"Cassie Clack in THE RESCUE " by Blacksheepboy413

[esercito sconfitto]

Cassie Clack in THE RESCUE pt2
by ~blacksheepboy413

Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE

Part 2

Cassandra Clack awoke in a dreamy haze, the early morning sunlight coming in through the translucent curtains that hung from her floor-to-ceiling bedroom windows.

She heard the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, and the call of gulls, and she heard the sound of soft breathing next to her.

Cassie stretched her arms above her head, the sheets falling away from her upper body, exposing her bare breasts. She yawned into her fist and rolled over to her other side.

Polly lay still asleep, strands of black curls in her face. Cassie smiled, and was a little surprised to find she was happy to still be with the girl. They had been having on again/off again sex---she wouldn't quite call it a relationship, even though they did go out on the occasional "date"--for the last three months. This was a record breaker for Cassie, who usually went through a different girl every week.

Polly was black, and on top of that she was British, and if there was one thing that could always make Cassie melt it was a cute black girl with a British accent. Cassie reached out and gently pulled the strands of hair out of Polly's face, then rested the back of her hand on Polly's cheek. She liked the way her own super-pale skin contrasted with Polly's dark. She liked Polly's full lips, and little button nose, and large brown eyes. And she liked--maybe even loved--the taste of her pussy. Hell, she had to admit it--she really liked Polly.

And that was a problem.

Cassie was relatively new to her line of work--a little over a year--but she was already a stunning success. She had risen to near legend-status in the game , and with that came the big bucks---the big bucks that allowed her to pay for this current, gigantic condo in the Hamptons, as well as a penthouse in Manhattan, and a villa in Italy. And that was all great.

But the one thing you learned in this line of work---rule one, if you will--was to never, ever have a serious relationship. There was no way you could balance it with your work.

Cassie sighed, and her sighing stirred Polly. Polly lazily opened one eye, then another, and a sweet smile spread on her full lips.

"Morning, love," Polly whispered.

"Morning," Cassie said, smiling. She leaned over and gave Polly a peck on the lips.

"Oh, no," Polly groaned. "I'm sure my breath is ghastly."

Cassie laughed and pulled her tight against her own body, their naked bodies pressing firmly against each other.

"Sleep okay?" Cassie said, nuzzling against Polly's neck.

"Yeah," Polly said. "Although...I heard some noises during the night..."

Cassie was very still. "Noises...?"

"Yeah, like...banging noises. The pipes or something; sounded like it was coming from the basement."

"Right," Cassie said, nodding. "I've been having some plumbing problems. You'd think for all the money I pay for this place the damn plumbing would work right."

"Mmm," Polly said, her eyes closed, not really listening. She was drifting back asleep.

"I'm going to go get a drink," Cassie said softly.

"Mmmhmm," Polly muttered, almost asleep again.

Cassie rose from the silk sheets and walked nude to the bathroom. She pulled on an over-sized Ramones t-shirt that stopped an inch or two below her ass, then made her way down the spiral staircase to the first floor of the condo. She looked out the glass patio door, out at the clean sand and sparkling ocean. An old woman was walking her dog on the beach, and far out in the water a small sailboat was drifting by.

Cassie went to a cabinet and removed a key, then made her way to the locked basement door. She unlocked the bolt with the key, stepped onto the first step, and closed the door behind her.

She walked slowly down the stone steps, the stones cold beneath her bare feet. She rounded a corner, and sighed.

"Damn it, I told you two to behave," Cassie said, her hands on her hips.

There was an old mattress on the floor, in a corner, and laying on the mattress was a woman in her early forties. She was a little on the chubby side, but she had a pretty face. Of course, that face was now obscured due to the fact that duct tape was smoothed over her eyes and wrapped entirely around her mouth and the back of her head.

She lay on her back, her hands bound behind her her with zip-ties. Her ankles were cuffed together, and a length of chain ran from the ankle cuffs to a water pipe close to the ground.

Laying on the floor, next to the mattress, was the woman's eighteen year old daughter. She had golden blonde hair like her mother, and like her mother, duct tape sealed her lips, zip-ties bound her hands behind her back, and cuffs with a chain anchored her to the water pipe. However, during the night, the daughter had rolled off the mattress onto the floor, and somehow one corner of the duct tape blindfold had come up a bit.

The two women were completely nude, and their naked skin was covered in dust and grime from the basement.

The minute Cassie spoke, the two women began "Mmmmph"ing, but Cassie knew the sound wouldn't travel. She had packed both of their mouths with thick sponges before taping them shut.

"Ladies, please," Cassie sighed, walking over to a work bench and retrieving a roll of duct tape. "I have company. Just sit tight, okay? It's only been 24 hours."

Cassie lifted the daughter back onto the mattress. The thin, nude 18 year old struggled and squirmed, but Cassie ignored this as she tore off two fresh strips of tape and smoothed them down over the girl's eyes.

"As soon as your dad pays the ransom for you and your mom," Cassie said to the writhing girl, "you gals are free. Okay?"

"Mmmph! GMMPHHH!" the mother moaned.

Cassie grabbed the woman by the neck and squeezed--tight, but not TOO tight.

"Listen, lady," Cassie half-growled. "I've been very nice to you two---I mean, besides kidnapping you, stripping you naked, and tying you up. But other than that, I've been very nice to you two. Trust me, you DON'T want to get on my bad side. I can make things much worse for you. I've got so many toys that I'm just DYING to shove up your ass and snatch, and so many devices I would LOVE to strap you into. You, and your daughter."

At this threat the mother went rigid, and stopped moaning.

The two naked women huddled close to each other, and Cassie smiled, content.

"Be good, you two," she said. "I'll be back in a few hours with some water."

Cassie went back upstairs, locking the basement door behind her. She went back up to the second floor and stopped in the doorway of her bedroom.

Polly was half-dressed in her black skirt, white blouse and black blazer, and she was stepping into a pair of black heels.

"Hey, doll," Cassie said, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. "Where you going?"

"I'm SUCH a blithering dolt," Polly said, shaking her head. "I have a meeting today--it completely slipped my mind."

"Boo," Cassie said, giving a thumbs-down. "I say you blow that off, and take off all those pesky clothes, and get back into bed."

Polly grinned. "Believe me, love--there's nothing I'd like more. But I really have to get to this meeting."

"I don't think so," Cassie said playfully. "I forbid it."

"Oh do you now?" Polly laughed, checking her hair in a mirror. "And how are you going to stop me?"

"I'll tie you to the bed," Cassie grinned.

Polly went to her and kissed her. "Ooo," Polly said, smiling. "I didn't know you were so kinky."

"Oh, you have no idea," Cassie said, raising an eyebrow.

"I gotta run. I'll call you tonight," Polly said.

Cassie gave her a playful slap on her bum, and Polly gave her a wink and was down the stairs and out the door, the sound of her BMW roaring to life and speeding down the gravel drive.

"Well, shit," Cassie said to herself. "I thought I was going to get some pussy this morning..."

Her mind wandered--briefly--to the two naked, bound women in the basement. But she nixed that idea right quick. Too...unprofessional.

She was debating weather or not she should go back to bed or take a shower when the phone rang. Cassie answered it, tossing a strand of her bright red hair from her face.

"Bonjour," she said, looking out the bedroom window at the sea.

"Cassie, how are you?" asked a smooth, familiar voice.

"Henry," Cassie smiled. "You silver fox of a man. To what do I owe the honor?"

"Are you...busy this month? With work, I mean."

Cassie considered the mother and daughter in the basement. The ransom would likely be paid by tonight---to her employers. As soon as she got the call from them, she would bundle the ladies up into her van and drop them off in the Meadowlands---still nude, of course. But otherwise unharmed.

"Nope," Cassie said, plopping down onto the bed. "I'm just about finished with a job, and then I am free as a bird."

"I may have something for you, angel," Henry said.

"I'm always interested in work from you, Henry," Cassie said, laying back on the bed and raising her legs in the air, trying to touch the ceiling with her toes.

"It's a bit different than what you're used to."

"I like different."

"And I got you a very, very good price."

"You always were a sweet-heart."

"Do you know the name Robert Snow?"

"Of course," Cassie said, sitting up. "Hot shot senator; would be Presidential candidate. That's some pretty big fish, Henry. He'll have a lot of security, and--"

"No, he's not the mark," Henry cut her off. "He's the client."

"Ooo," Cassie said. "This IS different."

"Can you meet with me, and him?"

"Absolutely," Cassie said. "Just say when."

"Now," Henry said. "There's a car waiting for you."

Puzzled, Cassie got up and went to her window. Down in her driveway sat a black stretch limo.

"You really know how to charm a lady, Henry," Cassie said.

"The driver knows where to go," Henry said. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Can't wait," Cassie said. She hung up the phone and went to her closet to dress.

to be continued....
Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE

Part 3

Samantha Snow was trying very hard to wake up. Because this had to be a nightmare.

The last few weeks--how many had it been? she had lost count---had been a hellish blur; she was frequently groggy and nauseous from seemingly constant drugging.

Her entire body ached. She had been poked and prodded and whipped and spanked. She had cried until she was fairly certain she had no tears left---and then she had cried more.

She kept hoping and praying for this to all end--but it never ended. It just kept going.

Samantha did not know where they had taken her--for all she knew, she might not even be in the same country anymore--let alone State.

The first few days in captivity, Samantha had fought back as much as she could. On the rare occasions when she wasn't completely immobilized by restraints, she would kick or punch at her captors. But they didn't take kindly to this---for every transgression, she was punished. If she kicked at a captor, she was forced to hang upside down from a ceiling beam by the one leg she had kicked with, suspended with rough rope. If she punched or slapped, the hand she used was held in a bucket of freezing cold water for hours. Still, she fought. But then came the whippings, and the ass-paddelings. At one point she was even locked inside a human-shaped cage, forcing her to stand in place rigidly, the steel bars squeezing against her flesh.

It got to a point where she had almost no fight left in her.

Now she was in what her captors referred to as her "cell", although really it was nothing more than a small closet with a dead-bolt on the door. She had no idea where she was being held, but i resembled some sort of big empty warehouse, with stone floors and metal walls with wooden beams against them.

She lay on the closet floor, nude, her wrists handcuffed behind her back, a rough hemp crotch-rope tied around her waist and between her legs, biting into her sex, stinging every time she shifted her weight a little.

Her knees and ankles were bound together with plastic zip-ties. Her mouth was packed with a huge wad of cloth, forcing her jaw to hang open--but this was sealed into her mouth by thick leather straps that wrapped around her mouth and the back of her head, and went down around her neck, forcing her to keep her head straight forward. If she moved her head a little, the leather strap around her neck and mouth tightened and she began to choke.

To put it plainly, this was hell.

Samantha wasn't sure what terrible sin she had committed to end up in a place like this, and she prayed for a miracle. For some sort of deliverance. There were even points, when she was at her most desperate, where Samantha wished her captors would just kill her already and get it over with.

The "cell" door was unlocked and forced open. One of the captors stood, looking down at Samantha. There were two captors Samantha always saw--a man and a woman. The man was gaunt, and frequently shirtless. His torso was covered in hideous tattoos.

The other was a woman. She was probably in her early 40's, and very hard looking. She had greasy black hair and dark, piercing eyes. She also had a large scar running down from her left eye, all the way down her cheek, stopping at the base of her neck.

It was the woman who stood in the doorway now.

"Time for your lesson, little bitch," the woman said, sneering.

She hauled Samantha to her feet and took out a switchblade. She used the blade to cut the zip ties on Samantha's ankles and knees, but then instantly attached a pair of iron shackles to Samantha's ankles. The length of chain that ran between the ankle cuffs was only long enough so that Samantha could hobble along--barely walking, and certainly not ever running.

The woman took Samantha out into the main room. Samantha saw the male captor there, leaning against a wall, his shirt off. He wore tight leather pants and black pointy-toed boots. He was eating an apple, using a knife to cut chunks of the apple off, which he then popped into his mouth.

"Today's lesson is a very important one," the woman said. She stopped in front of a tall, narrow metal stool. "So pay close attention, princess."

The man snickered.

The woman removed the leather straps from Samantha's neck and mouth, and pulled the soaking wet wad of cloth. Drool ran down Samantha's chin and splattered onto her bare chest. Samantha remained silent. This was another lesson she had learned---always remain silent, even when un-gagged. To drive this point home, her captors had clipped metal clamps onto her tongue on the few occasions where she did talk back to them. On the other end of the clamp dangled a small weight, which dangled above the ground and stretched Samantha's tongue out to a painful angle.

"Open your cum hole, mutt," the woman ordered. Samantha obeyed, opening her mouth. The woman inserted a large ring-gag between Samantha's teeth, forcing her mouth open in an O-shape. The gag was strapped around the back of Samantha's head.

The woman forced Samantha down onto the stool, on her stomach. The stool was big enough to support her stomach and chest, but her head and legs and ass dangled off either end.

Samantha shuddered, dreading at what todays lesson would be. Why was this happening to her? What did these lunatics want?? This couldn't be a kidnapping for ransom--it was too hellish for that. And her captors never made any mention of a ransom. Indeed, they never made any mention of letting her go at all.

Samantha kept her face forward. She didn't dare turn her head to look at either captor. But from the corner of her eye she watched as the man unzipped his leather pants, letting them hang around his waist, exposing his erection.

The woman unzipped her tattered jeans and pulled down her panties, and retrieved a large, black rubber strap-on dildo. She buckled it around her waist. and then applied an ample helping of lube to the shaft.

Samantha whimpered, closing her eyes.

"Open your eyes, little miss," barked the woman. "Or I will force them open."

Samantha obeyed; she opened her eyes and was staring right into the lubed-up dildo. The woman forced it through the O in the ring gag, right into Samantha's mouth. She tasted the sweet-tasting lubricant and gagged on it. But before she could react more, the man penetrated her from behind--thrusting into her ass.

Samantha cried out, but her cries were garbled by the woman sliding the didlo in and out of Samantha's mouth.

Samantha's whole body shook and quivered as her captors abused her from both ends. And she waited for it to end.

* * *

"Nice place," Cassie said.

She was sitting in a leather armchair in Snow's study, taking in how expensive everything looked in here. There were tall shelves, stacked floor to ceiling with thick books, and there were priceless works of art tastefully hung from the walls.

Snow paced back and forth behind his desk, his arms stuffed into his pockets. Henry sat in a chair in the corner of the room, silently watching.

"So, you kidnap people for a living?" Snow asked, hostility in his voice.

"Yes indeed," Cassie said, crossing her legs. She wore a green sleeveless dress that hugged her ample curves, a light blue sweater and black stiletto heels. She watched Snow with calm eyes.

"How the fuck do you stomach it?" Snow barked. "How do you live with yourself?"

Cassie smiled coyly. "The money helps."

"You make me sick," Snow said.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "I didn't come here to be insulted, Mr. Snow."

"Why should I trust you?" Snow said. "You're just like the bastards who took my daughter!"

"No," Cassie said, shaking her head. "We're on different levels."

"How?"

"I don't kidnap people for slavery," Cassie said. "That's not my racket, man. It's strictly...business. Ransom, or...pleasure. You'd be amazed at how many wealthy people will actually PAY someone to kidnap them, for fun. Why, there's this one--"

"I don't care," Snow cut her off. "How are you going to get my daughter back?"

"Well, first off, Mr. Rude," Cassie said, leaning forward. "There are no guarantees. I can't guarantee I'm going to get your daughter back. I mean, hell, the slavers might get sick of her and chop her head off--"

"Oh God!" Snow moaned, collapsing into his chair.

"Cassie, please," Henry said softly.

Cassie gave him a wink, then turned back to Snow. "You just let me take care of it, okay? As long as your money is good--and from what everyone says, it is--I will do everything in my power to get your daughter back. But like I said--no promises."

"Fine," Snow said, his head in his hands.

"Do you have my down-payment?" Cassie said, leaning back in her chair.

Snow cut her a check. Cassie whistled.

"Look at all them zeroes," she said, playfully.

"You're despicable," Snow muttered.

"And a lot of other things, too," Cassie said. "We'll be in touch."

Henry went with Cassie in the limo on the trip back to Cassie's condo in the Hamptons.

They were silent for most of the trip, and then Cassie said: "What made you think of me for this job?"

"You're very...talented," Henry said, looking out his window.

"Thanks, but this isn't exactly my ball game."

"You took the money, didn't you?"

"Well, no shit," Cassie said. "But I dunno how good I'll do on this."

"You'll do good," Henry said, finally looking at her. "You always do."

"I just hope whoever snatched daddy's little girl hasn't damaged her too much. Some of these slavers are real...," she trailed off, searching for the word.

Henry looked back out his window and said quietly: "Monsters."

When they got to Cassie's condo, Henry took her hand gently.

"Cassie, remember one thing," he said.

"What's that, doll?"

"Don't trust anyone," Henry said. "Especially Snow. He is a man desperate for his daughter back--and there's no telling what he'll do."

Cassie nodded.

She stepped out of the limo and watched it drive away. The night had fallen fast, and a freezing wind blew in off the sea.

Cassie went inside and checked her answering machine. Polly had called, and wanted to meet up. Cassie was about to call her back when she remembered something:

"Oh FUCK, the bitches in the basement!"

Cassie checked her email account and saw that her employers for the job had been paid--and that they had transfered her her cut of the money. She verified this via phone with her bank in the Cayman Islands, and then went to the basement to retrieve the terrified captives.

She bundled the mother and daughter into her van in the garage, and drove them out to the Meadowlands.

She unbound their legs but left their hands bound behind their backs, and left them blindfolded and gagged.

"Be careful, ladies," Cassie said to the naked women as she helped them out of the fan. "It's chilly out tonight. Watch your nipples!"

She pushed the women, and they began to blindly walk forward with muffled murmurs.

"Stay to the left!" Cassie called out. "I don't want any cars hitting you two!"

Cassie hopped into her van and took out her cell phone. She dialed 9-1-1.

"Hi, I want to report something crazy!" she said as she drove away. "I saw two naked women walking along the highway out by Giant's Stadium!"

She hung up as the operator was asking her more questions, then dialed Polly's number.

"Hi doll," she said when Polly answered. "Wanna come over for a late night snack?"

to be continued...
Cassie Clack in THE RESCUE pt4
by ~blacksheepboy413

Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE

Part 4


Samantha was asleep in her closet cell, though it wasn't so much that she had fallen asleep as it was she had passed out from exhaustion. But the door was wrenched open, and the hard looking woman was pulling her out by her bound ankles, dragging her across the floor.

"Gmmphhh...mmmm," Samantha moaned as her bare ass rubbed against the hard stone floor.

She was taken into another room, a room she had never been in before. It was well lit, and had red walls. There was a fold-in chair in the center of the room, and a high-quality digital camera was on a tripod in front of the chair.

Samantha was freed from her bonds and sat on the chair. Her hands were bound in front of her with rope, and then her thighs, knees and ankles were bound together with more rope.

A huge red ball-gag was forced between her teeth, stretching her jaw open.

The thin man entered the room and stood behind the digital camera. The woman handed Samantha a large, thick vibrator and clicked it on. It buzzed in Samantha's bound hands. She looked up at her captors, confused.

"Use it on yourself, slut," the woman said, her hands on her hips.

Samantha was very confused. Even after all that had happened--and been done--to her, having her captors tell her to pleasure herself in front of them seemed so strange.

Her hesitation was too long, and the woman slapped her across the face.

Samantha cried out through her gag.

"DO IT," the woman barked.

Samantha began to rub the tip of the vibrator between her legs, slowly. She felt pleasure shoot through her, a pleasure that made her feel ill.

The man began taking photos of her.

"Slide it in, idiot," the woman said. "Put it in your cunt."

Samantha slid the vibrator inside herself, gasping through the ball gag. The vibrator rumbled within her, intense pleasure coursing through her.

She closed her eyes and shuddered, drool dripping from the gag.

"Move it around!" the woman said.

Samantha slid the pulsing vibrator in and out of herself, and the man continued to take photos of her. This went on for such a period of time that Samantha fell into some sort of trance, mechanically pleasuring herself with a glassy stare on her face, till she reached the point of climax and felt wetness running down her thighs.

"Perfect," the man sneered.

The woman yanked the vibrator away and pulled Samantha to her feet. She forced Samantha to hop all the way back to her closet cell, where her hands were re-bound behind her back, and she was pushed violently forward, collapsing onto her face. The cell door was slammed and locked, and Samantha was in darkness again, awaiting whatever sick horror would come next.

* * *

"Holy SHIT, YES," Cassie moaned.

She was laying on her back, on her bed, fist-fulls of the sheets in her hands.

Polly was on her knees, her head firmly between Cassie's spread legs, her tongue caressing Cassie's clit and sliding in and out of Cassie's soaking wet vagina.

"Oh my god, oh christ, holy hell," Cassie moaned, grabbing a handfull of Polly's curly hair and yanking at it.

Polly grunted, and then grinded her mouth hard against Cassie's pussy. Cassie shuddered and moaned, her lip quivering.

Polly took two fingers and inserted them up into Cassie's ass, and Cassie screamed with pleasure.

"I'm cumming!" she cried. "Oh god I'm cumming..."

And she was, and Polly lapped and sucked at her, taking it all in, and Cassie bit her own lower lip so hard that it drew a little blood.

Polly climbed up on top of Cassie, and they kissed, and Cassie tasted her own juices on Polly's lips.

"You're a-fucking-mazing," Cassie sighed contently.

"Mmm," Polly said, smiling. "I aim to please. I love the way you taste. Like strawberries."

"It's your turn, doll," Cassie said, smiling. "Lay back, I'm going to devour your pussy."

"Hold on a tic," Polly said, climbing out of bed. "I badly need to use the potty."

Cassie sighed in mock-frustration. "God, women."

Polly playfully swatted Cassie's bare leg, and then tip-toed into the bathroom and shut the door.

Cassie sat up in bed, pushing her tangled red hair back, and picked her laptop up off the bedside table. She began surfing around, going through the encrypted channels and back doors to the slave trade websites.

The internet had revitalized the sex slave industry. A whole new international market had opened up. It was like amazon.com for flesh; someone in Russia could order a girl (or boy) from America with one click, and have their new "package" shipped to them ASAP. You just had to know where to look.

Cassie clicked through a few sites, her gray eyes scanning for the familiar face of Samantha Snow. Jonathan Snow had provided her with a thick folder of photographs of Samantha, as well as some general info about the girl.

In the bathroom, Polly was running the water. Cassie was ready to click the X button on the website at a moments notice.

She went to a site called "American Cunts For Sale".

"Charming," Cassie whispered to herself at the name. There was a link that said BRAND NEW CUNTS. Cassie clicked it, scrolling down past photographs of terrified looking girls, bound and gagged in a red-painted room.

Poor girls, she thought. Poor sweet things..

Then she stopped.

There was a whole set of photographs near the bottom of the page, and they were unmistakably of Samantha Snow--sitting in a chair, bound and gagged, pleasuring herself with a vibrator.

"Bingo," Cassie said.

There was a link beneath the last photo of Samantha that said CLICK HERE TO BUY THIS CUNT.

Cassie was about to click it when she heard the bathroom door opening. She quickly X'ed out of the website and shut her laptop as Polly came back into the bedroom.

"Surfing the web, love?" Polly said, climbing into the bed.

"Just checking my email," Cassie said.

"Well your email is going to have to wait," Polly said. "Because you have a very important appointment between my legs."

Cassie grinned.

"Spread 'em," she said, and Polly obeyed.

* * *

It had been years since Samantha Snow had asked God for anything. She had been raised Catholic, but in truth--even as a very young girl--had never believed in any of it. It always seemed fake to her; something made up to make people feel better about their lives and impending deaths.

But now, bound and gagged, laying on the floor of her cell, sticky with her own cum and sweat, Samantha began to pray in the most sincere way in her entire life. She begged God to help her--to let her get away from this terrible place. She begged for forgiveness for whatever terrible past sin she had committed, and hoped that God could find it in his mercy to deliver her from this evil.

And then the door opened.

"Good news, little princess," the hard woman said, grinning. "You've been sold."

Samantha was taken into a room that looked like a loading dock in a warehouse.

There was a large metal box on a platform; it looked like a metal coffin. Samantha shuddered.

Two people she had never seen before--both of them wearing masks--took her over to a shower where she was scrubbed down with hot soapy water. After her shower she was toweled off and unbound, and taken to the metal box. The lid was pulled off and Samantha saw the box had metal straps on its bottom.

Samantha began to shiver. She knew she had to be quiet, but she couldn't take it anymore.

"Please," she wept. "Please, let me go..."

The hard woman stroked Samantha's short hair in a gentleness she had never shown before. "Shhh, it's okay."

"Don't put me in there..."

"Don't worry," the hard woman said softly. "We've done this before. Satisfaction guaranteed."

The thin man came in with a cardboard box. The box had a large roll of bubble-wrap in it.

The hard woman took some leather straps and strapped Samantha's arms at her side, then strapped her legs and ankles together. The thin man then began to wrap her up with the bubble wrap, mummifying her entirely--except for her head.

Samantha was sobbing in fear, unable to help herself. Her captors paid her no mind.

They lifted her up and laid her down on her back in the box, then proceeded to use the metal straps to strap her in place in the box.

The hard woman tipped the box's lid up on its side, and Samantha saw there was a thick metal hose running out of the lid, with a large mouthpiece with leather straps on the sides at the end of the hose. The mouthpiece had a little loop at the top in the shape of the tip of a human nose.

"There's not much air in the box, obviously," the woman was saying calmly. "There's an oxygen tank built into the box. There's enough air in it for 72 hours, which is more than enough. But I'd advise you not to breathe heavily--try not to hyperventilate. The harder you breathe, the more air you'll use up...and, well, that would be bad."

"I'm going to die!" Samantha shrieked.

"No, you're not," the woman said. "I told you--we've done this before. We've never had a slave die during transport."

"Of course," the thin man said, leaning over the box. "There's a first time for everything..."

"You'll be fine," the woman said. "It's like a scuba-diving tank. Ever been scuba-diving?"

"No...," Samantha sobbed.

"Oh well," the woman shrugged. She forced the mouth piece into Samantha's mouth, then strapped it around the back of her head. Her nose and mouth were now covered with the piece.

"Gmmnph--mmm," Samantha cried.

"Remember," the woman said. "Try not to breathe too hard..."

Then the lid was lowered on top, and locked in place. Samantha was in total darkness now, and she instantly began to panic and breathe heavily. She tried to calm herself down; tried to slow her breathe. But she felt no air coming in through the air hose. They had forgotten to turn it on! Oh god, they had forgotten to turn the oxygen on, and she was going to suffocate, and--

There was a sudden buzzing sound, and air came rushing into Samantha's lungs. She took in the air and gasped, struggling to compose herself.

Her journey was about to begin.

* * *

The sun was coming up, and seagulls were starting to squawk out on the beach.

Cassie opened one sleepy eye and saw Polly getting dressed in her exercise clothes.

"What are you doing?" Cassie muttered into her pillow.

"Going to go for a run on the beach," Polly said. "Care to join me, love?"

"Fuck no," Cassie grumbled. Polly laughed, lacing up her sneakers.

"I'll be back in an hour," she said.

"Have fun, lunatic," Cassie said.

Polly left, jogging down the stairs and out the door.

Cassie rose and looked out the bedroom window. She saw Polly jogging off down the beach, and she saw Polly's well-shaped behind accented in her tight running shorts.

"That ass will be the death of me," Cassie sighed.

She plopped back down on her bed and flipped open her laptop. She went to her recently visited sites and got back on "American Cunts for Sale." She clicked on Samantha Snow's page and clicked the link that read CLICK HERE TO BUY THIS CUNT.

When she did, a pop-up box appeared that said SORRY! THIS CUNT HAS ALREADY BEEN SOLD! KEEP SEARCHING!

"Oh...," Cassie said. "Shit..."

to be con

Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE p5
by ~blacksheepboy413

Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE

Part 5

"You were careless," Henry said over the phone.

Cassie stood out on her balcony, watching the waves crash in, her arms crossed and the phone cradled against her ear. Polly was inside, taking a shower.

"I know," Cassie said. "I know."

"You found the girl and you didn't act immediately," Henry said.

"Yeah, I know Henry. Okay. I get it. I fucked up."

"It's very important you get this girl back, Cassie."

"Why? What makes her so special?"

"Her father is going to be president one day," Henry said softly. "And that's a good ally to have."

"Well that's why I'm calling you, Henry. I need you to track the sale. Hack into that fucking website and find out who bought her."

"It's going to take a little time," Henry sighed. "And time is not something we have a lot of."

"Just call me when it's done, okay?" Cassie said, and hung up. She was furious. She did not like to hear Henry talk to her like that--who the hell did he think he was? She didn't work for him. She was her own boss.

Still, she HAD screwed up. She should've acted the second she found Samantha Snow on that website. But oh, the lure of Polly had been so strong...

Cassie sighed. This was exactly why having a serious relationship in her line of work was impossible. So what was the alternative? Dump her?

She turned and saw Polly coming out of the bathroom, her hair dripping wet and body nude and glistening.

"Not yet...," Cassie said to herself.

* * *

Samantha awoke, her head swimming and her body shivering with cold.

The journey had been beyond terrifying--strapped helpless in that metal coffin, terrified she would run out of air. She had even ended up going to the bathroom in there--there was no choice. And the aftermath of that made the journey all the more unpleasant.

She had no idea where she had been taken, or how she had been transported there. There were loud rumbling sounds, and at one point her ears had popped. She had fallen asleep--or passed out was more likely--several times.

And then there had been a change--she could tell the coffin was being moved by hand. And it was noticeably colder.

After an eternity, the box had been opened and light had been shined into her eyes, blinding her. People were speaking, but in a guttural language she did not understand.

Out of the box she had been pulled, and then hosed down, her nude body scrubbed brutally with a rough brush.

Someone in a white lab coat--a doctor, or someone pretending to be a doctor--had injected her with a syringe. He told her what it was for, but again she had no idea what he was saying. And then the world had drifted away again.

Now she found she was in a small, windowless room. She lay on a bed, and while the bed wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, after spending weeks either in closets or in coffins, it felt wonderful.

She wore a white linen dress which clung to her naked skin. A length of chain was padlocked around her left ankle, with the other end locked to the metal footboard of the bed.

Several pillar candles burned on ledges, illuminating the otherwise dark room in ghostly flickers.

Samantha put a hand to her head and groaned. It felt like she had the worst hangover in her life, and her mouth was dry and bitter.

Where was she? And just what was going to happen to her next? The time since her abduction had been a feverish nightmare, and only now did she feel like she was regaining control of her senses. Perhaps it was because for the first time she was no clothed. True, the linen dress was thin, and she wore no underwear beneath it, but just the simple feeling of some sort of covering to her naked body made her feel more secure.

She was also not restrictively bound, or gagged. The chain shackling her to the bed was all there was, and she found if she got up off the bed there was enough slack that she could walk around the room. There was a small metal bucket in a corner, which she assumed--with disgust--was meant to be her "bathroom."

Samantha went to a heavy iron door and tried turning the handle. She knew it was foolish, and sure enough the handle held fast and the door did not budge--but at least she could say she tried.

She sat down on the bed, her head in her hands. She was starving; she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten. Her stomach gurgled slightly.

A bolt was thrown, and a lock undone, and the door swung open. Samantha looked up, trying to remain still.

A woman entered the room. She was Asian, and dressed like a Geisha, in a silken red Kimono. Her raven-black hair was done up on her oval head, and her hauntingly beautiful face was painted as white as fresh snow--the lips thick and red.

"Where am I?" Samantha asked. Her mouth tasted like an ash tray, and she absently licked her dry lips. She fully expected the Geisha would remain silent, and perhaps even inflict some sort of torment, but to Samantha's surprise, the Geisha responded, her voice accented and as silky as her kimono.

"You are in the castle."

"What castle?" Samantha said.

"It does not matter," the Geisha said. She approached Samantha and gently stroked her cheek. "Pretty girl. Soft skin. Sad eyes."

Samantha began to cry. She couldn't help it; the tears came from no where, and she crumpled, sobbing.

The Geisha hugged her against the kimono and stroked Samantha's short hair.

"Shhh," the Geisha whispered. "You are safe now."

"I want to go home," Samantha sobbed.

"You are home," came a voice in a thick, heavy accent. Samantha looked up, startled.

A large bear of a man stood in the doorway. He was well over six feet tall, and had incredibly broad, wide shoulders. He wore a black suit which clung to his massive frame, his muscles rippling beneath the fabric. He chomped on a cigar, and the embers on the end illuminated his cold dark eyes.

"W-who are you?" Samantha said. The Geisha was still holding her, stroking her hair.

"I am your master," the man said, stepping into the room. He reached out a thick meaty hand and took Samantha's chin, forcing her to look up at him.

"Be gentle," the Geisha said to him.

He grinned. "I'm always gentle with my property."

Samantha shivered. There was no humanity in the man's eyes; they were cold and dead, and he looked down at her with such unwholesome lust that she felt her skin crawl.

"What are you going to do with me?" Samantha said.

"You must learn to hold your tongue, slave," the man said, squeezing her neck. Samantha gasped. "You speak only when I want you too. Understand?"

Samantha nodded, struggling to breathe. The man let her neck go.

"I see you have new toy, Vlad," came a voice, just as thick and accented as the man's--but female.

A woman entered. She looked to be in her early 40's, and her face was a mixture of cold beauty and rough edges. Her hair jet black with a white streak up the side. She was dressed as if she had just been horseback riding, with long black riding boots and tan clothes. She held a riding crop in her hand.

"She is for both of us, my love," the man--Vlad--said. The woman stepped forward and stood next to him. Vlad put his arm around her waist. The woman stared down at Samantha.

"Is too skinny," the woman said. "Fatten her up."

"Yes, madame," replied the Geisha.

"Not TOO fat," Vlad said, laughing heartily.

The woman stepped forward and grabbed a handful of Samantha's short cropped hair. Samantha let out a tiny yelp.

"Hair is too short," the woman said.

"Nonsense," said Vlad. "I like it. Is cute."

"Open your mouth, slave," the woman said.

Samantha slowly complied, her eyes looking back and forth nervously. The woman cleared her throat, and then spit into Samantha's open mouth. Samantha gasped, shocked, feeling the woman's hot saliva dripping down her tongue.

"Break her in," Vlad said to the Geisha. "I want her ready by end of week."

The Geisha nodded, all smiles. Vlad and the woman--who Samantha assumed was his wife or at least lover--left the room.

"Do not be afraid," the Geisha said. "I will take care of you."

The words--no matter how softly spoken--were of no comfort to Samantha. She was terrified.

* * *

"Something the matter, love?" Polly asked.

Cassie sat at the kitchen table, wearing an over-sized t-shirt and nothing else. She sipped orange juice and looked absently out at the sea.

Polly was sipping a fresh cup of coffee, dressed for work and leaning against the counter.

"Hmm?" Cassie said, looking over at her. Her eyes drifted to Polly's sculpted, dark-skinned legs. She felt a brief tingle in her bottom, and shrugged it off. She was waiting for Henry to call back, and she needed to stay focused. But every ounce of her wanted to bend Polly over the counter and slide her whole fist inside her.

"You look a bit wonky," Polly said.

"Sorry," Cassie said. "Just distracted."

"Well, I need to be getting to work."

"Don't you ever get a day off?" Cassie said.

"No rest for the wicked," Polly said, flashing a wink. She gathered up her leather bag and gave Cassie a kiss. "See you tonight?"

"Maybe," Cassie said.

"Maybe?" Polly said, suspicious. "Got a hot date?"

"Mmm, if I did, I'd invite you along," Cassie smiled. "Nothing better than a threesome."

"Except maybe a foursome," Polly said, winking again. She blew Cassie a kiss, said "Call me", and was out the door.

Almost the second the sound of Polly's car engine had faded, Cassie's phone rang. She answered quickly.

"Do you have a gun?" asked Henry's smooth, calm voice on the other end.

"Hello to you too," Cassie said. "No. I don't use guns."

"You need to come see me," Henry said. "I have a gun for you."

"I don't need a gun, Henry," Cassie said. "I'm not a killer."

"Trust me, you'll need one."

"Why?" Cassie said, leaning back in her chair.

"I traced the purchase of Samantha. It wasn't easy--lots of encryption to break through. But it appears the person who bought her is a man named Vlad Sokolov. Do you know the name?"

Cassie was silent for almost a full minute. She did know the name. And she knew the reputation that came with it.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I know it."

"I'll send a car for you," Henry said. "I've arranged for a private plane to take you to your destination."

"And where is that?" Cassie said.

"Moscow, my dear," Henry said. "You're going to Russia."

to be continued...
AA T ¶ Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE p6
by ~blacksheepboy413

Cassandra Clack in THE RESCUE

Part 6


The snow billowed around Cassie's head as she stepped off the private plane. The cold, gray Russian sky loomed over head, and she could barely see three feet in front of her face. She was exhausted; the flight had seemed endless. She also hadn't dressed warm enough. Under her green overcoat she wore a sleeveless dress, wool stockings and thigh-high black boots. She shivered and cursed the cold. Her thoughts drifted to Polly.

The previous day she had broke the news to Polly: she was going to be out of town for a while. She had no idea how long.

"So that's it, then?" Polly had said, crossing her arms and sitting back on the bed. "Kicking me to the curb, love?"

"No way," Cassie had said, sounding more defensive than she had intended to. "It's just work."

"Right," Polly had said, and began getting dressed.

"No, don't go," Cassie said. "Wait--"

"I get the hint, Cass," Polly said, buttoning her blouse. "Fucking women--you're supposed to be different than guys, ya know? Not just into casual flings."

"Polly, this isn't like that," Cassie said. She bit her tongue, because she was seconds away from saying "I love you." She didn't even know if that was true--she wasn't sure WHAT she felt for Polly. But she knew it was strong, and she knew saying "I love you" might keep Polly happy.

But she remained silent.

And Polly had stormed out.

Waiting for the plane, Cassie had relayed the story to Henry.

"It's for the best," Henry had said softly. "Personal relationships don't belong in this business."

He was right, of course. Yet Cassie had spent the entire, lengthy flight feeling miserable, and getting plastered of of watered-down vodka tonics.

Now here she was, in Russia, hung-over, exhausted and heart sick. The last thing on her mind was saving Samantha Snow. She just wanted to crawl into a warm bed and shut out everything.

Out of the snow stepped a young woman. She was exotic and gorgeous, with straight black hair beneath a fur hat. She wore black-rimmed glasses that framed her crystal clear eyes.

"Ms. Clack?" the woman asked with a thick Russian accent.

"Yes," Cassie said. "Are you my contact?"

"Yes," the woman said, nodding. "Natasha Petroff."

She stuck out a hand sheeted in a black leather glove and Cassie shook it.

"Come," Natasha said. "I have a car waiting for you."

They rode through the increasingly heavy snow. Cassie pressed her aching head against the cool glass of the passenger window.

"How was flight?" Natasha asked, lighting a black cigarette.

"Long," Cassie said. "Very, very long."

"Henry tells me a lot about you."

"Oh?" Cassie said, not really listening.

"He says you are very talented. And pretty. I can see he was right about second part, at least. The first part is remained to be seen."

"Mmm," Cassie said, her eyes shut tight.

They arrived at the hotel, which was huge and white and lit up like a birthday cake. Natasha escorted Cassie up to the room Henry had booked for her. The room was big and well furnished. Cassie went right to the minibar and poured herself a tumbler of Russian vodka. She knocked back a drink and gasped.

"Christ, that's strong," she muttered.

"Yes," Natasha said, shutting the door. "We Russian's know our vodka."

Natasha peeled off her gloves and took off her fur overcoat, revealing a dynamite body. She wore skin-tight leather pants, stiletto heeled leather boots, and a long-sleeved leather blouse that clung to her like plastic wrap and displayed two voluptuous breasts.

"I suppose you want to get started," Natasha said. "I can fill you in on details."

Cassie wasn't paying attention to this. She was paying attention to the warm vodka coursing through her blood, and her misery, and Natasha's sexy body.

Natasha was talking, going on and on about "the mission", but Cassie cut her off.

"You're gorgeous," Cassie said.

Natasha smiled, not missing a bit. "So I have heard."

"Come here," Cassie said, throwing off her coat.

Natasha continued to smile. "Don't you want to get to work, Ms. Clack?"

Cassie went to her and put her hands on Natasha's hips. "I am working," she said.

She planted a firm, wet kiss on Natasha's luscious lips. Natasha kissed back, sliding her tongue into Cassie's mouth.

"I want you to fuck me," Cassie said.

"Now is not the time," Natasha said. "Ms. Snow is in need of you."

"She can wait," Cassie muttered. "Look, I just broke up with the girl I've had the longest, most meaningful relationship with. To come here, to fucking freezing cold Russia, to save some spoiled brat. I am drunk, and cold, and miserable, and I want you to smother me with your pussy."

Natasha pushed Cassie back and Cassie fell onto the bed.

"Take off panties," Natasha said.

Cassie reached up under her skirt and pulled off her panties and tossed them to the floor.

"Touch yourself," Natasha said. Cassie began to finger her clit, her eyes fixed on Natasha.

Natasha peeled off her leather pants, and a thong, and climbed onto the bed, straddling Cassie.

"This will NOT be serious," Natasha said in a serious tone. "This is strictly business."

"Whatever," Cassie said. "I want to taste you."

Natasha pressed her pussy into Cassie's face and Cassie began to tongue and lick her. Natasha moaned, throwing her head back and reaching back to rub Cassie's breasts.

Cassie licked and sucked, turned Natasha over, tongued her asshole. Slid her fingers up into her cunt and felt the increasing wetness.

Natasha took a candle from a near-by candlestick and slid it into Cassie's pussy, up and down vigorously. Cassie moaned in ecstasy. And she thought, even as she began to orgasm, "Fuck you, Polly. You made me do this."

to be continued...

[esercito sconfitto]

I posted this story on request of a member of this board

as matter of fact, I believe the very first scene can be considered as related to ...well, to us

anyway, if any other member complains about the presence of this novel, I'll remove it