Agent TANG Saves The Penis From Extinction free porn video

"Agent TANG and the Island of Lesbos"

A rip roaring, bosom heaving thriller with plenty of gratuitous sex: Written, published and distributed by Tim1936 at the cost of ten orgasms per copy. Get your copy from all good De Sade bookshops .
Chapter One: Agent TANG gets her assignment.
It had been a few months since I had been required to do any work for the TANG spy agency, when I received an urgent email requesting my services as a matter of National importance; So, here I am outside the door of the penthouse office of the Master of TANG, butterflies in my tummy with a wet pussy in anticipation of the Master checking on my loyalty and fitness for the new assignment.
I should explain that TANG is the acronym of the Tarty And Nubile Gamine spy agency, and for the preservation of our personal anonymity we are all called TANG, unlike Bond we do not need numbers as we work solo and in isolation of each other, though the Master does often refer to us by our real name in face to face meetings.
My pussy is freshly shaved, knickerless and only just covered by the shortest of short ‘pussy pelmet’ mini-skirts: After all, I have to be ready to seduce a man at a moment’s notice for the good of Queen and Country. My braless breasts heave and strain against the flimsy cotton blouse that I had chosen to enhance my seductive powers.
I knock. “Come”. I enter. The Master is relaxing in an easy chair, open suede shirt, white Captain’s jeans, glass of wine in hand. “Thank you for coming so quick Miss….: Please display”.
My training has prepared me for this instruction ‘Display’: I stand before the Master, legs as far apart as I can manage without losing my grip on the carpet, my skirt rides up to my waist exposing my hairless cunt, I put my hands behind my head and thrust my breasts forward, a button bursts away from the flimsy material, I start to tremble. All part of my test to ensure I have done my training.
I keep myself so presented and motionless. The Master leans forward, breathes in the perfume from between my legs: The fingers of his free hand gently trace round the contours of my mons, up and down either sides of my pussy lips, I can feel the wind chill effect of his breath on my clit, my clit becomes a turgid nubbin of throbbing flesh, I can feel my own sex juice start to flow, he plays with my swollen nubbin: He holds the wine glass between my legs and catches my first drip of pussy dew, stirs the contents with his forefinger and then in one shove the same finger is deeply encunted in my sopping wet cunt. The command comes, as I knew it would, “Grip”. I tense all the muscles in my love tube as I clamp down hard on the Master’s finger: I have trained hard for this instruction, keeping a three pound dildo in me for at least ten minutes!! He smiles, pulls his finger out with a sloppy plopping sound.
“And your oath of allegiance to, Country, Agency and Master”. I get down on all fours, raise my bottom with my legs parted so that my exposed cunt is facing the Master, and recite my oath of allegiance “My body belongs to the Master ……”, This takes me all of twenty minutes, at the end of which I can feel the Master’s rock hard manhood rubbing against my over excited cunt, without any further words I ease back and claim my orgasm reward. “Face”, I turn round and let the Master cum all over my face in great squirts of warm man juice.
“Good girl, you have not lost any of your seduction powers. You are declared mission fit. Now clean yourself up and come and sit by me”
I wipe the man goo from my face and lick it off my fingers, a quick check in a mirror and a little make up, composure regained, I take my seat beside the Master. He pours me a glass of wine.
“Now listen carefully, this will be your most difficult seduction assignment yet: The people of Lesbos have elected a new asexual King, an International master criminal, believed to have ownership of the missing anti-testosterone-sarin from China. They have threatened to release this on the world to emasculate all men unless their demands for money are met. Your job is to seduce him and gain control of the sarin”.
“You mean, I have to go undercover, pretend to be a Lesbian and then seduce their asexual leader!! – not going to be easy Sir”.
“You will be attached to the Faroe Island Women’s Trade Delegation, they have been invited to Lesbos to demonstrate their new range of strap on and related sex toys. There is £50,000 in this envelope, should be enough to get you started”
“But, Sir. I do not know anything about being a lesbian, all my training has been to seduce men. I have not ever batted for the other team”.
“Now, don’t be so modest, we have you file remember, or should I remind you about the dalliances you had at University. Anyway, to some extent I must agree with you: So I have given the matter some thought, and this is what you will do: You will spend the weekend with my secretary Melanie, she plays for both teams. Best I can do at such short notice. Just bear in mind that the Delegation are all 100% committed to the Lesbian cause. You will join them on Monday”.
“But ….” I started to stammer. Today was Friday!!
“No buts. Now I want to watch you play with yourself, nice and slow. And, if you are a good girl I will let you have one more penile orgasm before you become committed to plastic”.
I sigh, but at the same time I am impressed by the overwhelming generosity of the Master, never before had I been given two penile penetrations by him in one interview. I take off my blouse and skirt, bend over presenting my bottom, reach up between my parted thighs and gently start stroking myself from puckered rosette to clit. It is very exciting knowing that he is keenly staring at my every action. My other hand rubs at my breasts, raising my nipples into burgeoning florets.
I feel my cunt start to respond, the warmth spreading through my body, as I slowly part my lips and insert first one then two fingers. I can hear the squelching sound from around my fingers, I can smell the sexual aroma as my pheromones waft into the air.
“Kneel in the chair”, I eagerly do as commanded, pushing my bum high and my thighs apart, burying my face in the musky male smell of the cushions. Eight inches of firm maleness pound into me in one shove knocking the breath out of me, I squeal, I nearly cum. I can feel his balls against my sensitive flesh, and then the slow rhythmic pounding begins, on and on he goes, is there no satiating the man! I orgasm. I orgasm. I orgasm. I feel the twitch of his penis as the vinegar strokes start, we explode together, I feel my bladder go and I pass out.
I come to in a heap on the floor. The Master is using my blouse to mop up all my sexual discharges!! “You had better get dressed, not that it will be staying on for long, Melanie is waiting for you in her office – have a good weekend, and do exactly as she instructs. Ring me on Monday when you land in the Faroes”.
I put on my piss and cum soaked blouse, step into my skirt, grab the money and my handbag. I manage to mutter a “Yes Sir” as I totter out, feeling as though I have spent seven years in the saddle!!

Chapter Two: The Weekend Training
How was I going to manage, no more penis for the foreseeable future!! I tottered into Melanie’s office, a respectable looking matronly sort in her early thirties, dressed in a business suit, with an air of bossy aloofness and self-confidence. No prizes for guessing which role she would have in a girl on girl relationship.
“Ah agent TANG, the Master has told me about your special needs training, you had better be worth it, I have put my whole weekend on hold just for you”
“I am sorry….” “Don’t apologise, might even enjoy playing with you sweetie, right follow me in your car and then we can get down to lesbianising you”
I did as told and followed her, we weaved in and out of traffic to her small cottage on the outskirts of town. I wondered if she had considered that I had not packed an overnight bag, no toiletries or a change of clothing, nothing. I parked up behind her and followed her into the cottage.
“Ok, These women of Lesbos are not going to be playing, they are for real so you are going to have to be for real. What experience do you have of licking and playing with pussy?”
I said something about it being in my file, she said she was not privileged to read files, so I told her about my brief, and rather drunken exploits at University. I could tell she was not impressed.
“I have some friends coming over tomorrow, they will be the first test of what I am going to teach you”.
“Yes, maam”. My god I felt like I was back at boarding school being bullied by over-zealous nuns.
“Now, your main problem is going to be one of stimulation. Everything else you can probably play act and pretend. But you will be spotted a mile off if your body does not respond to the sexual manipulations of a woman. Any thoughts?”
I felt like saying no, but that would not sound very professional. “I shall picture the Master’s cock and pretend to myself that it is him who is arousing me, with my eyes shut it should not be too hard”.
“Could work for a naturally juicy wanton strumpet like you – and it is obvious from your looks and demeanour that you would be playing the role of the submissive” Clothes off, want you naked.
I took my clothes off and without being asked I leant over the kitchen table proffering my rear. “My my, you are keen to learn”. Hands rummaged about between my legs, fingers penetrated my two holes, I let out a gasp. “Hmmm, can’t tell if I am doing anything for you, your still so wet from your interview with the Master” She picked up my discarded smelly blouse, wrapped it around two fingers and forced it into my cunt, I wriggled about at this intrusion. “Keep still, or I’ll never get you dry”. She grabbed my hand and shoved it into her crutch, “Feel that dampness, see, I am naturally getting excited from playing with you”.
“We just have enough time for a quick lesson before we need get anything to eat, come on up to the bedroom”.
I feel like a lamb being led to the slaughter, but this is my job, I am a TANG agent, and I am being well paid. I follow her upstairs, I follow into the bedroom. A four poster with manacles already placed and ready at each of the posts, except they appear to be set in ratcheted slides within the solid oak posts.
“On your back sweetie and spread ‘em”. I obey, Melanie fits me with wrist and ankle cuffs that clip into the manacles. She pumps the ratchets at the foot end of the bed and my legs are raised and locked in position, I am pulled that taut that I have no movement left.
Melanie takes off all her clothes. “Nice of the Master to trust me with this little extra job, not often I get the chance to be my dominant self, so you are in for it girlie” She squats down with her sweaty cunt clamped on my mouth, facing my feet, I can barely breathe with my nose wedged in between her arse cheeks. “Now start with licking my clit”.
I gasp for air, and start learning how to lick clit, her instructions flow: ‘Flick the end’, ‘lap it up and down’, ‘suck it’, ‘gently nibble her’. I try to pretend to myself that I am doing this to the glans of the Master’s cock. I can taste her salty muskiness mixed with a hint of pee. “Very good”, she eases forward a bit, I breathe easier, “Now, lick her out”, I try, “Not like that - start with the lips”. “That is it, suck them into your mouth one after the other, chew the ends gently” I feel them swell in my mouth, But I still prefer to feel a penis expand in my mouth. “Now ease your tongue in, make like a cat lapping the cream”. I do as I am told.
Now she leans forward and I feel her fingers start to play with my cunt, she has two fingers working frantically in me. My body betrays me and I start to get sexually wet, I renew the licking of Melanie’s cunt with a renewed vigour, I get into the rhythm as I feel her body respond, and then she starts to jerk, she forces down hard on my mouth, her fingers really working my cunt, then she stops all rigid and squirts all over my face, grinds round on my face and then pulls away. I thought – ‘what a bitch, she has cum and left me high and dry, a man would not do that’.
“So, you don’t like girls!! Could have fooled me. Nice tongue action, and it sure got your pussy wet, shame you didn’t cum, ha ha”. I am released from the bed and given a diaphanous house coat to wear. She supplies drinks and orders a take away meal. We watch a bit of TV.
“Bedroom, lesson two” I arouse my sleepy wine filled self to follow her to the bedroom, but this time I am instructed to bend over the end of the bed and stick my arse up in the air. “Now you get your reward”. She shows me a rather large black knobbly dildo attached to a belt device – the strap-on! She enharnesses herself in the device, two fingers probe my cunt.
“Penis alone will not stretch this, you need a good girls hand in there, have to see how far we get, this should do to start with” And with that she slowly introduced the black monster into my over stretched cunt. “Don’t you have any lube” I called out. “No, up to you to get wet and provide your own lube – a lot of those Lesbos Doms like it rough, they like to hear you squeak”, she withdraws the monster, and then it starts its inevitable onward journey into the depths of my womb. I had had some big man meat in my time, but this was way beyond anything my poor little cunt had ever had to accommodate: As a gesture of sympathy Melanie spat on the invader to ease its passage as it ploughed its furrow back and forth in my cunt.
It was probably only a few minutes, but it felt like eternity, she reached forward and pinched my nipples, ground herself and the monster as hard as she could, and then I felt it start to happen. My cunt responded, a warm feeling, and an easing as my juices started to lubricate the invasion. I frantically dreamt it was a big black penis invading me, shut my eyes and drifted into my own fantasy. The inevitable happened, I convulsed, bucked my hips and had a very violent orgasm. Melanie clapped her hands and called me ‘anybody’s whore’. She withdrew the monster, and my cunt felt strangely empty.
“Now it is your turn” She took off the strap-on, and, I with weak knees managed to enharness myself in the device. We effectively swapped places and I did unto her as she had done unto me: Only difference, her stretched cunt had no problem accommodating the black invasion, and she very soon orgasmed.
“That will do for today, a good start, don’t you think. Bath and bed”. And so it was, the warm bath water was a great relief to my abused cunt, a few more wines and we drifted off to sleep in the same bed.
Saturday morning was spent in learning about rimming a girl’s arse and using a strap-on anally, thank god it was a lot smaller than the vaginal brute I had endured the previous evening. I am afraid to say that the anal work did very little to stimulate me, though I did not mind having my rosette rimmed. We also had some massage and gentle kissy cuddle play, again not a great turn on for me, except to say that any tactile work of a caressing nature is of itself pleasant enough.
We had a light lunch and readied ourselves for the afternoon guests. A couple, similar to Melanie and I in age and in dom/sub matters. Fortunately for my, now rather sore, cunt, they were very heavily into pussy grinding and clit vibrating, and I did not have to endure another dildo invasion. I still had to be restrained on the four poster bed, as they took it in turns to grind their pussies against my cunt and then apply the Hitachi vibrator to my clit, they applied it unceasingly and mercilessly, I was allowed no respite between orgasms, on and on they made me cum. They laughed at my wet response ‘As if a man could honestly make you cum like this’ – I did not counter this suggestion, though I knew different, especially with a man like the Master. I had to lick out both guests cunt and then the ordeal was over.
I really felt prepared now for anything the women of Lesbos could throw at me. Melanie had different ideas. After her friends had taken their leave, I thought I would be released from the four poster, but, oh no. Melanie came back into the bedroom with a pump, she proceeded to pump out my entire cunt so that it looked like the balls hanging off the back of a prize farm Boar, she pumped out my nipples and tied my breasts till they went purple. Then to my horror she urticated me, whipped my swollen sore over sensitive cunt and breasts with stinging nettles. I screamed and she forced an old pair of her soiled knickers in my throat and told me not to be such a baby. A freshly peeled ginger dumbbell was forced into my bum hole, held in place by its own shape, it burned horribly, I could not find anything sexual in these pursuits.
“Now you are beginning to learn what these Lesbos Doms will do for their sexual gratification; Can you imagine what they do to a man before they castrate him?”
I am then subjected to the not so gentle shocks of an E-Stim machine: I am surprised that my abused sexual parts can even feel anything else, but, oh yes, they can as I flex about on the bed straining at my restraints. The ratchets are jacked up so that I am lifted entirely off the bed. Melanie strokes my swollen cunt with a leather belt.
“I am not going to use this, but I leave it to you to imagine the effect it would have on your cunt when fully exposed like this. And, also be prepared for some of the real sadists, they like to use hot wax to fill your pussy, apply cigarettes to sensitive inner parts, needles to the breasts and just imagine the effect of some pure Mexican pepper oils being applied to your clit”
I could not believe that a woman could treat another woman in the severe and extreme manner that Melanie had outlined. Make mental note that if anything like this happens I want another £50,000. Melanie released me from my shackles and various torments, she gently bathed me, we drank some wine and fell asleep in each others arms.
Sunday morning soon came and it was time to thank Melanie for preparing me for what I hoped would be a worst case scenario. She ‘lent’ me a fresh skirt and top, I made my leave and went home. I had to pack, get my plane booked and clear my diary for at least a week; Not to mention the application of salve to my abused parts. The Master phoned to tell me he had spoken to Melanie and believed that I was fully prepared. Wished me good luck and reminded me that the future of male kind depended on me.

Chapter Three: The Trade Delegation

When I got home I found the customary brown envelope waiting for me. So I was to be Miss Tamsin Bridges, not a bad name. Passport, Green Visa for Entry to Lesbos, Driving Licence and her purse with usual receipts and personal effects. Not a bad looking girl similar in age and appearance to myself. She had been recruited as one of three girls to model and demonstrate the new range of Faroe Island sex toys.
I wondered what had happened to the real Tamsin, would she be released unharmed once this was all over? And, above all was the TANG agency sure that no one on the Trade Delegation or in Lesbos had met or knew the real Tamsin. I put these idle thoughts aside and carried on with the business in hand, booked flight in the name of Miss Tamsin Bridges, packed clothes and make-up that looked to be commensurate with the image portrayed by Tamsin. Ordered take-away, had one of my rare cigarettes and went to bed early.
Early start, have to be at Manchester for the half eight to Heathrow: taxi gets me there just in time, I only have a small in flight bag of girlie essentials!, so, no time wasted checking in luggage. Just manage one quick drink in the executive lounge before we are called for boarding, though I do manage to catch the eye of a rather smart African male, all expensively suited and coiffured.
I stretch out in my executive class seat, and then my heart misses a beat: The Black guy has the lounger next to mine!! I pretend not to notice that his plumbing is causing his knees to look knobbly, I decide there and then that I must have that in me as the last good male fuck before my lesbian pretend has to be enacted. I convince myself that I am not a slut, that seducing him is all part of my training as a TANG agent!
I wrap my blanket around myself and feign the deep breathing of someone sleeping, then in a very nonchalant manner I let my right hand flop out across his lap and fall between his legs. Slowly I stroke his manhood, still pretending to be sleeping. Fortunately for me the guy is not an idiot and very quickly sees through my little seduction scenario: Before I know it he has his blanket wrapped about us and two fingers firmly implanted in my cunt. I keep up my sleeping pretence, though my cunt is anything but asleep. Shame it is such a short trip, I have not even cum and the landing procedure is being announced: he withdraws his hand, I turn round to face him, take his hand and suck my juices from them. He tells me he has a two hour stop-over at Heathrow: wow, what a coincidence so do I. We both head straight for the executive lounge lavatories, where he sits on the pan and I lower my sopping cunt onto his ebony rod …..
The boarding for the flight to Vagar is called, I make my way in an unsteady over fucked gait, bet they think I am drunk. I have used my scarf to clean up between my legs and then tied it around my waist. I need a drink. I am the only passenger travelling executive to Vagar, so the drinks trolley is placed by my seat, I start to look for the G and T. “No no, you tell what want I pour for you”. I love that broken English with an Eastern accent. I indicate the G and T, plenty of tonic and ice. She leans over me to place the drink on my side tray, in itself a rather unnecessary incorrect move, her breasts are inches away from my face and obviously trying to escape from their restrictive uniform clothing. “You nice musky smell”. ‘Nice musky smell’ I thought, can’t she tell I stink of mixed sex orgasm juices – or perhaps she can!
Oh well, in for a penny in for a pound, better start practicing my girl on girl seduction skills. My right hand, of its own volition of course, reaches up between her legs and makes a grab for her cunt. Horror, I find I am holding on to a bag of nuts and washers, my hand retracts. “You no like, you sexy, I show”. She pulled up her skirt and pulled her knickers down. “bloody hell, you could stock a hardware shop on your own”. “You touch, make sensitive”.
Well, I was intrigued and more than interested, so yes I took her up on her offer. She stood in front of me legs apart and let me examine all her metal work: Three heavy rings in each inner pierced labia, one through her clit, two through her clit hood and a bar vertically threaded down each outer puffy labia with a little padlock holding them together at the bottom. “Boyfriend he have key, no trust me stewardess. Have breasts same”, with that she released her bra, unbuttoned her uniform blouse and thrust her tits at me. Yes she had same, each nipple had a bar piercing and spiral extender attached. I invited her to sit next to me so that we could play with each other – all in the interests of furthering my TANG training. Her boyfriend had not done a very good job, as I was able to squeeze two fingers pass his padlock and enter her body, I am sure a penis could have done the same, or surely could have used her arse!! We both manage copious sexual outpourings of fluid and orgasms, I could be getting to enjoy this, not that I could ever give up on a penis! The pilot is shouting something in Danish over the intercom, I think we are going to land. My personal Stewerdess frantically adjusts her dress and repeats the appropriate announcement in several languages.
As we circle over Vagar you can see the whole of the Faroe Islands, it is teatime, lights are coming on in the houses, and down we go as the ground magnifies and rushes to meet us. We land, I take hold of my bag and glance down at the seats, oh dear – two very obvious dark damp patches, I cover them with the blankets and wonder if the back of my skirt shows a corresponding patch. I disembark, complete the standard airport formalities and go to the taxi rank: “Foroyar Hotel Please”. I hear someone running up behind me shouting “Please”, a stunning brunette wobbles forward on high heels: “Please, Foroyar Hotel, can we share?”
It is not a huge leap of judgement to guess that she is going to be one of the other models to help demonstrate the Faroan range of sex toys. “Tamsin, Tamsin Bridges, How do you do” I proffer my hand. “Ta, Penny Fitzpussey, charmed I’m sure”, she ignores my proffered hand and gets into the taxi. “Yu cumin or what?” Yes, I thought, I have done a lot more ‘cumin’ in executive than she could have dreamed of in steerage. For a moment I really did consider slamming the taxi shut and saying, no thanks I’ll get the next one; But, Then I thought: I do not know anyone, so this common Trollope could be a useful ally and friend.
“I was the only one from my agency who volunteered for this gig, just fallen out with boyfriend, and £500 is a lot of money just to let other girls watch me demonstrate a vibrator”. “Yes, I just go when and where my Mast’Boss sends me, it’s in my modelling contract”. Have to watch that, but I do not think she spotted my near ‘Master’ slip. Some insignificant ‘get to know you’ chit chat ensued and we were soon at the Foroyar.
I reported at the reception desk to discover that Trollope and I were sharing a twin suite, We were both told to report to the executive conference room ASAP. I said I was hungry and was told they had a selection of sandwiches in the conference room, and that the kitchen had a night chef. I really needed a shower, I must have smelt like the morning sheets from an over popular brothel!
We entered the conference room, and yes, there was a selection of sandwiches and soft drinks on one table: But, what really caught my eye was the other long table neatly laid out with all sorts of dildo/vibrators – short fat ones, long thin ones, knobbly ones, bent ones, bristly ones, huge ones, strap-on dildo belt mounts, and more than I could take in. I thought what is the big deal, so they are made to a high quality specification in the Faroe Islands – so what, what made these so special.
There was a group of five woman chatting by the end of the dildo laden table, the besuited and bespectacled older woman raised her hand to stop conversation when we entered. “Ah, finally we are all here, excellent. For the benefit of the late arrivals I shall make the introductions: I am Ms Dorter Siegfrindson, I am the Secretary of State for Sexual Satisfaction and I shall be leading this small Trade Delegation to Lesbos, assisted by my junior minister Ms Gerta Borgson. This is Miss Carol Fascisto, she like you two are the models (I thought: Oh yer, except she is a big leather clad Dyke and we are petite lambs to the slaughter). This is Mr Johann Godfriegson, do not be fooled by his appearance he does just qualify as male, the owner of the Faroe Island Sex Toy Company; And finally Johann’s head of R and R the delectable Ms Lotta Ovvagina. Any Questions”.
I put my hand up: “Oh, sorry which one are you?” “Tamsin Bridges”. “I am sorry we have rushed you in here, but we really must get these preparations completed, then you can relax. Now what was it you wanted to ask”.
“These toys, well what makes them so special? I have seen and played with very similar models that can be bought in any high street sex department store”
“I am glad you asked that. Lesbos have developed a method of cloning female embryos and planting them in the wombs of their women, thus by-passing the need for the inferior male to propagate the species: And, like women the world over they do enjoy sex and orgasms. The remit of Johann’s company was to create sex toys that would combine these two functions. Ms Lotta, would you explain”
Ms Lotta picked up a rather large black dildo and handed it to me “Notice anything different about it” I damned near dropped it! “Yes, it is a lot heavier than anything I have ever played with”. “Correct, now examine it closely”. I did and noticed a very small hole in the end that replicated a small urethral hole of a real penis. “It has a hole in the end like a real penis, and the battery cap looks odd”
“We took the idea from the old fountain pen, the kind c***dren used to squirt each other. A bladder containing the cloned embryonic fluid is inserted like so, at the point of orgasm the lady presses this button and the powerful Lithium batteries operate a solenoid forcing the fluid into her womb in the manner of a real penile ejaculation, but unlike man’s pathetic offering this remains erect”
Johann cut in: “We do two versions of each, the more expensive remote control wireless version and the cheaper button on an electric lead version. The bladders are washable and of course they could be filled with any cream sperm type substance just to give the experience of feeling that squirt inside them”
Ms Dorter continued: “The aim is to sell a quantity of the bladders to the Lesbos Government, who would release them to their doctors to fill with cloned embryonic fluid. These would be by medical prescription only. But our main source of income would be selling the new range of sex toys with empty bladders to the general population through the Lesbos Government sponsored distribution company”
“I am sure you girls know all about deriving self-pleasure from the use of such toys, so who wants to go first? I wish I had volunteered, but Trollope got in first “Me, me, me, me”.
“By deduction you must be Penny Fitzpussy from the Dublin modelling agency. Take a seat in the easy chair, knickers off, legs apart. Carol would you do the honours” Carol took the dildo I had been examining and advanced on Trollope “Someone give her the remote control button”.
Just like me, Trollope was freshly shaved: First Carol gave her a peck on the cheeks and then moved down for a quick tongue lashing, Trollope moaned as first one then two fingers entered making that familiar squelchy sound of an over excited wet cunt. She took her fingers out and replaced them with the Dildo, held firmly in one hand she started to rock it back and forth into the sluts sloppy cunt, the other hand started to rub furiously at the poor girls clit. It did not take long before Trollope squealed and thrashed about arching her back (And almost forgot to press the ejaculation release button) in the throes of a very powerful orgasm. “I want one, I want one, I gotta get me one of these. That realistic squirt is amazing”
“Well, I was going to suggest, that if all goes well and we get the contracts, and if you agree Johann, I was going to let the girls keep the demonstrator models” “Yes of course, good idea, a little incentive for them”.
“Gerta, perhaps you would like to let Tamsin experience the new ejaculating douche model”
“Tamsin, if you would be so kind as to get on the floor on all fours and ‘present’ your rear, you are in for a thrill” Cushions are placed on the floor for our knees, and I take up my position. I look back and see that Gerta has enharnessed herself with a strap-on, she looks ridiculous, self-conscious and still clothed. “No, you stupid girl, take your clothes off and do it properly” When I next look back, she still looks ridiculous, but at least she is naked with big floppy tits: I am given a small button wireless control to hold in one hand, and off we go.
Gerta is obviously not in her element, she spits in the general direction of my cunt and clumsily tries to work it round my cunt as some sort of lubricant. I close my eyes and imagine it is the Master behind me slowly stroking his massive rod ready to impale me, a finger finds my clit and starts rubbing it as if she is trying to erase a piece of unwanted pencil work. I am still not really wet when she starts to introduce the large squishy bulbous vibrating dildo into me. At least she is putting it in my cunt and not my arse, must be grateful for small mercies. Now comes the pretend part of my training, but no shit Sherlock, this is going to get sore if I do not get some more cunt juice into the equation – do I even have any left after my earlier activities. Fortunately my imagination goes for overdrive, flitting between the recent black mamba and the Master’s weapon. I am grateful to Gerta’s lack of experience, in that she fails to notice my poor initial response.
The poor woman settles into a rather staid back and forth rhythm, about as sexually exciting as trying to cool rice pudding by quiffing on it. Good job I know what they are expecting and have been trained to recreate the movements and noises of a genuine orgasm: So I give it my best Shakespearean performance, writhe about and then press the button. ‘Woosh’ “Fuck Me – Jesus what the fuck”. I had never had a water grenade explode inside me before, but this is what I imagined it would be like. My whole lower body is inflated, the dildo is blown out of my cunt and there is sticky creamy stuff everywhere, my eyes are watering with shock and my cunt lips are trembling in fright.
“So, Ms Tamsin, what do you think of our douche version, holds half a litre, quite impressive don’t you think, try and find a man who could match that, ha ha ha”. Laid on the floor in a puddle of artificial spunk and stinking of the real stuff, I do manage to give a thumbs up.
“Ok, girls, if there are no more questions, we’ll call that a day. Johann – Thank you for showing us your product. Looks like we have a winner. Right, you girls are booked for breakfast at eight, the taxi will pick you up at nine. The rest of you be at Vagar for half nine.”
I grabbed my bag and ran off, I was certainly going to be first in our shower, then food with a bloody good bottle of wine, a stiff nightcap and bed. Just hoped that Trollope didn’t have any sexual intentions towards me, or at least not to night!! So far so good. My Tamsin cover was unchallenged.
Chapter Four: Lesbos – The sale
I awaken to the feeling of something going on between my legs, resisiting the temptation to clamp shut, I realise that Trollope is trying to get at me, so I lazily part my legs and permit her full access to that which she desires.
There is a loud banging on the door: “You pussies coming for breakfast or what?” It is the stentorian voice of butch Carol. Trollope shouts “Bugger off” and jumps off me. Fuck it is nearly eight o’clock. “Hope we are still sharing a hotel room tonight, you taste good”.
My sugar levels are low so I opt for the full English, the other two girls have continental, and leave me to finish on my own. Hell, it is nearly nine o’clock. I rush up to get my bag – Dyke and Trollope are already in the lobby waiting for the taxi.
I gather my wash bag things and toiletries, throw them in my valise. I notice a scrap of paper left on top of my things in the valise. I read it: ‘Do not let her get her head between your legs’ scrawled in fast written handwriting. I wonder what that means, is someone jealous, who could have written it, and was it a warning? No time to think further, must be there for the taxi.
Taxi is bang on time. We all exchange ‘Good morning’ pleasantries with the rest of the group. The plane to Mytilene is on time. We are all travelling as a group in basic business class, Greta is sat next to me. Johann and his R and R girl are opposite, Trollope and Dyke are sat behind them. Miss Bossy Boots is behind Greta and I.
I start to read the standard intro tripe ‘Welcome to Lesvos/Lesbos’, ‘We declared U.D.I from Greece twelve years ago to be a self-governing archipelagic state in the Aegean run by women for women …… blah di blah blah blah’ when Greta starts up her idea of conversation.
“Your not like the other two”.
“What do you mean”
“Your far too classy to be modelling sex toys for so little, who did you upset to land this assignment” I heaved a sigh of relief. I did not want to pursue this line of conversation, so I said “Didn’t sleep very well last night, do you mind if I get a couple of hours in flight sleep?” Greta got a book out of her pocket and I rolled over pulled up my blanket and failed to sleep – kept thinking about that scrap of paper – who had sent it and why?
Some light in flight tasteless food was served, and then dejavu, we are circling over an island, admittedly a very large island. The Mytilene airport speakers are all blaring out ‘Welcome to Lesbos’ in one language after another to some dreadful military background marching music. There is no shortage of Black Leather uniformed women marching about – obviously a state of heightened emergency.
We present our passports and green visas, I notice there is an I.C.H number on the visa, but think nothing of it. Our genitals are inspected and all declared testicle free – even Johann passes this test! “Can’t be too careful” the large matronly genital inspector says by way of apology for having to do her job. Now I understand the phrase ‘Does the Pope have Balls!’ We collect our bags and demo sample cases, which have been given special custom clearance due to the diplomatic nature of our Mission.
A minibus taxi takes us to the hotel Heliotrope, right on the beach. One can see the capital, Mytilene, in the distance. It all looks splendid, a superb holiday location – I am reminded of the three sis ‘Sun, Sex and Sand’, except this was not going to be my sort of sex!!
The receptionist, a very pleasant bubbly woman announces that it is her hotel and that she is very pleased to have been chosen to host our presence and meeting with her government. Yet again I get a twin suite shared with Trollope, well it could have been worse. The others are treated likewise, except for Miss Bossy Boots who gets an executive suite all to herself.
We are about to go to our rooms when Miss Bossy Boots gives us our instructions; “We will be meeting with the Lesbos Government people at their Ministry of Sexual Correction tomorrow at ten. So I suggest you relax, enjoy the hotel facilities, and if we could ALL meet for breakfast tomorrow at eight, that should give us plenty of time. So enjoy”
Trollope and I adjourned to our suite, I hardly get through the door before Trollope is kissing me and running her hands between my legs. Well, I am going to have to get through this at some stage, so the quicker I can orgasm her the better. Must keep her interest in the mouth to mouth kissing, or at least no lower than the breasts and nipple sucking. We collapse on the bed in a tumbling heap of female flesh trying to undress each other without losing our mouth contact point.
My god, Trollope has an incredibly wet cunt, is she really that turned on by me, must be. Her clit is stood to attention like one of my brother’s toy soldiers, it is hard, turgid and I can feel her pulse beat through it. We both get into a good clit and g spot finger routine, Trollope’s head starts to go down, I pull her to my breasts and whisper “nipples”. Not much time left before she will go for the next head descent. I increase my stimulation of Trollope’s cunt, I feel her start to clamp her cunt muscles and arch her back, so I follow her lead, she cums, I pretend to cum. Before she can go down on me I go down on her and lick her out as her orgasmic waves subside, she seems to really enjoy this. When she stops trembling I stop. I jump off the bed, “I’m going to shower and then take one of those pool side loungers, you coming”. “Nah, I’ll sleep off that dreamy pussy rush you’ve just given me and join you later, ta.”
I have a quick shower, put on a white cotton hotel peignoir and slippers, and make my way to the pool side. Everyone is naked except for the staff (all female of course) who wear skimpy bikini bottoms, colour coded (Red for pool attendants, Green for drink goffers, Blue for food goffers). I find a lounger that directly catches the last rays of afternoon sunshine: I signal red to have some suntan oil rubbed on me, and green to get a large G and T.
I settle down to my relaxation, when Dyke Carol arrives, mutters something about how idyllic this all is and takes up the lounger next to mine, before going quiet. Half an hour or so passes and it is only the two of us left in our corner of the pool.
“What sort of fucking half-cocked idiot are you, Miss TANG?” Carol moves her lounger closer to mine. “Excuse me, what are you on about?”
“The only advantage of your idiotic behaviour is that no one is looking at me. Oh sorry CIA”
“What do you mean idiotic behaviour, and was it you who put the note in my valise?”
“Yes, But I’ll get to the reason for that. You did not even make it pass the first hurdle. We liaised with your Master and he assured us that you would be in Lesbian mode, his secretary sorted you out for that.”
“Well, I bloody well have been, why only just this afternoon I did it with my room mate”.
“You are a naïve pussy whore, your master should have kept you for what you are good at – seducing men and setting the proverbial ‘Honey Traps’, because you are out of your fucking depth at anything more intelligent, you can’t even follow orders”
“Now hang on a minute, that’s a bit harsh”
“Look at it this way dumbo: This trade delegation thing is all legit and was planned months before the idea of threatening the world with male extinction, but we are the only group of foreigners that are being allowed any way near their top echelons. Did you not stop to think for one moment, that they would have a counter intelligence agency breathing all over us, especially the weak links, like us models”
“So”
“When you booked executive from Manchester, a certain black man upgraded to executive, my people were on the look-out for just such a move. He even had the time to spare at Heathrow: Well for someone pretending to be a lesbian, you sure went for that Californian red wood in his trousers, and blew yourself almost completely never mind his load, they still wanted to check in case you like it both ways”
“Oh, and?”
“Well, as you are a bit slow on the uptake I will spell it out for you. You booked ‘Executive’ from Heathrow to Vagar, heck the going rate for this jaunt was only £500 with hotels etc, you must have blown that just on the flight.”
“Hadn’t thought of that, didn’t think anyone would notice. Sorry”
“Don’t be sorry, I am really grateful, they are so focussed on you that I am slipping under the radar. Well Dublin noticed, and they did not want to draw attention to another up-grade, so they got you a ‘special’ Lesbos stewardess, must say you passed that one with flying colours”
“So what was the note all about?”
“Good god, you are more dumb than I thought. Was it your vagina that went to university or your arse hole? Who do you think that slut from Dublin is”
“From your inference she is not going to be just a slut from Dublin”
“Too damn right TANG, she is pure IRA, a senior party member responsible for liaison between the International Criminals, The IRA and The Executive Council of Lesbos”
“Fooled me, but why must she not get her head between my legs?”
“Were you not briefed? What do you think that ICH number is on your Green card visa?”
“I don’t understand?”
“You got that right. I have seen your file, all you understand is a penis and what fun you can get from it. ICH – International Clit Hood number, everyone who leaves Lesbos has one, that way they can check it is the same person coming back. Well, the real Tasmin, left Lesbos years ago to go in deep undercover. At least your master managed to pull the switch without arousing any suspicion, but they probably had not worked out the significance of the ICH number, we only did very recently, by comparing it to my green visa that says ‘Tourist Business Class valid for one week from date of stamping at entry’.”
“Ah, I see, or I think I see, you mean the Dublin girl will check my clit hood for the tattooed number hidden in the folds of skin ‘et voila’ proof positive that I can not possibly be Tamsin Bridges”
“You worked that bit out on your own, I am impressed, hope for you yet. Yer, took the real Tamsin about 240 volts to confess the significance of ICH, and a thorough body check!”
A green bikini is coming towards us, I signal for drinks, CIA says she will have whatever I am having. I order two large G and Ts. We wait until green bikini has brought us our drinks and left us alone.
“So what happens now?”
“They probably still have doubts about you, I do not believe that Tamsin has any remaining living relatives on the island that could embarrass you with awkward personal questions, and in any case the time line is far too tight. So under no circumstances let Dublin get into the folds of your clit hood. And another thing, they will not do anything until after the Trade Delegation has done its thing, both sides really want this deal, so they will not jeopardise that, but once the paperwork is signed, well, a missing model will just go unnoticed”.
I gulp down my G and T, my head spinning trying to cope with the volte face in my circumstances.
“And slow down on the drink, you need a clear head to keep Dublin, or anyone else at the modelling and demo tomorrow from having an opportunity to get at your clit hood”
“Got a needle and any tattoo ink?” I ask, somewhat lamely in an effort to be jocular, that is lost on my new American Ally.
“You really are nuts, or was that a joke? It’s done with micro lasers, there is no fucking way you are going to create that with a fucking needle and ink.”
“Could damage it with a ciggy butt, say my Master burnt me.”
“Now you are being daft, just keep them from checking on it. That asides do you have any plans for locating the anti-testosterone-sarin stuff”
“No, like you have already reminded me, I do not normally get beyond the fucking stage, so that is my plan, to seduce their King chappy, fuck him senseless and neutralise the sarin. And I am sticking to it. Why, what do you have”
“Oh, stupid as it may seem I have you and your plan, that is why you are here. So let’s hope that when push comes to shove your dainty little twat and powers of male seduction are going to work on an asexual castrate!! We didn’t work out an antidote, so what did you mean by ‘neutralise it’?
“Well, the guys I know from Portland Down and Aldermaston AWRE, suggested that half a pint of fresh sperm would do the trick: Oh, and a few drops of ‘jus de chatte’ to act as a catalyst”.
“Sounds plausible, but on an island of castrates and lesbians, where you going to get fresh sperm?
“Seems that that is where I am going to need your help, when we have chosen our freebies, the dildo suitcases will be empty, so we smuggle it away in them”.
“Now which ‘Oceans’ film did you see that in?”
“OK, so you come up with something better. And are you the real deal?”
“Yes, 100% Butch American Dyke who likes wearing leather, and I am going to have you – Boo!!. Well, now we know how to neutralise it, I’ll whistle up some of our Navy Seals, and you can fuck them all on the beach = Job done – now get some food in you and stop drinking, got any ciggies?”
CIA signals for a red bikini and we get a lit cigarette each, before separately going in for super.
It is a big airy well naperied dining room. Dublin, or Trollope, or IRfuckingA or Ms Penny Fitzpussy is already seated and beckons me to join her, which I do. There is a pianist playing the classics on a Grand set into a large alcove, there is a Hamster eating popcorn on the keys, it bounces up and down with the keys, am I that drunk? No it is real and certainly very different.
Bugger, there is an excellent wine list and I really fancy the ‘La Montrachet’ a Jadot 1985, and on expenses this would really compliment my Dover Sole, alas I resist the temptation and mentally pat myself on the head for being a responsible TANG, though, once Trollope has left the table, I do permit myself a single measure of the Domaine du Bonenfant 1834.
I am glad to learn that Trollope actually spent quite a bit of time in the gym and is ready to hit the sack, she tongue kisses me goodnight. I try to sleep, could have done with a bottle of wine, head spinning wondering what happens to me when it inevitably all goes pear shaped.
I sit in the back of the minibus between CIA and IRA, feeling very uncomfortable, they both keep glancing at me in that ‘I want to eat you’ way that I use to get the attention of men. We arrive in Mytilene and stop at the gates of the Ministry of Sexual Correction, do not like the sound of this place, a massive castellated building, no doubt equipped with torture dungeons and castration chambers!
We are let in by well-armed guards, we are given visitor badges, and an escort with an equipment trolley takes us to the lifts and on to the conference room.
There must be at least two dozen middle aged women milling about and waiting for things to begin, we are lead to the display tables, next to which are some divan day beds. As the milling women part to let us through I get my first glance of the far wall – Three, younger girls, are firmly secured in gynaecologist’s examining chairs, on their backs, knees bent and legs wide apart, totally naked, except for one who looks like one of her parents must have been an angora goat, I have never seen such a lush forest of pubes: Not difficult to work out their problem and their fate.
All sorts of mayoral regalia and badges of senior office glitter on the proud breasts of the gathered ladies: But, no sign of their King – Shit!
Johann directs us in unpacking and laying out the full range of ejaculating sex toys, and the accessories (batteries, the spare bladder sets, strap-on harnesses, different textured sheathes and ticklers etc). We are all introduced, Ms Lotta Ovvagina, gives her technical spiel, from filling the bladder to making the artificial penis ejaculate: Everybody claps and applauds, well, not the girls in the gynaecologist’s chairs!
Ms Siegfrindson shouts out: “Who wants to be first to try one?” A sea of hands go up, and the nearest six are asked to ready themselves on the divan beds. Three are given standard self-stimulating dildo vibrators. I am given a head harnessed dildo and lead to the first readily lubed and exposed cunt.
My god, the huge cavernous cunt takes it all in on the first thrust, such that my lips come into contact with her labia, my nose rubbing her clit. She pulls my hands up to make me play with her breasts: But, what is this, I feel someone behind me, my skirt is pulled up round my waist, my skimpy knickers are pulled to one side and fingers are exploring both my holes, not long before a double pronger dildo is slowly introduced into both my well lubed holes. Fuck it is a tight fit, as the double pronger controller see-saws one hole after the after to work each dildo in as far as she can; This has the effect of rocking me back and forth, so I have very little work to do, as I am thrusted into so I thrust forward with the head dildo – on and on we go building up a nice momentum of sexy sloppy sounds. My recipient tenses, I hear the click of the solenoid and she receives her artificial ejaculant. I await the double pronger to give me my ejaculant, but no such luck, its user has fitted herself with both a vaginal and anal vibrator and is too busy pressing her own buttons to be bothered with pressing the controls to my dual intruders.
I glance round to see that CIA is face fucking a woman whilst using a ‘cunt buster’ sized douche dildo on the cow’s vagina. IRA is using a standard knobbly to hand fuck her woman’s cunt, whilst she is having her cunt licked out by another woman who is pleasuring herself with a long womb tickler vibrator.
My next volunteer is a big black mama, a strong musky smelling body and tits like hot water bottles. And men think that Lesbos is inhabited by nubile nymphets wandering about naked in a permanent state of female sexual arousal! She indicates three vibrating dildoes from large to medium to sounding size, she pulls my head between her legs and orders me to lick, which I do, she tastes of stale piss, but I am grateful that I am still in this kneeling position, at least my clit is not going to be seen in any detail. Sure enough, my arse hole soon has to take another embuggerment, without any cunt stimulation. I deem mama to be licked out enough and give her the three dildo treatment she craves – Medium in her arse, large in her cunt and sounding in her urethra: I only have two hands and find it difficult to operate three separate items. “Stupid clumsy girl, if you were one of my castrates I would have you whipped. Now do the job you have been paid for” with that she squeezes out the streaked anal dildo, farts very loudly. “Well don’t stop, suck it clean and get it back in there” I do as I am told, nearly breaking my teeth due to my body being shoved about from the administrations to my rear end. I am bloody glad I am not in mama’s employ. Eventually I get to grips with the three handed problem and mama blows her load in shrills of excited laughter, piss and artificial ejaculant everywhere. “Now show me how to refill them – I wanna go again”
Mama is insatiable, I go two more rounds with her before someone more senior than her has to tell her to be fair and let someone else have ago: At the same time I am getting fisted, fingered and fucked in both holes by a countless stream of different sex toys, I still have not cum and am getting bloody frustrated – Oh what would I give for a nice firm penis, just one penis insertion and I would surely go over the top, please! I’ll just have to give myself a quick fingering, not even time for that.
Ms Siegfrindson claps her hands, “Right ladies and girls, sorry Johann, now that was easy. I have been asked to see what effect you can generate on these recalcitrant young girls who have some strange abnormality in their make-up. They only want to be fucked and inseminated by men”
“We have tried ‘persuasion’, electro shock therapy, d**gs, even extremes of torture: Nothing seems to work to cure them of their lack of lesbianism. Your toys might just do the trick, Johann”
“OK Choose your weapons girls and let’s see what a professional with the correct equipment can do”
This is more my territory, I can sympathise with a girl who wants a real penis, I know just the feeling she craves and how to make a man move to give me that effect. So I choose the most realistic penis looking dildo for size, shape, texture and natural veininess – it does not vibrate but it does flex realistically. I place the ejaculate bladder in a microwave for ten seconds. Now I have the best lifelike ersatz penis in the world, and I will gauge the exact moment at which a real man would explode for when I press the ejaculation button.
I move on my helpless smooth cunted victim, who I must appreciate is probably not feeling very sexy right now, She has been fully exposed for probably well over two hours in a room full of lesbians, she is mentally and physically cold. I think back, how does the Master and other successful conquests get me all randy – I am starting to turn myself on never mind my victim.
I begin with the neck and ear lobe nibbling, I get fully undressed and lay atop her as best as I can to impart my body warmth into her, I pull my spunk sodden scarf from my handbag and scrunch it into her nose, holding it there. Somebody says “That’s right suffocate the cock whore”. Victim looks at me weirdly and quizzically, I whisper in her ear. “We all want to come out of this looking good so you are going to enjoy this as much as me, now shut your eyes and dream of cock”, though the poor girl has probably never seen a real one, perhaps some underground magazine picture? She starts smiling, the male spunk pheromones are taking effect, she tries to raise her pubic bone to grind against me. I nibble her nipples and move down to play with her clit and g spot in the typical clumsy male manner, that a lot of girls do actually find quite exciting.
Here goes, dildo time. I rub the glans up and down her tight slit slowly parting her dewy petals, her cunt takes on a semihiant look and she starts to make little girlie mewling noises, with her eyes tight shut she wriggles as best as she can, given her restraints. I start to nudge the dildo forward as a loving penis would if it was trying to savour that moment of first entry, I pull back: Oh yes, we are in business, I can see her sex juices glistening against the pink synthetic flesh: Time to plough the furrow. I pretend to be the Master and adopt his varying gait of thrusting and withdrawing, of going deep and then just teasing with the tip, of taking it out and beating the clit, holding it in his hand and making the helmet rub all the way from anal rosette to belly button and back again, pausing over the vaginal entrance for just a little soupcon of entry before coming back to plunge the depths of her love tube. I am good, I pride myself at being able to replicate a man’s fucking technique: I get into the vinegar strokes, she trembles and follows me to her heaven, I thrust deep and hard, press the switch, make the dildo twitch and give one final shove. She screams, bucks against the chair and collapses back in an obvious state of sexual satiation.
My efforts are applauded with hoots of laughter, claps and words to the effect of ‘all she needed was a good penis substitute, a good dildo, now no one needs a man, let her go she is reborn’.
CIA is busily working her magic on the angora goat’s off spring, who appears to have some sort of mild orgasm. I thought it was a bit fake, but she did produce a lot of jus that made her silky pubes all shiny and glistening with diamond like dew drops. Still thought she was just playing along – have an orgasm and get her lesbian credentials back to get out of this place: Some of those torture burns on her breasts did look very painful.
Trollope was sweating away, apparently to no avail, her victim just lay there like a rag doll, unresponsive and frigid. There was no sheen to the nine inch scourer that was being used, Christ she has not even bothered to get the girl wet or used lube, what the hell is her game. I take pity on the girl: “Here let me have a go”
Trollope backs off: “Help yourself, the penis loving cunt is sexually dead from the brain down”. I pass the angora goat’s daughter and playfully help myself to good handful of her pubes, I pass this female self-lubricant to the dildo shaft and carry on where Trollope had left off. Victim smiles at me, as if to thank me, but, that is the only response I can elicit from her. I thought: ‘For fuck sake, just pretend, press the button and get it over with’. But no, this one is staunchly committed to her penis loving cause and is having none of it. I give up.
The Lesbos Attorney General and Johann do a lot of hand shaking, smiling and conversing. Papers are produced and pens apply signatures. Everybody looks extremely happy. Even the two released orgasmed ex-penis-lovers look happy. Victim number three still looks like a bag of squashed turds on a frosty morning: I hear the word ‘terminate’ come from one of the women with a lot of scrambled egg in her regalia directed at a lesser braided individual. Fuck, poor girl, that could only mean one thing in this harsh conform or else society.
Shit, time had flown, everyone was packing up to go home. A lot of the sample toys seemed to have mysteriously disappeared, not going to be much for Trollope to take away as a souvenir, and I did not even want one except for appearances. But, worst of all I had no idea where the King was or how to find out or how to get to him. And not a clue as to the whereabouts of the Anti-Testosterone-Sarin. In less than twenty four hours we would all be on our flight back to normal civilisations, and the extinction of the penis was still going to be a very real threat.

Chapter Five: Lesbos – I am undone.
We are all leaving the conference room; “Just a minute Ms Bridges, we wanted to say thank you for a great job well done” I faltered for a split second to respond to the nomenclature of Bridges. I shouted to the others: “You go on, I’ll be down in a minute”.
I had hardly taken one step back through the door when my right arm was grabbed and forced up my back. I went to scream and only managed to exasperate the situation by drawing in a lung full of c*********. The last thing I remember is thinking about my own stupidity at falling for that old chestnut.
I had visited some of the better Keeps in Britain, especially some like the Tower of London that still had authentic surroundings and equipment: With a very foggy head, I, at first, thought I must be dreaming, I am doing a tour of castles: But, as my head starts to clear I become aware of the reality of my situation. I am not a tourist, I am in deep dooh dooh, I am in the dungeons of a very fucking real castle ‘The Lesbos Ministry for Sexual Correction’ to be precise. And, to make it worse my sexual persuasion, in their eyes, must need correcting.
I can’t move, have they given me a paralysing d**g? No, a much simpler explanation is in order. I am all fucking tied up like a hog awaiting a veterinarian’s examination. How long have I been here? I’m cold, I’m bloody well naked except for a lot of rope, I stink of my own piss and I am getting hungry. I need a drink and a cigarette.
I try to shuffle round on the sparsely straw covered cobble floor, the better to take in my surroundings. Fairly standard stuff, designed to intimidate the occupant of such a room: Chains and manacles hang from the wall from various huge rings set into the stone work, instruments of medieval torture hang from rows of hooks – pincers, long nosed pliers, pokers, thumbscrews, head crushers, vaginal or anal pears, hooks, knives, corkscrews that look like the sort of thing Egyptians extracted your brain with, hose pipes with long phallic shaped nozzles, and finally what every good modern day dungeon needs the electric shock machine. There is no furniture, the only thing on the floor is the old and cold brazier.
I look up and see what reminds me of a slaughter house – a big wheel set in the ceiling with ropes and hooks coming down to the wall mounted hand operated winches. A single low watt unshielded bulb, covered in flecks of black fly pooh tries to illuminate the sombre cell. There is a drain in the middle of the floor.
Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Non of my training has prepared me for this type of situation: And not even likely to get a male guard or torturer to seduce. At the mention of this thought my wanton cunt sends me a tingle to remind me that she could really use some cock, I tell her to shut up, I need to think. They have obviously checked my clit-hood by now and confirmed their suspicions that I am not Ms Tamsin Bridges. Yes, I have it: CIA Carol will get word to the Navy Seals, I am rescued, or it wont be long now, surely??
I hear footsteps, must be my rescuers, my heart races in anticipation of a real hunky man coming to sweep me away to safety: I will even forgive him his American accent! Oh the ups and downs of my mental anguish as I suffer another disappointing blow. The key turns, the door opens, the owner of the footsteps enters.
My rescuer blocks the whole doorway, I strain my eyes in the half-light to see who could be my champion. Dozy cow get real, this ain’t the movies, this is not John Wayne and the cavalry charging over the hill to my rescue, this is Mama!!
“Hello dearie, don’t worry, I am not here to interrogate you, heavens no, we got professionals to do dat, you get dat later”.
What the fuck was she blathering on abo