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East Coast Slavers Organization – I: A Caribbean Adventure
Chapter 20 – Debriefings (or My, They're Cooperative)
The warehouse door clanged shut and the sound echoed through the dark interior. Aaron had a dripping, icy-cold Pacifico in his hand almost before the echo faded and silence descended on the warehouse.
Aaron had parked right next to the slaves' training area. With no cages available, Aaron had to consider some other options. The best idea was to begin processing immediately and then do some rearranging. Some of the women could be caged temporally in the high-security cages intended for storing weapons, money, drugs, and equipment. The problem with those cages is that no toilets or water was available. Women stashed there would have a ruder introduction to slavery than the other slaves.
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The two blondes were tied over vaulting horses on Training Pad E and the two law enforcement women were hung from the punishment cage on Training Pad H. Emily's friend Pamela was simply chained spread eagle on a pad. Aaron had just finished coding and installing training collars for each of the five women. He walked away to get a few hours sleep with Puppy after turning on the collars.
--L--A--T--E--R--
Puppy wandered across the silent warehouse floor, naked. She woke up and discovered that her lover and owner was missing. Too early for a normal day to begin, she came searching for him and knelt down beside him as he sat bemusedly trying to figure out where to start. Silently, as Doctor Kay forever doomed the disfigured woman, Puppy drew down his shorts and sucked his limp cock into her toothless mouth. Her tongue stud, soft manmade gums, and talented tongue brought him to life. In full sight of all five captive women, she pulled him down to the mattress and straddled his waist. Her exotically tattooed body and enormous breasts made her look like a sex goddess come to life from myth. Completely hairless, pug nose, and dog fur tattoos on every inch of her body, she looked like a cross between a human and dog; albeit 100 percent female.
Puppy loved Aaron Clarke, she loved his cock, and would do anything to please her rescuer and owner.
The bug-eyed women saw the shameless bitch-dog mount their captor and watched as she yanked up the big cock and sunk down, giant breasts swaying as she corkscrewed her way down the big stick. Her hips started speeding up to massage and yank at his cock. Aaron lay limply, arms outstretched, enjoying the fuck as the marvelous muscles of his favorite slave yanked and squeezed every inch of his fuckmeat. Even the talented muscle control of Regina Tyre failed to surpass Puppy's skills.
All five women instantly hated and feared this unworldly looking creature with such sexual control of their captor.
When Puppy rolled off the exhausted slaver, the women saw pearly drops of jism glistening on her grossly distended pussy lips. Each echoed the same thought, "Damn, that's a big cock. We'll be ruined for life after too much of that."
The women saw the creature leave and their silent captor sat back down in his chair to observe their nakedly displayed forms. Each was silent, the women because their collars had already ensured through a painful series of shocks that silence was mandatory.
All too soon, Puppy returned with two women in front of her. Puppy and the black-haired woman were now dressed identically in black; heels, fishnet hose, short leather skirt, leather bustier, and dog-training collars the same as every woman seemed to have in this place.
The third woman was different. She walked as though tired and completely cowed. She was naked save for the collar and a bondage belt around her waist that locked her elbows tightly to her sides.
The slim and beautiful black-haired woman simply said, "Cunt! Get to the blondes." Life and purpose seemed to flow into the defeated woman and she ran, huge tits flopping to the exposed asses of Emily and Karen. Cunt now sported a set of E+ breasts that likely were larger than Puppy's mammoth tits. The surgeon (Doctor Joan Miller) that Aaron met at the B&D club in Miami was only too happy to enhance the submissive slut.
Regina and Helen winched at this eager display to please, never realizing that to the woman known as Cunt, a formerly independent businesswoman, the task of tonguing, licking, and sucking orgasms from a fellow slave was far preferable to the alternatives that she knew so well. Slurping and sucking sounds filled the otherwise silent warehouse.
Ingrid returned to silence and stood expectantly waiting for word from either her Master or Mistress. Puppy walked up behind her and suckled on the sensitive skin of her neck before pushing her toward the two dangling women, Regina and Helen.
Moments ago, Puppy gave Ingrid her instructions. Ingrid was to do the rough punishing introductory session with these two slaves, a process normally done by Aaron. Ingrid repositioned the women face to face, each with arms and legs outstretched and touching the other woman. She wrapped a small chain around each girl's neck and drew it tight, forcing then cheek to cheek. Double nipple clamp sets with cruel teeth secured the girls nipple to nipple. Similar sets of jawed clamps with one inch of chain between jaws joined the now distended labia and clits to those of their former partners. Finally, the big toes and thumbs of each girl were trapped against their mirror twin with four sets of thumb cuffs.
Following her orchestrated instructions, Ingrid hugged and caressed each girl from behind and said, "Your collars will be turned off for this session only so that I can hear your screams of agony. If any other sound reaches my ears, then you will finish the session with the collars turned on. Any reward earned by one is shared equally by the other. Any failure or disobedience by one results in equal punishment. Regina and Helen, you are now only worthless cunt meat. Only as a pair, a trained set, will you hope to escape painful torment. If you want to live, … the choice is simple, … obey and obey eagerly." Ingrid reached between the two, grabbed a pair of nipples in each hand, and admonished, "Look at the Cunt eating the blonde sluts. Look!" with that, she twisted all four nipples as hard as she could, eliciting twin howls of pain from the two women. "Her lot is never better than this. Eating cunt and sucking ass will be the high-point of her day. Fail and you get this, or worse."
With that, she stepped back and viciously administered five blows from a riding crop to each exposed ass cheek. Each rapid stroke was met with shrieks, cries, wails, howls, or tears. The blows echoed painfully from one girl to the other. Each thrashing movement tugged sensitive flesh of the other, intensifying the pain in nipples and cunt.
Ingrid moved her expert blows to the swollen sides of the four breasts tightly packed against each other in an effort to protect their already tortured nipples. Ingrid was expert at crop, paddle, whip, and strop thanks to the diligent, and forced, training methods used by Puppy. Ingrid was punished in private for each sub-perfect blow struck during a training day. Until she improved, Ingrid often received more punishment than she dished out. These were the harsh rules Aaron and Puppy imposed upon Ingrid if she wished to retain her privileged status.
Ingrid next rolled a small table beside the sobbing women. Every inch of exposed skin that a crop could strike, from their ears down, was swollen and marked from the hundreds of swats made. Each girl even had marks covering her exposed cheeks, neck, and forehead. Ingrid was an artist at this.
Two buckets held two dildos each. Ingrid never hesitated in her insidious task as she drew on latex gloves and picked up a tube of muscle relaxing cream. The highly aromatic liniment was spread thickly on the two largest dildos and then they were replaced in the bucket. Thick, goopy Thai chili paste was spread across the six-inch length of each slimmer dildo.
Ingrid looked at Belinda bringing one of the blonde bitches to another orgasm and called, "Cunt, come here."
Belinda scampered over with apparent excitement and Ingrid whispered instructions into her ear. Both Ingrid and Belinda had once experienced the effect from the liniment and chili sauce. Neither hesitated with the next step; each fully realized that failure to perform satisfactorily meant facing the same punishment themselves.
At the end of Ingrid's chanted, "One, … Two, … Three," each shoved a dildo into a cunt and an asshole. Liniment-covered nine-inch cocks fit into cunts and chili paste-covered six-inch cocks went into asses.
Unearthly howls of pain reverberated through the warehouse as both Helen and Regina began to scream themselves voiceless. After two hours, each slipped into blissful darkness as they escaped the pain by the only avenue left, merciful unconsciousness.
Prior to passing out, neither Helen nor Regina noticed the equally loud shrieks from Emily and Karen as their own orifices burned as if glowing steel poles were disemboweling them. Every slave in the warehouse shivered at the shrieking and each privately renewed their vows of absolute obedience to their Master and two Mistresses.
--L--A--T--E--R--
Pamela Bondi was not left out of a punishment introduction. She lay in fear, naked belly up and helpless on the mat, while the howls of pain surrounded her. The two women chained face to face wriggled like worms on a hook when the monstrous dildos were thrust into their innards. Her friend and another blonde bound across the leather vaulting horses joined in the chorus of agony. They were unable to move much beyond their hands and feet that grasped at the air as if to escape the torment. The naked one named Cunt and the black-haired Mistress approached her and each grabbed an ankle. She whimpered at the thought of her beating to follow. Instead, she saw her feet raised up in the air and folded back toward her head. The girls tied ropes around her knees and secured the ends to her collar. Pamela felt herself open and widespread to the view of these strangers. Her brown patch of unruly pubic hair was exposed to public view.
Ingrid disdainfully tugged on a tuft of curly pubic hair and said, "Cunt, fetch a bowl of warm water and shaving equipment. This forest has to go now."
Pamela was nearly in shock. Here four tortured women howling out in distress surrounded her and this woman was complaining about her pubic hair. If not for the collar, and her nearly crushed diaphragm, she would have told this bitch a thing or two. Pamela was spoiled, just as her more beautiful friend Emily was. Both women had fallen far in just a few hours. Emily already knew this and Pamela was soon to find out for herself.
Ingrid started with a small pair of grooming scissors. She snipped and tugged off tuft after tuft of the long coarse hair until only thin stubble remained. Next, she squeezed out the excess hot water from a steaming towel and folded it across the mass of remaining hair on Pamela's mound. She thought the woman must never wear a bikini because the forest extended up toward her belly button. "At least the bitch has shaved legs," Ingrid thought to herself. She pulled the towel off and spread thick, green shaving gel from below the woman's asshole up to her belly button.
Pamela was humiliated. She had never been exposed like this and now the woman was drawing a razor across her pubic area. Everything burned slightly from the cutting blade, only somewhat soothed by the shaving gel. The burning sensation brought heat into her loins and she blushed in realization that the feeling was becoming pleasant. In fact, the extra blood flow and the dance of fingers and blade across her sensitive skin felt really nice. She tried to wriggle a little in response. The only result is that her cunt lips twitched and winked up into the air.
Ingrid saw the woman's responsiveness and noted it for passing on to her Master and Mistress later. For now, she sent her slippery fingers on her left hand sliding around the woman's twitching cunt lips, adding more stimulation than needed in order to get the shaving accomplished. She saw with some satisfaction that the woman had a soft orgasm from the stimulation. Ingrid gently wiped off the residual cream and stubble. A few small spots remained near the woman's ass and between her widespread cheeks. They were quickly dealt with.
Cunt knelt passively by as her Mistress shaved the new cunt bald. She took some pleasure in inflicting pain and humiliation upon others. Given her luckless situation, she pretended that the others were actually lower on the pecking order then she. Cunt shivered as the long-term reality of her situation overcame any temporary daydreams of conquest. There was no doubt who was the lowest cunt in the warehouse. She stood silently as Ingrid motioned her to rise so that a series of straps could be wrapped and tightened around her waist and groin. She felt a twinge of discomfort as something went into her cunt and heard a loud click. Looking down, Cunt saw that Ingrid had attached a threateningly large penis to her groin. A pearly drop of something glistened on the realistic appearing tip of the cock. Ingrid leaned over to whisper in her ear and a bulb was set into her hand.
Cunt felt a wave of heat flow through her as Ingrid spoke. What she asked her to do was so depraved and awful that instant arousal swept through her. She fell to her knees facing the helpless woman and waddled up toward the recently denuded cunt and ass. Cunt's fingers wriggled about and she tried to think how to accomplish her task without arms. Cunt's elbows were tightly locked to her waist. She couldn't lean forward and support herself on extended arms. Instead, she wriggled her hips about until the massive cockhead aligned with the cunt before her; the head barely able to nestle into place between the folds of labia. With no other solution in mind, she simply fell forward across the folded woman's body and buried half the cock in one stroke.
Pamela saw the woman approach with the massive upthrust cock and fall heavily to her knees, gigantic breasts bobbled up and down from the fall. She whimpered again as she realized that a woman was going to fuck her with the largest dick she had ever seen. It was far longer and thicker than her husbands five-inch cock. She thought that the cock was nearly a replica of the man who captured them the night before. She laid in the van and heard the sounds of sex and quiet complaints from the four women as he fucked each. Pamela remembered that one woman eagerly embraced her rape and made more muffled noises of encouragement than she used with her own husband. "One of them is a real slut," she thought. Then the cock bumped against her cunt and the memory fled with the reality of her own situation. Suddenly two giant orbs of flesh hit her face and the cock speared deep into her pussy. She had time to note the strange rigidity of the stretched titty flesh that threatened to suffocate her before the sweaty body above her started to wriggle the rigid pole deeper into her guts. One of the girl's hands painfully squeezed her right breast as the awkwardly thrusting woman regained her balance and smoothly began to fuck. Even without foreplay, Pamela was moistened and nearly ready for sex by the atmosphere of pain and humiliation that surrounded her. Unconsciously, her hips swiveled to allow the cock less painful access to her depths. The release of painful pressure allowed the pleasure from the wide girth of the cock to sink in. "You slut, Pamela," she thought, "You actually like this." Her cunt eagerly swallowed the giant dick and her hips tried to increase the pressure against her clit. "Ahhh, yesss," she moaned to herself. Collar still on, she dared not make a sound as the fucking escalated.
Just as the woman below her relaxed from her orgasm, Belinda (Cunt) squeezed the bulb in her right hand. Thick goopy cream flowed through a thin tube running to the fake balls at the base of the monster cock. Cunt had just pumped the burning liniment into the bitches vagina through the pisshole at the end of the fake dick. She ground the mammoth cock around, coating every surface with the painful cream while the stubby end in her own cunt swirled around and around. As she came herself, she couldn't help but squeeze the bulb again and again despite Mistresses admonition against it. Suddenly, her own cunt exploded with pain. It felt as if a bucket of live coals were trapped inside her. She had flooded her own cunt with the liniment.
Aaron watched the final drama unfold before him as the Laundry Cunt vigorously fucked the bound woman. He knew she couldn't resist pumping extra cream into Pamela. When the diverter valve in the cock switched to the stubby cock in Cunt's pussy, the result was electrifying. She fell backward out of Pamela's punished cunt and rolled around on the floor trying in vain to pull the cock out of her own pussy. Her elbows were too tightly bound high on her waist for her hands to help and she flopped and rolled, unable to alleviate the pain and unable to shriek because of her dog-training collar.
--L--A--T--E--R--
Karen Rigdon, the former undercover agent was the first to confess her sins. She was so eager to avoid the punishing dildos that any question was answered fully and without thought of evasion. She knelt on a soft mattress, her cunt and ass oozing the soothing cream that Ingrid just pumped in. A recorder and microphone were on a stool before her. She started to speak:
"My name is Karen Rigdon, I am, … was an agent of the United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement Office. I am twenty-four and a volunteer undercover agent. My mission was to ingratiate myself with James Lee and gather evidence against his criminal enterprise. I, …" and she continued to speak. Additional questions and cues were silently slid in front of her so that she could continue her debriefing uninterrupted.
Each of the five was debriefing in a similar manner. The sessions extended well into the early afternoon.
Aaron sat considering his options and the possible opportunities. Bone weary from the last twenty-four hours, he knew this was no time for a major decision. But, he made decisive plans anyway. Aaron got out his piercing kit and went to work on the two law enforcement agents.
Thirty minutes later, Aaron sat in his reclining chair between the two pain wracked agents. Each had their bleeding, just-pierced tongues clipped to a line tautly leading overhead. Their arms were cuffed behind their backs and they stood on tiptoe, partially because of the tongue lines. Heavy fishing line ended in large barbless hooks brutally tugged each of the four nipples harshly away from their chests. Each had their own law enforcement badge ringed above their pussies with new piercing rings.
A set of fishhooks in each labia distended the pussy lips open by the lines terminated with wraps around their feet. The two were weeping and in obvious pain.
Puppy raised up from the video viewfinder and signaled her readiness to Aaron.
Aaron nodded and sat still a moment to collect his thoughts before the video began. He wore his black covert operations clothing and a matching black hood covered his head.
Mr. Lynden," Aaron began, "I am about to become your best friend. These naked cunts beside me were law enforcement agents at the stakeout near your associate's home this morning. I'm sure you've seen the news bulletins regarding his murder and the arrest of his bodyguards."
At this point, Puppy shifted the camera to the tear-streaked faces, the bleeding tortured tongues, the painfully distended breasts, and the punished pussies. She then tightly zoomed in on the two badges. Aaron's voice continued throughout the video scenes depicting the tortured women.
"… and that's how I managed to capture these two bitches, just as their partners drove away, leaving them to clean up the mess at James' home. So, for one million cash, you can have these two cunts who will eagerly sell out their comrades, their organization, and tell you every known fact about your drug trafficking organization. Plus, you get their weapons and a bagful of tapes and evidence that will never get to the authorities. You can probably make a profit selling the women to your South American contacts. They would like to know some tricks to protect their businesses while torturing some police cunt."
Aaron and Puppy continued filming for a few more minutes. He prepared a syringe of sedative for Helen and palmed one of her aching tits as he stuck her in the ass with the drug. Using scissors, he cut the titty lines and the tongue lead before laying the woman gently to the mat.
--L--A--T--E--R--
Aaron walked out of the courier services office and approached a pay phone. "Hello, I'm calling about your unfortunate acquaintance, James. You will receive a courier package in less than an hour. Play the video in private and I'll call you." Aaron hung up before Oscar Lynden could speak. He would be getting Puppy's tape and one of the police surveillance tapes in an hour or so.
Aaron had one more stop to make before he turned the poor women over to the vengeful drug dealer. Aaron reached over to Puppy's leg and caressed it through the long summer dress that she wore. Puppy had on her cross-trainer shoes, an ankle-length summer dress, a shawl, and a veil stood handy to cover her head later on. She grinned in excitement and from the trust Master had endowed in her. Puppy was key to Aaron's plan and his very survival. The two miserable women rested quietly in the back of the van.
Aaron made his final stop before driving over to the marina to pick up his boat for the second of three rental days. The boat rental agent thought Aaron enjoyed evening cruises to escape the summer heat while having a little romance. Aaron encouraged this misunderstanding.
--L--A--T--E--R--
It was now well past dark and Aaron stood behind Puppy on the rocking boat as she reviewed each control one more time and practiced handling the boat in turns and backup maneuvers. Puppy had already operated the boat for an hour or so as she drove it from the bridge site where the Mercedes was parked all the way back to the marina. She was able to maintain visual contact with Aaron as he drove the convertible south to the marina where he got back on the boat. Aaron's new car was one-step closer to his warehouse. Puppy's newfound boat skills would be crucial that night if sometime went wrong; she would be the getaway driver.
At ten o'clock, Aaron called Oscar again, "Yo, it's your new friend." He went silent and awaited Oscar's reply.
"I want them. I want the stuff, too. The money is no problem; I got it here with me now. That's all we can say till we meet."
Aaron spoke back into the phone, "Meet me alone on the middle of your dock in ten minutes, the money should be in a soft bag. Your men stay on land, mine stay in my boat. It's a simple exchange. My pets become yours and you pay the delivery fee. Enjoy training the two dogs, they are both real bitches."
At the dock, he tied a light line to a cleat on the dock and nodded to Puppy. The boat's throbbing engines idled throatily. She was ready to floor the throttle in reverse at Aaron's signal.
The hobbled and collared girls were swung one by one from the stern to the dock and then slowly led by their leashes toward the middle of the pier.
Splinters on the dock tore into the girl's tender feet almost unnoticed by the silently sobbing women. They knew that they were fucked. Each beautiful woman looked brainless and whorish from the large ring through each tongue, and the attached leash keeping them from closing their mouths. Each of the four titties still sported a large barbless fishhook with a foot of dangling line. The lines from the labia hooks were still anchored to their feet; even the baby-steps due to the restricting hobbles painfully distended the tender flesh. The dog-training collars were still locked on each lovely neck.
Regina Tyre (the twenty-six year old brunette former lawyer and worker for the Miami Bureau of Statewide Prosecution) and Helen Powell (the twenty-seven year old black-haired former policemen and member of the Florida Department of Law Enforcement) watched in miserable silence as a tall, intensely angry-looking man left his armed associates and approached the trio. They each knew who this man was, even though no evidence directly linked him to any specific crime.
Oscar Lynden threw down a heavy duffle bag and appraised the women. Aaron silently passed over their leashes and said, "Bitches, heel!" Without regard for their punished tongue, tits, or cunts, each knelt down and placed a cheek on Oscar's feet. Their cunts stuck straight up into the air.
Aaron dropped his own smaller bag and spoke, "Mr. Lynden, here is the evidence as promised. You will find a preliminary list of informants already run against your organization by the authorities. These two cunts will fully cooperate with you. They are already pretty well-trained after just a few hours."
Oscar nodded and smiled grimly, "You think they have linked me to James Lee?"
"James got caught by this dick. He was trading sex for discounted cocaine and one of his bitches rolled over on him. Hence the taskforce. They know about you, but lacked evidence to get warrants. Now with James dead and these two missing, the shit will hit the fan," Aaron replied. "Also, the dirty agents that killed and robbed James are still at large, probably considered heroes by the police. I think you need to lay low for a few weeks and let your lawyer handle things. It will soon blow over with no evidence against you."
Oscar grinned and replied, "Yeah, they'll be upset about James dying and these whores missing. I have just the place to question these two and play a little."
"Get everything out of them first though," Aaron cautioned, "and don't go someplace that too many of your lieutenants or guards know about, at least until you deal with all the informants. That should be your first priority."
Aaron forced himself to shake hands with the scummy drug kingpin and walked away, money in hand. He last saw the two women still kneeling on the dock, crying and filthy from their ordeal. Aaron thought sadly about how much worse it would get for them.
Puppy gunned the motorboat in reverse the second Aaron dropped heavily to the deck. Without looking up at Puppy, he quickly dumped the money on the deck and rummaged through it for any electronics or explosives. With obvious relief on his face, he looked up at Puppy and said, "Got it girl! The game is on." The bundles of money were left, flapping in the salty breeze as Aaron stood behind his pet and hugged her.
Puppy was thrilled to be out in the open and able to help her beloved master. Escape to any chance of a normal life was impossible. Instead, her devotion and love for him grew stronger with each training session and experience. Her awkward hands managed the wheel as Aaron increased the throttle and returned his hands to her hips. She felt his teeth nip below her soft, floppy ears and his whispered, "Good job, Puppy. I love you so much." Her heart skipped a beat and then despite the cool air, felt her body flush from the top of her head to her toeless feet. Aaron's hands started to unbutton her dress from its low neck all the way down. The wind drew the dress open to flap in the wind around Aaron's form as he opened the front-closure bra and her breasts burst free. Only Puppy's lacy panties now concealed any of her lush body's charms. She tingled with increasing eagerness as her breasts were tightly squeezed and her fleshy tit meat squished through his widespread fingers. "More than a handful, Master," she dreamily thought to herself as her knees almost buckled. She still craved his affection, much like her namesake, a puppy. She felt her ankle-length skirt billow up above her ass and an erect cock brush between her butt cheeks. Aaron flexed his knees up and his thick bar of a cock nestled between her legs and lifted her up. His voice commanded into her ear, "Brace your elbows on the wheel, Puppy and steer the best you can."
With that command, her ass was pulled up and away, throwing most of her weight forward onto the steering wheel. The boat veered wildly for a moment as she fought to regain control of the speeding boat. While she was preoccupied, Aaron quickly yanked the crotch panel of her panties aside and readied himself to drill into the exposed pussy.
Her chin shot into the air and she silently shrieked with a combination of lust and pain as Aaron plunged her belly down onto his upthrust cock, nearly burying it in one brutal thrust. She loved it. The boat swerved wildly through the dark bay as her legs hung limply, ass fully supported by his hands as they fucked her body up and down atop his incredible fuck pole.
Aaron used Puppy's tight pussy as if it was mounted on a sextoy, paying no heed to her pleasure. Instead, Aaron visualized the two miserable policewomen's plight as he plundered the velvety pussy that tightly clasped his cock as his hands drove her hips up and down.
The engines slowed and the boat settled into a smooth track. Puppy gloried in the feel of the air across her now fully exposed body and the sticky jism that dripped down the inside of her thighs. She grinned knowing that nobody else got her Master's sperm in the ass or cunt.
She tilted her head back and guzzled from the offered bottle of ice-cold Pacifico Beer. His voice again muttered in her ear, "Never forget, Puppy, that we can make life worth living. This is what it's about." He left her to continue piloting as he replaced the one million dollars in bills back into the drug dealer's bag.
--L--A--T--E--R--
Puppy was once again fully dressed as they lounged on chairs in the boat's cockpit. They were bobbing at anchor, just offshore, under the bridge to Key Biscayne. Aaron was intently studying a laptop computer display. The screen showed a digital map of Miami with a series of red and blue dots that formed a trail leading north from Key Biscayne. Every five minutes a digital signal was received and plotted; the signals alternated between Regina and Helen. The screen depicted the exact location of the two women in the merciless hands of Oscar Lynden.
Aaron's last stop of the day before going to the marina had been at the offices of Doctor Joan Miller. The thirty-eight year old surgeon was only too happy to help the man she knew as Robert Morgan. The kinky doctor doubled as the staff doctor for a local B&D club. She eagerly helped in subjugating subs to their Master's demands. Aaron gave the doctor two small GPS transmitters programmed, on five-minute offsets, to send a silent, digital position signal out each ten minutes. The doctor crouched in the back of the van and ratcheted each of their cunts open to huge caverns using gynecological speculums. She then dilated each woman's cervix and punched a hole through the tough ring of muscle that kept it closed. A small gold ring was threaded through the hole and crimped shut. The tiny GPS units were then painfully jammed into the open cervixes and anchored in place with the ring. The units were not likely to be discovered, as the girl's collars were also transceivers that constantly 'shook' hands with their control unit. Oscar's electronics gurus could sweep the women for signals and easily confirm the controller was a standard dog-training unit. Aaron hoped the drug kingpin would quickly relocate to safety. He was right.
The row of blinking dots formed a perfect trail indicating from Regina's red dots and Helen's blue dots that the two women were together and moving southbound down Highway 1 toward Key West. The plot clearly showed the women crossed overhead on the bridge leading to the mainland from Key Biscayne.
Aaron told Puppy to head south, paralleling the coastline. The night was clear and moonlit; so the boat easily cruised up to forty-five miles per hour, slicing through the gentle swells in the sheltered waterway.
About an hour later, Aaron confirmed that the vehicles containing the women turned south toward Pennekamp Coral Reef and the Florida Keys. Aaron told Puppy to stay on the Florida Bay side of the island chain and head toward Key Largo.
The twenty-eight foot powerboat again bobbed gently just offshore, this time offshore from a small community of homes located between Key Largo and Taveniek. The GPS locator indicated that the women were in a new-looking beach home just an eighth of a mile away.
Aaron briefed Puppy to remain with the boat and await his flashlight signal from shore. The boat idled softly up near the shore and Aaron jumped out with a duffle bag across his shoulder. He landed in waist-deep water and signaled Puppy away. Without a backward glance, he waddled ashore through the one-foot surf.
The home was in a modest neighborhood and not likely to draw attention as the retreat for rich drug dealers. Many of the windows were lit, but drapes blocked any view of the interior from spying eyes. Aaron's greatest fear was that neighbors would have dogs that noticed his presence. In that case, he had already decided the women were on their own despite his intent to rescue them.
There was no garage, only a carport holding a large, black SUV. The home was above, raised on timber columns and safe from surges of water stirred up by tropical storms. Seeing only the one vehicle, Aaron thought, "Perhaps Oscar only has a bodyguard or two with the women."
Aaron circled the home, staying hidden in the foundation bushes outside the columns. He could hear male laughter from above, but nothing outside in the immediate vicinity of the house. He crept back to the rear and glided up the steps to the deck above. Sliding doors accessed the master suite and a dining area, each with ocean views during the daytime. The rooms were silent within. The deck door to the bedroom was unlocked. Aaron knelt down and duck-walked into the pitch-black room. It was empty of life. Several large, bulging duffle bags were stacked by the master bed.
Aaron considered the large bags and smirked as he doubted that they were full of clothing. He was congratulating himself on a good plan. His inattentive daydreaming was shattered by the sound of water from the master bathroom.
"Shit! Wake up you stupid fuck," Aaron ranted at himself. "Focus, Marine. This is enemy territory and there is no back up." He moved toward the partially open door and saw a woman admiring herself in the mirror. Water cascaded in the shower stall behind her.
The black-haired woman was stunning. Her long legs ended in one of the more spectacular asses Aaron had ever seen. The woman put a hand on one hip and twisted her skimpy thong-covered cunt away from his view. She was admiring her own ass. Her red bra hung uselessly off her shoulders; the center clasp already undone. She twisted back, full-face to the mirror, cupped her tits up, nipples erect and pointed toward her own face. Steam from the shower billowed over the shower door and began to fog the mirror. She dropped her red bra and moved toward her open balcony door. Obviously an exhibitionist, she pirouetted twice, perfect tits exposed to the Florida night and then stalked back into the steamy bathroom.
Later, Aaron would discover that her name was June Curl, Oscar's twenty-five year-old girlfriend. Too pretty to focus on her college studies, she became a party girl and met Oscar through her cocaine connections. She had moved in with Oscar over a year ago and the two were inseparable.
She finally noticed Aaron's shadow and turned. Her left nipple sprouted a dart and its twin anchored itself in the side of her right breast. She slumped toward the floor with a slight 'O' to her pursed lips and a little whimpering moan.
Even unconscious and slumped awkwardly on the floor, June was totally fuckable. "The red heels and panties are a nice touch. You must be his bitch," Aaron whispered to the unconscious woman as he quickly handcuffed wrists and ankles. Aaron had a ballgag perfect for her outfit; of course, it was red. Aaron stuffed the bound woman tightly under her bed frame and headed back toward the suite's entry.
Aaron knelt behind the still partially ajar bedroom door and listened. The main activity was down the hall and in the greatroom beyond. The kitchen, livingroom, and dining area were all open and comprised an 'L' of the rectangular home. Only two bedrooms were at Aaron's section of the house.
Aaron settled down to wait. Oscar appeared to be with his head accountant, a small mousy man, prematurely bald. The two sat at the dining room table, interrogating Helen Powell, formerly of the Florida Department of Law Enforcement. She was tied naked to an armchair, knees pulled lewdly open and tied tightly toward the chair's rear legs. Helen's arms were wrapped with white nylon line to the armrests. She was still eagerly cooperating. Oscar asked questions and the mousy accountant took notes.
"Where is Regina Tyre," Aaron wondered. He sat back and worriedly considered where she could be. He cursed Doctor Kay for destroying Puppy's vocal cords. He should have a radio to check on the GPS locator signals. "Shit. Shit. Shit." Aaron thought.
He again listened intently for sign of the black-haired woman and any other members of the drug kingpin's gang. With little other choice except to give up, Aaron moved from relative safety to the more exposed hallway and moved to the other bedroom. Shivers ran up his spine as he slipped into the room from a brightly back-lit hall. He froze in place; momentary shocked.
A huge man, naked and hairy, obviously a bodyguard, stood between Regina's legs. Her knees were bent over the foot of the bed and tied to the bed's legs. Her hands could just be made out above her head and pulled up toward the headboard. Both were eerily silent.
Aaron watched as the man grabbed another handful of wooden clothespins and continued to clip them to her body. Dozens of them marched up inner thighs, encircled her pussy and ran down the opposite leg to the other knee. Similar lines were inside her tortured arms, around her breasts, and everywhere.
Regina looked like a pincushion, a porcupine, a very uncomfortable captive. The dog collar kept her protests of pain internal. The vicious shocks were worse than the constant throbbing from her body.
Aaron crept up behind the sadistic bodyguard and discharged the stun gun into his orange-sized ball sacs. As he went down, Aaron pulled him back and away from Regina. Blindfolded, she was unaware of what was happening.
Aaron dragged the man, easily 275 pounds, to the bathroom and slid him into the tub. He picked up a white hand towel and covered his hand before sliding a razor-sharp knife smoothly across the man's throat. The towel quickly sprouted red blossoms of blood through the fabric. The guard's heart killed him as his blood flowed out of the twin, severed arteries. Aaron wiped the blade on another towel and returned the knife to a sheath at his waist.
Aaron returned to look at Regina. Her tongue and tits were tied with cords leading up to the high wooden columns of the headboard. The taut tongue kept her head rolled far back and the fishhooks yanked the tits tightly up. The guard had liked Aaron's idea and replaced the short lengths of twine with longer ones. Aaron looked down to her pussy and saw that the hooks there were missing; they had been moved up to the corners of her mouth. An obscenely tight line ran around the back of her head, grossly exaggerating her smile with the tight hooks. Regina's face was contorted in pain from her bondage, the hooks, and the clothespins. Aaron now revised the number of wood clothespins at several hundred.
His now clean blade flickered out of the sheath and easily cut through the bow-tight line to her tongue. A strong hand to anchor her forehead, and the blade kissed her cheek briefly before cutting the punishing line around her head. Aaron re-sheathed the knife and gently tugged the barbless hooks free of her mouth. The line to her tongue ring was also undone.
Aaron clasped either side of her face and leaned down to whisper, "Calm down, little one. The cavalry is here." Faster than thought itself, the blade was drawn again and with lightening speed sliced through the titty strings. Each full breast rebounded to her chest and jiggled enticingly. Aaron left those two fishhooks in place for now and silently left the room.
Aaron faintly heard the droning conversation from downstairs and hesitated. "He must have a second bodyguard," he thought. "What have I overlooked?" Aaron remained at the top of the stairs listening.
Finally he decided that someone had to be outside, despite his hasty recon. He slipped back out to the rear deck and ignoring the ocean view, turned to look at each side of the home. Aaron only spotted the sentry when he brought his cigarette down away from his mouth. The man hid the ember as he drew smoke into his lungs, but failed to hide the diminishing glow as he brought it down to his side. The bodyguard was some distance form the house and he sat on a bucket, well hidden in a depression surrounded by plantings. Aaron judged the guard could not see into the living room above from his position. Based on the partner's early progress in torturing Regina, the guards were not due to change positions for awhile.
Aaron returned to the bedroom. He had to deal with the guard last, it was simply too dangerous to try and sneak up on him. Aaron blessed the saints above that the bodyguard ignored the seaward approach and only focused on the roadway.
In the end, Aaron just walked into the greatroom, fired the taser at the drug dealer, and calmly used the stun gun on the incredulous accountant. Aaron told the policewoman, "Quiet if you want to escape and live." With that said, he picked up the dog collar remote and activated the anti-bark function anyway. Aaron handcuffed the accountant, gagged him and headed upstairs with the bound drug dealer on his shoulder. In the bedroom, Aaron taped circle after circle of duct tape around his ankles, knees, thighs, waist, and chest. Oscar was going nowhere.
Oscar was dumped into the master bedroom's Jacuzzi tub. Aaron fed a surgical tube down the drug-dealer's nostril and ran the other end up to an IV bag hung from the top of a nearby window.
Aaron slipped outside to the deck again and drifted down the steps to the dunes below. The going was easier and more silent than expected as a small path ran toward the hidden bodyguard. The shoreward breeze kept down the mosquitoes and rustled the sea oats, masking the sound of his steps through the dry sand. The waves rhythmically crashing ashore behind him also helped cover his movements. Aaron held off at a range of about fifteen feet and debated his next step.
The guard took that moment to glance toward the ocean. Aaron fired his 9-mm once and a small dot of red blossomed on the guards forehead, the guns roar exploded into the night, competing with the nearby dull roar of the surf. Aaron confirmed the kill and quickly raced back to the house.
Aaron dropped two of the bulging bags to the sand and aimed his flashlight into the dark ocean. He kept flashing the light until Puppy responded with two quick flashes of light. Satisfied, Aaron sprinted back to the house.
Puppy was using the engines to hold the boat just offshore when Aaron brought his next load down to the beach. He wadded out to throw each of the four bags into the boat and then returned to the house. Puppy pulled back from shore a little to await his return.
Just minutes later, Aaron came plodding back to the beach leading an unlikely coffle of handcuffed slaves. All four had leads to their collars, two on the abused policewomen and the third on a geeky looking guy. The last person in the coffle was a black-haired beauty, naked save for a red g-string. Puppy noted to herself that the woman was better off naked as the tiny triangle of cloth just drew attention. "Unless that's what she wanted," Puppy thought.
Puppy kept the engines to a quiet low throttle as the loaded craft drifted from shore. Her master secured the cargo. As she finally opened up the throttle and flicked on the running lights, her face twisted side to side to catch the rush of air. At thirty knots, she leveled off the throttle and observed to herself that, "Life is good. It is good to be alive." She smiled as she echoed her lover's thoughts and decided that they were true.
Author: Desert Dog ****** E-Mail: Desertlickingdog at yahoo dot com
****** Please consider an e-mail with your opinion on the story ******
****** Alternatively, consider using the BDSM library review option ******
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