[This will be Part 1 of a five chapter story. I hope you enjoy ]
The air in the stifling room hung thick, smoke from the man's cigarette stubbornly curling towards the lone ceiling fan. It was twelve past midnight in Bogota, Colombia. The windows in the derelict building were boarded shut. Only the naked bulbs hanging over the interrogation table provided light or the appearance of warmth.
Two sisters were bound to wooden chairs with blindfolds tied tightly round their heads. Trisha and Carly were alike almost in every way. Both young women had beautiful, lush blonde hair a stark white instead of the typical golden. Their luscious, full-sized breasts were larger than the petite models in a Victoria's Secret catalogue but not too heavy to weigh the women down when they wanted to saunter with the sexy sway of their hips. Each blonde's ivory skin had seen little sun and now glistened under the harsh light.
The interrogator gave them a grim look as the cigarette dangled from his mouth. His massive biceps rippled under a network of nightmarish tattoos. His entire physique screamed of some sort of demonic hybrid between a giant and a bull. He stood more than 6'10. Though a white undershirt barely contained his rippling torso, camouflaged army pants and boots filled out his appearance.
"So...I see you do not want to be cooperative." The Russian gave them a dangerously placid look. He looked Trisha over. The only detectable difference between the two blondes was that Trisha's hair hung long and straight down her back in contrast to Carly's curly locks.
He slowly approached both women, towering over them beside the table. He put a hand gently on the back of each girl's neck, feeling the jolt of their bodies shuddering under his touch.
"I have asked you where your friends are hiding, and you have said nothing helpful," the Russian complained, enunciating slowly, word for word.
Ivan had good reason to be impatient. The FSB agent had been sent here to kidnap the two grown daughters of the President of the United States, Gerald Kane. His ambush had gone almost completely according to plan except for one small miscalculation. One of the Secret Service agents had heroically died and allowed them to escape into the streets of Bogota. They were still able to capture three of the American friends traveling with the President's daughters, and this included Trisha and Carly...but the clock was ticking. It was now a race against time as Russian agents searched the streets of Bogota. He needed this information, and quickly, before the President's daughters found safe refuge. Would they make a break for it and attempt to contact the U.S. embassy? What was their likely course of action? Was there a pre-arranged safe house, and had these girls been told about it? He suspected that they had.
All these questions swirled through Ivan's mind as he interrogated the girls.
The big Russian slammed his hand on the table.
"I do not have time for games!"
Both women jumped in their seats. Ivan drew out a combat knife and slowly used it to cut away Trisha's blindfold. The blonde girl met his stare with brave defiance, which was saying something given the state of her dress. Ivan drank in the blonde girl's mouth-watering curves. She wore only her underwear and a bra. Exquisite, melon-shaped breasts gave way to a tightly-tucked belly, lean hips, all of it underneath a cute face with finely chiseled nose and innocent blue eyes. He slipped his hand inside her bra, cupping the breast and feeling the nipple bead underneath his pressing fingers.
"Uhhh...stop it you freak!"
"Mmm..you not like Ivan's caresses? Then you talk, stupid slut. Where is the safe house? Where are Danica and Ivy? Tell us where your friends are and you can go free. No one will blame you for giving them up...a poor, captured American girl scared for your life in some foreign country! What you have to lose, hm?"
Ivan abruptly grabbed the elastic waistband of her panty just above Trisha's ass and pulled it back, letting it go with a loud slap that made her wiggle. Even as he did so the knife came down towards her crotch, the flat of the blade pressed against her barely-covered slit, the point impaled on the chair cushion between her legs.
"You can't do this!" Trisha cried shrilly. "Let us go!"
"Oh, I think I can." He looked for a moment thoughtfully into those baby-blue eyes. "But I think you need to truly believe the situation you're in."
With sudden force he pistol-whipped poor Carly, sending the blonde sprawling out of her chair. The blindfolded blonde lay lifelessly on the carpet as Trisha gaped, words failing her. At the same time Ivan stalked over to the wall and pressed a button. A crackling voice could be heard on the other end, and then Ivan replied, "Bring in the other bitch. We'll interrogate them together. I think I've softened up one of the blonde sluts."
A few moments later 23-year-old Trisha gaped as they brought in Gabriella. The young woman-turned-captive had luxuriant brunette hair and bronze skin. She looked like a true Brazilian sex goddess. But her disheveled state looked far different than those fleeting moments before the three of them had been ambushed. Now Gabriella's tear-streaked face had been gagged, her hands cuffed in front of her. She wore only a slender panty and bra as well. Sweat clung to her smooth, unblemished skin and glistened between the cleft of her breasts.
Another big Russian, this one without tattoos but stocky as a pig, thrust her to her knees and pressed the barrel of a gun against one of her beautiful cheeks.
"This slut hasn't been talking yet either. I think we need to take a more direct approach."
Ivan nodded and put a brotherly hand on the other man's shoulder.
"You speak truth, Igor...these sluts are slow learners. Maybe we need to speed up these lessons, yes?"
"Please, we don't know anything!" Gabriella screeched. Trisha watched with horror, trying to weigh her options. Should she say anything? But Ivy and Danica were her closest friends, and they were the daughters of the President! Their lives were more important than hers...or even Carly's. She loved her sister so much...yet she loved her country too, and she didn't want to betray her best friends and sacrifice her honor just because of fear.
Besides, would these twisted psychos even let them go? Who was to say they would live up to their bargain if she told them the truth?
So Trisha kept her mouth shut even as Ivan cut her panty away and slashed her bra strap, sliding the useless fabric off her now naked and sweaty body.
"Mmmm...look at what we have here. Last chance to talk, bitch. Where are the President's daughters? Where is the fucking safe house?" Trisha looked defiantly into the big Russian's eyes.
"You must have shit for brains if you think I'll talk," she spat. Trisha waited for the hand to strike her, but nothing happened. Instead she was greeted by the roaring laughter of both men.
At last Igor's belly stopped rumbling and the stocky Russian agent grinned maliciously. "Oh, comrade, we are going to have fun breaking these bitches in. Much, much fun."
"Wait! What are you doing! Stop it!" Trisha moaned as Ivan knelt between her legs, spreading her thighs and inserting his tongue into her moist depths. Suddenly his squirming, pliable tongue was grazing hot against her snatch. The unexpected stimuli made her gasp and writhe. Her bonds held her wrists fast to the chair-back, and both of her sexy legs twitched but couldn't move because of the ropes binding her ankles to the outer corner of each chair leg.
Trisha felt the tattooed Russian's hands massage her buttocks cheeks even as his tongue wormed deeper. Her heart beat like a staccato drum inside her chest. The sweat pouring off her brow and torso now found a new home between her legs. The heat there turned into something else...becoming the tiniest bit electrified...as the rapist's tongue found that sensitive nerve bundle.
Her clit was on fire...engorged. The blonde captive didn't know what to do. She squirmed. She writhed. Trisha's neck snapped backward as she moaned and the distinctive squelching sound of gathering wetness rose from between her legs.
"Ahhh..yes, you taste good slut. I can feel you getting wet. Maybe I get you off, then you thank me by telling me where your slut friends are, yes?" Ivan crooned, his tongue lapping at her like a hungry beast. Trisha bit her lip and shook her head, but the moans he pried from her lips belied her defiance.
She closed her eyes, trying to forget that Gabriella was watching her moments of humiliation. Curiosity though somehow won out over horror, and she opened her eyes again, locking her stare with Gabriella's. The brunette captive didn't seem to have any judgment scrawled over her expression. Her friend watched with deadened, horrified eyes as the Russian rapist licked and sucked her blonde friend towards climax.
And then she was almost cumming. It was like an earthquake about to rip through Trisha's core.
"Please stop it!" she moaned. Her crotch though had already been pressed unconsciously against her rapist's mouth. The blonde's straining pelvis was already pressing her clit eagerly onto the Russian's tongue.
"Your body says otherwise," he grumbled roughly between the loud, wet slurps as she finally lost control. His hands grasped her waist tight as she shuddered and writhed. The juices came pouring out of her, flooding his triumphant face. As he came away, her juices glistening on his chin, a look of victory flickered momentarily in his eyes.
Trisha's reddened cheeks received an immediate slap. Even in the after-daze of pleasant orgasm she felt the sting of his hand.
"You bitch! Did I tell you to cum yet? You tell me now! Where are they?" But Trisha looked up sullenly at her captors.
"Make me cum all you want, you fucking pig! I'll tell you nothing! Not a thing!" She winced, prepared for the next slap, but it never came. Instead she just saw a thoughtful smile spread over Ivan's features.
"Igor my friend...may I borrow your sweet piece of ass?" He gestured to Gabriella's now frantic form. The brunette girl struggled in Igor's arms as Igor stood her up, then thrust her legs wide and pinned her arms against her chest. With equal skill Ivan used his knife to disengage Gabriella's bra and then crudely yanked the panty to the brunette's knees. He made sure that Trisha had a clear angle to see all that was unfolding. Then he turned to the blonde, threw off his boots and pants and peeled the undershirt over his head.
His full, bristling torso of muscle was revealed. But not just that – his cock, enormous, thick, and magnificent, stood out in all its vein-bulging glory.
