Cobra Crew Preemptive Strike Ch 01

The Cobra Crew is back, and like all good sequels, it's bigger and badder, with way more helpless babes! The events in "Cobra Crew: Preemptive Strike" take place after my original story, "Cobra Crew: Freeing Escobar", so feel free to check it out if you haven't already, though it is my promise that "Preemptive Strike" will stand up well on its own.

My thanks to those who left encouraging comments and waited patiently for a sequel. Enjoy the new story and share your thoughts with me!

Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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The two shadowy figures made their way across the wide hallway, the padded soles of their boots pressing silently on the dark Mahogany floor. Ignoring the beautiful, Victorian era canvasses on the walls, the pair came to a stop at the tall double-doors of the master bedroom, and quietly turned the key to release the deadbolt. The soft "click" sounded deafening in the estate mansion, but there was no reaction from anyone.

The masked intruders gestured to one another, before nodding in unison, having reached an understanding to proceed. He tugged slowly on the hinged handles, and nudged on the doors until they swung open. With an array of floor-to-ceiling glass panes as windows, the expansive bedroom was graced by the ambient moonlight and the reflected rays from the lake.

Privacy was a top priority for the home owners, and the reclusive location of their house eliminated the need for curtains or window covering. Unfortunately for them, the uninvited guests were also planning to take full advantage of the privacy offered.

Powering off their high-intensity flashlights, the intruders could still see their primary target, sleeping soundly by herself. Her fine, curled-up form was hidden underneath the fluffy covers, barely taking up a fraction of the king-size bed. They also saw the glass of water on the night table, alongside the bottle of Ambien tablets alongside. Without a word, the pair split up, each approaching an opposite side of the bed.

Knowing the effects of the bedtime sedative was in full swing on their target, the two figures took their time. The female intruder located the woman's charging phone on the nightstand, twirled the screen in her hand against the moonlight, and smiled when she located the fingerprints on the touchscreen glass pane. Moments later, she showed the unlocked screen to her partner, giving him a thumbs-up.

He reciprocated the sign of approval, showing her the loaded Ruger Compact pistol he found from the bedside drawer. The masked figure quickly emptied the chamber, released the magazine, and placed all the pieces into the duffel bag he was carrying.

Satisfied, they nodded at each other. Both intruders moved stealthily until they were at the mattress, staring intently at their unmoving target.

Valerie and Ryan had done this numerous times by now, but the thrill of the "go" moment was still unparalleled. Steeling themselves with deep breathes, Val mouthed the words "your show" to him. He nodded and pointed, and she responded by yanking the covers off of the sleeping woman.

The former college linebacker immediately rolled their newest victim to her back, and threw his 6-foot-3, 245 pounds, rugged frame on her. His knees pinned down her arms, and his burly hand easily enveloped the lower half of her face. At the same time, his petite but feisty partner threw her weight on to the woman's knees and bare calves, completely immobilizing her.

"Nnph. Mmmpph? Mmmmpphh!" She cried out with rising concern, her hazy cloud of sedation quickly clearing. The pair patiently waited for her return to reality, thwarting her meek attempts to free herself with ease. In fact, Ryan rather enjoyed the lovely sensation of her heated body stirring against his.

"Stop your struggles, Mrs. Sullivan." Ryan commanded in his deep and booming voice. She slowed her futile defense, switching focus to the hulky figure straddling her instead. He leaned in closer, until he reduced her field of vision to his black balaclava and his piercing eyes in the cut-holes. With adrenaline rapidly displacing her grogginess, the woman tensed and whimpered, her expression an unreadable blend of growing panic and confusion.

"You are being robbed." He announced casually. "When I take my hand away, you will tell us where your valuables are. Got it?"

Ryan watched their victim nod vigorously, knowing from experience all she was agreeing to was not having half her face covered by leather. So it was no surprise to the assailants when Mrs. Sullivan sucked in a lungful of air, and blurted out loudly, "Who are you? How did you get in here?? We have an alarm and my maid is downstairs-"

THWACK! Ryan stopped her in mid-sentence with a hard, stinging slap to her cheek, sending strands of her dark brown hair flying. Squeezing down on her pretty lips once again, he reached for his recently-acquired ballistic knife, and launched the spring-propelled blade right in front of her watery, turquoise eyes.

"Tina isn't available right now, Mrs. Sullivan." Ryan said with a smirk, relishing the look of fear and concern registering on her face. He lowered the Russian-made weapon until the titanium blade rested on her skin. "Tell us where your valuables are, or I use this on your pretty face."

"Ohmygod, don't hurt me, please, don't, please..."

"Let's try this again." Through clenched teeth, he slapped her again, and flicked the blade to slice through her loose strands of hair. She screamed in horror and outrage, and Ryan could feel her blistering heartbeats underneath him.

"There, there's money, and, cash in the closet." She gulped. "Take it. In the study. My purse- has cash, it's on the chair. And-and-and jewelry, in the dresser..."

"Which closet? What dresser?" Val found the excuse she needed to chime in, crawling beside the woman and smacking her on the side of the head. "Give us fucking details, you fucking bitch. Now!!"

Clearly perturbed at the young female voice menacing her, beads of sweat began to form on Mrs. Sullivan's forehead, as she stammered through the particulars. The woman stuttered and blinked wildly when Ryan passed the knife to Val, who held the blade to her neck, while he shifted his body to rest on her stomach.

"- some, necklaces, third, no, fourth drawer... oh god, what are you doing? Stop it!" He seized her wrists and gripped them together with one hand, her slender wrists crossed together. "Owww, you're hurting me!"

"Quiet." He put a finger to his lips. "The more you struggle, the more painful it will be. Now hold still."

Mrs. Sullivan still tried to pull away, but it did not stop Ryan from binding her wrists with the grey cotton twines they brought with them. With expertise and efficiency, he pulled them above her head, and slithered forward on his knees against her prone body, until his loins were almost touching her chin. She gasped at the uninvited warmth and flinched away, but for the moment, Ryan was focused on looping the rope over the headboard. Fully aware of her unease, he took his time to fasten his dead knots, as she tensed up beneath him and squeezed her eyes shut.

The distracted Mrs. Sullivan did not notice rope was being circled around her ankles, until Val tugged hard on both sides, involuntarily spreading her legs far apart. Out of the corner of her eye, Carolyn realized the other end of the rope was already tied around the thick support leg of her solid oak bedframe. Her belated flails presented no challenge to the determined young woman, who produced the same quality knots as her partner, knots that were near impossible to untie by hand.

By the time both intruders climbed off of her, Mrs. Sullivan found herself sprawled out and tied to her own bed, in the shape of an inverted "Y". Pleased, Ryan and Valerie took their flashlights and passed the powerful beams over her, getting their first good, close-up look at the dark brunette.

Carolyn Sullivan was the socialite wife of Frank Jonathan Sullivan, Jr., the regional president of the petroleum giant PremiumEnergy. Twenty years his junior, the exceptionally lovely twenty-seven-year-old was the very definition of a trophy wife, but the former model could care less about the whispers, not when she was enjoying her life of luxury and opulence.

Freed to do as she wanted, Carolyn chose to be immersed in her social life. The young and energetic Mrs. Sullivan was seated on the committees of various charities and programs, occupying herself with endless meetings and events planning.

Part of her intoxication with sociality was her addiction to attention. Carolyn understood the power of her attractive figure, and did not think twice about using it to her advantage. The brunette was always turning heads with her expensive, tight blouses buttoned to show a good deal of her large bosoms, or skirts that hugged her shapely rear. While never afraid to show more skin, Carolyn was always in control of how far she wants to go.

Tonight, however, in the safety of her own home and bed, she was far, far from being in charge.

For starters, Carolyn was only dressed in her hot pink, satin night gown, with a laced trim that ended at the top of her thighs. Following the sight of her smooth, long legs, Ryan and Valerie could easily see the mound of her white, hip-hugging panties. With her generous tits being pulled up by her arms, her hardened nipples were well-visible through the lacy fabric. Though she always adorned her face with makeup and dark lipsticks in public, Ryan and Valerie liked what they saw, even without the extra cover.

"Just take what you want." She pleaded, sensing the attackers' growing focus on her. "And leave me alone." She added, an undisguised point of clarification.

"We WILL take what we want, Mrs. Sullivan." He reasserted himself, brushing his fingers lightly across her face. "But have you told us where ALL your valuables are? Where is your safe?"

"W-we d-don't have a safe." She replied, her eyes blinking furiously. "I-I told you where we keep our cash and jewelry. Please, just take them and leave me alone."

"Liar. You will pay for that." His gloved hand cut across her face, and he whipped down on her bare thighs for good measure. Val joined in the fray, taking aim with Mrs. Sullivan's bare soles with a rope doubling as a makeshift whip. The woman screamed at the top of her lungs, but that only earned her more hurt.

"Shut the fuck up!" Val hollered, while Ryan clamped down on her open mouth. Still choking up in sobs of pain and anger, their victim finally stopped screaming, but glared icy daggers at the man straddling her through her teary eyes.

"You're a lying cunt." He whispered lewdly in the woman's ear. "We're going to start with your safe in the spare bedroom." Her garbled cry and widened eyes begged to know, so Ryan continued.

"We convinced your lil' housekeeper to tell us where you keep the good shit. Tina didn't have the safe combos, but you saved us the trouble." Val stepped in with Mrs. Sullivan's phone, where the bright screen was displaying rows of her personal data, such as "Safe 1 - bedroom 3, closet, 88-06-21".

Mrs. Sullivan groaned behind Ryan's gloved hand.

"Don't blame Tina, she TRIED to hold out on us." He said, retrieving a handheld camera from his pocket. "We just changed her mind. Have a look."

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the mini-slideshow.

The images were that of Martina Tomic, the Sullivans' twenty-two-year-old live-in housekeeper from Croatia, taken in her own bedroom downstairs. The light-freckled blonde laid there, blindfolded, gagged and harshly hogtied - there was even rope tied around her muff. She was naked, saved for her panties that were shamefully rolled down to her thighs. From the close-up shots, an aghast Mrs. Sullivan could recognize a pair of her own dirty panties was stuffed in Tina's mouth. She was also taken aback at the overt red marks, mostly on her buttocks, on her otherwise pale skin.

"We spent some time with her."

Thirty minutes earlier, as Carolyn was sound asleep, Ryan and Val gained entry into the mansion by picking the lock to the garage side door. Once inside the spacious garage, they noted the absence of Mr. Sullivan's bronze-metallic Range Rover, among several other parked vehicles. They knew the European SUV was currently parked at the airport, and its owner was on an oversea flight to Dubai.

At the entrance into the home, Valerie defeated the alarm system with ease, determining the Sullivans' entry code in twenty-five seconds.

"Pathetic. The alarm interface was not even encrypted." She remarked, and Ryan could only shrug his broad shoulders in response. Having memorized the Sullivans' floor plan in advance, they made their way in near-complete darkness directly to Tina's quarters, a moderately-sized bedroom suite adjacent to the kitchen.

Unlike her mistress, Tina was a light sleeper, and was abruptly awaken by the sound of her door being opened. But Ryan and Val were not overly concerned, since they knew the Sullivans had extra soundproofing material installed for the housekeep's living space. Tina's startled scream was absorbed by the walls, and Ryan's lightning-fast tackle prevented her from reaching her phone.

Shaking in absolute dread at the sight of the two armed, masked intruders, Tina was nonetheless fiercely loyal to her employers. Even when threatened, she steadfastly refused to divulge the locations of the valuables in the house.

"Ne dun't know", the slender woman repeated over and over, in her distinct accent. Amused yet annoyed, the pair knew they had to turn up the heat on the stubborn housekeeper. Their real challenge was to do so without breaking their boss' first rule of engagement - "Business First", Cammy would always say.

The pair was convinced that Tina's independent data was a top priority, since they had no illusions that Mrs. Sullivan would accurately volunteer to surrender her own possessions. So they decided to mitigate the risks of a prolonged interrogation with two rules: twenty minutes max, and no sex - well, not for them, anyway.

In short, the unwitting blonde from Croatia just became their warm up act.

After Val tapped into the monitoring cameras in the home to ensure Mrs. Sullivan was not up and about, the pair got to work on Tina. First, they bound her hands behind her back and forced a big black ball gag between her teeth. They jabbed open a hole for her nose in her pillowcase, then tied it around her head. After slapping her around, Ryan lifted Tina off her feet with a bear hug from behind, allowing Val to slice off her top and pants, tossing the ruined matching pajama set on the floor.

With the housekeeper's pert breasts exposed, the two pairs of gloved hands descended eagerly on them, roughly tugging and grabbing her brown areola and nipples.

Still defiant but gasping in pain and rushed breathes now, Tina was dumped face down on her own mattress. While Val slipped out to "get extra supplies", Ryan carried on with the torment by pulling down her pale blue panties down to her knees, and delivered minutes of heavy spanking to her round bottom.

By the time Val returned with selected items from the hamper, Tina's ass was glowing crimson, but things were just getting started. He rolled Tina on to her back, clasped her ankles with his vice-like grip, and spread them apart like two levers, her bare soles facing the ceiling. Completely vulnerable, the young housekeeper squealed in alarm when Val proceeded to explore her pussy lips, gradually working her fingers up her tunnel.

Minutes later, Val's experienced fingers reappeared with a trail of crystalized slickness. With a wide grin on her face, she intensified the action, going down on the woman's bush and invading her with her tongue. Just as the housekeeper was shrieking from the forced sensations behind the rubber ball, Val stopped abruptly.

"Ready to talk, bitch?" She mused, a coil of rope in her hand. When the woman thrashed her head about, Val smiled - and whipped the wet, puffy pussy in front of her. Tina's soft pubic curls offered little in the way of protection, so her cries of protests instantly turned to screams of pain. Stifling her giggles, Val proceeded to rain down a dozen blows on Tina's bare pussy and tits.

When Tina tearfully pleaded for mercy in her broken English - instead of spilling the beans - the bubbly masked woman bent down to suckle on her sore nipples. She started out by rolling them between her teeth, but did not hesitate to leave bite marks, and continued until both nubs were rock hard.

Unfortunately for Tina, Val discovered more than worn panties in the laundry room. The housekeeper never saw the plastic clothespins coming, but she sure felt their bite when Val fastened both to her rose-coloured nipples.

That was more than enough agony and humiliation than the young woman can handle, who finally opened her vault of knowledge on the Sullivans, once they wedged free the saliva-laden ball from her mouth. Having served in their house for over a year now, she was able to recite all the locations of interest to the assailants, including those that were "private to Mr. Sullivan". When pressed for the combination to the safes, Tina tearfully confessed she had no such knowledge, but was quick to point out that Mrs. Sullivan "kept everything" on her phone.

The pair shared a quick fist bump on their success, but neither thought to show any leniency to the woman, whom they needed to secure while they move on to her sleeping mistress. Ryan began by using a pair of Tina's worn panties to wipe the excess juices from her pussy. Unable to let the opportunity pass, he sheepishly lowered his pants to stroke his massive hard-on with her soft cotton underwear, collecting a gob of pre-cum in the process. Balled up together with one of Mrs. Sullivan's panties, they forced the housekeeper to accept the make-shift gag. The reinforcement for Tina's new gag was a strip of her own pajama top, tied tightly around her head.

Tossed back on her stomach, Ryan clamp down on her ankles while Val brought the ropes on them. As he arched her bare legs back, the masked young woman rolled up Tina's blue panties, but only back to her thighs.

"Decoration." She explained, to which she received an enthusiastic thumbs-up from her partner. Val then drew a second twine through as tight as possible, until Tina's bound ankles and wrists were almost touching.

"Painful, bitch? Here, you'll LOVE this one." Val announced, producing a thick knot with the rope in her hand. With some forced maneuvering of Tina's body, Val was able to insert the knot past her wet pussy lips, stretch the rope tight against her clit, until the grey twine was buried in her crotch, and disappeared between her ass cheeks. Encouraged by the woman's renewed cries, Val fastened the rope around her waist for the perfect crotch tie.

"Fuckin' gorgeous." Valerie smiled to an affirming Ryan. The casual partners shared a long, passionate kiss, lengthy enough for him to sample residues of Tina's arousal from her lips.

"Save it for later, big boy. The hot one is waiting for us upstairs." She whispered softly in his ear, gently touching his excited member through his pants. With his eyes closed, he nodded in silence.

Before they left, Val whirled around the bed to snap pictures of the bound Tina with her pocket size point-and-shoot. Two shots in, she was having regrets about leaving her top-of-the-line Canon DSLR behind, but they knew the camera was too bulky for a simple home invasion. After all, the empty spaces in their duffel bags were reserved for the loot.

"Don't worry about Tina, Mrs. Sullivan. She will keep you company... while we help ourselves." Ryan turned off the camera, and strapped a thick sleeping blindfold over her eyes. After waving the sharp blade right in front of her eyes and received no reaction, the pair pulled off their masks and put them aside.