Love in a Firefight

Quick primer: This is a light story with a femdom and sexual slavery theme. There's sex relatively early, and then frequently throughout. Friendly, constructive comments are appreciated. The story has two endings, each one with a very different outcome for the hero. Both endings will be posted separately. Just choose the one that suits you best when the time comes.

Enjoy!

*****

1 - Love in a firefight

The landing zone was four clicks south of the compound. The transport hovered low to avoid spotters and dropped him deep in a canyon. All alone, Special Agent Tyson would have to scale the steep gorge walls and hack his way through virgin jungle to make the location.

It was still dark when he rappelled from the chopper. He pulled down his night vision, took a sip from his canteen, and was soon progressing swiftly through tangled, misty forest.

The assault would take place at 0800 hours, and Tyson was the lone wolf to keep the CIA's footprint minimal. If the wrong people found out that he was joining an attack on a drug factory with no clearance, the shit would truly hit the fan. No hope of escape, an unmarked grave in the forest, all knowledge of his existence denied.

Intel had been supplied by one Maria Matapalo, embedded within the cartel by the government. Her file she revealed an almost-supernatural talent for subterfuge. 'Slippery' didn't cut it; Matapalo had spent two years mapping out every factory in the region, passing back reams of pinpoint-accurate info under the nose of the cartel.

Tyson had studied her file and noticed before anything else that she was sexy as hell. He was looking forward to 'liaising' with her in the camp when the time came.

For Tyson was a straightforward man with simple drives - fighting and fucking. It was his proficiency in the former that propelled him into this kind of operation. He knew how to negotiate this terrain, spoke the language down to the dialects, but most of all could more than handle himself when the going got rough, in and out of the bedroom.

He was thinking of Maria as he slashed through vines and fern beds, the sweat already dripping from his forehead. He hurdled perimeter tripwires like the vet that he was. At last he checked his GPS and was in the right spot - 20 metres short of the southern boundary, a little elevated, with views over the canopy, but covered by dense vegetation. He propped himself against the buttress root of a vast ceiba tree and checked his watch - 0745. Just enough time for final prep before the battle.

At the signal of a flare, government forces would attack the compound from the flanks and he would steal in from the south, exploit the battle confusion to locate Hidalgo's hut and take him out. And anyone with him would be collateral damage. It would be worth it. Hidalgo was a load-bearing wall of the cartel's management structure - he had no taste for palatial haciendas; Hidalgo got his hands dirty with rainforest mud and made the operation work on the ground.

As Tyson waited he could hear calls within the camp and the distant groan of trucks trundling along the mud track that served the heavy defences on north gate. He was up against a small but battle-hardened band of paramilitaries. These guys knew every trick, but with their attention diverted they'd never figure he had been there - well, the bullet hole in Hidalgo's head might be a giveaway.

At T minus ten minutes, and with no sight of the signal his keen ears caught the sound of frantic activity. He heard mechanical clunks, followed by the thick, muted drone of an M134 minigun opening up from the eastern wall. Loud pops and deep thuds echoed off the mountainsides to the west. At intervals he could hear screams, and after a shuddering explosion looked to the east to see a column of black smoke billowing skyward. This was bad.

Hidalgo must have known they were coming.

Was Maria compromised? The thought flitted through his head as reached for his sat phone to request extraction. There was a rustle in the undergrowth. His muscles tensed for action.

Tyson drew his ACP, and took a step back the slim figure of Maria Matapolo waded calmly towards him, despite stray rounds from the gun battle shredding leaves and bark a few feet above them. Tyson ducked his head towards her to communicate above the cacophony. He tried to speak, but she held out a lean yet strong arm and pushed him against the tree trunk.

She pulled in and gave him just a moment to size her up. She wore a brown tank-top that accentuated the contours of her small, round breasts. Clinging to her hips were gunmetal shorts, skin-tight against her thighs and crotch. Her short black hair was pushed back, and the caramel skin of her bare thighs and arms glowed in the close, damp heat of the jungle. She carried no weapon.

He should have been fearing for his life, but a funny thing happened when he looked Maria over: The gun-battle, fear of detection, the mission - everything began to dissolve into insignificance. The urgency of his orders dissipated like steam, and pretty soon all he could see were Maria's parted lips and dusky eyes. She took a last step towards him and they were almost touching, staring into his eyes apparently oblivious to the peril around her.

The notion of resisting her never even crossed his mind. As if possessed he thrust out his hands, and his fingers linked tight around her toned ass. With adrenaline pumping through his veins she weighed nothing in his arms as her tender legs locked behind his back. Her tongue plunged into his mouth while her vagina, already straining succulently against the stretched material of her shorts, urged against the rigid bar of his penis. In this hysterical state there was only one goal for Tyson. He spun her against the shelter of the tree trunk, and with one frenzied hand freed his cock from his pants.

Maria's ripe lips planted the softest kisses on his neck, and in his ear she whispered throaty words that began as moans before finding their form. "Cogerme duro", over and over. "Fuck me hard".

Tyson tried to push her legs down so he could slide off her shorts, but Maria simply gripped tighter and reached down to open a clasp where her slick vagina met her ass. No sooner had the material flicked up and Tyson nudged at her entrance, prompting a gravelly moan to escape from Maria's seductive mouth.

His penis was harder than he could remember feeling, as if every capillary had become engorged to its fullest, forcing the shiny head point back towards his belly. The broad crown of his cock met with resistance at the mouth of Maria's flooding cunt, but, out of his mind with lust, Tyson had no mind to be sensitive; he powered inside her and found himself enveloped in a hot, pliant grip.

He imagined a thousand tiny tongues were receiving, holding and releasing his cock in one juicy motion. At the back of his mind it occurred to him to slow down, because the pleasure was so intense he would blast inside her with just a couple more thrusts. Tyson prided himself on an ability to fuck until his partner was exhausted with ecstasy; this wasn't following the usual script.

Maria knew he was teetering on the brink and decided to tip him into oblivion. Her voice was like a wet tongue invading his ear, communicating with his very soul as her firm ass flexed with his palms. He couldn't discern the meaning of her words, but sensed their texture. But when he processed "Correrte", "cum", his body became laser-focussed on its own pleasure.

He was surging to a swift climax. With a powerful thrust that rocked her body he was there; his legs shook, his fingers dug into the flesh of her shapely ass and mindlessly he filled her with his cum, spasming over and over, as her own delayed climax gripped his cock tight and pulled more semen from his body.

Tyson fell to the ground, rendered immobile by a tidal wave of chemicals released by his brain. In a sublime, incurious daze he watched as Maria fixed herself up and called out through the forest. The next thing he noticed were gun barrels pointing down at him, and the last thing he saw was the butt of a rifle slamming into his forehead. Captured.

2 - All too easy

Tyson woke slowly. He was on a chair in the centre of a small hut. Hands were behind his back but wouldn't move - ankles fastened to the legs of the chair. Having been knocked out a few times in his career he winced, expecting the usual delayed pain to kick in, but his senses seemed numbed . He figured he might have been sedated, but also recalled that this blissful sensation began when he came inside Maria - oh, that bitch. She was going to get it now.

Before him stood an armed paramilitary, watching him emotionless as he regained consciousness. Satisfied that he was awake man tapped on the hut's rickety door, and within a minute of Tyson's awakening, Hidalgo was before him. The boss wore a stylishly-tailored linen suit with a blue pocket square, and held a panama hat in his hand by the pinch.

"First we need them to know that we have you, Agent Tyson. After that you'll be put to death on camera with the rest of the Government dogs. It's all the honor you deserve."

His tone was cold and businesslike, belying his flamboyant appearance

"And I want you to know before you die that Maria, your trusted ally, set the trap. Try not to dwell on this during the hour or two you have left on this earth. Adios."

Tyson tried to retort but found his mouth gagged by rope. He wasn't afraid of dying; he was just pissed that it would end this way. He had been thrown to the wolves on bad intel. He was mad at his bosses, angry that he got seduced, but most of all he was mad at Maria. He itched for a chance to get back her. Hidalgo had departed, but not before rolling up a sleeve and landing a cheap shot on his chin.

Trying to get his jaw moving again, Tyson noticed that there two sentries, one on each side of the door. If there were to be any chance of escape he needed to act fast. As he devised a plan he could hear a female voice issuing curt orders to the sentry outside.

"Compruebe el perímetro con los demás."

"Sí, señora!", came the unquestioning reply and with the sound of footsteps in the mud he was gone, off in haste to check the area for more government troops. Maria then addressed Tyson's guard through the door, and instantly the man was fumbling obsequiously with the lock. When she entered Tyson started swearing into his gag, but she seemed amused, and puckered her lips in a teasing air-kiss.

She addressed the guard, and the tone of her voice melted from sharp to silky. Tyson looked up to see the man's confused expression, as Maria drew close to him and began to stroke his neck with a single slender finger. After a moment his cheeks became flushed and his eyes closed. Maria began to growl to him as she had to Tyson when they fucked that morning.

The very cadence was irresistible, and as Tyson looked about him and tried to work out how to escape his nostrils caught an overwhelming scent. The smell, like burnt honey, was pungent and disagreeable at first, but as it filled the hut Tyson found it had a welcome, soothing effect on him.

As Tyson watched the pair Maria ran a hand up and down the guard's arm. His gun fell out of his loose hand, and he was statuesque, unable to act on the lust that was taking over him and forcing him to take deep, visible breaths.

Maria began to kiss his neck and by now Tyson was transfixed. She stared back at Tyson as her hand eased its way down to the guard's crotch, which she began to massage with her fingers. Tyson saw her fingertips converge at the head of the guard's cock through his fatigues.

Her tongue made a smooth circuit of those plump lips and she guided the man's surrender with murmurs in his ear. His pleasure was building and her shiny painted nails became a crimson blur. As she gazed wantonly at Tyson she rubbed the guard faster through his pants, and he was now tumbling towards an powerful climax.

He was on the edge, but just at the man's crescendo Maria pivoted on her left foot, and, with the grace of a ballerina, whirled her bare right leg to smash it into his nose. A pink mist enveloped his head and he slumped to the ground unconscious, Maria's foot returning to the ground in a smooth motion. The last thing Maria released was his erect cock, still gushing cum into his pants. He never even knew what hit him.

"Hello, dead man. Your superiors are all in mourning - it's quite a tragedy."

Tyson's arms tensed against the rope.

"I can't trust you not to hurt me, Tyson. But I think you know how to escape. The guard has a knife and someone as skilled you can cut that rope in seconds."

The devastating kick played over in his mind. Tyson was now hot for her to the point of madness, and that heavy fragrance in the room made his head swim. He peered hungrily at her tanned, lean body and got to understand how she had survived all this time.

"I had no choice. The government team caught a tripwire, and Hildalgo's men would have tracked you down. And they'd have taken down your transit too. "

In that instant she seemed completely genuine. He even rationalised their tryst earlier as 'one of those things'. It wasn't like Tyson to turn down an easy fuck, even surrounded by a gun battle.

"You surely don't believe me, but I want to prove that I'm on your side. Hildalgo has your gear in his hut. You can still take him out and get to your extraction. Nearly all his men are on a goose chase out in the forest."

She looked down and seemed delighted by his helplessness.

"Oh, but let me feel you once more."

As sense of pride forced Tyson to shift in the chair and avoid her touch, but he couldn't deny his animal attraction. Maria lifted her top above her pert breasts. Her nipples stood erect on the swollen podium of her dark areolas. Despite his contempt for Maria, Tyson's mouth watered at the thought of sucking on them. She unclasped her shorts and began to grind into Tyson on the chair. He forgot about the betrayal. He forgot about the situation; his body was back in fuck mode, but she pulled away.

She smiled provocatively, "I'll find you when you finish the job, and after that you can get out of here."

As he watched her shapely ass, barely contained by her shorts, sashay out the door, Tyson knew what he had to do. He spotted the fallen guard's scabbard, and hurled himself towards him, rolling onto his back until he could use the fingers of his restrained hands to prise the knife from its sheaf and get to work on his bonds. He wanted to believe that he was concentrating on the objective, but Maria and her seductive body had conquered his thoughts. It was just convenient that for the time being at least what she wanted and what the bosses wanted were the same thing: Hidalgo's immediate demise.

Hands now freed, he got to work on the rope around his ankles and sliced the gag from the back of his head. He peered through a crack in the door and observed a camp with nobody to defend it. Tyson had studied plans of the place, and quickly got his bearings. Hidalgo's hut was on the north side, separated by the tents where cocaine was still being refined. Production wasn't even halted by a government raid. Trucks chugged the goods off for storage at a secret airfield nearby - a solitary strip amid thousands of acres of jungle.

Armed with the guard's gun and knife, he leopard-crawled his way through the saturated rainforest mud, under the cavities beneath huts, down into swampy drainage ditches, until at last he found Hidalgo's quarters. There was little muscle left in the camp - it was all scattered out in the woods - so he had to make the most of it and strike fast. He resolved to get the job done, get back to base and put this crazy day out of his mind.

He opted for silence and surprise, diving through the doorway and pouncing on the drug lord with his borrowed knife. Shock bulged the dying man's eyes as Tyson finished him off quickly and silently, as he had been trained to do. It was almost too easy.

He had no time to reflect when there was movement in the threshold, and Maria's body cast a shadow on the room.

"You're even better when you're motivated. The hijo de puta had two personal guards - Special Forces defectors - but I...gave them something else to think about."

Maria approached Tyson with slow, deliberate steps.

"Hidalgo was another matter - he had no interest in women. That was why I needed you."

Hidalgo's hut was a makeshift office, and his corpse reclined at ghastly angle in his leather chair. Tyson had no cause to mourn. While Maria spoke Tyson was getting his equipment together and trying to verify his own survival with mission command. Resting against Hildalgo's desk, he had his satphone in his palm when he sensed something at the periphery of his vision.

It was Maria's shiny red fingernails, which were snaking their way down between her legs. He tried to ignore her, but with the door now closed her heady scent started fucking with Tyson's mind once more, to the point where he couldn't even focus on the screen.

He tried to remember the peril he was in - Hidalgo's crack troops could return at any moment. There were other innocent prisoners in the camp about to be executed. Maria was not to be trusted. He knew what happened last time they fucked. Tyson was a maverick, but Christ, he knew about protocol. He knew this was wrong.

But the more he tried to resist the more powerful the urge was to give up control. And such was his desperation to keep it together that when he inevitably caved it was with a violent explosion of pent-up lust. He cried out, pulled Maria's supple body towards him at a speed that seemed to break even her composure. His hands tore at her top and caressed her breasts as she stared down approvingly. She was working at his pants, liberating another steely erection, the size and firmness drawing a gasp despite his fevered state.

She exposed her swelling labia with a flick of her fingers and Tyson didn't waste a moment. He shoved her down onto the desk so their bodies were at right angles and impaled her ripe cunt on his rock-hard cock. Maria was electrified by Tyson's urgency, and invited him to grab her inviting breasts while they rocked in unison, his cock buried to the hilt inside her.

Angry and wild with lust, Tyson pounded her as if to punish her duplicity that morning, but she accepted him with a mysterious readiness that turned him on even more. This time he was going to make sure she would cum first. He wanted to see her defeated. Horny thoughts dashed through his mind of cumming onto that cheeky smile of hers, coating those bee-stung lips with his spunk and leaving her for good in a fucked-out heap.

Yet when he made eye-contact with her she peered back with an eyebrow raised in a kind of confected pity. It felt like she was belittling him. So he fucked her harder to gain the upper hand. He wasn't to know, but with every push he was giving more of himself to her. Again, Maria's legs clasped to him and drew him in, and all those plans of humiliating her were blown away by his own jet-stream of pleasure. He was like a virgin, utterly under-prepared to enter her sexual world.

He was finding it harder to drive the head of his cock into her juicy, tightening vagina. Only Maria's smooth, seeping juices made it physically possible. And when he withdrew, his outsized glans glided tight against her walls, shooting electric jolts through his body. The power coerced his balls to empty and the cum escaped his tip at high pressure. He so wanted to see her squirm that he shouted again when his on-rushing orgasm foiled his plans once more.

As chemical pleasure flushed to every corner of his body he raised his head to see Hidalgo's corpse opposite. Dreamily he expected to feel shame or guilt, but felt nothing except his weary knees buckling beneath him. Maria lifted an arm to grab Tyson's collar. It was as if she knew that gravity would defeat him and wanted to ease his way to the ground.