) F.B.I
Female Bondage Investigators
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In the grooming room, at Collector's home, words fall down as a sentence. - Too old and not famous. Without inerest for the collector I am. Use her as you want, as a maid or as a cum-bag. Agnes doesn't listen to these insults. She is lying on the tiled floor, where they put down, exhausted, her members shaking. She has screamed when they removed the clips bitting her nipples. She is gently moaning when they lift her, when they carry her and lock her in a padded cell where she falls asleep in a heavy and painful sleep.
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Later, she wakes up... I didn't know where I was. In fact, I knew I was in Collector's den and inside a padded cell. Yes, I was fully groggy and broken but my mind still worked and my eyes too. I was chained by an ankle to a bar that was afixed on the floor. I could move a little. And precisely to the toilets. My bladder was chanting revolutionary slogans. I staggered to the pond and I relieved myself.
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| Some noises outside. Two men, built like tanks, went into the cell. They were naked and one of them was carrying dishes and a blue latex carpet. I ran in a corner of the cell, of course it was a stupidity: I could not run away. They went toward me: - It's kacha time. But good rape before ! Of course they were Russian ! Collector too, we knew that. And their bad french proved that. I was powerless, they were two. Quickly I was handcuffed, gagged, thrown on my knees, leaned forwards. - That's good. No bit pipirka. - Baba like pot. Kacha better in old pot. Ah ah ah And raped (without pain, I admit: the machine had distended me so much that I could be penetrated by anything smaller than a submarine) before I was authorized to eat and drink in these doggy dishes. Here I was just a bitch, a cum-bag. |
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And my colleague, Helene, didn't know where I could go. It's a mistake, Agnes, a big mistake. And you are going to pay for that. There is no angels here. Old pot ! Those words had schoked me.
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Days went by. I was indeed just a cum bag. The two Russians used me regularly during the day, when they got the urge to do it and I felt I was opened like a carriage entrance. In the evening I was the duty maid, under the housekeeper. - Davai, davai. Master is waiting. I obeyed, submitted to the orders but waiting for the weak point, the mistake that would permit to escape myself. |
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I brought Collector's favorite drink, cognac, Je portais sa boisson préférée au Collector, du cognac, shuddering in front of the display cabinets where his collector's items were locked. So I learned that Helene had failed in her protection of Monica Galliani: the former star was here, living board under a latex sheet. Also Jennifer Miller was here in a cabinet: two sinister items. And what about my colleague, Helene ? I was hoping that nothing bad was happened... |
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- Come on bitch. Give me a drink. And lift up your skirt, Show me your pussy Davaï ! I obeyed, silently grumbling " Basterd ! " and invariably, that finished by "Suck me, you slut"
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to be continued...
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