Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

Of Spies and Whores {darkest_fate&DeRe}

darkest_fate

machina erotica
Joined
Dec 17, 2009
Location
the INTERNET
Three months ago Marco Silva disappeared.

There had been no notifications, only a few last emails that gave away nothing, nothing save for the slightest hints at what he may be investigating. Macau, sex trade, dealings, much of it could be read between the lines, little of it outright said. The Agency had all but written him off; not helped by his status as an outsider, an ally, but not a direct member. Resources would not be diverted toward locating him, particularly as there had been no telling signs of foul play, no hints that detrimental organizations had been behind it. Perhaps, it had even been suggested, he'd given himself to the vices of the region, becoming part of the circulating debauchery that just flavored the area.

Mira knew better.

Mira, soon to be Silva, did happen to be part of the Agency. As per guidelines, she'd traded away much of her real life, of her identity, to the cause. As per guidelines, she'd been training in isolation, selected at a relatively young age and brought up within their tight regime. The girl had impressed, particularly after she'd found support in her fellow agent "Candy." Both were young, both were attractive (as nearly every agent was, for ease of many missions), and both had complimentary skills. In training missions they'd often been paired together, and it was through that contact that friendship had blossomed. It was also through that contact that Candy had learned of Mira's almost outdated pure relationship with outside contact Marco Silva. Just interrupting a kiss had caused the already reserved Mira to start stumbling and flushing, acting every inch the innocent virgin with her One True Love.

Their training had been interrupted, so close to completion. Superiors had insisted: ignore signals. Mira had complied... for a month. Then she'd started using her own skills, hacking, researching, convincing with sweet, pleading tones. Eventually she uncovered more information, information about Marco's last location, information about a business that traded flesh, information that ended in Macau.

now the pretty girl waited patiently in one of the lavish rooms of said business. Mira felt out of place. In many ways, she looked like a stolen European doll dropped amid the Oriental finery. A rounded face nearly radiated innocence, with wide blue eyes that sucked one in. Soft brown hair fell in delicate waves just past a pair of slender shoulders. Every bit of the girl looked petite, delicate, as if she would break with a strong bend. Often Mira could use that to her advantage: her easy flush, her averted eyes, they all played quite well into masculine fantasies of her. That several happened to dovetail nicely with the truth certainly helped.

But her lithe body possessed far more flexibility and strength than it would at first appear. Mira could all but bring her foot up behind her head, and she'd been nearly a gymnastics champion at one point. Bits of that were still betrayed, as she sat there in garb similar to her agent's training. Tight pants clung to a petite bubbled bottom. A black top compressed her already small chest further, making her seem practically illegal. All part of the appearance, naturally. Not quite as familiar was the lacy collar they'd insisted upon circling about her slender neck. A finger went up to trace it, wondering again. Something about a symbol of her status within the business? Mira knew that they still had orientation, though they'd passed initial inspection... meaning they were clean and physically appealing enough.

Next to Mira sat her companion. The lithe blonde matched and complimented her friend in several ways. Like Mira, Candy happened to be strikingly beautiful, trading the innocence for an almost commanding sex appeal that drew men and women alike to her. Piercing green eyes promised much, and her sun-kissed skin and golden hair made her seem ready for the runway (not that anyone would have denied Mira a spot either). Where the other girl looked doll like, fragile, breakable, Candy seemed almost like a lounging cat, all lean muscle packed into an outfit to match her companion's. Candy's breasts did push out her top a good deal more: she had at least a size, if not two, on her companion. Her ass had a hardness, but not quite the same rounded shape. Plus, there was the nearly foot height variance.

"Makes me wish they'd left us reading material," Candy mused, stretching out before looking around. They'd been told to sit and wait, that the boss would arrive for their "final inspection" when he could. It had already been a while, and while both were patient, their mission and their own eagerness did make them slightly twitchy. Both knew that was the point, but knowing something was happening didn't make it happen any less fiercely. "There's two exits and way above average security," the blonde continued, leaning back.

"Three," Mira corrected, her own eyes flicking. "Main door, door in back, and a vent."

"You could probably fit in there," Candy replied, "not sure I'd manage."

Mira wouldn't smiled or shrugged or teased, but instead she looked around. They may be watched, they knew it. There had to be cameras here somewhere.

"Wonder if they're waiting for us to make out," Candy mused, stretching again, actually rising to her feet. "Would at least give us something to do."

Again, Mira ignored her friend. They'd done that before, at least once on mission (they'd been assigned the "lesbian lover" cover at least once), and once when Mira had been excessively drunk and egged on by Marco (according to Candy, only Marco's chivalry had stopped the petite girl from losing her virginity in a truly heinous threeway). She'd grown used to Candy's ribbing, and it normally would relax. But normally she wasn't impatiently waiting to start looking for the love of her life.

"I'd say give them, what, ten more minutes? Then we make out like teenagers," Candy said. She looked about to continue, but a door opened, pulling both girls' attention to it. The mission truly began in moments, and they had to be prepared.
 
The slow glow of numerous computer monitors lit up Enison's face. It was a peculiar, even goblinoid visage, rendered even more unattractive by the sickly blue light. A pair of bright, bulging, unsettling eyes darted about like a rat racing across a filthy floor. They saw everything at once, processing it rapidly behind a lightly wrinkled brow. Indeed, an impartial observer would have seen him as something of a rodent; furtive and seedy, bent on ill-intent. His hands - stubby and blunt like clubs - worked with equal speed across a silent keyboard. All around a hiss of noise came from the various screens - idle chatter, sensuous sighs, bestial grunts - and from one a piercing shriek of terror.

Enison cast his dead-fish gaze over to that particular monitor. Dispassionately he watched as a young woman was put to death in a particularly horrible fashion. The gruesome spectacle reflected against his glasses. Only a slight twitch at the side of his thin lips betrayed the pleasure he felt at the sight. I imagine she regrets her poor decision now, he thought absently, like someone on a beach watching as a swimmer drowned. Enison waited until the grisly scene was completed, then turned away as if it had been some trivial entertainment that no long enthused him.

Instead, his attention focused on another view. Two stunning nubile girls were sitting in an anteroom, chatting absently to each other as if they were in a much more convivial setting. His aspect now took on more of the feline than murine, as he regarded the pair like trapped prey. This words barely registered; he was more interested in their stunning faces and impeccable figures. The content of their conversation was of little concern, for he knew the real reason why they were there. These two were not just slices of fresh meat, delivered to his brothel for the delight of the customers; they were a threat, infiltrating into a place so secret barely a handful of people in the world knew it existed.

When he was a child - something he could barely remember now - Enison had owned a cat; some spindly black thing that was more bone than animal. One day he had watched it torture a mouse to death, and found great pleasure at the sight. In time he began to catch mice purely to watch the beast destroy them, and found the thrill the same on each occasion. Eventually it has scratched him and he had throttled the thing in a moment of blind rage, but the delight he had taken from his cruelty remained with him forever. It had taught him a valuable lesson in how to make something suffer with the minimum of effort.

Leaning over a console, he softly pressed an intercom button. "Ms Wolf, it's Enison here. Our fine-limbed spiders have waltzed into the web. Would you be so kind as to meet me in the Scarlet Anteroom in a few moments? Thank you." The voice was soft, almost feminine, but with a nasal grate that gave it an almost subconsciously unpleasant edge. He then stood up and took a closely-tailored black Nehru jacket off a nearby hook, absently studying his reflection in a blank screen as he did so. There was a hint of vanity in his fastidiousness, as not even a hint of lint profaned his immaculate ensemble. Then with a peculiar, electric urgency he left the control room and proceeded through the winding, dimly-lit passages that surrounded it.

After wandering through the labyrinth he entered the anteroom abruptly, catching the girls in mid-conversation. A smile decorated his face, but his sparkling small eyes were utterly without warmth. "My apologies for keeping you waiting, ladies. You understand I am a busy man. No rest for the wicked, eh?" Clapping his hands together he rubbed them vigorously, like a tradesmen setting about his tools. "So, let's move the interview along quickly, shall we? Undress please, completely. You may leave your clothes on the table there. I do like to appraise the merchandise before settling on a deal."
 
How long did they intend to have them wait? Mira understood all too well why they were doing it, but understanding didn't make her immune to the effects of the prolonged wait. The pretty brunette's entire body felt like one tense muscle, as if constant electric shocks were being administered to keep her on edge. Even Candy's reassuring presence and occasional comment weren't keeping the brunette any less tense.

At last, a man arrived. Mira studied him carefully, trying not to let the speculation enter her wide blue eyes. No warmth reflected from him; he seemed, in fact, to almost bring a cold front in. The brunette spy couldn't help but shiver, and she swore she could feel her skin pimpling, her nipples tightening, simply by his presence. He called himself "the wicked," and perhaps it was only Mira's imagination applying what she knew onto him, but he seemed to reflect that all too well. Even his hand rubbing struck her as smarmy, and that wasn't even considering his request.

Despite herself, Mira felt a flush rising upon her pale cheeks. The pink showed all too vividly against her pale skin, not helped by the fact that she almost immediately reached a hand up to fidget with hair. Beside her, she could hear Candy shifting, hands already at work. "Of course," the blonde said, nodding, "as you say, sir."

Naturally Candy would be more comfortable with this. Mira could already see her blonde companion shucking her shirt, baring the impressive torso for inspection. In anticipation, Candy hadn't bothered with a bra. Her impressive, firm breasts stood at full attention, letting all note that her tanned skin encompassed her entirety. Even her dusky nipples seemed to have darkened slightly. It also showed the impressive physique, nearly matching an Olympic athlete, abdomen muscles rippling. The blonde's pink lips twisted into a wry smile. "My apologies if you were expecting some kind of performance. I figured we were all business," her eyes fluttered to Mira, who got the message.

She'd trained for this. Prepped. Could manage. Her trembling hands fumbled at her top, almost sliding against the fabric. Somehow she managed to get it up and over her head, showing off her own braless torso. Unlike Candy, however, the brunette had opted for a pair of nipple pasties, holding down her own pink nipples. Her slender body also didn't boast the impressive musculature of her friend, nor the expanse of tanned flesh. Flushing, Mira reached down to her pants, pulling them off almost roughly as if to get over it. Her sex remained all but hidden between her legs, with a little tuft of well trimmed fur pointing in its virginal direction. Flushing, the virgin spy shifted again, either having forgotten her pasties or not counted them.

During this, Candy had shucked her own pants. A light thatch of well trimmed blonde hair covered her own sex, but she had the sense to stand with legs spread, nodding and waiting for the next command from their new employer.
 
Only the faintest hint of a glimmer behind his piscine eyes betrayed Enison's emotion. He was long practiced in masking all feeling, but even a man of stone would not have been aroused at the stunning sight that stood before him. Watching as they undressed he took in every curve, every stretch of delicious exposed skin. He was something of an expert when it came to reading hidden intentions, particularly when it was written so vividly across the girl's beautiful faces. Despite their best attempts at obfuscation, their plans were abundantly clear to him, even without the foreknowledge he had. But he had no desire to extend his claws so soon; better to continue the game for a while yet.

The smug insouciance of the blond both irritated and excited him. He always preferred his women to possess a great deal of sexual self-confidence; they fooled themselves into thinking it was a kind of power. The very way she moved betrayed a sense of haughtiness, as if she was long accustomed to having men do anything she said, and being intoxicated by this sense of control. It was then all the more appealing for Enison to subsequently strip them of this self-delusion, exposing their glacial haughtiness to the harsh heat of domination and debasement. He reveled in the spectacle of her immaculate tan, daringly without any hint of paleness, revealing just how much she enjoyed flaunting her incredible figure. I'll pass this one onto the Triads, he thought; savouring like a fine wine the mental image of her in their hands. Those cruel gentlemen seemed to have a marked penchant for toned and tight Westerner blonds; although like careless children they had a habit of breaking their toys - which at least made them reliable and regular customers. Enison could never understand their custom of removing a slave's vocal chords though - where the pleasure in having a woman who could not beg, moan or scream?

The brunette was a different proposition. For someone who was supposedly an accomplished spy, she seemed curiously ill-at-ease in this situation. Surely such a divine creature was no stranger to passion? It was impossible that she could be so demure, almost virginal. She may have had the face of an angel, but below it was a body built for sin, and Enison struggled to accept that no man had taken the chance to despoil it. He would save the delights of this luscious creature for himself.

"Thank you ladies, most obliging." Enison reached over to a small classical nude statue standing on a nearby antique armoire. Seizing it firmly he gave it a twist, and suddenly an entire wall of the anteroom slid away with a smooth hiss. It revealed another room beyond; one half of which was set with a floor-to-ceiling mirror, and the other half holding a variety of booths and shelves. These were dripping with a chaotic panoply of silk and lace, holding virtually every kind of lingerie that existed. Bras, corsets, stockings, panties - all hung in abundance, comprising as many styles and materials as it was possible to have. "Please, free feel to chose any garments you prefer. Nothing here is below four figures in value. We have a premiere selection of Agent Provocateur, Victoria's Secret, and other elite items. Wear whatever you like, but choose quickly. We have your induction to attend to yet."
 
The appraising eye nearly made Mira shift. She had to continually remind herself of their goal, that she'd done this before, that she had companions, that they wouldn't let it get too far, anything, something to take her mind off the current situation of having a man so obviously used to appraising flesh eying hers like an auctioneer did a piece of meat. It felt almost like a betrayal of all that training, and that reminder put a little more steel into Mira's spine. She straightened slightly, let her blue eyes follow him, wondering what he was doing and what his plans were. They waited, somewhat patiently, for the man to finish his appraisal and turn and shift.

The impressive display of wealth and sexuality nearly sent Mira reeling. At least she'd seen something of the like before: their employer had a similar cache of impressive clothing for agents to pick from. The clothes they'd just shucked likely would've cost similar. But their employer's clothing had variety. What Mira beheld now was a pure panoply of sexually arousing clothing. Some of the bits of lace and silk didn't even quite look like they would cover much of anything.

The comment drew her attention back to her new "employer." She blinked as he offered her, offered them, the choice. The girl looked back to the dizzying display, wondering just how they might choose. Perhaps she could go for something lacy and white? Mira took a step forward, only to find Candy putting a restraining hand on her shoulder. Frowning, she looked over at her friend, only to see said friend looking toward Enison.

"Wouldn't you rather choose for us, sir?" Candy offered. "After all, you're clearly more expert than us at this, and I'd assume that you'd want to choose the finery to drape your newest acquisitions in." Mira wasn't sure why her partner was giving up the choice, and she nearly frowned. Instead she put on a smile, turning to Enison and nodding, more than willing to go along with the situation, even if she didn't quite understand the reasoning.
 
For a moment Enison was uncharacteristically taken back. Were these two toying with him? Something about Candy's insouciance was troubling him, ever so slightly. He had already begun to take a profound distaste to her. Mira appeared more obliging, yet clearly remained in the sway of her partner. What a pair of would-be spies these two make, he thought absently. But at that moment the main door opened once more, and a gravel-faced woman entered. She appeared to be almost the image of Ayn Rand; with cruel features and an ugly slate-coloured suit emphasizing a stern aged appearance. A fixed, knowing smile did little to alleviate her air of chilliness.

"Mr Enison is perhaps the wrong person to ask, girls," rasped the woman in a cold flat voice. "I'm afraid he is much more interested in removing your clothes than he is putting them on." As she sauntered over to the trio Enison forced his smile once more, almost bowing slightly as he spoke. "Thank you for joining us, Miss Wolf," he purred. "I defer to your insight on this subject." He stood back a little while she walked into the dressing room, immediately working through a number of select items.

Wolf spoke with the soft drawl of a jaded aesthete as she chose the garments. Looking over at Mira, her eyes raked the girl's body like the hands of a lover, then opened a drawer. Taking out the contents she displayed a lace bodysuit, silver silk cords woven into the Egyptian cotton stitching. The sheer fabric hid nothing, but a small cluster of diamonds over the nipples and crotch did at least obscure those areas. "I believe this will suit your chaste girlishness, my dear," she said as she gently threw the bundle over to Mira.

Turning to Candy, Wolf met the blonde's dazzling blue eyes with a steady gaze. "As for you dahling, we need something to advertise those spectacular legs. Our clients shall desire you to wrap them tight around their thrusting bodies with a burning passion." After a few moments of consideration, she pulled out a hanger from which hung a set of bra, panties and stockings. "Satin of course, nice and simple. No need to over-ornament such a divine figure; nothing worse than too much sauce on the meat." Her crooked smile twitched like a dying man's fingers as she passed it over to Candy. As their hands touched she held the contact for a few more moments, staring deep at the girl.

Enison noted the gaze and gave a soft chortle. If only you knew what this monstrous cow is thinking of, you uppity minx, he thought. Then, standing up straight, he spoke softly: "Please dress swiftly now, ladies. I would to begin your training as quickly as possible."
 
The new arrival almost made both spies jump. They were at least somewhat used to their surroundings and all, so the surprise found some mitigation in their alertness. In point of fact, both found it slightly more surprising to see a woman, almost a matronly one, approaching them. The wafting air could be felt by both females present, and Mira again barely managed to suppress a shudder.

Candy had enough presence of mind to nod to the new arrival, knowing to show at least some deference. The lithe blonde paid close attention to this "Miss Wolf," taking stock of the woman's traveling gaze and keen eye. Clearly Enison was only part of the whole picture here, and perhaps Wolf held as much, if not more, sway over the girls directly. Somewhat disappointing: women were on the whole much harder to seduce and sway with appealing bodies. After all, much of what the girls had, Wolf possessed as well... if not in quite the same... shape.

Again Mira found herself almost shivering as a gaze swept over her. She fought twin urges: one to raise her hands up and offer a better look, and one to attempt to cover her own quivering form. Both turned into stillness as the woman displayed what Mira did have to admit was a somewhat appealing garment. She caught the bundle and took careful note, fingering the fabric between nails. Her mind painted an almost too vivid picture of the fabric outlining her body as Marco laid her down, perhaps for the first time. The image made her pulse quicken slightly.

Meanwhile her partner nearly felt like she was having some sort of battle of wills. Blue eyes met the steady gaze, face showing nothing save a smirk at the compliment of her legs. Candy nodded, taking the offered garment with as much ceremony as she would a standard uniform. The contact made her pause, and she arched her brows subtly. "Yes, wouldn't want to ruin our flavor," she replied in kind ,before taking the garment. She ran her own fingers over it, noting the make and fabric. Her eyes slid to Mira, brow again quirking: they certainly did dress the petite brunette well, didn't they? The blonde wasted no time in already stepping into her own, sliding the panties up those long legs, adjusting the bra to cover her perky breasts. The stockings came last, rolled slowly, almost agonizingly, teasingly so, up those long gams, and carefully tucked in place.

Mira took a few moments simply to figure the outfit out, adjusting and looking for ways of getting it onto her body. Eventually she found a way of essentially stepping into the garment. It took a while longer, and some help from Candy, to wrestle the clinging fabric onto her frame. Even then, Mira had to wiggle and adjust to make certain diamonds obscured key points. The sensation of the fabric against her sensitive parts already made the girl flush, not helped by her own imaginings. She swore that bits of her trimmed fur were showing below, but perhaps that was part of the appeal?

"I believe we're ready?" Candy said, looking to both. She made sure to stand near Mira, clearly setting up the comparison. It didn't pass either spy's notice that they'd been dressed to compliment: Mira in white to Candy's black. Their personas were working, if nothing else.
 
"Let us proceed," said Enison, speaking as airily as if inviting someone to dinner, and not taking two lingerie-clad beauties into the bowels of the brothel. He opened the door to the antechamber and waved Wolf through, with the girls following on and them himself behind. The passage was bathed in scarlet, like blood turned into light. Heavy red drapes and a thick carpet seemed to swallow all sound and created a claustrophobic, hothouse atmosphere. It had the feel of some ancient labyrinth; but the beast at the center was far worse than any minotaur

The group entered a peculiar octagonal room, with all but one of the eight walls covered in gigantic mirrors. It was somewhat brighter here, with an exquisite chandelier hanging over a circular sofa that sat in the center. "This is the Panopticon," Wolf explained casually, like a bored tour guide. "Some of our clients prefer to watch instead of participate, and they can take their pleasure here." She reclined casually on the couch, tapping the lush ruby cushions next to her. "Sit down for a moment, ladies. This might serve as an interesting welcome to our establishment."

As she spoke Enison tapped a discreet wall panel, which slid away to reveal a series of dimly illuminated buttons. Two of them were glowing. "A quiet night tonight," he mused softly. Pressing one of the lights, a mirror slowly faded away into a window, as if a cloud of smoke had dispersed. It revealed a bleak stone dungeon, like something from the bowels of a crumbling castle. Various bondage items and sundry torture devices were spread about the small gloomy space. In the center, a young woman was strapped down on a table. Her raven hair was matted with sweat, spread like spider's legs across a beautiful face frozen in a rictus of agony. Vivid, neon blue eyes blazed with pain and terror while her bound hands were fixed like claws, fingers digging into nothing. A pair of ample breasts were crushed into the surface of the table, which was dotted with sharp studs. She was being savagely sodomized by a ogrish, bloated man with pasty flesh and a shock of orange hair. Despite the domino mask he wore - the only piece of clothing on him - there was no hiding his actual identity.

"Oh, this is that nosy little journalist you caught, Mr Enison?" inquired Wolf wryly. With his reptilian gaze fixed on the scene, Enison nodded slightly. "Mmhh yes, our wannabe Nellie Bly. When his Excellency" - he dripped the term sarcastically - "came looking for a new girl, I thought she would be ideal, especially given his well-known sentiments towards the Fourth Estate". A bitter chuckle escaped his narrow throat, like stones rattling in a can. "Ironic, no? He's doing the same to her as he is to his country." Wolf gave a sudden sharp laugh, and the pair of panderers grinned at each other. It was not friendliness, but rather the shared conviviality of two people neck deep in mutual sin. "You seem ladies," growled Wolf. "Curiosity did not kill the cat; but I imagine this cat wish it was killed."

Time to bat the mouse about a bit, thought Enison. "Let's see how our new stud is doing," he said. Pressing the first button again the savage dungeon scene returned to a mirror, then with a second click the pane next to it revealed a new scene. This room was decidedly more comfortable, decorated in a Louis Quatorze style that was almost florid in its excess. A well-known popular singer knelt naked, save for the white pumps her perfect ass rested upon. She was vigorously fellating a handsome Latin man half her age, whose fingers were locked in her blonde hair while her hands dug deep into his firm buttocks. This was Mira's Marco.

"Quite the stallion!" admired Wolf. "Oh, rather," said Enison in a tone like curdled milk. "They've been at it for some three hours now; despite draining our young Marco dry several times over he continues to take her to even greater heights of pleasure. It would appear madame has found quite the tonic for her recent heartbreak." Enison looked over at Mira, a sickly grin on his face. "You find him handsome, ladies? Perhaps we could commission him to help make your welcome more comfortable."

Wolf shot a steady gaze at Enison. "Enough of this, Mr Enison. I'm sure our new girls are positively dying to get started. Shall we get things underway?"

The sly-eyed goblin clicked the button once more, and again the scene faded from view. "Of course. I'm very keen to see how they will work out." Wolf reached into a coat pocket and produced a small spray bottle. "Please open your mouths now, girls. This is a little stimulant which will make what follows a lot more enjoyable."
 
Both girls paid attention to the rooms as they walked through. Likely they would have even if they hadn't been given extensive training to do precisely that. Mira's curiosity had by this point nearly hit a fever pitch. She kept fighting the urge to fidget, and her eyes kept darting around, almost like a prey animal trapped in a net. She certainly didn't relax as they entered the Panopticon. Both spies knew full well what that word entailed, and it didn't take much guesswork to estimate where they were.

Candy took the seat first, crossing her legs casually. She gestured for Mira to follow, and the brunette did so, albeit with considerably more reluctance. "Well, we're just starting, sir," Candy offered as Enison spoke of a quiet night, allowing herself another smile. A fading window drew their attention, and both recognized the pair within. Neither had quite the citizenship that would have made this personal, but they could at least recognize a truly terrible situation. Moreover, they understood all too well the implication: spies and those working undercover would be dealt with in house. It didn't take much imagination for Mira to substitute herself for the struggling beauty with the raven hair. Just picturing some sort of beast pumping away at her nearly made the girl panic. Her eyes dilated, her pulse raised, she felt her hands clenching and releasing. Training kicked in to squash, particularly as Enison and Wolf spoke.

"Always appreciate a good sense of irony," Candy replied coolly. The blonde likely understood the implications as well, but she either didn't care or had enough training to put it down. In point of fact, she didn't even react at the next scene either.

Mira, however, found herself on her feet. The reaction had been instant: a quick spring, her blue eyes locked. She didn't regain herself until she'd taken a step in, her fist closing. Wolf's admiration had her looking toward them, meeting Mira's look. 'Yes," she said, nodding and attempting to run her hands over her bodysuit, nearly catching herself in the fine mesh. "Yes, he's quite appealing. I would certainly love to spend time with him."

"If that's our clientele, then you can definitely sign me up, sir," Candy said, nodding and rising to her feet, eying Marco with obvious lust in those green eyes. She even ran her tongue over her lips, and for a moment, even Mira wasn't certain whether it was act or reality. "I'm all for starting," she said, nodding and turning.

They froze at the next, noting the bottle. Something to make it more enjoyable? Their hesitation lingered. Part of training did mean building up something of an immunity to most drugs. Every agent experienced illegals at some point during their missions, after all, and they were expected to show some competence in handling them. Mira had, in fact, been fairly good at handling everything during training. The previous scene had, however, shaken her up. Still, it was her mouth that opened first, Candy's following a few beats later.

"Spray away," the blonde said, adding a slight shrug. After all, she was eager to get on with it.
 
Enison started slightly as Mira jumped up. He had not expected such an open display of emotion. Candy's sangfroid was even more damning; she was clearly trying to play along. Are these spies, or schoolgirls, he mused. Even if he hadn't received forewarning of their infiltration, it wouldn't have taken wrong for him to discern their charade. As a veteran obfuscator he felt bemused by their apparent amateurishness. At least it made the game more appealing, Enison told himself, eyeing the pair with an arched eyebrow.

While the group had surveyed the two spectacles laid out before them, Wolf had been gently stroking Candy's thigh. She did so absently, with a delicate touch, almost as if it were an unconscious reflex. When the stunning blond had licked her lips and attested to a desire for Marco, the older woman's cruel mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "My dear, he is not a customer, but an employee. We cater to all tastes here, as long as they have the money to pay." The girl's apparent eagerness to start amused Wolf immensely. I trust she'll repent of that sentiment before long, she thought to herself with a languorous pleasure.

Both Enison and Wolf chuckled at the girl's eagerness to receive the mouth spray. "Such enthusiasm!" cooed Wolf, as she stood up to face them. "I've no doubt you will both be of great service to our organization." She shook the small white bottle vigorously as she spoke. "This is a specially engineered form of MDMA, rendered thrice as potent in aerosol form. We have the privilege of employing several highly capable chemists whose skill far surpasses anything in the commercial or medical world. It will greatly boost your tactile pleasure and sensory intake, as well as significantly increasing stamina." Wolf neglected to add that the compound contained a refined version of thiopental; the so-called 'truth serum' which made subjects more loquacious and uninhibited.

As Wolf sprayed the solution in the girls' mouths Enison pressed yet another button, which exposed a lushly appointed bedroom bathed in a rich scarlet glow. The mirror/window separating from the central room slid silently away. "Please make yourself comfortable now, ladies. Miss Wolf and I would be very interested to watch you with one another..."making out like teenagers", as it where." He deliberately reused the line Candy had spoken earlier. "Whomever brings the other to sexual climax first will receive a hefty bonus. The 'loser', so to speak, will be required to take further training with one of our...specialists." He trickled the last word out with some menace, implying there was more to it than that mundane term suggested.

Wolf reclined comfortably back into the couch as Enison sat down behind her. They made a peculiar pair, their gazes fixed on the girls. Wolf's eyes glowed as dark and primal as her namesake animal, her arousal at the current situation barely suppressed. Enison was more clinical, appraising things like a schoolboy methodically torturing a fly. Both maintained an air of curious anticipation, leaving the two girls in no doubt of what was expected of them.
 
Not a customer? The thought caused Mira to wonder, to pause. Had Marco been sent here as well? that would make considerably more sense. The complications of this entire mission just kept tangling themselves further and further, and Mira was regretting her decision to jump in here more and more with each passing moment. Her words, her actions, they likely betrayed her all too well. Hopefully their acceptance of the next portion of the procedures would allay some suspicion, at the least.

The drug sounded vaguely familiar, if somewhat worrying. Drugs of that kind were rather well known to cause side effects, and/or to become addicting. Just how much would that training deaden? The girls would no doubt find out, as their mouths were soon spritzed with the stuff. Both worked mouths while watching the latest show, seeing the new bedroom. Candy fully rose now, coming alongside Mira. It was clear that this was to be their stage, after all.

Specialists? The term had Mira's brow furrowing. She turned to look again, lips parting for a question. This apparently made her too appealing of a target: Candy cupped her face and drew her up. Before Mira could even fully process the last few syllables of the command, she found her friend's lips mashed against hers. The soft, sweet lips were at least vaguely familiar, and kissing had become a muscle memory even for Mira. The pretty brunette found her own lips moving in response, dancing against her taller blonde friend's. Her mouth opened willingly, soon finding another's tongue moving in, dancing about with her own. Mira's head spun as she felt her friend leaning forward, obviously taking the lead, the more dominant position, as likely everyone there had suspected.

It wasn't until Mira felt hands trailing along her body that she realized she should be more than receptive. Her own hands went to Candy's waist, feeling the slender bundle of muscles barely contained with soft flesh. Mira let her hands squeeze, fingers trailing along the edges, dancing back toward the spine. Candy giggled, pulling back slightly, taking a nip from Mira as she did.

"Getting frisky, are we?" Candy asked, before nipping again. What should have been a simple little bursting sensation felt like a firework going off on Mira's lip and tongue. It stunned the brunette, leaving her an easy target. Candy all but carried her toward the bed, and Mira found herself falling down. Tanned limbs wrapped about her own, and Mira recognized a pinning technique when she saw one. She let out a sharp noise of protest, arching, feeling her hips rolling and her body attempting to undulate. Apparently Candy had counted on that as well, moving in time, rubbing herself against Mira.

The brunette virgin could already feel her body bursting into flame. Heat poured through her, her blood heating and boiling with each passing second. Candy knew precisely where to touch, how to kiss, when to nibble. Plus the earlier scene had already lowered some of Mira's guard. The brunette sound found her hands pinned over her head, another traveling down her body. Feather light touches inflamed tender points, hovering at hips, at breast, teasing near her loins, making her hips cant upward.

Candy pulled off, leaving the brunette panting. Smiling, she looked back toward her new employers, her green eyes almost sparking. "Any requests?" she said, before pinching one of Mira's nipples through the fabric, making her friend yelp. "Poor Mira's a bit of a sub, I'm afraid, but if you wanted to see, say," she reached down ,looping one of Mira's legs up over a shoulder, "some flexibility?" Candy pushed, nearly bending Mira in half. The brunette shuddered as she felt her leg being brought near her head, pinned and writhing on the bed, knowing she had to do at least something soon...
 
In their shared, extensive experience Enison and Wolf had seen the girls in their service experience everything it was possible to be done to a woman. Both of them had watched beautiful courtesans pushed to the very limits of pleasure and pain, the screams of both mingling into the same sound on countless occasions. But when witnessing Candy and Mira fall into each others arms it was as if they were seeing such a sight for the first time. These veteran debauchees were both momentarily taken aback; on the one hand by Mira's sweet surrender, and on the other by Candy's forceful passions.

Their respective tastes were marked opposites of each other. For Enison's part, it was Mira who caught his eye the most. An ardent lover of corruption, he sought to practice it everywhere he turned. He could not see an unblemished sheet of paper without wanting to blot it. The despoliation was not enough; it had to be as degrading and destructive as possible. Nothing satisfied him more than taking a tender rose and crushing in it his fist, feeling the juices flow through his fingers and savouring the pungent smell that assailed his nose. Watching Mira being essentially forced by Candy turned his nerves electric, all the more so because she was being taken by someone who was nominally her friend. Already he was planning what would happen to her as the "loser" for this particular test.

Wolf's palette was decidedly more jaded, as befitted a woman whose sadism plunged the most chthonian depths. Since she had first entered the anteroom her cold eyes had been fixed utterly on Candy. In contrast to her colleague, she found the more demure and virginal sorts positively dull. While she was definitely in agreement regarding their ultimate destruction, for Wolf it was much more fun to inflict it upon a woman of confidence and sexual prowess. Being older and more unattractive than her prey, there was a certain element of jealous satisfaction to it as well. Something about the way a woman reveled in the power of her sexuality made Wolf want to destroy her; to make her realize she was nothing but the plaything of people with true power. Watching Candy toy with Mira both exhilarated and angered her. Already Wolf was fantasizing about tearing the smug smile from the blonde's beautiful face, and showing the lithe amazon her true place in the world.

Both of them were nonetheless enraptured at the sight of the two stunning girls writhing about together. They watched with fixed concentration, like a pair of snakes studying some mice that were invitingly within lunging range. Enison smiled wryly at their ready enthusiasm; they certainly are committed to their cover, he thought.

"Make her beg for it, darling," purred Wolf in response to Candy's query. "Push the luscious little thing as far as she can go. Clearly young Mira has a lot to learn." Arching a thick black eyebrow, she turned to Enison. "You think our Mr Diablo would like that one? He certainly has a way with the blushing maidens." Enison looked back with mild surprise; he had been hoping to ravish Mira himself, but the thought of handing her over to such a cruel creature as Diablo was just too exciting. "Assuming she continues to be so passive? It seems only fair." His wicked grin widened. "I imagine you would like to...reward Candy yourself?"
 
Mira felt her friend moving her body, contorting her, using the knowledge that friendship brought to reorganize her situation. The brunette could feel her legs bending back, felt the tension mounting. Already coils had wrapped themselves around her abdomen, and simple movement tightened them further, to almost unbearable levels. The gesture pumped heat into Mira, made her already heavy breaths catch, come a little quicker. She could hear purred instructions: make her beg. Just hearing those words had her whimpering, nearly drowning out the next bits, something about a Diablo.

Lips dove down to seize hers as the rewards and punishments floated about them. Mira groaned as she felt Candy literally drawing her up, dashing and moving her lips. The brunette had always liked kissing, always found it fun, engaging, and her blonde friend knew her preference. The feathering touches lighted all about her, hitting weak points with each pass. Mira shuddered, feeling nails tracing sides, fluttering over her abdomen, just gracing near her already aching nipples, before grabbing the back of her head. Fingers threaded through hair, emulating or demonstrating passion, pulling Mira closer. The brunette shuddered, rocking her hips.

A vague realization again penetrated: she had to do something. Obviously Mira couldn't demonstrate Candy's voracity, but the brunette knew that there were more ways of seduction than aggression. Her legs moved, slid slightly, hooking about Candy. She drew back, looking up at her friend with almost angelic eyes. "Please be gentle," she all but begged, her hands coming up to light on her friend's shoulders. "You know I haven't done this, ah," she paused, arching slightly, letting her body roll, feeling the tension, "very much," she bit her lip, looking up at her friend, eyes almost wet. "And you know just where to touch," her legs tightened, her hips rolling.

Candy felt her own pulse quicken, nearly frowning down at her friend. She'd all but taught Mira that the innocent virgin act, so close to reality, worked wonders on the right people. Seeing those wide blue eyes, hearing sweet begging coming from those lips, it would drive most people, almost any man, to the brink of eruption. Worse, it hit all of Candy's buttons at once. "You little minx," she said, seizing the hair and pulling slightly, hearing Mira gasp. "Play-acting the little sweet virgin," her hands went down, and Mira let out a yelp as she felt the fingers near her core.

"Wait, that's not fair! You can't--" she insisted, before feeling Candy's digits pressing against her barely clad sex. Mira yelped, hips jerking. "Stop! Hey, tell her to stop! That's not fair!" she shuddered, squirming more fiercely as she felt the finger sliding. Candy's finger rolled all about Mira's sex, and the brunette knew that her friend could find her little hidden button, tucked away and so difficult for most, within seconds. The fabric wasn't exactly stopping, and already the building friction had a wet "schlick" along with it. Mira's toes started to bend. "Tell her to stooooop!" she whined, hips rolling, jerking, as she felt the pressure starting to build.

"They never said no touching there," Candy insisted, leaning down. Looking across Mira, she looked to their instructors. Candy's own sex felt molten, the fabric at least hiding her arousal. It shone in those green eyes, an almost inverse reflection of Mira's blue that turned. The brunette bit her lip, the blonde took it for a nibble, before looking back. "It's time for her to cum, right?" Candy all but purred, her hands moving to work her friend's increasingly sloppy sex, liquid arousal pouring about the digits already.
 
Enison and Wolf watched on in rapture. They were connoisseurs, savoring one of the finest vintages ever poured out for their palate. The sapphic spectacle was certainly nothing new to them - but the passion and natural enthusiasm that Candy and Mira shared was something entirely different. A crackling energy danced between the two and electrified the onlookers. Only a pair of jaded panderers such as themselves could appreciate the true nuances of the girl's performance.

For his part, Enison could not decide what impressed him the most: the utter dedication to their mission these would-be spies were displaying; or their incredible natural talents for pleasure. As someone who enjoyed the thrill of anticipation, he wondered how long he could toy with both these beauties. Testing the nature of their relationship, and pushing the boundaries of their training, would become his personal project.

Wolf's wicked mind had already begun to rehearse the vicious things she was going to visit upon Candy's divine young body. The ease and confidence she displayed in pleasuring Mira excited Wolf far more than anything else. Something about Candy's sly self-assurance both exhilarated and infuriated the sadistic old lesbian. She wanted to break the blond piece by piece, tormenting her mind and body before she was brought to her knees begging for mercy. With an absent, airy grin Wolf contemplated taking this tigress and reducing her to a mewling kitten.

Mira's peril was writ equally large in the fervid mind that thumped behind Enison's reptilian brow. He would hand her over to the most vicious man in his employ, thinking of it like throwing a chaste Christian maiden into the claws of savagely pagan lion. Certainly the old rake knew there was no misery he could visit upon her than to take what she valued most highly, in the most nightmarish way possible. Watching that would be a particularly exquisite pleasure, and one he knew he could sell to a select audience.

When Candy look back and suddenly spoke, both Wolf and Enison were suddenly shifted from their reveries. Enison was prepared to let things intensify, but the simmering Wolf was able to keep a more focused head. "Don't you dare, bitch," she said smoothly but coldly to Candy. "No girl around here finishes without my permission, and things are just getting warmed up." Wolf rose slowly, her glacial gaze fixed hard on the girls. "Candy, clearly you are the more qualified applicant. Come with me now, I will finish your orientation personally". She clicked a dull red button on the chair console, revealing one more the gloomy passageway leading away. Turning to Enison, she purred "I'll dispatch our friend the devil, presently. Might was well strike while the pussy's hot, eh?" Her arched grin was like the toothless glare of a skull. Enison nodded slightly, unable to take his eyes from the writhing Mira. "Yes...yes, Ms Wolf, that would be most agreeable".
 
The two spies crackled with barely suppressed sexual energy. Both wanted release by this point, even as Mira's mind screamed denial at her. Both wanted to feel that cresting wave of pleasure crashing down over their trembling forms. Both wanted to achieve this together, to share in the pleasure that may very well be their last. But both also knew they had a mission. So when the order came to stop, both pulled apart from one another.

Mira found herself panting, white skin flushed pink. Her sex throbbed with her pulse, each breath, each heartbeat making her core flutter and pulse with need. The petite brunette knew herself to be only a few strokes from orgasm. Her own delicate fingers trembled mere inches above that molten core, the temptation to draw her heat out nearly overwhelming. Only dedication and training stopped Mira short of actually doing so to herself.

Candy, meanwhile, felt flushed with something besides pure arousal. She had impressed them: she didn't need just the stern taskmaster's voice to tell her that. This hardly surprised the blonde: she could play Mira's body better than her own, and she'd often excelled in matters of seduction. "Yes mistress," she said with a coy smile. Candy rose languidly up, her body almost liquid. Fingers popped between lips as she tasted her friend, cleaning her digits off. Her eyes flicked toward Mira: hopefully the brunette would have an easier time. "I'll see you later," she said, before blowing a kiss.

Mira watched her friend leaving, her heart sinking. The ache in her body had not diminished, however, and now she turned back to the man remaining. "Can I... fin--" she began, only to have her brow furrow as a word bubbled up from the earlier discussion. "Did you say something about 'the devil'?" What on Earth could that mean?
 
Wolf padded softly down the passage, as quiet as her namesake. She followed Candy in much the same manner, her cruel mouth practically salivating at the sight of the blonde's backside bouncing before her. Once again they wandered through the scarlet-light soaked hallways, the silence and snugness closing in almost like claustrophobia. Wolf tapped twice on a passing door, but continued to move on through the gloomy space.

"Just down the stairs here, my dear," she said suddenly, her voice as cold and smooth as marble. A short but steep stairway led down to a solid featureless steel door, and Wolf headed down first to push it open with a soft curse.

It opened into a small, low room that was like something from a Sadean nightmare - a cold stone cell bedecked with cruel-looking instruments and sputtering orange torches. Rusted cages, rows of chains, and a flaming brazier all gave the place a disturbingly medieval air. The temperature was stuffy to the point of insufferability, and both women began sweating steadily just from standing in there. The centrepiece of this dungeon was a large steel X, obviously designed for restraining someone.

"Now, Candy," Wolf said flatly. "Assume the position against the cross there." The grim-faced woman began unbuttoning her tight, slate-grey jacket.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Enison smiled to himself wryly. He felt like some bumbling schoolboy awkwardly shuffling with his first date. The delicious Mira stood before him, sweat-dappled and practically still panting from the treatment she had just received. Her eyelids were dilated, small black dots against her sparkling silver eyes. Inhaling slowly, Enison shuffled towards her while rubbing his silken pudgy hands. "Oh yes, Devil, of course," he chortled. "Well, what's in a name, my dear Mira?" He stood before her, inhaling the sweet tang of her aroused body. "Do you believe in the Devil, then?"

A side door hissed open like a coiled snake, and a granite-faced thug stepped into the room. He stood like something chiseled from black stone, a pair of battered black jeans the only covering beyond a spread of prison tattoos. Enison started slightly, inhaling sharply and standing straight, as if this man's presence has him immediately on edge. But his cool tone betrayed no alarm as he continued talking to Mira.

"This is your first customer, you lucky little trollop." His grin turned to a sneer as Diablo approached the girl. He was of even height to her, and met her stare with an icy sunken glare. Enison stepped back, easing himself carefully down onto the couch, fascinated by the pair before him. Talk about beauty and the beast, he thought with delight. Steadily his composure, Enison spoke casually to Diablo, as if chatting idly about nothing. "Ms Wolf warmed her up for you, so you can begin at your pleasure, Mr Diablo. Use you as you will, but as always, please refrain from any permanent damaging of the merchandise."

With that injunction, Diablo then seized Mira's throat swiftly in a iron grip, his arm springing to her slender neck like a cobra.
 
The dull ache of barely suppressed orgasm kept thudding inside Candy as she walked down the hall. Her scissoring legs kept just teasing her, as if keeping her continually prepped for the monster stalking her. The blonde could just see Wolf out of the corner of her eye, could always hear the woman all but clumping behind her. The question was whether to make a move now. They'd found Marco; they knew the place was shady. Should they just move? There was a better than average chance that Mira was going to lose her innocence in this dark place... then again, Candy's lips twisted into a wry smile, she was starting to doubt that Marco, if that really was him, would actually care.

Should have gone with the threesome fluttered through her mind. She heard Wolf's sudden command, and she nodded. The short stairs proved a little difficult to navigate, and the cold bit into Candy's exposed flesh. Her quick gaze took in the hellish landscape: some sort of BDSM dungeon, or just an outright dungeon, for that matter. The chill that had crept onto Candy's skin blazed away in the heat, and soon she could feel dots of sweat starting to bead upon her tanned flesh. Candy quickly looked toward the center, finding the "X" just as Wolf brought it to her attention.

The blonde hesitated for a moment. Take position... which direction to face? Was it a good move to even follow the order? If Candy let herself be bound, her chances of action decreased dramatically. Plus, given the buzz between her legs, she had little doubt what was soon to follow. No, they had to play along, at least a little while longer. Candy had surely already impressed; she could do so now.

The lithe blonde walked up to the "X." She extended her arms up, laying them against the binding. Candy paused, her chest facing the machine, her head tilting to look over the shoulder. "Did mistress wish to see my ass or my breasts?" she asked, knowing precisely how to refer to herself. Put her body in terms of meat; convince the woman you were going along... for now.


------------------------------------------------------

The Devil, and a sweet inhale. Mira shivered, resisting the urge to curl inward for protection. The lacy mesh barely offered covering, and with its crotch soaked with juice and spittle, not to mention clinging with sweat, it offered even less. The question had her eyes widening, and she bobbed her head quickly, the submissive role sliding over her almost too comfortably.

The man who entered barely fit that definition. Mira took in his impressive chest, quickly determining that the tattooed flesh contained far more muscle than fat. She thought she recognized at least two conflicting gang tattoos, which was enough to make the novice spy swallow nervously. Her tingling flesh grew cold, pimpling. Her chest started to rapidly rise and fall with fear. Had they been made? Was this man here to punish her for their actions? The showing of dear Marco had hinted as much but...

First. Customer.

The two words hung in Mira's ear. Her mouth dropped, head whirling to Enison. He meant for... for this thing to... all Mira's girlish dreams of losing her virginity: to a handsome man, to her skilled friend's lips and tongue, to someone wearing a ring, hell, to an older teacher, fluttered through her mind as the Devil approached her. Her eyes met his, seeing the lustful power. Her own nearly teared, and she quivered like a frightened rabbit..

"Please be--" she got out, before a rock hard hand seized her throat. The girl gurgled, hands going to the fingers. Instinct took over, and Mira very nearly twisted in a self-defense maneuver. She barely stopped herself, forcing her body to hold very, very still while she struggled to suck in what little air Diablo allowed.
 
There was a slow creak of leather as the tall vulpine figure grabbed at the quivering girl. As he choked off Mira's words, a throaty growl grew out of his sinewy neck and turned into something of a chuckle. 'Excellent," he purred, "I like it when they beg." The girl's terrified emotions played over her pretty doll-like face, giant eyes swelling in horror as they filled with his sight. As she tried to remain calm in his Diablo's grip, he could taste her sweat and fear like a dash of salt on his tongue.

His free hand cupped one of Mira's girlish breasts, kneading it like a ripe fruit and pinching painfully at the budding pink nipple. "Sweet little tits, smaller than I'd like though". He was appraising like her like a prize animal at market, or more appropriately perhaps like a butcher studying a prime slice of meat. Withdrawing his over hand from her throat, Diablo ran a skinny claw-like finger across Mira's inviting lips, slowly sliding it between them into her small wet mouth. "They're all mine now anyway," he said with a snarling chuckle.

Swiftly seizing Mira's slim hips he spun the girl around and shoved her forward, so that she was forced to lean on the bed and present her spectacular posterior to him. With equally quick and practiced moves he then kicked her ankles to either side, spreading Mira's smooth tanned legs apart as her heels rasped across the carpet. "Jesus Christo though, that fuckin' ass," he said with sleazy admiration. "It's like a perfect fuckin' melon and I'm gonna split it in half." One hand traced Mira's damp little slit through her costume, slowly opening the netting wide enough to reach it easily. Another drew a small sharp switchblade from his boot, clicking it open next to Mira's ear. "Gonna mark you first girl, so you never forget how Diablo broke you in". Gently he pressed the tip of the knife against one of her buttcheeks, pressing the razor point against her elastic skin.

Enison coughed with a pronounced amusement. "Senor Diablo, please don't damage the merchandise just yet. I promise you will be able to cut, brand and tattoo this filly soon enough, but for know please just use the weapon God gave you, and not your blade."

Diablo considered it for a moment, then clicked the knife back into his sheath. Replacing it in his boot he instead seized a fistful of Mira's soft brown hair, while slowly but forceful inserting two fingers into the soft velvet fold now exposed to him. "You all nice and wet for me, puta."
 
Beg, Mira heard the word growled like a tease, but she could hear the command lurking just under the surface. Her blue eyes grew wider as she saw him leering over her body. Everything within her screamed. Jerk. Run. Fight. Move. Faint. Do something. It took all her training to remain perfectly still, to just let the man continue to manhandle her in his harsh way. She could feel his paw grinding upon her chest. The sharp sensations made her gasp and tremble. God, he worked it like teasing a fruit.

Smaller than...? Mira found herself almost frowning. They couldn't even get someone who-- a finger teased her lips, and she found herself parting. Blue eyes looked up at him, the very picture of girlish innocence, while her soft pink lips closed about the finger. She found herself sucking for just a moment, tasting his foulness upon her tongue. Another urge: this one to vomit, roared up inside her. Mira fought back the gag, remaining still, remaining in position---

---well, until he spun her. Mira gasped as she hit the bed, arms splaying to try and catch herself. "Please!" she tried sputtering, fighting tears... of frustration? Of Fear? She didn't know which, perhaps both, they warred within her. Smooth, well formed legs parted, stretching the transparent white material across and over her. The plump rear jutted upward toward him, as if offering itself up for the first course. Apparently it pleased Diablo, if his tone were any indication.

"Ahaaa," whimpered Mira as his hand worked her slit. Her cheeks burned, and she found herself squirming. She could do this. She had to--to save Marco... even if, even if he didn't seem to really want--

A tip and she gasped, head snapping to look back. Brown locks flew, covering her face for a moment. She clawed them out of the way, lurching up. Surely he wouldn't be harming the merchandise? "You're joking!?" she couldn't help but gasp, gaze flicking toward Enison. It might be, or perhaps--

--another jerk, cutting off thought. Mira couldn't suppress the yelp, hands flying toward her hair in the moment. She barely had time to process the tug, however, when something worse happened. Another girlish cry, following by a whimper, as her folds felt something sliding within. Tight velvet crushed the fingers, as well toned muscles fought bravely against the invasion. But previous moisture still clung, still made her sex blaze with leftover heat. Her eyes looked back at him, wondering if she should play along or confess the truth. Which did this monster want? Her lips moved, but words weren't forming, simply sounds, almost animistic in nature.
 
Enison eased himself back further into his seat, forced to adjust his posture as his cock began to respond to the scene in front of him. It wasn't exactly the sight of Diablo manhandling Mira, abusing her perfect body like a plaything, that had engorged him. Rather, it was the soft urgency of her pleas; the way she was clearly panicked and confused. So much for the elite spy, Enison considered wryly. Instead she was just another terrified girl about to lose it all to the cruelest man in the world. Was it really this easy to break such a creature, he thought. Idly he found himself wondering how much of a fight the blonde would put up, and imaginingg what ordeals she'd endure at Wolf's skilled hands.

Diablo studied Mira's figure as it squirmed before him. Her honed and gym-toned young body would have been a utter delight to even the coldest of fishes. There was little but his own stalwart resolve stopping him from tearing the girl apart right there. But with the measured patience of the predator Diablo preferred to stretch it out a little. There was also something of the showman in his actions - amusing Enison and tormenting Mira. Especially the latter; the veteran sadist was like a master musician which such a fine instrument in his hands.

Moving with mechanistic ease the leathery thug released her and swiftly pulled off his belt, gripping the demonic steel buckle and looping the thick strap through his fist. The battered trousers remained upright nonetheless, perhaps suspended by decades of blood, sweat and other assorted fluids. After giving one of Mira's exquisite buttcheeks an appraising squeeze, he then landed the belt with a loud smack across the firm mound. It quivered violently, barely recovering before a second blow landed on the opposite cheek. The satisfying smack of leather on flesh sounded louder and sharper in the confines of the bedchamber.

"Not too much energy there, old friend," said Enison wryly. While on any other occasion she would have happily seen Mira flogged senseless, in this particular moment he had other things in mind. Besides, he admitted to himself, he wanted to save her true suffering for his own hands. "A bruised fruit doesn't taste quite so sweet. Spare the poor girl the agony of expectation and give her the good hard fuck she's dreamed of for so long." There was a sneer in his words like a whiff of sulphur in the spicy air.

Diablo cast the belt aside and finally dropped his trousers, exposing a pair of trunk-like legs and a formidable member that was nearly equal in size and length. Even the jaded Enison found himself suddenly swallowing almost a gulp of amazement. The angled mirrors surrounding the bed certainly gave Mira a clear sight of what was to be her first cock. Diablo spat on one hand and stroked the eager member, now raging red and erect in excitement, then firmly seized one of her slim hips. With the other he once again gripped Mira's scented locks, using it as leverage while holding her side. Then he slowly began to penetrate the inviting pink slit that glistened before him, sliding in slowly but firmly like a knife cutting the firmest peach.
 
Keep still, keep very, very still. Mira's trained mind kept instructing her, like a silent helper through what stressed her greatly. Outside, she still looked the mess, nearly sobbing, jerking, but inwardly, at least, she regained some of her composure. It wasn't quite an act: she was still very much a frightened young woman who knew full well that she was about to have her first time be with a monster, but Mira also played it up, leaned into their expectations, let them see what they wanted to see.

That Diablo continued his harsh work made it all the easier. Mira let out a yelp, genuine tears welling up within her blue eyes. Training said to relax, or to tense and attack. A twist, a lunge, a hold, and she could snap his neck or flip him over. So easy, even in this position; if she truly wanted. but instead she had to simply sit there and bear it as he tanned her hide. Red blossomed against her peach flesh, standing out and welting. It burned, seeping throughout the rounded bottom and delving into her core, fueling the fires that they'd so purposefully had her friend stoke before.

At first relief flooded her at Enison's insistence, except that her mind informed her of precisely what would come next. No beating meant... meant...

yes, there went the trousers. Mira closed her eyes, drew a shuddering breath, fought to maintain her steady heartbeat. She opened them, looking toward a set of legs, each seeming as big as her waist. One, two... three? No, wait, her brow furrowed for a moment, certain her eyes had played tricks. Three legs? no one---

No, no that couldn't be? Mira's eyes widened with the realization, acting evaporating. "Is that real?" blurted out before she could stop it. Her head whipped, hair almost thrashing herself as she twisted. The mirrors could have been playing a trick, right? surely... no, no, she felt it. Felt the swollen head rubbing against her tight lips. Her body tensed, everything drawing inward and upward, curling toward her. She tried to pull back, to curl up, only to find a hand pulling her head back. Mira let out a shriek, throwing a little more of her terror into it than she would've had she not at least been trying to play things up. She curled, felt him sliding in. Flesh tore below, but wet seeped outward. Previous arousal, terror? She didn't know, but her body spread and started to bloom for him, or perhaps was at least wrenched open.

Relax, relax, relax, she had to... had to... relax...
 
Back
Top Bottom