“Leave us,” I said to the young lad I was working with – a recent recruit who was
learning the ropes. He was also my chaperone under the new regime as I was no longer
allowed to interrogate alone.
“But...”
“I said leave us! No ‘buts’, just get the hell out of here.”
The poor lad looked perplexed which rapidly turned to worry. He knew this was
against the rules. He knew I had a reputation and needed to be monitored. But I was his
superior so he did as he was told. He left me and Ciara alone in the room.
At this point Ciara was sitting on a wooden chair with her wrists cuffed behind the
chair’s back. It was a position I had enjoyed putting her in as it forced out those lovely
bouncy tits which clung revealingly to her sweat moistened silk top. Her ankles were also
tied to each of the chair’s front legs. Her shoes had naturally been removed.
She watched the young agent leave the room then flicked her eyes back to me. I could
see the fear rising in those emerald pools, countered by a steely determination not to
crack. Ciara remained silent, as she had done for most of our time together. She had
obviously been told that silence was the best approach if she fell into unfriendly hands.
I paced the room before her, using up a few precious minutes to let her sweat – to
let her wonder what this new ploy might involve. Then I walked behind her. I let my leg
brush against her tethered hands so she would know I was there, towering over her – six
feet one and two hundred pounds of Glaswegian rough with an edge that had been sharpened,
rather than blunted by the south. Then I placed my hand on her shoulder. She shuddered and
drew in a hiss of air as my hand touched her naked flesh. Her skin was so smooth and soft,
and radiated a heat that took me by surprise. It was like the biochemistry of our contact
caused this reaction. I rested my hand there and absorbed the effect – I let Ciara
appreciate it as well. Then I leaned over so that my mouth was at her right ear. I
breathed deeply of her scent – raw pheromones that made me dizzy with their power. I
watched her breasts rise as she breathed deeply as well. For a moment I was lost in the
animalistic dance. Then I forced the professional spook back to the fore.
“I’ve had enough of the messing around, Ciara. You’re going to tell me everything
you know about the plans. We can do it the hard way, and believe me, it will be hard. You
have no idea what a bastard I can be. Or we can do it the easy way and you’ll save
yourself a hell of a lot of grief.”
I clamped my left hand over her mouth and I slid my right hand slowly down the
inside of her top until it rested on her magnificent firm breast. I felt its mass as she
tried to struggle. I outlined its shape with the palm of my hand. Then I circled the
aureole with my finger, leisurely touring the edge of her nipple. My finger coursed over
the teat which was plump and swollen. She might be screaming and cussing behind my gagging
hand, but the girl was clearly aroused.
I was more than aroused – my cock was rigid, almost painfully erect. I pressed my
groin against her shoulder blade so she could feel the effect she had caused. She jerked
in her bondage, drawing in air deeply through her nose and arching her back, pushing out
her breasts as if in encouragement for me to fondle them further. More air was sucked in
as I pinched her nipple gently between forefinger and thumb. I pulled it outwards – the
generous size making it easy to grip. Then I squeezed on it hard and twisted it around.
Ciara writhed about trying to fend me off, tossing her head from side to side, her
shoulder rubbing deliciously against my throbbing prick.
I freed her mouth.
“Aaaargh!!! Stop it, you bastard! How dare you!”
That earned her a hard slap across the side of her face. I released her nipple and
withdrew my hand to wallop her from behind catching her on the ear and cheek.
“The hard way it is then!” I said, just loud enough so that the words could be heard
over the panting of Ciara’s breath as she tried to recover from the dual shock of sexual
violation and physical abuse. “It’ll take a bit longer, but you’ll tell me what I need to
know. Everyone talks eventually if they’re left alone with me for an hour or two.”
Making no attempt to hide my erection that tented out the front of my trousers, I
walked round to the front of her and pulled up another wooden chair and placed it a yard
away from Ciara. I sat down and hunched over so I was only inches from her face. She
stared back at me defiantly. There was loathing firing out from those emerald eyes; but I
could see unmistakable arousal in her dilated pupils mingling with fear. She was bracing
herself for another blow.
“Don’t worry, Ciara. I’m not going to hit you again. That lovely face of yours is
safe enough around me. I’m not as brutish as some of my colleagues in that respect. Well,
okay, yes I am. If you were some ugly bitch then you’d definitely get smacked about. But I
tend to use more subtle methods to get the cute babes like you to talk.”
As I said this I placed my hands on Ciara’s bare knees. She tried to nudge them off
but she was too firmly tied to do anything other than open and close the knees slightly.
She soon tired of trying to dislodge me. I could sense the realisation dawning that I
could do whatever I pleased with her – that the normal rules no longer applied and that
she was in deep, deep, shit.
She didn’t look at all comfortable about this... and quite rightly so!
Enjoying Ciara’s growing anxiety, I slid my hands up the inside of her milky thighs
forcing her skirt upwards to reveal more flesh. My cock was throbbing as inch by inch I
delved between those silky soft thighs, pushing under the skirt when it would go no
further. Eventually I reached the top of her legs and touched the swell of her crotch.
God, what a moment! It like I was zapped by an electric bolt, my whole body tingled. I
thought I might come, the thrill was so intense. Taking a deep breath, I paused for a
moment, and allowed the threat of a messy explosion to pass. Then I began stroking gently
up and down her soft, puffy cunt lips, the silky material of her panties adding a
marvellous element of mischief to the action. Her anxious gasps and the way she tensed in
panic added even further to the thrill of the act. I repeated it, stroking up and down
again brushing my fingers against the firm, warm wad of her gusset that I’m delighted to
say was getting a little bit moist.
In spite of, or perhaps because of her treacherous cunt that was oozing juice,
Ciara screamed at me and cursed me to the high heavens. For a classy lady she had a foul
tongue in her mouth which is very typical of the Irish. I paid no attention as I continued
to stroke and touch her; revelling in the contact that increased in duration with each
fondle I gave. For many minutes, to the backdrop of her foul mouthed abuse, I stroked and
felt, only the rasping, heavy breathing off my excitement could be heard above her defiant
cries. Soon I was cupping her cunt in my hand, savouring her moistness and the heat that
her sex radiated through the thin panties. She yelled and yelled, but I paid her no heed,
I was too lost in the sexual thrill of this wonderful foreplay.
Then I took my hands down and looked into her eyes, pure devilment on my face. I
saw a few tears had escaped which added to her vulnerable beauty - she tried to shake them
away, too proud to show such weakness.
“You sick pervert!” she yelled in frustration. “You bastard! You can’t do this! I
know you’re not allowed.”
“I can do whatever I want, Ciara. Now let’s get you more comfortably dressed so we
can make a start.”
“But...”
“No buts, Ciara. It’s too late for buts.”
With Ciara still yelling out her abuse, calling me some shocking things I might add,
most of which were true, I got up and fetched my bag of tricks that go everywhere with me
for events such as this. Then I returned to Ciara.
“Tools of the trade, Ciara,” I said as I placed the large leather bag between us and
opened it. “Now, what shall we start with?”
Ciara watched me as I made a show of rummaging around, bringing out some very weird
looking instruments for her benefit then returning them to the bag.
“Ah, yes! That’s what I was looking for.”
I brought out a knife - a big, nasty looking, very sharp knife, which I waved in
front of Ciara’s face. She drew in a sharp breath. She prepared herself for the cut she
expected, but I had no intentions of drawing blood – there was another body fluid that
interested me more and it wouldn’t be this knife that brought more of it forth. I grabbed
hold of Ciara’s silk top, pulling it away from her chest, creating a safe gap to protect
those stunning tits. Then I slashed down with the blade, slicing the material with ease,
cutting cleanly between her breasts which were shaking lewdly with fear. The top fell
open. I pulled the tattered rag over each shoulder so it was left draped behind Ciara’s
back. Her breasts were now bare for me to see.
Stunning!
My cock was twitching, itching to fire – the sight of her breasts causing it to
pulse. They sat so high and were firm and gloriously full, with large perky pink nipples
in the centre of lovely big circular aureoles.
I reached out and took a breast in each hand, marvelling at their youthful feel. I
massaged the orbs, squashing them together, grappling with the flesh ever more vigorously.
Then whilst one hand continued to grapple, I used the other to tease a nipple, tweaking
and pinching the big rubbery teat. Then I allowed a hand to roam down her side until it
reached the fastenings of her skirt. The button was undone; the zip was pulled down and my
hand slid in to feel her naked hip.
That was enough!
I got out of the chair and wrestled the skirt off her, ripping it as I pulled it
from under her seated ass. I pulled it down as far as her calves along with her skimpy
white panties. Ciara was left seated with her snatch on display – a neatly trimmed cunt
with a little triangle of auburn pubic hair crowning the puffy lips that formed her
moistened slit.
I grinned and listened as I was again cursed to the high heavens. She really had a
formidable repertoire of cusses.
I was a bastard, I was a sicko, I was a dirty pervert; I was a whole lot more
according to Ciara who screamed this in my face.
Perhaps.
I was also a very happy man as I looked at her pussy then reached out to give it a
grope.
“That’s not the sort of information I’m after, Ciara,” I told her as I prised open
the lips and tickled the moist inner flesh, settling on her clit which I gently teased. “I
know what I am, you don’t need to tell me – it’s what you are and what you’ve been up to I
want to hear about. But don’t worry – we’ll get there.”
I gave her clit a final rub then delved into my bag.
“Now have a look at this,” I said.
Ciara stared in confusion as I brought out the first toy from the bag. She had
probably expected some hideous device of torture - a clamp, or needles, or some tool for
mutilation. Instead I showed her a five inch phallus made of clear acrylic material. It
had a flattened base and a pinched neck about an inch from the base. Along each side was a
conductive strip of metal which linked to a terminal at the bottom.
“It’s an electro stimulation anal plug, Ciara. Have you ever tried one? No? Fabulous
things they are. A couple of minutes with this up your arse and that lovely moist pussy of
yours will be positively gushing. Who said that interrogation couldn’t be fun? Have you
ever been fucked up the rear, by the way? I’ve got bigger plugs if you’re accustomed to
being buggered.” The fury in her eyes gave me the negative answer. “No?” I mocked. “So
you’re an anal virgin! Okay, this one should do.”
“No!” she yelled. “Don’t you dare! This is an illegal abuse – you can’t do this to
me! Stop! Stop! Somebody help meeee!”
I ignored her protests and attached two wire leads to the terminals of the
electrodes then fished out a bottle of lubrication from the bag. Having Ciara seated
didn’t make things easy, but I still managed to force my hand between her legs and find
her asshole with my lubricated fingers. Ciara screamed throughout, demanding that I stop,
threatening me with all sorts of righteous legalities that had no power concerning a
terrorist in detention.
She screamed all the louder as I shoved two fingers into her ass to open her up then
I gave her a good frigging for no other reasons than my pleasure and Ciara’s humiliation.
I fingered her ass for a couple of minutes, twisting around and wriggling about - Ciara
fighting me all the way and losing every battle.
Happy with the reaction I was getting from her and sure that I’d have time later to
finger her again before giving her virginal ass a good fucking as well as her lovely cunt,
I withdrew then I forced the electrode plug inside her. She gasped as the one and a half
inch diameter rod pushed through and stretched her anal sphincter; then she gasped again
as it slid up her chute until her vandalised ring snapped tight around the neck.
Ciara was going to find out just how sweet it could be to know the joys of anal sex,
although she didn’t seem too happy about any of this!
“You evil bastard. I’ll kill you! I swear it – I’ll kill you, you sick, sick
bastard! Get that thing out of me. I don’t deserve this! I... Look... I...”
“Enough, Ciara!” I yelled back. “Just shut the fuck up for a few minutes! This is
the fun part. You’ll enjoy this bit. We’ll both enjoy this bit. Then later you can talk
and tell me about the attack.”
From my bag I next brought out a modified vaginal shield electrode. This was made
from a concave acrylic plate with a silver conductive strip running down each side. The
two modifications I had one of our technician make were a hole near the bottom of the
shield through which another electrode could be placed, and a soft electrode clip at the
top which could be attached to the clit without discomfort. With Ciara struggling and the
closeness of her thighs, it proved tricky to put on, but I got there eventually. Elastic
straps tied round her waist and legs kept the shield in place. Three wire leads were
attached and that job was done.
Finally I produced another plug type electrode, similar to the first but without the
neck. This I inserted into Ciara’s vagina though the hole in her shield. The final pair of
wire leads was attached and Ciara was ready for the thrill of her life!
Strangely enough, Ciara didn’t look too excited about the prospect - her expression
was one of dread and blind fury, although her nipples were still standing impressively to
attention – the stretch of her virginal ass and all the equipment around her pussy, a
small dildo like rod filling her vagina, were all clearly doing the job of forced arousal
to perfection.
No, our beautiful Irish lass didn’t look happy at all, but her expression soon
changed when I attached the leads to the power pack and gave her the first of multiple
sensations that lay in store.
I started her with the anal plug. She let out a gasp of pure shock and obvious
delight when the electrode began to stimulate her ass ring and the anal wall. Not only
that, the clever little device was capable of some pumping, and Ciara experience her first
artificial ass fuck. She drew in her breath, her beautiful tits bounced up and down and
she writhed as she absorbed the intensity of this novel experience which was clearly far
from unpleasant.
“Good, isn’t it? Why do so many women deny themselves such a treat? You’ll enjoy it
all the more when it’s a cock instead of a plug – but that’s for later, my lovely. Now try
some of this.”
I turned down the power to the anal plug, but kept it ticking over then brought into
play the vaginal shield. Fortunately her labia were already shaven, so she could get the
full effect when the two silver band electrodes started to buzz. The action simulated a
mouth and tongue sucking and licking at the inner cunt lips, feverishly working and never
tiring. I gave Ciara a few minutes of this bliss, she threw her head back and panted out
loudly, clearly the little electrodes were masters of cunnilinguis. Then I added to her
thrill by bringing in the clit, zapping her sensitive bud with periodic bolts that made
her screech out in sexual euphoria.
She stated thrashing around. She was screaming at me to stop, but was losing herself
as well, carried away of the wondrous stimulations that few men are capable of delivering,
and never all at once. She was building up to a massive orgasm, but fighting it all the
way. She would never win! I brought in the vaginal plug. Now Ciara knew the joys of
penetrative sex without the need for a cock, tingling sensations that mimicked the
friction of a thick dick doing some fucking in the same way that a vibrator might.
She writhed and she struggled, she moaned and she fought, biting her lips and
clamping her eyes shut as she battled to fight off the inevitable. I helped her along by
playing with her body; teasing her big nipples, caressing her neck, acting like a lover
instead of her tormentor.
I increased the voltage. I varied the sensations, heightening the flow in one
direction and lowering it in another, keeping Ciara always groaning at the heavenly
sensations, and forever wondering what was going to happen next. Occasionally I gave her a
shock, in both senses of the word, when I turned the voltage way up high for a split
second. I had Ciara dancing on the chair in an agony of pure pleasure, as she battled
against the inexorable. I watched in delight as her face contorted in the strain, but
there was no way she could ever hold back.
A little more power and Ciara was bucking, stabbing her hips upwards in imaginary
fucking. But the physical sensations were all too real – those devilish electrodes were
delivering more stimulation that any fuck could ever do. Ciara was groaning louder and
louder, she was writhing in her bondage, tossing her head from side to side; her face was
a contortion of agonised sexual bliss.
I added to her torment by standing behind her and pulling my stiff cock from out of
my flies. I slapped her on the cheek with the rock hard phallus, rubbing the flesh against
her skin.
That was the final straw!
With a scream of: “You bastard! You fucking evil bastard! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh
bloody hell! AAAAAARGH!” Ciara threw her head back in detested ecstasy as she came and
came and came, her eyes rooted to the cock I held in my hand - a cock that was itching to
fuck her and make her come again.
But that would be for later. There was a job to be done. So I put my cock away and
returned to the power pack and used it to play with her orgasm, keeping it rolling;
letting it subside then bringing her up again to explode into another climax.
“Stop! Stop! Please stop!” she yelled, as time after time I make her come. After ten
minutes of continuous orgasms, Ciara’s body was drenched in sweat and her cunt was
drenched in juice which drizzled down from under the shield and collected on the chair in
a pool between her legs.
I reckoned she’d had enough!
Of the fun part that is.
All those women who took, who enjoyed their bit of Glaswegian rough, but then left
me frustrated when I wanted things rougher. Those days were past. Now Scott Carter got his
way and could take things to another level. Enough was only enough when I’d had enough!
“Well done, Ciara. That was one hell of a sluttish display. I bet you never came
like that with some Paddy’s cock pounding away at you... Now that was the fun part. And I
know you enjoyed it just as much as I did. The next part, however, is not so great for
you. You see, the power pack I use has been specially modified. Of course for the women
who like to use these things purely for kicks, there needs to be in-built safety or else
the manufacturers would be bankrupt in a flash. Law suites would abound from very unhappy
women who couldn’t resist trying a little more voltage and ended up frazzling their
snatches.
But I don’t have that in-built safety!
Oh no! This little baby can go all the way.
Now, you tell me all you know, Ciara. Try the location first. What is the target?
Where are you planning to attack?”
Ciara looked at me. There was terror in her eyes. I could see her thinking it
through for a minute. I could see her weighing up the odds. Then her pride; or another
fear got the better of her.
“Go fuck yourself!” she yelled.
I yanked up the voltage. I turned the dials way up and gave Ciara a blast. She let
out a scream as her ass and genitals became a mass of stabbing needles. Electricity was
zapping between all the electrodes. There was no teasing pleasuring in any of this, poor
Ciara was in a mass of tortured agony.
I gave her about twenty seconds then I turned it down, returning to the pleasure
level, keeping the flow going as a background threat.
“Tell me, Ciara. Tell me the location.”
“Please!” she sobbed. “I can’t! I can’t! Please! You don’t understand! I can’t!”
I yanked it again even higher. Ciara screamed and hollered, she jerked around. Her
body was twitching within the restrains of her bondage, I think she climaxed again but
there was no pleasure to the moment, it got lost in the agony that was ripping through her
body.
“Tell me!” I yelled at her. “Tell me the location.”
“Please stop it! Oh God! Pleeeease!”
“Tell me!”
Tears were flooding down her face. Her screams reverberated around the room. She
shook her head time and time again – the agony she was in must have been unbearable, yet
somehow she didn’t crack. I had done this before on many an occasion, I had used similar
torture on hardened men frazzling their cock and balls – they had all cracked – they had
all offered me something which brought at least temporary relief. Yet this girl, this
beautiful creature who had no formal training in torture resistance, was holding out
longer than anyone I’d dealt with.
I turned everything down. She dropped her head like a broken doll, she was
snivelling uncontrollably.
“Tell me!” I ordered in a cold measured voice, masking the plethora of emotions that
I felt.
“I can’t. Please – no more. I can’t. I can’t...”
Her voice trailed away. I feared I might have overdone it – allowed the wrong need
to take over. I tried to think clearly, I tried to act professional, but like Ciara I was
lost in the moment. I gave her a few minutes to recover then slowly increased the voltage
around the vaginal shield and the clit clip. I’d had my fun; it was time to get the
information. Localising the electricity around Ciara’s vulva and clit was the best way for
that.
Ciara let out another grimaced yell as the power increased.
“It’s going to get progressively worse, Ciara. So tell me the location... or I’ll
fry your cunt!”
I yanked the juice up another notch. Ciara was jerking in her chair; she was
thrashing her head from side to side. She was sweating profusely; her beautiful womanly
body was covered in perspiration, making her look even sexier than before. She was
pleading with me to turn it off, but I kept her in perpetual agony. I wanted her to hurry
up and tell me what was needed so I could alert the authorities, so I could save those
peoples lives.
Okay!
Yes!
There was that as well!
I wanted her hurry up and tell me what was needed so I could do what was needed...
and then I could fuck her. God, I wanted to shag her so much! Why was she holding out so
stubbornly?
“Tell me! Tell me, Ciara. Tell me the location and then I’ll turn it off.”
It was then that the door burst open and Rupert Simmons barged in. He took one look
at the scene then flew at me in a rage; screaming and shouting in a very unprofessional
manner, considering the company we had. He snatched the controls and turned off the power.
After a quick check to ensure that Ciara would live and that no permanent damage had been
suffered, he turned on me again, ranting and raving.
He called me a pervert, which I couldn’t deny. He said I was inhuman, which is a
matter for debate. He told me I was finished; a fact I already knew. Then he called me a
‘liability’ which chilled me to the core, for that was the most serious accusation of all.
In MI5 that label earns you a bullet. They don’t want ‘liabilities’ blabbing to all and
sundry and publishing their memoirs in the Sunday newspapers, so retirement of
‘liabilities’ tends to be terminal.
I was unceremoniously escorted off the premises, and Rupert Simmons made his own
executive decision. The stupid bastard let Ciara Quinn go.
It didn’t matter if I was later proved right. I saw the writing on the wall and knew
what was coming my way. My career as a spook was well and truly over. Retirement beckoned
and I wouldn’t get a pension – my future was streamlined and made of lead, coming at me
with ballistic speed. It was time to go deep undercover - time to implement my emergency
get out plan – something that every self-respecting spook has up his sleeve in case of
this eventuality.
The bomb went off and I went to Ireland. I went to find Ciara for I wanted revenge.
I don’t think anything has ever burned me as much as the need to get my hands on that
auburn-haired Irishwoman.
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