TASKFORCE

TASKFORCE

Part Ten

Chapter Twenty-Nine        

        Leaving Ariel’s mom in the clutches of the Dom, he’s returned to his surveillance.  Sitting in the van, headlights off while slowly rolling to a stop across the street from the sparsely filled parking lot, he can’t help thinking to himself how arrogant that fucking old pervert is with all the shit going on as he parks the Mercedes out in the darker corner of the terminal’s lot.  Watching as Althea’s folks appear alone as they step out of their sedan, almost casually walking together across the terminal’s dimly lit lot, he sits back and watches them make their way toward the train station’s concourse, his mind still drifts back to the past night.  A slight drizzle on the windshield of the white van, he leaves the radio barely turned up as he thinks of his long evening with the Dom.

       Lighting his cigarette, recalling how he spread her out and worked her tits with that flat leather strap, used her own small version of a riding crop between her spread legs then fucked her like she was in heat as her naked body was drenched in sweat.  Thinking of her totally submitting to him for hours on end last night, he takes a long, slow draw on his Marlboro, his dick getting hard just thinking about it.  Fuck, he’s going to break her from being a dyke yet.

       The rain picking up, the pattern on the roof of the truck nearly drowns out the radio as he relaxes, his thoughts drifting back and forth.  Another slow, long drag on the cigarette, he doesn’t really care about the music as he again thinks of her naked body spread out in front of him, how he had the tears welling in her eyes, had her mumbling, biting her lip not to shout out her safe word as he left welts crisscrossing her butt cheeks along with that rack of hers.  Goddamn, he wonders if she realizes how much he restrained himself, especially with the clamps on her tits and clit.  Fuck, he probably could have tightened them another half turn, and the weights weren’t that heavy, at first anyway.

       Cranking down the window a couple inches, starting to flip the butt out, dropping it in his half empty warm Pepsi can instead, he glances down toward the file in the manila envelope, at the perverse information involving both fucking brothers.  His mind back on his business at hand, shaking his head he feels there’s a strong possibility this couple just might not make it home tonight. Glancing around the nearly vacant lot across the street, thinking at how simple it is for him to stalk them, fuck, he has the perfect cover if anything even remotely goes wrong.  If he’s seen, he’s just making sure the bastards are safe from that fucking den of abductors decimating their families.  If nothing goes wrong, and it won’t, well then, they won’t be around to complain anyway, will they?  One thing’s for sure as he picks up the folder from the car seat, glances at the information from Interpol once again, those two fucking sick brothers are into a lot more dirt then fucking old folks out of their live savings.

       Glancing over the confidential files for a couple minutes from the international law enforcement organization he’s belonged to for more years then he cares to fucking remember, he slowly shakes his head as he finishes yet another cigarette, stuffs it in the Pepsi can while still lit.  Another shove of the lighter, still holding it in as it heats up in the dash, he flips through the rap sheets for the third, forth time.  The motherfuckers gave him a bad feeling the first time he saw their mug shots, now he knows why.  The lighter springing back, a quick puff or two and he’s on his way to finishing his second pack for the day.

       Leaning back in the driver’s seat as the windshield fogs around its edges an occasional drip of water splashes in on him through the lowered door window.  Keeping his eye on the Mercedes across the street in the darkening parking lot, and more importantly the security cameras no doubt still functional up on the poles, he lets the smoke roll out the crack in the window.  The fuckers are safe from him here.  Another few minutes, another butt stuffed in the can, he sees the pair walking back toward their car, but now with a third person.

       Glancing quickly inside the folder again without really needing too, back toward the trio, he realizes he’s hit the jackpot, his fugitive’s with the couple, his family, the three of them all together, alone.  Watching them almost casually getting into their Mercedes, letting them drive off the lot, he follows while allowing plenty of room.  The excitement of the chase escalating with the feeling deep inside realizing what the outcomes heading toward, he feels the adrenaline pumping as he follows the taillights out of the area, into the darkness.  Police radio on his lap, a simple signal thirty and he could have plenty of uniforms converge for the bust.  Then again, fuck that, maybe he can get them to resist out in the dark, alone.  Shaking his head, leaning forward toward the steering wheel, who the fuck he kidding, he ain’t giving the motherfuckers time to resist.

Following the Mercedes into the darkness, thinking about the contents of the folder, he settles on his better idea, his way of dealing with scum like this, like he was going to do with just the couple anyway when he got the chance.  Slipping open his briefcase on the passenger seat, grabbing the throw- down that’s stuffed inside a clear plastic sandwich bag, he’s as good as made up his mind.  The bastard’s aint going to be a part of a fucking child porn ring anymore, the slimy bastards.  Reading the reports in the file, suspected, even charged, but never convicted, the few witnesses disappearing or having loses of memories, they’ve been abusing kids for years in their homeland, and probably over here, the fucking pedophiles.  Now, how poetic, he thinks, considering the circumstances of the females in their personal lives now.

The road winding into the countryside for the next few miles, glad the assholes picked the middle of the night so they’d be inconspicuous, he grins at his luck, feels actually kind of serene, just as he always does when the time draws close.  Dark, drizzly, isolated, he sets the blue light on the dash, turns it on as he pulls beside them while leaning across the seat and cranking the window down.  Flashing his shield out the passenger side, now it’s up to God.  They try to run, he’ll just stay behind them, get on the radio and they’ll be apprehended for sure.  If they stop, he slips his hand across the baggy, feels the handle of the .357 loaded with low grain hollow-points as he grips it in his palm.

A few seconds, seeming like minutes, he can recognize the face of the driver staring back toward him, then toward the winding dark road, back toward him.  A look of frustration, even anger, just like the night of the missing reports, and the driver’s even using obvious choice words as his hands slap at the steering wheel.  Again flashing the shield, slipping its chain over his head, around his neck, he can’t believe it as their dark sedan slows down, pulls over.  The rain a little steadier, pulling up beside the Mercedes, the van’s  passenger window all the way down as he slows to a stop, the van still on the roadway, he watches the driver’s glass lower beside him.  Seeing the asshole leaning across in the back seat, the slightest of a reflection as his hand raises, its reaction time.  Two!… Two!… One and one, the six discharges in less then a second and a half are deafening in the hollow cube of the van.

Goddamn!  Motherfucker!  His head pounds as he jumps from the van, his ears ringing from the six quick flashes of the revolver’s lethal barrel.  Reaching inside the driver’s door as he almost instantly surveys the results of the confrontation, the woman hysterical across the front seat, screaming, her arms covering her head as she leans forward, he thinks, what a fucking pattern, proud as hell as the blank eyes of both men stare into space. Glancing from one asshole to the other, just like the target range, two into the first, two into the second, one into the first, the last into the second, fucking right you cocksuckers!  Quickly reaching his hand in, hitting the door lock on the driver’s door, running around the front of the car, his ears still ringing, he drags the nearly hysterical woman from the Mercedes as he rips the top buttons of her blouse while harshly patting her down as she struggles, kicks.  Seeing the gun laying on the back set, inches from the upturned hand no longer in the position to hold it, he smiles, no wonder they fucking stopped!

Slapping cuffs on her wrists behind her back, throwing her in the side door of the van, a leg cuff already bolted to the floor quickly shackling her ankle, he pushes her onto the spread out sheets of canvas lying across the floor.  Checking the Mercedes a second time, the close patterns of the trio of mushrooming hollow-points in each bastard obviously did their jobs.  Hopping inside the van, listening to her shrieks, he thinks for a moment as he grabs his police radio.  Justifiable, the cocksucker’s got a gun on the backseat and he’s a fucking fugitive on top of it all!  Fuck, could be in line for a couple medals even!

Glancing back toward her laying, kicking on her side, his ears still ringing, he quickly glances back toward the Mercedes.   Also glancing back through the rear view mirror, noticing her ripped blouse; slipping a Marlboro from his shirt pocket, he takes a deep breath, hits the lighter again.  Playing with the police radio for a moment, finally laying it back down across the seat, he tries to make a quick decision to himself as he also glances back toward the devastation he left in the Mercedes on the side of the still isolated road.  Goddamned, he thinks, another quick glance in the mirror, her fucking tits must be at least D’s!  Slipping the van into drive, he glances one more time into the chaos of the idling Mercedes, shakes his head.  Making his decision as he drives away, he bets himself they’re double D’s.

Chapter Thirty

Being led down through the hallway to the chambers below the mansion, the various rooms the Dominatrix had a hand in designing herself; he can’t help thinking of just the single concrete pit he threw together in the sub-basement of the old warehouse, what a fucking contrast.  Choosing the largest room toward the end of the hall, actually separated by double mahogany doors from the rest and just at the foot of a staircase leading to the great room in the mansion above, glancing around it as he enters the already open entrance, he hesitates as he’s struck by its meticulous  appearance.

       Glancing back toward her in her revealing white flowing, sensuous dress highlighting her tanned body, he senses just a hint of a smile crossing her face as she nods, barely whispers.  “A painstaking restoration of the set from the French movie, Histoire d’O, with the actress Corrine Clery. 

Glancing back, he’s instantly attracted toward the room’s raised centerpiece.  A set of slender, elegant twin marble pillars mounted with gold brackets dominate the room from the subtle platform raising in front of flower illustrated coves molded into the arched walls that’s also lined with similar marble pillars obviously designed for ambiance and structural support.  Realizing the exquisitely detailed chamber does seem out of a movie set, its lavish turquoise and cream paint schemes tastefully surrounding the room, he can’t help thinking what a fucking contrast to his creosoted railroad ties with a stark bare light hung by a cord above them in the concrete bunker.

Recollecting the now classic movie, ‘Story of O’, racy in its own way for its time, he remembers actually renting it from one of the earlier video stores on a beta tape for his also at the time state of the art beta-max VCR.  Fuck, that had to be sometime in the mid seventies.  Cleary presented herself as being transformed into the classical submissive, and what a fucking body, even became a James Bond girl a few years later.

Glancing back toward her, back toward the podium, he lets her step ahead of him as he glances over the various bondage implements on a flat sterling silver tray next to a pillar.  A couple simple leather cuffs with the exception of gold ‘O’ rings for fastening lay atop the various array of bondage gear.  In the movie, the disciplined submissives’ wore the same type cuffs while dressed in sheer white free flowing dresses that were stripped down to below their waists to begin their floggings.

“Ready for her to be brought in now?”  She asks, again in a low tone, not really asking, just being polite.

“What?... Yeh… Yea okay.”  He answers, glancing toward the pillars, back toward her.

“To properly use this setting.”  She answers, her eyes still lowered as she reaches for one of the wrist cuffs, she continues.  “When I use this… I mean usually when this room’s used, the submissive is offered in a more elegant manner to suit the atmosphere of the chamber… That way… At least to me… The pain’s more enjoyable. ”

“Really?”  He smiles, shakes his head.

“I… I just thought you’d want to see how to make a flogging more erotic and not just inflicting pain… More erotic can be so much more enjoyable…Especially for the person inflicting the punishment… Even the submissive too.”  She nods, glances toward his eyes.  “Not harsh and brutal like a certain person I know!”

“Oh… I didn’t think I was so hard on you a couple nights ago after we agreed on our little tradeoff.”  He smiles.  “You did cum when I fucked you after I warmed that ass up of yours and worked those tits… You actually seemed to like it, didn’t even have to shout ‘Leo’.

“It came close a couple times… And I’m still sore.”  She nods.  “But now I want to show you how to appreciate having a submissive accept, even in a way want the punishment from the proper handler… It can be exhilarating… The fine line between pain and pleasure can meld together if done properly.”  Staring him straight into his eyes, her own eyes almost sparkling, she adds.  “The proper technique can transform a flogging into a rewarding experience... Like I said… Even for the submissive once she’s learned to accept it!”

Listening to her, wondering if what she’s saying means anything, or if the bitch is just trying to act like its okay to whip the fuck out of somebody for no other reason if you’re in a more refined atmosphere, the idea does strike him as intriguing.  “What… You want to show me how to whip you…  To find out where it feels good for you… The next time?... And by the way how about the workout you gave to Ariel’s mom?... And where’s she at now?”

“You asshole!”  She answers as she starts unfastening the strap in her hand while shaking her head.  “She’ll recover… And I have to admit, that was exhilarating too… Not that I’d want to make inflicting that much pain into an everyday routine… And don’t worry; she’s long gone, and might I say with a few good years of servitude left in her.”  Again staring into his eyes, she grins.  “Then again… I guess we’ll have to work something out between us concerning her hysterical sister-in-law you have down in my sub-basement now…. She looks like she can handle plenty of pain too.”

A knowing grunt and a nod, he turns his head as he hears the footsteps in the hallway. 

“If you don’t agree after you watch… If that dick of yours doesn’t get hard watching the workout I’m about to perform now… Then you’re more of a degenerate then I thought!”  She nods, glances toward the entrance, toward the hallway, the sound of approaching footsteps.  “Now for your surprise.”

       Led into the room from the hallway with white dressed submissives on either side of her, also in a revealing white dress, she’s the girl the Dom negotiated with him for.  Eyes lowered, her hands palms outward by her thighs, her hair stretches severely back behind her head.  Directed to the podium, without hesitating she turns, raises both arms toward the Dominatrix.

       “She’s a fast learner… Really she is!”  The Dom smiles toward him as she slips the open cuff onto the girl’s left wrist, raises it toward the gold clasps on the marble column.  A second cuff, unclasped then secured around her other wrist and that arm’s raised up to the other column.  The submissives helping, one kneels and fastens straps to the girl’s spreading ankles, fastens them to the bottoms of the columns.

       The submissives stepping back follow a nod from the Dom and leave the room shutting the door behind them.  Just the tree left in the room, the Dom steps onto the rear of the podium, reaches around and unbuttons the three buttons lining the front top of the dress.  Letting the dress spread open across the girl’s outthrust breasts, untying the straps across each shoulder as both breasts sway freely, she lets the white material drop to the floor completely revealing the girl’s totally naked body.

Spread-eagled in a taut but not quite so severe pose, her milky bare flesh shimmers from a recent bathing and shaving.  Eyes still toward the floor, her stomach ripples with each breath, her ribcage defined under her glistening smooth flesh.  Makeup perfect, her slender waist obviously still being molded by cinching corsets, the slight bulge of her pubic mound standing out above her spread vagina, all in all she makes a stunning submissive.

Smiling toward him, reaching for her left sleeve, tugging it off her shoulder, the Dom whispers.  “A little warm in here… Mind if I remove some of my clothes too?”  Slipping off the other sleeve, sliding the dress down across her hips, her white garter belts, she stands naked in her white mesh stockings, white stilettos.  Breasts oiled, glistening, her body also freshly shaven, her tanned flash contrasts with the girl’s.

Folding the dress, picking a bright red ‘O’ ring from the tray, she slips it between the girl’s unresisting parting lips and fastens its black leather straps behind her neck.  Cupping a bare breast, sliding her thumbnail back and forth across the nub of the flattened nipple, she gently asks.  “Ready to show him how well you can accept the lash?”

A slow nod of the head in response, the girl’s eyes still staring toward the floor, the Dom glances aback toward him with a smile as she picks out a willowy, flexible cane.  “I think we’ll start with this first.”  She softly states as she flexes her wrist, lets the dark tanned color wooden cane swish back and forth in her hand as her supple breasts sway in unison.  Stepping behind the girl, raising the cane horizontally as she carefully positions herself, a slight flick of the wrist and the end of the crop curls, ‘smacks’ across the rounded topside of the girl’s butt cheeks.  “Thwack!”

The girl’s naked body shuddering, her fists clenching as she frantically tiptoes onto the balls of her feet, the Dom smiles toward him as she steps to the side of the podium, positions herself again.  “Notice… Not a word from our young lady… A little movement maybe… But a good little silent girl!”  The Dom smiles, traces a fingertip across the already red welt rising across both butt cheeks, contrasting with the unblemished creamy flesh.  “She’s already learning to be quite polite.”

Stepping to the front of the podium, she lets the back of her hand brush across the girl’s right nipple as she glances back toward him.  “She obeys without hesitation… Watch.”  Glancing back toward a tear streaking down off the girl’s cheek, she softly orders.  “Push this little tittie out so I can flick it with the cane…  And let’s see… How about right across that nice pink bare nipple?”

Taking a partial step back, positioning herself at an angle, curling the supple crop and bending it back in both hands, she positions it horizontally in front of the girl’s firm breast being obediently thrust forward, appearing not so small as her back arches.  “Three… Two…………… And one!”  Counting down, hesitating on the final count, she lets the crop spring outward.  ‘Swish… Thwack!”

“Oomph!”  A nearly silent mutter as again tiptoeing, now up onto her toes, her shoulders arching back, the girl turns her head sharply to the left as her fists clench above the leather wrist cuffs stretching in the bindings.  A red welt streaking across her creamy breast, tracing across her flattened areola and nipple, tears stream down her cheeks from both welling eyes.

Again glancing back toward him, smiling, the Dom gently taps the crop across the girl’s bellybutton as she speaks.  “Now a nice pleasant stroke between her cuntlips… Right across that little nub of a clitoris I’m so found of.”  Kneeling in front of the girl’s quivering body, again her own substantial breasts bouncing, jiggling, she positions herself between the girls spread thighs, glances up into her widening, pleading eyes.  “Okay dear…   Push that little pussy out here for me…  And spread those legs a little wider… Okay?”

Bending the crop back again between both hands, watching the girl’s trembling legs spread even wider as her knees bow outward, the Dom glances back at him, at him reflexively pressing his own legs together as he bites his lip, intently watching.  “Three… Two… One!”  Touching the tip of the crop against the handle, releasing her fingers, the bowed crop flexes directly between the girl’s thighs, curling, springing straight forward, over handed.  ‘Swish… Thwack!’

“Aaaaaggggghhhhh!”  Her body jerking back, her knees jerking inward, the bindings stretch, flexes from her ankles and wrists as her head flails back across her tensed shoulders.  Saliva spewing out from the ‘O’ ring, her groan much more audible, the Dom raises from her kneeling position, pats the front of the girl’s flexing stomach, rippling abs.  Glancing toward the red welt streaking upward from the girl’s slit to across her shaven pubic mound, glancing back toward him, she smiles.  “She’s allowed a little release when I flog her pussy… It’s a girl thing!”

Stepping to the other side of the girl, lining up her other breast, she taps its nipple with the tip of the crop.  “Can’t forget this tittie… Can we Hon?”  The girl noticeably quivering, spittle drooling out from the ‘O’ ring, her breast jaunts outward, the unmarred, smooth nipple jiggling. “That’s perfect Hon… Now hold still so we can match our other tittie… And remember… Silence… Or I’ll have to punish you by flogging your clitoris again.”  Again positioning herself at a sideways angle, flexing the crop back with her fingertips, she aligns the bowing shaft with the tip of the perky breast.  “Three… Two……………………… And………….. One!”

The crop bowing, bending as the tip springs from the Dom’s fingers, the girl closes her eyes, braces.  ‘Swish… Thwack!’

Letting the crop sink into the girl’s breast, watching her glistening body tremble, her head jerk back, the Dom watches the red welt instantly rise across that milky globe as she pulls the crop back.  A little brighter then the other welt, a little longer, it too stretches across her flattened areola.  “Good girl…. Not even a whimper… I’m so proud of you!”

Stepping from the podium, breasts bouncing, nipples spreading apart with each bouncing step, she strolls up next to him, asks.  “Now… How erotic is this workout Mister?”  Turning back toward the slumping girl, the red welts glistening, contrasting with her fair skin as her arms stretch upward to the cuff’s bindings, the Dom lets the tip of the crop flick across her own left nipple, hands the wooden shaft to him and nods back toward the girl.  “Want a turn?... Work her out like me?”

“Sure!”  Taking the crop, staring directly into the Dom’s sparkling eyes before stepping toward the podium, he lets the tip of the crop playfully flick across her right nipple, realizing he’s about to be instructed for his next negotiated workout with the Dom, with her bound naked between those pillars.

End Part Ten