Tessa Valmur - Bought and Sold

'Come on, time to drink!' the youth laughed and tightened his hold on her hair, encouraging her mouth towards his cock.

Zoe closed her lips around the tip of his shaft and flicked her tongue against the glans. The youth grunted appreciatively. Perhaps, if she gave him a good time she could win his sympathy, she thought. She gave the tip of his shaft a few generous licks with her tongue and felt it twitch, the shaft thickening, the youth sighing contentedly.

Of course she enjoyed a good fuck and never tired of letting men get into her pants but the truth was what she found deeply arousing was taking control of a man. She guessed that was why she'd joined the SES: to have the chance to bring men under her heel. She glanced at the youth's cock, now fully erect as she bathed it with long strokes of her tongue. Having to do this was alright, but how much more satisfying it was to have some guy helpless and begging her to stop while she tormented him. Of course, deep down they loved it, she was certain, even when they were in pain. It was just interesting to see how much pain they could take. Now though, she was being subjected to whatever this man Mosafa chose to put her through. She could see her wrists bound with the leather cuffs and feel her legs helplessly spread and tied. She had to suffer the butt plug being in her delicate, young body; the inflated rubber forcing her arse so wide she ached. And now she had to suffer having this youth force his cock in her mouth. She felt a piquant ache in her pussy, as she became clearly aware of her situation. Though she hated to admit it, even being treated like this she found satisfying.

Zoe strained forwards a little further until she could lick the youth's scrotum and she managed to encourage one of his balls with her tongue towards her lips. Curling her tongue around the little stone of flesh she sucked it into her mouth and partially closed her teeth, trapping it in her mouth. She felt the fingers in her hair tighten in alarm. Don't worry I won't hurt you, she thought, although if it was Mosafa or Stonefield I might feel differently. She sucked hard on the testicle and the youth groaned loudly. You like that don't you; she smiled to herself and gently tugged the testicle pulling the sac taut where it joined the base of his cock. The youth gave a shuddering sigh. Is that too good? Too intense? She sucked harder, warming to her job and heard the young man give a deep groan. She released the testicle from her mouth and drew back. The cock was ramrod hard and dribbling viscous liquid from its shiny tip. The youth looked dreamily down at her, stroking his fingers through her hair now rather than clutching her forcibly. She glanced sideways at Mosafa who was watching intently. She could see the telltale bulge in his trousers and she smiled with smug satisfaction.

'Don't you wish you were in his place, Major?' she asked tauntingly.

The man was about to answer when there was a shout of alarm from upstairs. For a second the Major and the youth both seemed rooted to the spot. Then came the sound of gunfire. The youth looked wide-eyed with alarm. For a second the Major hesitated then he barked out an order in Arabic. Zoe saw the youth dash across the room and vault up the stairs.

'You don't think you've perhaps got a problem?' Zoe asked sarcastically, momentarily forgetting the fact that she was helpless, her mind now full of an imagined rescue bid by a crack team of British agents.

'Shut up, bitch!' the Major walked across to where she lay strapped down and his gaze swept over her naked and bound body. Zoe saw his eyes fall on the pump dangling between her legs and a second later he had snatched it up, grinning sadistically. There came another shout, or more of a cry, from upstairs which, she thought sounded like Raoul. There was another burst of machine gun fire and then a single muffled shot, scarcely audible and an agonised cry, which again sounded like Raoul.

The Major glanced in the direction of the stairs then looked around the room. Zoe could see that he had discarded his belt with its gun holster and he was obviously cursing the fact that he had no weapon to hand to defend himself with.

'Aren't you going to go and help your servants?' Zoe taunted.

The Major growled something in Arabic and squeezed the pump in his hand.

'No!' Zoe shook her head, her body writhing then bucking as the already well inflated butt plug expanded even more inside her. Shouting for him to stop, she didn't hear the footsteps on the stairs and neither did her tormentor.

'Stop right there Major!'

Zoe lifted her head back and saw a tall man, dressed in black with what she thought at first glance was the protective leather clothing of a biker. Her impression was reinforced by the fact that he wore what looked like a biker's crash helmet, black with a black glass built in visor. Then she realised from her SES training that what she was looking at was state of the art body armour.

'Who the hell are you?' Mosafa demanded.

'Put that down and move away from the girl.'

The man raised a revolver, which was fitted with a silencer. Zoe heaved a sigh of relief as the Major let go of the pump and stepped away from the bench.

'Uhh... please help me... hurts...' Zoe gasped.

The man advanced into the room as he heard someone behind him.

'Hey chief, can I come down?'

'Be my guest Basil.'

Zoe watched a handsome dark young man descend the stairs with agile grace. He was dressed in frayed jeans and a sleeveless olive green combat jacket.

'What next chief?' the young man glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow when he saw Zoe strapped down over the bench. He had an automatic pistol jammed in the waist of his jeans and slung from a belt about his waist a large knife. A sheathed dagger was strapped to one of his boots and in one hand he held what Zoe recognised as an Uzi 9mm machine pistol. These were definitely not SAS, she told herself, unable to take her gaze off the lean but well muscled young man who'd just appeared.

'Release the girl, I'll watch the Major.'

'No sooner said than done.'

Zoe smiled to herself at the young man's cheerful, easygoing manner. He seemed to be treating this as no more of a day's work than a barman shaking cocktails.

'Please, can't take anymore... take it out...' Zoe looked imploringly at her rescuer who stroked one hand reassuringly down her flank as he took in her condition.

'Relax, we're gonna take good care of you.'

Zoe felt the butt plug abruptly deflate.

'Can you force it out?'

'Too tired... help me...' Zoe sighed, happy for the young man to look after her. She closed her eyes as she felt him prise the rubber plug from her anus. A second later and he was releasing the straps that held her thighs spread.

A few moments later and Zoe found herself slumped on the sand floor, nursing her aching but freed wrists. The man in black had waited in silence whilst she had been freed and now he ordered the Major to lie on his back on the same bench to which Zoe had been strapped down.

'Who are you? What's happened to the others? He had two servants and there's an Englishman with him as well. They brought another girl... who are you? Uh, my legs feel like jelly, I can't stand!' Zoe found herself stumbling then she sank to her knees.

'Basil, I'm going to see if Vanessa is okay. Finish securing the Major to the bench then help Miss Farquerson upstairs.'

'You know my name! You have come to rescue me! Oh thank heavens!' Zoe felt tears of relief prick her eyes and a surge of joy well up inside her. At last, her nightmare was over! She watched as the young man finished securing the leather cuffs around the Major's outstretched arms and legs.

'Okay Miss, can I help you or can you walk?'

'I can walk,' Zoe smiled gratefully and hauled herself to her feet. She stared down with unconcealed loathing at the Major of the secret police who had made her last few days such a misery. She wondered what had happened to Sir Rodney. Perhaps, he'd been shot, maybe killed. She wondered fleetingly about the two young Arabs. She imagined them firing away madly at the man in black, his body armour absorbing all their fire. Had he gunned them down? Whoever the British Secret Service had sent to rescue her they had chosen someone obviously equipped for the task.