“If I refuse?”
“You die. Unpleasantly. Our fearless leader doesn’t like to be turned down. And he knows who you are and what you were up to. Apparently you and he have crossed sabers so to speak in the past. He, however, thinks you can be very useful to us, so that is why you and I are having this conversation. Take her up again, Heinz.” He gestured to someone in the shadows of the large windowless room and the overhead winch whined, taking up the slack in the chain that was still attached to Bibi’s feet.
“No, no. Wait,” shouted Bibi. “I need to think about this. You, you...can you give me a few hours to recover my senses, can’t you? You beat the shit out of me and then you want me to work for you? Come on. Please.”
“You have an hour. I’ll return then.” The man and his accomplice left, locking the steel door behind them.
Half suspended, but still able to sit, Bibi wiggled around on the floor, seeking a more comfortable position in the dark. He back and ass were on fire from the beating, but there was nothing she could do about that. Eventually, after a long struggle, her chained feet were stretched out in front and her back was against one wall. That was as good as it was going to get for there was no other freedom available. Time to think.
At this same time, the horse sounds Bibi thought she heard were in fact real and were coming from the floor above her where three of The System’s ponies were being trained and exercised in a large circular ring. Through a complicated series of transactions, Pony Liz and Chloe, both from the Hanover auction, were now System property, as was Hillie, the wife who thought she was buying a pony girl for herself and ended up as a captive pony a few weeks later. Franz Werner made an excellent profit on the entire deal and was pleased that he made the right decision after exploring the bodies of his new pony charges. He knew of a an agent who would happily take all three women off his hands for a princely sum and the deal was done and completed in cash, so Werner was happy and the auctioned ponies were shipped to the underground facility outside Linz where they were schooled not in dressage or stadium jumping, but in providing entertainment for The System’s many clients.
Pony Liz and the former wife learned quickly, finding it easier and more comfortable to do as the whipper told them and practice endlessly the movements that they were expected to know by heart. They also shared a stall where their nightly sessions with grooms or mechanical devices probing their sex were considered preferable to flogging in the aisle with their haltered and bitted heads immovably chained to the cross ties while their sex and asses where caned and whipped without mercy. Chloe, on the other hand, was a recalcitrant pony and was eventually consigned to the pleasure center where almost anyone who wanted to could do whatever they wanted to her. The rule of “Hurt but no harm,” got a bit twisted and Chloe suffered daily from the butt fucking and the whips while at night she endured the milkers on her bruised and bloody tits. She still resisted and eventually was sold off, via the Internet, to a whorehouse outside Bremen where the rough trade found her resilience fascinating.
Meanwhile, In Frankfurt:
Jean Groff was loading her black, well- modified Mini Cooper S for the fast trip east to Salzburg, still hoping that her cell would ring and bring her news of Bibi’s disappearance.
I knew this was a foolish move, Groff mused, as she closed the rear hatch and climbed into the shiny black auto. But at the time, it seemed like a suitable way to get inside the courier thieves’ organization. Now, I’m not so sure. Bibi could be in grave danger, although, in fact, they have never injured any courier that they robbed. I guess that’s in our favor.
The Salzburg police unit and De Bahn cops have already checked it all out and say they think the musicians took Bibi off the train at the Central Station in a drum case. Bibi’s not all that small, so it must have been one hell of a big drum case. The cops and conductor say that they can’t be sure about the captors since they were dressed in heavy winter garb and had passes they got on the internet. Could have been three men for that matter. No one knows, except Bibi and her backpack with the watches and jewelry are missing.
While she drove the Cooper rapidly out of the city, Jean Groff phoned Twitch Orforres at a private number Bibi had given her. Groff quickly told Twitch the entire scenario and entered onto the autobahn which would take her to Salzburg in about seven hours, less if she could stay in the far left lane and depending on how many idiots were also on the road, driving slowly in the passing left lane in their antique Peugeots. Twitch listened and asked a few questions, then ended the connection. Groff turned on all of the Cooper’s high beam driving lights and pushed the little car hard for the next few hours.
Bibi heard a commotion in the passageway outside her cell. The conversation seemed to be about what to do with her, or someone else being kept there.
“Ah, Bibi. Still here, I see,” her previous tormenter commented without a smile. “I want to bring you up to date on things. First of all, a surprise: Your adorable, little blond friend, Dede, has joined us. She was snooping around and it was just easier to pick her up and bring her here, thus closing the door so to speak, on your disappearance.”
Crap, Bibi thought. What was that little minx doing snooping on these guys and how the Hell did she find out? Now I’ve got to not only get myself out of this, but have to find Dede as well. I suppose she’s happy as a roach in a breadbox if they have her tied up tight and hard. Damn!
Later, Bibi was to learn that she was being held in an ultra secret underground complex built during WWII by the Nazis and used as a research facility for atomic weapons. The property was in what was now officially Austrian territory, but Hitler, being Austrian, had never worried about such petty matters and ordered the facility built where no prying Allied eyes would ever find it. Buried for decades, portions of the 75 acre facility were unknown to and not discussed by most Austrian authorities. Apparently, Brillcart gained access to the area and moved a part of his operations there without discovery by the authorities or the curious public that continued to seek remnants of the Nazis. In such a massive complex, there remained areas so remote that they were long forgotten and this was one of them. Some parts were closed up when the Germans surrendered and in some cases, German and Austrian workers inside the tunnels died there at their posts after the power was cut off and the tunnels blocked.
Now, power and all necessities were provided without outside exposure. Brillcart and his people remained secure and undisturbed thanks to a series of apparently innocent properties on the surface, about one and a half hour’s drive from Salzburg. In one case, a small country bed and breakfast provided entrance to tunnels that ran for miles under the local farmland. Similar properties in the area were very much above board, but attracted few visitors, mostly because they were both unfriendly to strangers and seemingly under constant renovation or improvement. Local inhabitants, especially new generations, had little or no interest in the unpleasant memories of the past and left the property owners to their own devices. Because of concerns about radiation in some of the areas, Brillcart’s acquisition teams carefully inspected the portions of the underground complex that they would use, blocking off access to those tunnels that showed signs of prior radiation threats.
“Unfortunately for you, we have decided to dispose of you, Miss Lynx,” Brillcart said. He stood in front of Bibi who was once again hanging from an overhead chain, this time by her already punished and sore wrists. She had a metal brank on her head and a massive gag and bit forcing her jaws apart and pressing her tongue to the floor of her mouth.
“Although it is possible you could be turned into something useful, my past experience with you influenced my decision, as you are a cunning and formidable enemy. I always dispose of such persons. The stone sarcophagus you see here will be your new home and final resting place, but it seemed fitting that instead of just shooting you, we will allow you to linger here in a special cell, provided with the minimal sustenance and able to think for a few months or years about your folly. Goodbye, M
iss Lynx. Enjoy your perpetual entombment.”
With much of her vision obstructed by the brank, Bibi surveyed the room again, searching for anything that might delay the inevitable next life-threatening move by the guards. She noted the massive stone lid for the crypt, resting on the floor next to the coffin, and suspended with chain from an overhead winch.
Brillcart spun on his heel and walked out of the cell, stopping just as he reached the door. He turned around and spoke slowly: “Oh yes, one other little thing, Bibi Bitch. You have caused me considerable grief in the past and it is my intention to bring you and your little partner a small sample of that annoyance. You’ll be fed and tended to in the coffin, but I am told that the water table here is unstable and is slowly rising. So, if you survive awhile, (and I hope you do), the water will eventually flood this cavern and your coffin as well. So consider your fate. You will either drive each other nuts being contained in the sarcophagus, or the radiation will fry your little brains ...or, you will slowly drown. In any case, good riddance.”
Brillcart left the chamber and the steel door slammed behind him. The two guards who had been standing at attention while Brillcart delivered his parting lecture, lowered Bibi to the floor, fitted her with a tight body chain with steel cuffs at elbows and wrists that held her arms at her sides. They pushed her over to the massive stone vault.
“You can step in on your own or we can just shove you in face first,” one guard said with a smirk. “Personally, I’d cooperate, because you won’t last long in there with your face buried in your friend’s fur box, but that’s up to you. The brank has accessories that will mate you up very nicely with your friend who is wearing one very much like yours. You might even last a week in there if we remember to keep the water and air supplies going. Now step in, Honey and meet your fate.”
Bibi, her knees up against the rough outside surface of the coffin, studied the dark interior of the crypt, wondering if this was, finally, the end of the line. As she approached the raised edge and looked inside, she realized that there was already a body inside the deep cavity. Surprised, she hesitated for a moment.
Holy shit, Bibi thought. It’s Dede. How did she get here? What was she doing here?
“Oh yeah,” said a guard. “Herr Brillcart did mention that you’ll have company in there. This little twat was caught snooping around outside and we really had some fun with her while the Boss was flogging your ass,” the second guard said. “Climb in.”
With the help of both guards, Bibi eased herself up and into the coffin, quickly realizing that her knees were now on either side of Dede’s head which was enclosed in the same type of brank as she wore. The front of the brank sprouted a large dildo that glistened in the bright overhead lights.
Uh oh, Bibi thought. This wasn’t in the plans.
“Kneel, Bitch,” the guard said, pressing down on Bibi’s shoulders and forcing her to lie on top of the small chained figure fastened to the bottom of the coffin. She saw that Dede had a wide metal collar around her slim neck, bolted to the coffin’s floor. Similar metal bands above and below her small flattened breasts, at her waist, knees and ankles held the small woman immovably in place.
As she slid slowly forward at the guard’s insistence, she realized that the long, fat dildo on Dede’s brank was shiny because it was coated with some sort of grease and it was now aligned with Bibi’s crotch.
My God, they’re going to lock us in here fucking each other, Bibi thought as one guard opened the front of her brank and removed the fat leather gag, replacing it with an even bigger and longer double ended-rubber cock that went deep inside her mouth and was locked in place on the brank. Nearly choking, Bibi swallowed repeatedly, trying to reseat the huge oral invader while the guards eased her down until she rested uncomfortably on top of Dede and the brank-mounted cocks on both heads were inserted into the waiting cunts. Bibi felt the metal bands being pressed around her neck, upper torso and legs.
When they finished locking all the bands, the two women were locked into a sixty-nine lover’s embrace, each with double ended dildoes plunged deep inside the other’s body.
“Nighty night, sweethearts,” the one guard soothed. “Too bad we haven’t had more time together, but it would have been fun.”
Chapter Thirty
Rescue?
“...Use them for your own entertainment. Mark them well. I want to see good whip scars tomorrow when we tune them up.”
Twitch Orforres loved this sort of op. In fact, she thrived on it. She knew exactly what she was doing. Actually, she considered this project little more than an adjunct to previous engagements that she had carried out against people she felt were far more dangerous than the fat little watchmaker, Brillcart, with his minions of damaged soccer players and other bumbling slobs. Even so, Twitch was not inclined to take any of her adversaries for granted and she carefully planned this operation down to the smallest detail, in part based on intelligence gathered slowly and painfully from some of Brillcart’s crew in nearly the same arcane, but effective manner as was being used at that very moment on Bibi.
Twitch’s plan had three parts: Part One was a diversion that would, she expected. send most of the installation’s security forces charging towards the main gate where Granda, Twitch’s number three Amazon, set off a series of explosions that blew up portions of the double, eight-foot high fence and would do considerable damage to the granite framed entrance to the main tunnels under the schloss.
Part Two was the massive power outage caused by Felicia, Twitch Team Amazon number two, who silently spot parachuted into the compound earlier that evening and, on schedule, sabotaged the three massive generators that supplied electricity to the underground complex.
Part Three was the silent invasion of the interior tunnels that housed Brillcart’s operational headquarters and the accompanying facilities. Twitch was reasonably sure that Bibi was being held there, based on detailed information gleaned from Coda, one of the guards who had, with considerable incentives for her life and future, defected while in Salzburg and come over to Twitch’s side only a week before. Coda indicated that she saw and heard discussions about kidnapping Bibi and taking her to the complex for what Brillcart referred to as a “Private Party.”
It was a cold and misty Wednesday morning when Twitch’s activated her plan. Armed to the teeth with guns, knives and even throwing axes, as only Twitch knew how, they skirted every security alarm and mine on the vast property and were soon inside the perimeter. Within the first five minutes, Twitch, with GraceLess and Dusty, two of her most dangerous accomplices, had approached the complex over land, cut the bolts on the rusty cover to an old, bomb-proof air vent and slid down the shaft, landing in a deserted tunnel thirty feet underground. Using night vision goggles, sophisticated electronic heat detection gear and directional guidance that relied on neither GPS nor compass, the three heavily armed women trotted east, then southward towards a sealed portion of the old, damp tunnels. They easily punched a crawl-through hole into the main area and quickly nailed two duty guards with their fully silenced .22 cal pistols. These unfortunates had been ordered not to respond to the activity on the surface, to stay alert at their posts to guard the interrogation cells and holding areas where Twitch suspected Bibi and her buff little sweetie, Dede, were being held.
It’s a damned good thing that I like you, Wolfe, Twitch said to herself as they trotted silently down the damp tunnel. Although she was concentrating on the job immediately at hand, Twitch was also outlining in her head a potential future foursome featuring, Bibi, Jean Groff and herself deeply engaged in Twitch’s favorite activity. She considered that perhaps this little blond wench, Dede, might be the fourth player. The variations were tantalizing and infinite. Twitch knew that if she pulled off this rescue, she’s have enough markers with Bibi to pretty much call the shots in an indulgent all girl drama that could last for days. The variables, including the introduction of some sweaty men with beefy bods and a fair whip hand couldn’t be ruled out eithe
r.
Slowing as they neared a massive barred gate with two more guards, Twitch put the fun-thoughts away and concentrated on the immediate situation. Hugging the moldy concrete walls, the three black-clad women stopped. GraceLess, stood slightly out from the walls and in rapid fire shot both guards with her semi-automatic, gas operated crossbow. The bow hissed slightly as it recocked and loaded yet another titanium bolt. Dusty moved forward at once and checked the pulse on both victims, then joined Twitch and GraceLess as they used the guards’ keys to open the gate. They dragged both bodies inside, closed and locked the gate and moved on down the wet corridor, stopping at the first steel door that was secured much like the waterproof doors on a submarine or Navy ship. A small glass peephole revealed nothing. The inside of the closed chamber was dark.
“Get this fucker open,” Twitch whispered to Graceless who was already at work finding the right key. Twitch pointed to the next door a few meters down the hall and sent Dusty silently there to see if that door was the same.
One of the larger keys fit the door’s lock and t clicked open, twitch in a low crouch with the .22’s cylinder nose peeing through. From inside they heard a groan.
Both women slipped inside and Dusty, returned from the recon down the wall, stayed at the door as the rear guard. The cell was bigger than most such chambers and Twitch turned on one shielded red flashlight, illuminating a nude female figure hanging from an overhead chain. The head was contained in a leather hood with a discipline and gag harness over it. The body shivered and trembled as the women approached, emitting another groan.
“Let her down,” Twitch instructed Graceless. “I don’t recognize this one. It’s not Groff or Wolfe. Maybe it’s Dede. Dede,” Twitch whispered. “Dede, that you?”
The hooded head gurgled and another moan seeped out of the gag’s front breather hole.
GraceLess found a control switch on one wall and allowed the nearly silent overhead winch to lower the chained, hooded figure to the floor.
The Couriers Page 21
