"Master, please,” she whimpered, her white back full of red X's. “I don't want to leave you."
So this was the result of his short training. A proud female enemy converted into a completely abject slave. Either he was very good at his job or this woman was much more of a natural submissive than either of them had realized.
"You have to, Caitlyn. If you stay, someone will kill you by accident. Or I'll be forced to take you hostage to save myself."
"I want to die with you, master,” she cried.
The stalemate was resolved by the assault team from the roof. They came at once from every side, leaping through windows, busting through the doors. Several even managed to make their own entrance via a newly cutout hole in the ceiling. It was like Armageddon. Before anyone could draw another breath they were all down, flat on their stomachs.
"Don't kill him,” a superior officer ordered the soldier who was holding his weapon to Draco's chest. “The American ambassador wants him alive. And the girl, too."
"What about them?"
Largo and Juan were hauled to their feet.
"No one mentioned them,” the superior conceded.
"Good."
Two shots followed, one each to the heads of his most trusted associates.
Before their bodies hit the floor, Draco was cuffed and dragged from the room. Behind him he heard them checking on the woman.
"Senorita, are you all right? Can you hear me?"
"She is not responding. A piece of plaster hit her in the head,” said another of the policemen.
"I've seen it before,” the first reassured. “Just a concussion, magnified by shock. She'll come through it fine."
And if she didn't? Draco wondered. What would that mean for her-and for him, never being able to say what he now knew to be true, that he, Anton Draco, had feelings for his one time nemesis turned sex slave.
Feelings that might well be called love in some circles.
* * * *
Caitlyn awoke in a white room on a white bed. Not a proper bed but a kind of examining table with a thin white mattress. She was stiff all over and when she tried to move she realized she had been tied down.
"Easy there,” grinned a hugely obese, balding man in a green uniform shirt and trousers and a white lab coat. “You don't want to exert yourself too much. You got yourself quite a concussion."
She tried to open her mouth, but she couldn't quite get her jaws to work. For some reason she felt drunk, too, the way she often did after slamming down too many rum and colas with Luke and the others.
"You've been through quite an ordeal, haven't you? Don't worry, your American friend the ambassador will be here soon enough to get you."
Cait tried to shake her head. She didn't know any ambassador. Something was wrong here, very wrong.
"Were you raped very many times?” he wanted to know, placing his hand down on her breast. He was wearing a surgical glove and the feeling of it on her nipple was both peculiar and unnerving.
Desperately, she tried to keep her head clear. She needed to assess him, and assess the situation. For starters, he had tied her arms over her head and secured her legs apart. She was spread eagled, and completely helpless. Obviously he had drugged her as well, probably with some version of morphine or one of its more popular derivatives. The uniform was Parecian army issue, so he must have been a military doctor put in charge of her care till someone arrived to retrieve her from her own government. But why hadn't she been turned over directly to the embassy or someone from the CIA field station so they could fly her to a US military hospital?
"Obviously you were abused. We applied salve to the fresh wounds. You were collared, as well. Did they treat you as an animal, perhaps? A female slave?” He licked his lips
There was far too much light in his eyes for this to be a scientific inquiry. And he was practically drooling on her naked flesh, too.
"There is evidence of rape,” he pressed the point. “A good deal of it."
This time he was fingering her pussy, those latex covered fingers exploring freely her nether canal. The response brought the wetness he desired, though she bared her teeth to let him know this was not what she wanted.
The doctor clucked with his tongue, as if she were some helpless case. “Oh, dear, yes,” he said to no one in particular. “I've seen this before. The confined, hostage woman becomes the very slut they want her to be. Have you a man, senorita? He will not want you now, I fear."
Caitlyn strained weakly at her bonds, trying to find some kind of muscular resistance. This blunt nosed man with the round spectacles, moon pie face and thin, combed over hair was really starting to piss her off.
"That's enough, senorita. Lay still or I will have to shoot you again.” He held up the needle, the phony charity gone from his face.
Summoning all her strength, she stuck up both middle fingers and he promptly stuck the needle in her thigh. Almost at once she felt a fresh flood of dizziness. Damn him, damn him, damn him.
"You won't be able to remember any of this when you get back to the States,” he said, climbing on top of the examining table, his cock flopping wildly out the opening of his pants. “It will all seem part of a crazy dream."
Caitlyn's pussy was very receptive, which was fortunate as the fat doctor was unable to hold up his weight. His cock was large and pulsing and it filled her like a sausage. An unwanted, disgusting sausage.
"You've quite a tight little cunt,” he wheezed. “And a sweet little body. They must have enjoyed you very much."
Perhaps if she could go stiff and pretend she weren't alive. He'd finish faster and be done with it.
"The leader was American, I hear. An old enemy who hunted you down. Isn't that something? Did he make you his slave, little gringa? Did you suck his dick and crawl for him?"
The doctor's words came in short stabs. He was getting himself off with the dirty talk.
"I bet you enjoy that. You crawl to anyone, don't you? You lick dick and ass for anyone you're told to service. You're an animal. Not human, but a slut of a slave. Lower than a puta. Lower than any bitch who puts her ass on the street. You crawl, you lick, you beg to be whipped and raped,” he began to repeat himself. “Tell me it's true."
There wasn't any point in trying to answer. He didn't want one. What he wanted was just what he was doing. Grabbing her tits with his gloved hands, convulsing over her, his prick invading her through the opening in his size 48 military trousers.
"Madre de Dios,” he called out spurting his pathetic load.
How many showers would it take to remove this stink? she wondered.
The doctor sighed deeply, giving himself time to recover. The bastard was using her body as his fucking pillow. By the time he finally got up the medicine had kicked in, rendering her nearly paralyzed. Not to mention high as a kite. She had strong suspicions it was more than just morphine she was being injected with.
"Christ,” someone else was saying. “How much of that shit did you give her?"
The doctor was at her mouth, worriedly, looking inside. “I wanted to make sure she wouldn't wake up too much.
"I wanted a blow job, Gonzales, what about that?"
"It will be all right, colonel, I assure you."
"I'm paying you twenty thousand pesetas,” he reminded.
Doctor Gonzalez unfastened her wrists and made her sit up. “All right, whore, it's time to put that pretty mouth and body of yours to work."
She tried to focus on the Parecian colonel. He had a hard-edged face, dark eyes and a camouflage uniform with a pistol at his waist. “That's right, my dear, it's time for you to repay my government for all the trouble it went through to rescue you."
The fat doctor laid a pad on the floor. They freed her ankles and lifted her down onto it like a sack of grain.
Standing between her legs, the colonel undid his belt. “And you say she'll remember nothing?” he asked, his eyes on Caitlyn.
"Nada,” he assured her. “Nothing at all."
/> "Play with yourself,” the colonel commanded.
Cait attempted to lift her hand. It was heavier than lead.
"Tell me you want me to fuck you."
Her lips were stone.
"A zombie,” complained the colonel, who obviously liked his victims a little feistier.
His reservations weren't enough to keep him from going inside her, though, or from pounding the living daylights out of her. “American pussy,” he cried. “Nothing like it on earth."
"She's a whore, that one,” said Gonzales, his fat, latex covered palm working his penis up to another erection.
The colonel grunted, his cock swelling in readiness to unload. “Draco made her his pet. She had on his collar when we caught him."
"So they tell me. She was plenty marked from his whip, too, I'll tell you that much."
What was it with these two and talking about kinky sex constantly? They must lead the most boring lives on earth, she thought.
The colonel screamed out in Spanish as he finished himself off. By the time he rolled off her there was a new man at the ready, a major. How many, she wondered were waiting after this one?
The major was a small man, with a handlebar mustache. He went through the trouble of taking his pants off entirely. Ignoring her come soaked pussy entirely, he went to sit on her face.
"I should take more samples,” said Gonzalez, moving behind him to play in her pussy.
"Samples of what?” demanded the colonel.
"The sperm, colonel. It's very important to know how she reacts to it."
"Gonzalez, what the hell are you talking about?” snarled the major.
Cait was gagging on the man's cock. It was the largest she'd ever encountered, completely out of proportion for the man's diminutive stature. He stank, too, like he hadn't bathed in a month.
"We should sample the ass as well. She may have infections,” noted the doctor.
"To be cured with your dick, no doubt,” the colonel snorted.
"What exactly are you a doctor of?” the major asked, his pelvis bouncing happily on her face.
"Technically, a veterinarian, but I assure you, I have studied under the finest of medical minds."
"Under the finest whores, more like,” laughed the colonel. “I wouldn't even trust you with one of my dogs much less a human being."
"You call on me quick enough for your torture victims."
"Which proves my point-they aren't as valuable as my dogs."
"We should cut this one up,” suggested the major. “For fun."
"Out of the question. She goes back to the Americans."
"Come on, colonel, what the gringos don't know won't hurt them."
"What was that, major, I didn't quite catch it?"
Cait tensed hopefully at the sound of the American accent. This was it. They were coming for her.
"Ambassador. We hadn't expected you so early."
The major swore under his breath as he pulled out of his victim's mouth. The party, it seemed, was over. The only thing she couldn't understand is why the ambassador didn't sound a little more infuriated over the rape of his countrywoman.
The answer became abundantly clear as the man stood over her. He was about sixty, thin with a shock of gray hair and very elegantly dressed. Slight of build, the silk pants hung a bit on his frame, as did the silk shirt. He was sans tie and the top button was undone, revealing a grizzly neck.
"Welcome to Parecia, Agent Ross. They tell me you're on morphine and that you've been having some pretty strange dreams. Hope I'm not in them."
The soldiers laughed and the doctor, too. The miserable swine was unzipping his fly. He was going to rape her, too! No wonder she hadn't been brought straight to the embassy.
Cait tried to roll away, anything to free herself from the situation, but she was way too immobilized.
"Relax,” the ambassador advised. “Try to enjoy it. You've been violated so many times, I hardly think a few more will matter. Besides, I'm quite a lover, or so the ladies tell me."
His cologne made her sick. Everything about him made her sick. When he got down on all fours and started kissing her breasts she wanted to attack him with her bare teeth, ripping him to shreds. The really shitty part was that he did know how to love a woman and he was making her unbelievably wet.
"I know you went through a terrible ordeal,” he kissed her belly button. “I can only imagine."
"Ambassador! The germs!” exclaimed the doctor as he moved lower.
"It's of no import,” the ambassador dismissed. “I love pussy; stinky, fresh fucked pussy, sperm and all."
Cait decided this man was definitely insane. He probably thought he was being kind but in some ways he was the cruelest of all. Being violated was one thing, but having a man force her to want something sexual, that was another story. That was a mind thing. A mind fuck as Luke used to say.
If only he would show up, she thought. Things would be straightened out in a damned hurry.
"You are a lovely young woman,” the debonair older man kissed her sex lips. “Not unlike my daughter."
Her skin crawled. Could this man be any creepier? But he was getting the job done, making her want him inside her. More than anything, it showed how low she had sunk. A few hours ago she had lay at the feet of a stone cold killer begging him to let her die with him because he was her one and true master and now this.
Everything had gotten so clouded. So confused. It was like her mind was being pinned down along with her body. She needed to be pleasing, that was all she knew.
Whoever claimed her for the given moment, that was the one she must make happy. Today, the ambassador and his Parecian cronies, yesterday, Draco, and tomorrow ... well, who knew about tomorrow. Maybe by then she'd be home. To Luke. Her job. Freedom.
More likely, though, she'd be dead, her body thrown into the river so she'd never be able to point the finger at this bastard.
"I have never had a federal agent, you know."
How wonderful. She'd be a trophy for him, a splendid kill.
Oh, jeezus, he was going down on her. The doctor was going ballistic, talking about all the diseases she might be carrying, but the man was munching away, acting like she was the most delicious food and he was a starving man who'd been lost in the desert a month.
Damn it, no, she tried to scream. I don't want to feel this.
But her mouth just wasn't working, much less her limbs.
"Pity we can't keep her,” the colonel mused.
"She'd be quite an incentive for the junior officers,” concurred the major.
"You don't realize the kind of filth, though, that a whore carries.” This from Gonzales, of course.
"She's cleaner than you; you suck boys’ asses on a daily basis,” the colonel retorted.
He and the major laughed with each other and the doctor took several seconds before telling them to go to the devil, so maybe the accusation was true.
"Just like my daughter,” the ambassador came up for air.
"She will orgasm in that position, yes,” Gonzales explained to the men, though no one had asked the question.
"I don't give a fuck about that. I want another turn,” the colonel groused.
"You? I haven't even finished my first.” The major was standing there, his huge dick limp in his hands.
"Then you better have Gonzales get it back up again for you,” the colonel winked.
The major bristled. “I am no maricon, sir."
"Could have fooled me."
"Give me five minutes alone with the puta, and I will show you who is a faggot."
"Gentleman, please, she is a lady. An American lady.” The ambassador was licking his lips. Cait was still spasming. He'd brought her off after all.
"As you say, gringo. Are you done or not?” the colonel asked.
"Yes. Alas, I am quite impotent, so there won't be any intercourse for me. My joy comes in giving the pleasure only."
"Cristo,” the major shook his head. “If I get this ol
d, shoot me."
"I'll shoot you now, if you like,” the colonel offered.
The major was looking down at the helpless agent. “Wait till I'm screwing her; then I can at least die a happy man."
Cait reveled in his words. The drug had moved her to a new place and now she actually welcomed the penis of the small major. She was beyond shame. Fucking, being fucked was like a cleansing now, a reconfirmation of who she was, what she was here for. As many times as she had changed hands, as many situations as she had been thrust into, this alone had remained constant.
The pleasing of men. When her abusers were happy, she was happy, or at least kept alive. And even if it was through her pain, she could be assured they wouldn't kill her. Because a dead girl can't scream anymore, can't cry anymore or come against her will.
"You see how she is enjoying it?” Gonzales was behind her head staring straight down. His dick was in his hand and he was playing with himself. “This is the natural place of the American woman. They are all whores. Their country has no morals. Scrape the surface of frivolous, lazy ignorance and there is a wellspring of sexual filth, undisciplined and bottomless. No offense, ambassador."
"None, taken,” said her fellow citizen.
"Gonzales, if you spray your fucking shit on me I'm going to cut your heart out and feed it to you over milk."
"Fear not, major, I am a man of discipline."
The major threw up his hands. “My concentration is gone. Turn her over, I'll take the asshole."
"As big as you are?” The ambassador seemed actually to be showing a little concern. “You'll tear her open."
"You think I give a fuck?"
"We had a strict agreement. No marks, no skin tears. No lasting effects,” the ambassador reminded.
Lasting effects ... now there was a joke. And how the fuck did this man know what was a lasting effect? She'd like to see him down here for half an hour or so and then see how he felt.
"Complain to your American president,” the major snorted.
"Ambassador, why don't you wait for us in the corridor,” suggested the colonel.
The ambassador's tone darkened. “Gentlemen, I don't know what you are playing at, but I assure you, my country's good will is not to be trifled with."
Caging Caitlyn Page 10
