The van sped along the secluded county road, hitting the occasional pothole.
"Did Luka set the meet in the middle of nowhere, Boss?"
"Shut up and drive," Danny replied. Luka Litvachenko, head of the Croatian mafia, was a man as dangerous as he was careful. It didn't surprise Danny that Luka had selected the location he had to conduct business. Yet for all Luka's paranoia and brutality, Danny trusted the man. They had a history together. When Sanjay had embezzled from him and tried to out him to the Feds, it was Luka who had helped Danny craft a new fake identity.
"All right, turn right at the next intersection." Danny's gaze slid toward Pooja and Elena. Both gagged women looked miserable, strapped into their seats while Kip sat contentedly between them, cupping their breasts like they were part of an interactive museum exhibit. At one point, inspired to apparently 'make the younger cunt look even sexier,' Kip gathered up Elena's hair and tied it up into a ponytail using a rubber band.
"There, now you look even prettier," he observed. "What's wrong, sluts? Why the long faces?" He switched from breast-fondling to something more intense now. Slipping one hand between each woman's legs, he began to finger their pussies. Each woman closed their eyes, stiffening, and tried not to give their tormentor the satisfaction of a response.
But Danny had had enough of letting Kip hold a monopoly on tormenting their unwilling guests...
"You two cunts are looking bored. Let's find you some entertainment," Danny said, letting curiosity get the best of him. He wondered what his sadistic audience on the dark web was 'voting on,' what sex acts Swathi and Sanjay were being forced to do even now. Retrieving the laptop from Kip's bag, he used the hotspot to get online and pulled up the website. He turned the computer on his lap toward them and leaned over so he too could get a decent view.
"Let's see what our lovebirds are up to, shall we?" he said, nudging both women to open their eyes before giving Pooja and Elena a meaningful look. To their credit, the two women didn't look away. Perhaps they sensed that their captor wouldn't have tolerated it.
For the next hour and a half Danny, Kip, and the two captives were treated to a montage of scenes from Swathi and Sanjay's forced live porn stream:
Swathi is kneeling, facing the bed with her wrists cuffed to the headboard. Sanjay kneels behind her, the tip of his drug-fueled boner pressed against Swathi's anus. Sanjay frantically drops another glob of spit onto the tip of his cock, wiping it on the crown before re-positioning it at Swathi's wrinkled opening.
"Hurry up! You heard the audience. They want you ass-fucking your sweet wife while you keep up the wax-dripping. No slacking off!" Tommy's menacing voice sounds in the background. Sanjay meanwhile has a lit candle in one hand. Hovering it over his wife's elegant back, he is dripping bits of hot red wax, spattering it along Swathi's beautiful figure.
"UHHHH!" Swathi groans deeply as another glob of wax lands on a patch of once unblemished skin. At the same time, Sanjay is desperately trying to get enough saliva in Swathi's asshole and sheened along his own cock to do what the crowd demands.
"Please, if you would just let me use proper lube..." Sanjay protests.
Tommy's cattle prod comes into view now with a menacing crackle. "The crowd voted, dumbass, and they made their desires clear: no lube except your own spit as you ass-fuck your bitch wife. Get BUSY or you'll feel the prod."
When Sanjay still seems to be struggling to get his shaft fully inserted, a sudden stab of the prod and a crackle makes Sanjay and Swathi cry out in unison.
"Please Sanjay, hurry, get it in!" Swathi screeches. Finally, mercifully, Sanjay's cock sinks into the gorgeous Indian woman's tight asshole. She groans at the fullness, head bowed and teeth clenched, while Sanjay begins pumping his hard shaft into his wife's bottom. All the while, fresh spatters of wax lace Swathi's back, adding another flavor of sensation to the oddly erotic yet agonizing display.
The couple's combined groaning fills the bedroom as the video shows a perfect angle of Sanjay's throbbing, vein-engorged cock splitting those smooth ass cheeks again and again with short, stabbing plunges.
"Oh god," Swathi groans. "Slowly, jaanu... oh my love, please be gentle." With one hand wrapped in his wife's long raiment of silky black hair, Sanjay seems to surrender to the scourge of his own lust, yanking his wife's head upright while he ass-fucks her, his cock sheathed in that impossibly tight opening even as he dribbles more of the red wax along her shoulder blades.
His demeanor now screams 'We have to give them a show, honey, or they might make us do even worse things,' and it's reflected in his desperate gaze as he looks down and watches his wife's beautiful ass take a punishment it doesn't deserve.
A SHORT TIME LATER...
Fifteen minutes have passed, and now they are on to the next of the dark web spectators' vicious requests.
A tall, muscular Slovakian named Ivan stands admiring his handiwork: he has just finished piercing Sanjay's nipples, which now each sport a tiny golden hoop as decoration. Tommy's voice intrudes again:
"Your husband looks prettier now, bitch, but according to our audience now you and he need to thank the artist."
