunmen, and to watch their own cars. The rest of them fanned out inside the room and moved to the doorway. All were carrying the silencer-equipped Uzis as Sean opened the door and peered out. He moved stealthily forward, Dave following. They found themselves in a wide hallway, the floor polished stone. Sean, Dave, and one other moved to the right. The other three men moved to the left. Within seconds they encountered a maid, who gaped at them in terror. Sean seized her and slapped a gag over her mouth while the other man tied her hands. They pushed her into a closet and continued. They moved into a wide sitting room, empty though, and then down another hall. They checked every door, looking for one leading up or down. It wasn't likely the girl was on the ground floor where Hamma would see visitors. A man in uniform appeared at the top of a stairway. He shouted something in Japanese and drew a gun from his holster. All three opened fire, blasting his body full of bullets and hurling him back against the wall. Sean motioned towards the stairs and they started up. Suddenly a door opened across the room and another unfiformed man came out. Sean fired a quick burst that took him in the head, throwing him back on the floor. Dave spotted stairs through the partially opened door and motioned at Sean. It was a lot more likely she'd be down there. They hurried back down and across the room, then through the doorway and down the stairs. Dave checked his watch. It had been ten minutes since they'd killed the gunmen. They'd have to hurry. They reached the bottom of the narrow stairway and found a hallway leading in both directions. The turned right. It was wide and brightly lit, and he realized that the land fell away behind the house and so they were still on the ground floor, so to speak. There was even a sliding glass door on his left, that led out onto a small lawn. They hurried along the cooridor, sliding open doors and peering into the rooms. A man appeared down the hallway and shouted. Sean raised his gun but the man screamed first. The bullets took him in the chest and he spun around and fell. Then a door opened behind them and another man came out. He fired three shots, the sound enormous. One took Collin, Sean's partner in the head, and he fell. Dave put a burst into the gunman's head and it exploded in a red mass of brain tissue and bone chips. "Now the shit'll hit the fan!" Sean growled. They finally stopped beating her and removed the cords from her nipple rings. The half-concious girl slumped down, her body almost falling forward. Then the post began to sink into the ground. One of the men stepped forward then and played with something above her. A noose bounced before her face and she looked at it without comprehension. The man slid it around her throat and pulled it tight. There was slack in the rope so the pressure against her throat was minimal at first. As the post continued to sink though, the slack played out and the noose tightened around her throat. She started to gag and choke, her face growing red as the rope dug into her neck. The post lowered more and more and soon the rope held tight, her feet still several inches from the floor. She strangled slowly as the post slid down out of her cunt and left her flopping feebly on the end of the rope. Her vision blurred and her mind began to buzz and darken. She started to black out, her kicking, twitching feet and legs stilling. The men let down the rope then, not wanting her unconcious, for more was yet to come. The rope was pulled from around her neck and she was given a shot of adrenelin to wake her up for she showed only the faintest reactions and they wanted to hear screams. The dragged her back to the square, upright frame she'd been on the previous day and straped her wrists and ankles to the corners. Then a man rolled out a little cart filled with extremely thin, foot long needles. Another man stepped behind her and then she felt his erect cock push against her anus. She groaned tiredly as she felt his thick organ push upward into her rectum. The man's hands came around her belly and hugged her tightly as his cock pushed higher, not stopping until he was fully buried inside her. His hands came off her then, moving up to grasp the top corners of the frame as he began to hump against her, sliding his cock up and down her shit-chute. His hips spanked against her ass cheeks as he pumped her, taking her mind off the man in front of her momentarily. Then she felt a terrible pain in her side and screamed violently. The man was pushing the needle into the side of her belly. He was not stabbing it directly into her body though, but pushing it sideways just under her skin. She could actually see the line of the needle as it pushed along under her skin. The pain was awful, like nothing she'd ever felt before. Her stomach felt like it was going to be torn open. The line of the needle ran from above her left hip, right across her belly, angling down across her abdomen. He left it there and pulled out another needle. This one was pushed into her side above her right hip, angling upwards under the skin, sliding up under her breast. Again it felt like her flesh, all along the line of the needle's path, had been cut open with a knife. The man behind her was no fucking his cock up into her asshole with furious strokes, pounding against her ass cheeks as he rodded the boner up her rectal tube. Dave and Sean began racing down the hall, no longer trying to be stealthy or silent. They slammed open doors they came to, searching for the girl. A door ahead opened and a man came out, apparently trying to see what the noise had been about. Sean shot him and he fell back into the room. They raced over and found a number of other people in the room, and more, there was the girl, naked and apparently making another fucking movie. The men stared back at them as the two came into the room, guns lowered. Dave moved near enough to the girl to see that her body had been horribly brutalized. There was a man standing in front of her with a long needle in his hand. The ends of three other needles protruded from the girl's flesh. Another man stood behind her, his erection rapidly softening. Sean didn't need to see much more. It would take too much time to take them all prisoner and he wasn't inclined anyway. He fired a full burst at a groupiong of two big black men and an oriental, cutting the line of bullets across their bellies. They collapsed in a heap of limbs. Dave shot the man with the needle, then the man behind the girl as he turned to run. Sean quickly reloaded and shot two camera men as they ran for the door. Dave moved next to the girl and slowly pulled the needles out of her flesh, then began untieing her from the frame. As he pulled her down, the other three CIA guys ran in, having found another set of stairs. The girl was in no condition to walk, so they had to carry her. Fortunately, Larry, one of the CIA guys, was a six foot eight monster of a man. He simply threw her across his shoulder like a bag of laundry and began walking down the hall with her. They were almost at the stairs when a thick door opened and a Japanese man strolled out. All of them recgonzied Hamma. He stopped suddenly, staring at them in astonishment. He had had a shower and changed in his private suite, which was soundproof of course, so screaming wouldn't disturb him. At first he couldn't even comprehend what these occidental men were doing here, then his eyes caught the ass and hanging legs of the white girl across one of their shoulders. He raised his hands and backed away towards his suite, which had a steel door and a private elevator. They watched him for a moment, then all six raised their guns and fired. Hamma's body virtually disintigrated under six streams of high velocity bullets. What was left crumbled in a heap against the door. They turned and climbed the stairs, hurrying as much as they could, rushing down the walk to the main gate. It was locked and unlocked by a button set on the inside and Dave pushed it as they passed. The gate opened and they hurried through. The street was still empty. They moved to the nearest car and put Jennifer in the back seat, then jummped into their own cars and drove off as calmly as possible. The drive to Narita airport was filled with aprehension as they waited for a roadblock or the sound of sirens. They had to lay the girl on the floor and try to cover her with their legs as they passed through the guarded private entrance. None wanted to explain a half concious, completely naked teenage girl to the guard. Fortunately he simply waved them through, convinced that they belonged there by their white skin. They drove towards the hanger houseing they jet and right up to the doorway under the wing. Half an hour later they were racing down the runway. They all knew something of first-aid, but had no idea of the girl's injuries, other than the obvious whip marks, burns, scratches and bruises. If she had internal injuries they couldn't tell. Her temperature wasn't bad though as it should be with serious internal damage. They landed in Hawaii some hours later, where an ambulance waited for her. She was taken to a very private hospital where the doctors carefully evaluated her condition. Surprisngly, her injuires were all superficial. Over the following days her bruises began to fade, her scratches disapeared, and even the whip marks gradually became invisible. What was even more amazing, especially to the psychiatrists who'd seen video tapes of her treatment, her spirit began to return. A fortunate result of the utter breaking of her mind in the early days of her captivity, was that she had forgotten almost everything after that. She remembered being raped, but little of the torture that followed. No one was inclined to enlighten her. She returned to school the next semester, into the soft, gentle, and loving arms of her roommate Connie. But for the first time, she found their lesbian lovemaking unsatisfieing. Images of giant, hard cocks kept popping into her head when she was awake, and erotic dreams filled her nights. She tried to resist them, but her needs became more and more tied into her mind's image of a plunging cock, a hard, throbbing, red-veined male organ. Connie returned to their room one afternoon to find Jennifer spreadeagled across her bed, her hands and feet tied to the posts. One of the caretakers, Fred, she thought his name was, was on top of her, fucking violently into her cunt. Connie stood inside the doorway for long seconds, shocked, and at first, wondering if Fred was raping her. But it was obvious almost at once that Jennie was deleriously happy. She was yelping and sobbing and whining and panting. The muscles stood out along her arms and legs as she pulled hard against the bonds holding her. Connie felt her own pussy begin to ignite as she watched her friend being rodded by the fat old caretaker. Then Jennie came, her mind blanking out, her body flaring in white hot heat as a massive orgasm blasted through her shuddering frame. Her world dissolved into a hot, pounding ocean of sexual bliss that blew her right out of her mind. When she awoke, Fred was gone and Connie was staring at her in bemusement. It was to be the start of Jennie's volountary journey into sexual submissivenes and delight, one that she would not come to regret as her body was freely used by scores, even hundreds of men over the next months. -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+