The Missionary Position

I could not help but notice that my new interrogator, Natasha, was an attractive woman. She had short, platinum blonde hair. Her attire was seductive. Tight latex pants hugged her round ass. Her low-cut, tight-fitting latex top revealed ample cleavage. She was fairly petite. But my helpless position in her presence filled me with dread.

She motioned for my guards to lead me away. They took me down the same hallway that Chris had travelled. But I could not see any sign of her. I started to wonder what was happening to her at that moment. But the thought was so depressing that I worked to put it out of my mind.

I was led into a large space. My heart sank when I saw where I was. Looking around, I could see countless instruments and devices that I realized were used in BDSM activities. Natasha entered behind us. I was still being held by the guards, with my wrists cuffed behind me. Natasha slowly ambled in front of me. I gasped as she roughly grabbed my cock in her hand.

"First of all, we have to cover the ground rules," she began. "For starters, you are only allowed to speak when spoken to. Is that clear?" I only nodded. Twisting my cock in her hand, she snapped, "Is that clear?"

Howling, I muttered, "Yes."

"Secondly," she continued, "if you are allowed to speak, you are to address me only as 'Mistress.' Is that clear?"

"Yes," I replied.

Again there was a hard twist of her hand. "What did you say," she demanded?

Through heavy breathing, I managed, "Yes, mistress."

"Finally," she went on, "this cock may be attached to you. But it is my property. I can do with it as I please." To demonstrate her mastery over me, she proceeded to alternately stroke, caress, slap, poke and massage my penis. "Do you understand?"

It was exceedingly embarrassing but her actions were beginning to arouse me. And it would be impossible for me to hide that fact. Fortunately, she released me before things went too far.

The guards led me to a far wall where two wooden boards were shaped in an "X." In each corner were round hooks. The guards uncuffed my wrists behind my back. They then placed leather restraints on them and attached them to the upper hooks on the "X." They then placed similar restraints on my ankles and attached them to the lower rungs on the "X," leaving me spreadeagled and exposed. I was terrified. She could do anything whatever she wanted to with me. And I was helpless. As she slowly approached, I blurted out, "Please just tell me what it is you want to hear. I will tell you. I will tell you whatever you want to know. But just please let us go. We have not done anything."

Natasha only smiled. Lightly fondling my penis, she explained, "Honey, I am afraid that it does not work that way. If you just repeat back what I tell you to say, then that is not a real confession. You see that, don't you?" When I did not answer, she roughly twisted my cock. "Don't you see that," she demanded.

"Yes, mistress," I dutifully replied.

"Since you will not confess, here is what is going to happen. First of all, as to the pretty young thing you brought with you." Again, Natasha was lightly fondling me. "She will be enlisted as a sex slave in the service of our intelligence bureau. Frequently, information is most easily obtained in that manner." Hearing that filled me with rage. But I could now do nothing to help Chris. I could not even help myself. And Natasha knew perfectly well what affect that knowledge would have on me.

She went on with, "As for you, you now belong to me. And, you see, I rather hope you continue to defy us. You see, the longer you refuse to confess, the more fun I can have with you. And, I assure you, I am a woman who truly loves her work." Picking up a nearby small whip, she explained, "Now, as I hold your cock in one hand, I will snap the whip against you. You will thank your mistress and beg me to do it again. Is that clear?"

Whimpering, I answered, "Yes mistress."

I flinched as the whip snapped against my penis. But restrained, I could find no relief there.

Still whimpering, I mumbled, "Thank you mistress. Please do it again,."

Again, the whip snapped against me and again I instinctively recoiled.

"Thank you mistress. Please do it again," I moaned.

She repeated the process again and again and again. She truly did love her work. I only obtained relief when another guard came to the door. Motioning to Natasha, he held a short conversation with her. Returning to me, she explained, "We will have to put the rest of our initial session here on hold. As I informed you, your friend is going to be used by our authorities as a sex slave. It seems that in their initial discussion it was revealed that she is a virgin. Before we send her on a mission, it has been decided that she needs at least one sexual experience. She was given the choice of having sex with our commanding officer or with you. She chose you."

Natasha motioned to the guards to release my restraints. You will need to go ahead and get ready for this encounter. We have someone from a visiting delegation already in mind for her. So we need to get this done fairly quickly."

I had become so numb to what was happening that it really did not initially dawn on me what I was being told. Only slowly did the realization come to me that they were expecting me to be sexually intimate with the young lady that I was supposed to be introducing to the field of missionary work.