Dolcett Enterprises -
Sample "Play" Scene
Introduction to the Dolcett Enterprise
and "Club X" proposition
THIS IS NOT A SNUFF SITE, but a professional, private role-playing and "scene" club for those interested in exploring the wilder themes of sexual submission/slavery in the extreme, bondage, domination and sado-masochism (BDSM) in a unique and safe fashion.
To give you a clear understanding of our "Dolcett play" I have prepared a couple of stories, with a little help from the original illustrations.
Camp X, Havana
(I've said it before, there are a few reason why the dolcett experience can be turning from fantasy into reality, here's another variation.)
DATELINE: Monday, the 6th, 9.15 am, Langley, Virginia, USA
Linda Rosen entered the Director's office in the heart of CIA Headquarters, her mind focused on why she'd been ordered from the Washington station office over the weekend, would it mean promotion, or something else?
The Director Williamson, an elderly man of the old school, stood at her entrance and put her at her ease with a welcoming smile, waving at the small meeting table by the broad windows overlooking the Virginia countryside.
"Miss Rosen, good to see you on time, come in and don't worry, this isn't a disciplinary meeting, coffee?"
He indicated a tray of breakfast he'd been picking at and two large cups, one empty the other, his, steaming.
"Please." Linda replied taking the seat opposite the Director as they both sat. Her instincts as a field agent couldn't help her investigate the whole room and the files in front of the Director as he prepared the other cup for her.
"Now, let's get down to business." His eyes locked on hers. "You're here because I've been looking for a very special agent to undertake a critical but potentially dangerous job." He saw he'd caught her attention as she nodded silently letting him continue speaking. "This is only suitable for a specific female agent with very special attribute, which is why we've been studying every woman in the agency for the past six month, until we found you."
Linda's heart fluttered, what, she tried to think was so special about her? The Director tapped one of the files in front of him.
"According to this psych report you have a very special, personal, I should say intimate, view on personal sexual relationships."
Linda's heart almost exploded with fear, could they have found out? Even with her training it was difficult to keep herself under control and reveal nothing of her inner reaction.
"This is normally something some agencies, such as the FBI, would find deeply disturbing, despite the little pervert who originally founded it. But in our case I think we have just the niche for your particular, tastes." He leaned forward a fraction, smiling with steel eyes.
"Let me be very clear about this. I don't care what you did to that girl, you were obviously lovers, in whatever way you call it, and the rope marks around her neck and the whip marks on her back will eventually heal, when she is finally released from intensive care, but, here I'm offering you a chance to," he smiled again, "come out of the closet," he waved at the large office around the, "just for this job, Do you understand."
Despite the exposure Linda just managed to keep control of herself. "Sir, I couldn't comment on anything that might be used against me in any court, whether true or not."
"Good, at least you don't break down like some stupid little girl, although I do believe you have a particularly poor opinion of most females and their place in the world."
Linda remained silent. The Director took a sip of coffee.
"Do take a drink, it's not poisoned."
Carefully, keeping her trembling hands under tight control Linda took up the cup and sipped a little.
"The mission," the Director continued, "calls for you, a woman who knows how to treat others, properly. Who knows how to put them in their place and perhaps extract critical information from them in the process. This mission is also critical to the security of the United States in our war on terror. It also requires a woman of a certain particular physique, to blend in with the environment she'll find herself working in, and one who also knows how to take orders from male superiors."
Linda's heart skipped and the cup trembled in her hands as she lowered it to the table.
"That's right my dear, I'm looking for a dominant bitch who can torture girls and still submit to the men she'll be working with, submit in every possible way. Do I make myself clear."
Linda's heart had frozen, she knew he could see it all on her face, he'd cut deep into her darkest secret and desires, but why? The agent she was still managed to assert herself.
"This sounds like a very unusual situation for the agency, and something you can't force on a person."
"Correct." He moved her file out of the way revealing another, a large red warning slashing across its face TOP SECRET. "We have access to a very unique remote facility. Nothing to do with the US government, full deniability."
"This facility has a unique way of catering for people's special tastes, like yours, but they have also offered their facilities to use in the war on terror. It seems their owners have found a very, unusual and successful way of finding and capturing young female muslim terrorists, including those seeking training in terror and martyrdom missions."
"You're kidding'."
The Director pushed across the table.
"Take a look, this is your mission briefing," Linda picked it up, "they want a liaison agent to work with them on interrogations, their way, their rules, which is why I've been looking for you."
Linda was reading, her speed reading skills taking in the first couple of pages in under a minute as she flicked over, and paused at the illustration.
"Dress code?" She was about to laugh when she saw the seriousness on the Director's face, and felt her own feelings, her deep desires pull at her. "They've got to be kidding." She laughed nervously, the first time she lost control and didn't realise the gleam the Director saw in her eyes.
"Don't tell me it's sick," he said coolly, "your girl won't be out of hospital for three months."
Linda bit down on her reply and kept reading, nervously and eagerly turning over each page.
"They have seventy so far?" She asked.
"So they claim," the Director shrugged, "they've invited our agent to verify. It will mean spending some time there, outside our direct supervision. If you're prepared to volunteer we can arrange a flight to Camp X today."
DATELINE: Monday, the 6th, 4.50pm, Havana, Cuba
Dress code! Linda thought to herself in disgust, frustration and the kind of arousal she'd only normally achieved in private with a girl to play with.
The dress code according to the briefing was nothing short of obscene, but she realised exactly what it intended - she'd often sent a girl out as a slut herself and knew the power play it represented. And yet, she also knew what it was doing to her, preparing her for what was to come.
The dress code was simple, a short tailored button-through dress, tropical style, feminine enough to flatter every curve in her tall trim body, and masculine enough for a more businesslike appearance. It was a light tan colour matched with five inch tan sandals. Nothing else, no underwear, no body hair below the neck, no jewellery, not even a watch, nothing, although she did make her own concession to the tropical light and heat with broad wrap sunglasses.
Apart from that tiny exhibitionist outfit she'd had to wear directly from Langley she only carried a light overnight bag, with a few agency toys and tools in case of emergency and a few tiny allowable outfits, of the bikini slut kind. Her briefing had told her she would have everything she needed on arrival at Camp X.
The journey to Havana had been a race from Langley to a waiting agency jet and down to Mexico City for a civilian connection to Havana. The first part of the journey was okay, alone and trembling with the excitement and the air conditioned chill of the agency jet, but the second part, stuffed in an old civilian airliner next to some sweating over-eating tourist who couldn't keep his eyes off her bare thighs, while she was cramped in tight against the window, was a nightmare of arousal, exposure and alertness to the actual dangers of this situation.
She was to be collected at the airport according to the briefing, if the agency had got through to these mysterious people in time, otherwise she had both a backup safe house and a hotel room elsewhere already waiting for her.
So now here she was, tired after all the flight, nearly naked in the glaring heat of a Havana afternoon, waiting in a run-down airport for god-knows-who to collect her and take here to who-knew-where.
That was another problem she'd voiced to the Director. This private group were keeping their exact location totally secret. She was walking into the unknown with no possibility of backup.
"But that's why you're so suited for it," he'd said, "I'm sure you're already on heat at the thought of getting your hands on those girls."
Which she was, and which she wasn't about to admit to anyone, ever, if she could help it. Apart from her personal pleasures the only thing better in her life was working for the agency.
"Miss Ronsen?" The girl had walked up to her in the middle of her thoughts. Get a grip Linda muttered to herself.
"Yes." She looked the girl over, pretty, smart, like herself, a neat little bundle of flesh.
"My name's Tima, I'm your escort to the Camp," she motioned towards the exit. "If you will follow me I have a car waiting for you."
Linda followed the girl out to the car, a long modern limousine with its own male driver. Tima ignored the driver as he opened the door for her and stepped in without a word. Linda followed suit as the door was pressed quietly behind her. In stooping to enter she couldn't help noticing how well hung the boy was under his pants, no underwear she thought.
In the car Tima had taken up one of the rear-facing jump-seats behind the driver, indicated that Linda could help herself to the whole rear seat, and thus admire the girl's exposure when she crossed her ankles and spread her knees wide looking Linda in the eye calmly to announce.
"Mistress, I am her to serve all your needs throughout your visit to the Camp, you are free to make use of me for any pleasure or task short of damage that would prevent me serving you or the Camp, the same applies to the driver, Marco."
Linda smiled. "Strip." She commanded as the car pulled away.
A few brief motions and Tima was nude and positioned as before. Linda spread her own legs, pointing at the floor below her set.
"Here." Tima jerked instantly to kneel at Linda's feet, looking up for instruction.
"I'm wet," Linda said, laying a finger pointing between her legs. "Clean me thoroughly."
"Yes, Mistress." And Tima began a thorough and expert cleansing that had Linda climaxing for the remainder of their journey.
DATELINE: Monday, the 6th, 7.00pm, Havana, Cuba
The journey lasted two hours and Linda made full use of the "facilities", relaxing with her dress unbuttoned and spread wide in the car's privacy as Tima works her obedient magic wherever Linda demanded, first on here sex then commanding a thorough cleaning of her feet, filthy from the long journey.
Despite the wonderful attentions of the little cunt's tongue Linda didn't allow it to distract her from observing the countryside passing by as they slowly swung up and around into the hills, leading to a small run-down track and what appeared at first to be a derelict rancho.
However, as they turned up the drive and passed through a plain archway in the front of the House the view transformed into all the appearances of a modern villa.
"It's discreet out front," Time explained, still kneeling nude between Linda's knees, "to avoid attention from passing locals."
Linda nodded approvingly.
A moment later they pulled up as the real entrance to the House in the center of its courtyard. Linda allowed Tima up as Marco opened the door for their exit. Tima remained nude at Linda's instruction and led her into the cool interior.
"The Master," Tima explained, "will welcome you and show you around once you've had time to settle in." And led Linda to her suite.
It was a beautiful setting overlooking the rear terrace, a large swimming pool and containing its own private facilities, including a deep closet that, Tima explained and showed, held two strong timber restraint closets.
"I will remain here," Tima indicated one, "Marco will be placed in the other, for all long as you need us."
"Good." Linda nodded, inspecting the chains and straps, the heavy iron fitting and the rack of whips and other tools needed to show cunts and useless cocks like Tima and Marco their status in the true order of life.
"If I may I'll lay out your clothes?" Tima asked.
Linda remembered. "Yes," nodding, distastefully, "the dress code. " And then continued briskly. "Show me!"
A tray had already been laid out across the bedroom for Linda, there was very little on it. Tima lifted it and crossed to the king-sized bed, to lay it down. "I was instructed to prepare these for you," she blushed briefly, speaking apologetically, "most Mistresses wear less, but Master said these are mandatory for you on arrival."
Linda gazed coolly down at the tray and its few contents. A tiny pair of tan colored shorts, a pair of matching tan high heeled sandals, two red plastic wrist bangles and a thin leather belt with several attachments, including a riding crop, and what appeared to be a slim electric cattle prod. Linda lifted it to inspect it.
Tima spoke as she did so. "The batteries will be charged at the end of each day."
"Hmmmm," Linda's mind was drifting, partly because of the, minimal, nature of her dress code, partly at the thought put into the toys that'd been added.
"These," Tima pointed to the red bangles, "will display your status to everyone in the Camp. Master will explain this." She hesitated. "Would you like to change now?"
This pet, Linda thought to herself, needs putting in her place. She looked down at the girl. "No, I need to freshen up, show me the bathroom."
Tima nodded and led the way across the room into another as large, tiled and cool in the tropical evening heat. Linda briskly stripped bare and stepped into the large shower. "Attend me." She snapped at Tima, who almost ran into the streaming jets of warm water as Linda turned it on, then raised her arms away from her body. "Clean everything." And, leaning her head back to luxuriate in the stream she relaxed as Tima worked to soap and cleanse every part of her body from head to toe.
Clean and refreshed, Linda stepped out. "Dry me, gently."
"Yes, Mistress." Tima jumped to her work calmly and methodically patting away the remaining wetness until Linda was mostly dry. "Your hair Mistress?" Tima indicated a chair and mirror. Nodding Linda took her seat and Tima began to work slowly and carefully to groom Linda's mane with long, slow gentle brush strokes. A motion in the mirror caught Linda's eye, her focus snapping on it, on Marco standing in the doorway, waiting.
"Strip!" Linda commanded him, with a wave of her hand as Tima continued to groom her. Linda watched Marco strip quickly, smiling to herself how obedient he was in responding instantly and trained to fold his clothes into a pile by his feet. Now he stood at casual attention. "Take those to your closet, and return," he bent to obey, "quickly!" Linda snapped sharply. Marco jerked into action, literally running from the room, she could hear his feet padding across the bedroom, a moment, then racing back to stand again for her instruction.
Like Tima he was smooth-skinned from face to feet and showed no embarrassment at his status. Of course not, Linda though, turning to admire herself in the mirror, her superiority, and then a moment of doubt, the dress code, crossed her mind. She rose and strode into the bedroom, Tima pacing her, Marco falling in behind.
Linda stopped by the bed and stared down at the tray, the dress code for her.
"Okay, let's do this!" She scooped up the bangles, and began dressing, while the two naked slaves stood at the foot of the bed waiting for her next command. She'd just finished buckling the belt slung around her hips when a deep confident voice broke the tranquility.
"It fits you perfectly!" Linda twisted around to see the tall man standing in the doorway, smiling at her, and nearly naked.
He stepped into the room looking Linda over as much as she looked him over. He wasn't totally nude, apart from the disarmingly confident smile he work light tan sandals and a belt like her own, and unlike the slaves he was covered an masculine hair over a well-toned healthy body. He halted a pace form her to give her a long glance.
"When I asked your agency to send someone suitable I didn't realize we'd have to wait nearly a year for them to find you," he nodded agreeably, "but, wow, you're a hot chick!"
"And this!?" Linda sneered back at him.
"That, is a test, your uniform and comfortable for the Camp." He waved down at his own nakedness. "Compared to everyone else, you're overdressed." Then his eyes hardened for a moment, reminding her with a chill of the Director in Langley. "And obedient enough to know when to take orders and who from." Linda stifled a blush and got a grip on herself, just a job she thought, standing there topless, her nipples erect in salute, just a job.
"What about these?" She lifted an arm with a red bangle on her wrist.
The man grinned. "All slaves are marked," he motioned Tima to come forward, pushing her back onto the bed, the girl automatically spreading her legs and lifting her hips. He indicated the slave tag, a small disc attached to the girl's sex. "Silver," he explained, "for Club use, gold for my personal stock, and black for disposal, if the price is right." He waved Time back onto her feet. Looking Linda directly in the eye. "You need to be distinguished from the livestock, and remind them," a casual wave at the two slaves, "who's in charge. All our Mistresses wear them," he nodded at her feet, "and the heels. You can leave the shorts off once you're comfortable.
He grinned again. "And my name's James, James Masterman. Let's take the tour."
DATELINE: Monday, the 6th, 8.00pm, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda and James left the two slaves hanging in the closets, nooses tight around their throats and wrists bound at their backs.
"There's plenty to see in the Camp," James explained as he led Linda through the House, down the grand staircase and further into the basements, "but you'll want to see where you'll be working." He smiled. "Work first, pleasure later."
With her own trained sense of direction Linda could detect they were directly under one wing of the house as James pushed an old-style door, half-glass, half wooden open into a short narrow passage leading through into a broad and long room.
The passage had a door each side. James opened them to she her. "Restroom, bathroom for you and your slaves to freshen up." Linda nodded and the elegant dark-tiled room. "Store for toys," James showed the opposite room, full of chains, clamps, shackles and racks of other useful things, a smile twitching on Linda's lips. James stepped onto the long, broad room beyond the passage.
"We've had plenty of time to prepare for your arrival, this whole section has been set up for you." He unhooked a key from his belt. "This is the master key for all the doors here," and handed it over.
Linda took the key as she looked around the long stone room. Beside them was a large wooden desk and several old-style filing cabinets and other cupboards. These took up two sides of a wide space at the end of this spacious room. The bulk of the room was taken up by, Linda counted quickly, sixteen large prison-style iron cages, eight down each side, leaving a broad passage down the centre, plus the office space, like the head of a T, where she now stood. Everything was brightly lit with a mix of sunlight from slit windows near the ceiling and intense bright ceiling lights flooding every angle, leaving no shadow in their glare. Bright enough to keep anyone awake for days, Linda approved professionally.
"You can see everything from here," James explained, waving at the room, "and we have CCTV for the rest." He indicated the array of large split screens beside her desk.
"What do they show?" She asked.
"Come on." He led her down the room their feet tapping an echo throughout the empty spaces. Linda weighed them up, calculating the capacity, noting the lack of any cots in the cells. They came to the end at a door in a stone wall. James motioned for her to try her key, which she did, opening the door into another passage.
This passage was narrower and solid stone walls and heavy wooden and iron doors, three doors each side, numbered from Room 101 to Room 106.
"Your work rooms," James smiled as Linda opened one to look into the large torture chamber. She lingered to assess everything laid out, in cupboards and hanging on the walls, a dream come true, her heart skipping a beat at what she could do here, a slight smile rising on automatically on her lips, until she bit it back, nodding professionally.
Two of the rooms were large fully-equipped chambers, one focused on the medical/surgical theme, one very mediaeval, another was devoted to sensory deprivation, the fourth to electricity, the fifth for formal interrogations, and the last more like a lounge, with a number of hidden accessories. All were equipped with hidden cameras and recorders, TV sets, and more, covering every angle, every sound.
"You've thought of everything."
"Well if we haven't then tell us and we'll get it for you." He nodded to the end of the passage. "One more room for you."
They advanced together and Linda used her key on this second heavy door, and stepping in.
"Your processing room," James announced over the muffled cries from large heavy sacks hanging along the two facing side walls.
Tables in the centre, strange chairs and other furnishings spoke of ways to restrain, stretch and do things to the human body, and it looked to Linda's eye, that she already had a dozen playthings.
"We," James continued, "have files on each of them for you to begin with."
"Where did you find them?" She asked casually, ignoring the crying sobbing sounds from the secure sacks.
James shrugged. "My contacts in Europe and the Middle East, it was something we were developing for our members, when we discovered its application to the war on terror." He looked at her calmly and sincerely. "We wanted to play our part in the safety of the world. That's when we reached out to the agency." He nodded around the room. "You can use the two pets we've given you. They'll perform your manual work, leaving you free to enjoy the facilities." His smile was back.
Linda nodded thoughtfully, planning her next moves. "How long have they been here?"
"They're fresh, we kept them interested for the last year while your agency found the right liaison for us, as soon as we knew you were coming we picked these up, they arrived yesterday, and we've already stripped them for you."
"They can wait." Linda looked around the room again, thinking about facilities. "Tell me more about your Club." She knew the director would want a full briefing, and a good agent always checked her surroundings, for traps, back doors and escape routes.
"I'll show you. I think you'll love it."
DATELINE: Tuesday, the 7th, 6.00am, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda awoke refreshed and relaxed to the cooling dawn breeze through the open balcony. She flexed her legs, wrapping them around Tima, squeezing the girl to attend her, the little pet's tongue ideally placed to service Mistress.
The previous night, after the first brief and amazing tour of the facilities of Camp X, leaving Linda with wild dreams of all the pleasures she could enjoy here, Linda had taken Tima to her bed, binding the girl at the foot, legs spread wide. After whipping the girl's back and binding her arms tight over the whip marks Linda had settled down with Tima's head positions comfortably between her legs to lick her sex clean. Now she received her early morning cleaning in the same fashion.
After taking her morning orgasm, patting the girl on her head. "Good girl." Linda rose for her morning martial arts exercises and a shower. Tima attended to her morning grooming without a moment's hesitation. Linda appreciated how well the girl had been broken of any silly little ideas about her true status.
After completing her grooming she sent Tima to fetch Marco. The boy was exhausted and in obvious, pain from the torment of having to hang by his neck with a cock restraint on throughout the night. Linda shrugged to herself, thinking how long she could keep him suffering before he broke.
"Follow me." She commanded and lead them to the dining room.
James was already up and attended by two local girls, dusky skinned and beautifully proportioned they had Linda speculating on what she could do with them even as she caught the gold tags on their cunts and put the thoughts aside.
Tima and Marco served Linda as she passed a few pleasantries with James, but her mind, as he observed to her, was already on the work ahead as she tossed scraps of food on the floor for her two slaves to lick up.
After their conversation she left James to his work. "It never ends," he commented, "the daily trials of running the business of slavery, and other pleasant matters."
In there basement, her wing, Linda told Tima and Marco to wait in a corner while she studied the files waiting on her desk.
Throughout the morning she spent the time preparing her plan of action. Each of the terrorists had been caught on camera or tape admitting their willingness to support one or more so-called martyrdom or suicide missions. All of them had been brought here having volunteered to undertake such a mission, never knowing the truth of their recruiter's motivations.
"Bitches!" Linda muttered angrily. She stood and strode down the corridor, waving for her slaves to follow, their bare feet slapping quickly on the floor at her back as she slammed her way through the first then second doors into the processing room. "That one!" She stabbed a finger at one of the now still sacks.
At her sound a few began muffled moans. Linda ignored them as Tima and Marco hauled the sack over to the cleared center of the room, dropping it down and unzipping it. A moment of work had the naked girl, a young nineteen year old Irish-Muslim chained and gagged, her body stinking of the sweat, piss and shit from her hours' captivity.
"Hose her down!" Linda commanded Marco, who rushed to the wall tap and hoses. In a brisk moment the girl was twisting and wrenching as the chill water sprayed over her, flushing across the dark tiled floor into a waiting drain. Linda stood coldly back to watch the girl, then instructed Tima. "Cell one."
To Marco she indicated the next sack. "That one!"
And so it went for the next hour, dragging each girl out of a sack, inspecting and hosing her down then dragging her off to a cell. When that task was over she left Marco. "Clean this mess up!" And joined Tima in the "Office" as she was already beginning to think of it.
She walked slowly up and down the row of metal barred cells, inspecting each girl, still bound and gagged, her eyes studying every inch of their flesh, their posture and the way they responded to her presence, and their own situation.
She could recognise immediately those who would break easily, those most likely to suicide and those who would be more difficult, or fun, to break.
"All right bitches, listen up! My name is Mistress Linda, and you're mine. You belong to me, your lives are in my hands and no one else's. There's no mercy and no justice here, only me. If you obey me you'll live," she lied so easily, "and if you don't, "she snapped her fingers, "you're dead meat!"
She paused for effect. "You all wanted to take part in a martyrdom mission, well bitches, welcome to your dream come true, and just to prove it by tonight I'm going to kill one of you," she smiled, "and enjoy every single fucking minute of it!"
She nodded to Tima. "Ungag them all, let's hear them squeal." She licked her lips in anticipation.
DATELINE: Tuesday, the 7th, 2.00pm, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
The squealing of the bitches was a sweet sound to Linda. Meaningless demands, appeals, please and other nonsense, Linda smiled as she let it all wash over her, like a wonderful caress of a lover's lips, it gave her nipples that extra edge she loved so much.
As she read carefully through the reports again she thought to herself, I'm actually getting paid to do this! She noted one or two, comparing the reports to her first impressions, nodding to herself, yes, these will do.
Eventually she rose, stretching her tall lean body, indifferent to the background noise. She motioned to the two slaves, pointing at the carpeted floor.
"Take a nap, you'll need the rest for later." Tima and Marco nodded and fell to the floor, snuggling into each other for comfort on the rug as Linda strolled out, switching the lights off as she left.
DATELINE: Tuesday, the 7th, 4.00pm, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda strolled around the gardens at the back of the House, enjoying the tranquility, the relaxing heat of the day, the colors and scents of the flowers. After a while she'd settling onto a bench to look out over a broader field, where a full dirt running track was laid out.
She watched with mild curiosity as four grossly overweight females were tied to heavy rollers, the ropes passing from their throats between their legs to the rollers, and whipped repeatedly around the track in races that were recorded on videos.
"Hmm!" She muttered. "Looks fun." She hear a motion behind her, turning casually, but mind fully alert, as James strolled along the path to join her.
"It is fun," he said sitting beside her, "they're here for out fat farm treatment, weight loss, dieting, fitness training, and they earn their keep with the races."
"Broadcasting them?"
He nodded. "Daily, we earn good money on the betting, and the winners come to visit each months to ride the livestock." He nodded as the four creatures running the race. "How's it going with your own stock?"
Linda shrugged. "First day, just softening them up."
"Anything we could use?"
"Recordings?" She shook her head. "The agency wouldn't want that, but the leftovers? I don't see any problem with disposal."
"Maybe I'll have an opportunity to show you the kitchen in action then, soon?"
She smiled at that thought, a smile that sent a thrill down between her legs and into her belly. He'd told her about the kitchen, and after a night sleeping on is she'd accepted the idea, it was the natural order of things.
"I like to take my time." Was all she could say, and turned back to watch the races.
DATELINE: Tuesday, the 7th, 6.00pm, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda strolled casually back into her office, the lights blazing on with their dazzling glare, Tima and Marco jumping up, having been sat waiting in the dark for her return.
"All right bitches!" Linda called out. She stood at the end of the passage, visible to all the prisoners through their bars. "It's time!"
She paused for a moment of drama, then unbuttoned her shorts and eased them down off her hips to fall at her feet. She stepped away from them, waving for Marco to pick them up.
"Now you useless cunts! It's time to see what you're worth to me!" She strode down the passage, hands on hips, breast thrust out. "We're going to have a little test." She took a few more slow steady steps along the lines of mesmerised cunts. "My pussy is wet and filthy, it needs cleaning," she licked her lips in anticipation. "The first one to go on her knees gets the privilege of licking me clean." She saw their hesitations out of the corner of her eyes as she reached the far door and turned to face them all. "And the last one gets to die tonight."
Again they hesitated, her lips curling back in a sneer. "Come on you whores of Allah! You wanted to taste American blood on nine-eleven, well here's some American pussy for you to taste! ON YOUR KNEES!"
And one broke, falling down with a sob. "Please!?"
"Well! Looks like we have a winner!" Linda sneered. "Now's who's next?" The paralysis broken they all suddenly followed the first girl, some quickly, some hesitantly as Linda watched with a sharp eye. She walked slowly up the passage, hips swaying, flaunting her sex and breast, until she came to one cell. "And here we have the looser of the night!"
She snapped her fingers at Tima. "Room 101."
The beast in the cell screamed and struggled violently as Tima and Marco seized and dragged it away, Linda watching, her pulse racing and lips pulled back in a grin of pleasure. "She'll amuse me for the next few hours, but first the appetiser!" She strode over to the first volunteer's cell, pointing to a strategically positioned gap in the bars, just large enough for a head. "Here, lick me, and make it good," the girl pushed her head through for Linda to seize her hair and lift her face up to Linda's moist sex, "really good."
Despite Linda's receptive wetness she was surprised as the girl's skill with her tongue. "Oooo, ahhhh, you've done this before haven't you?" The girl's tongue didn't hesitate as she nodded in Linda's grip. "Hmmmmmm," Linda sighed, "you're going to be a very good girl, for as long as you live." She grinned as the tongue did hesitate, before completing its service and sending Linda into orgasm. "Oh-YES!" She finished, pushing the head back.
"Okay!" She turned from the cell. "Time to work!" And strode down and through the door to room 101.
DATELINE: Tuesday, the 7th, evening, Room 101, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
The squealing of the pig lasted for hours, and was broadcast on loudspeakers for the others in the cells to hear and cry over.
Linda began by cutting its tendons to stop it trying to escape, then worked on it's back, cutting its flesh with the sharpest whip from neck to feet with a crisscross tracery she loved to lay on inferior creatures.
For amusement Linda stimulated its cunt, bringing it to orgasm three times in succession, then turned her whip to its flanks and front. "Tic tac toe!" She smiled at her artwork, letting her hand linger inside the cunt, its honey mixing with the blood from all her cuts. She wiped herself clean on its hair.
"Hurting?" She sneered. "Imagine that hurt you wanted to cause to innocent victims!" She screamed, their flesh sliced open by your bombs, their bodies defiled with metal splinters!" She scooped up a handful of needles from a tray laid out by Tima and begin piercing the flesh hanging in front of her, it's sobbing exhausted cries lifting up again.
"And nails!" Linda finished as the creature's legs were folded under it, supported on a wooden stool where Linda nailed its feet and pussy to the wood.
And finally, she glared down at the creature. "Imagine their innocent bodies ripped apart!"
When she'd finished with the creature, still alive, she had it carried into the cells room. The prisoners sobbed and cried, some shouting, as the blooded torn sight let down in the middle of the passage.
"This is your future, and more, if you don't tell me everything!" Linda told them. "You're just meat to me, think about it!" Her eye caught the look of the girl who'd pleasured her. To Time she said. "Take this into 101 and have it clean the floor with its tongue. I want it spotless by tomorrow."
To Marco. "You'll keep them all awake all night, tell me immediately that," the torn creature, "dies."
With that command she left the room.
DATELINE: Wednesday, the 8th, 9.00am, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda was relaxing with a late breakfast after having been awoken at 3am with the news the first prisoner had died. After attending to those details she'd left Marco with the prisoners and taken Tima to bed. Now she was stretching herself to prepare for the day ahead as James passed through the dining room. He paused a moment to look at her, a smile on his lips.
"Can I help you?" Linda asked.
"No." James shook his head. "I see you've begun to settle in here." He smiled again
"I guess," she shrugged, "when will your man finish his work?"
"A couple of days. How's your work doing?"
"Just breaking them in."
"So I heard, well good luck, catch you later," he smiled at her again and strolled out of the room.
Linda frowned for a moment, thought about his behaviour and where his eyes had strayed, and realized she'd not worn her shorts that morning. "Hmm!" She smiled a moment, then returned to planning her next move with the prisoners, a small tingle rising between her legs in anticipation.
DATELINE: Wednesday, the 8th, 10.00am, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda finished inspecting the girl who'd pleased her the previous day. The girl had successfully licked all the mess up in room 101 and now hung from the ceiling in a small cage in the corner of the room.
"You can live only as long as you make me happy." Linda had said on leaving the girl alone in the room. The remains of the last creature had been moved back into the room for the girl to stare out in terror.
Returning to the office, Linda strode along between the cells.
"Okay cunts!" She called out loud and proud. "Same rules as yesterday, first one down gets to please me, and live!"
There was sudden movement in most of the beasts and it took Tima to point out the winner for Linda to take her pleasure, while Marco stood guard over the cell with the looser.
Linda took her time with the winner, gazing into its eyes, stroking its hair before pulling it onto her sex for pleasure. On orgasm she thrust it back, turning to Tima.
"Take this one to room 105," the interrogation room, "and this," turning to Marco and the looser, "to room 102."
Ignoring the fear and cries from the two beasts Linda strolled back to her desk, settling down to watch the room through the TV monitors and read the files on the two she'd chosen for play today.
DATELINE: Wednesday, the 8th, 11.00am, Room 105, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda stepped softly into the room. She'd freshened herself up, but remained almost nude to hold the girl's attention and remind the girl of Linda's power. Tima followed with a small tray of drinks and fruit.
The room wa quiet, the walls soundproofed to deaden any sound, and soften the whole tone. This was where prisoners could be put as ease.
The girl was tied to a padded chair, legs closed around a vibrator humming softly inside her sex, here arms ties with soft straps to the leather arms of the chair. Linda smiled as she sat facing the girl, only a small table to one side for the tray Tima placed there. There was nothing to protect the modesty of the girl from inspection.
"Now let's be clear about this," Linda began. "You are going to tell me everything, you're going to give me names, places, phone numbers, everything. And if I am fully satisfied noting bad will happen to you, but you've seen what could happen to you if I'm not happy."
She turned to reach for a segment of fruit, reaching out to place it in the girl's mouth. After a moment's hesitation the girl bit down and began eating.
"Good girl." Linda smiled. "If you want more you'll answer all my questions, and make me very happy." She crossed her legs, reaching her foot out to stroke it down the girl's leg. And so it began.
DATELINE: Wednesday, the 8th, 4.00pm, Room 102, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda burst into the room, slamming the door open wide. Tima followed, closing the door quickly, as Linda strode, her shoes tapping harshly on the dark tiled floor, to where the looser of the day hung on tiptoes, suspended from barbed hooks in the beasts' breasts.
Without hesitation Linda slapped the beast hard on its exposed sex.
"We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, it's your choice!" Linda snapped at the beast. "You deserve nothing! No mercy, no hope, no life!" She leaned close, hear erect nipples brushing against the beast, her lips close to its ear, teeth nipping at the earlobe like a lover. "I want you to suffer, to scream, to entertain me, unless you give me everything I ask for, answer every question?" She let the question hang.
"Fuck," the beast croaked, from its dry throat.
"Fuck?" Linda raised one eyebrow, her lips curling back in a grin. "You want me to fuck our body over? No problem."
The sound of dentist drills, surgical power saws and screams tore around the room and through the loudspeakers in the cells for many hours.
At its end, the beast was still alive, as Linda stood back to inspect her work. Cut of its outer limbs, down to knees and elbows, which was laid out on a tray Tima was now taking away to the kitchens, the beast was supported upright on a stake through its cunt, its dry stumps spread-eagled and head raised. Only the head remained untouched on the presentation that was now mounted on a low, wheeled trolley.
Marco entered with the girl from 105. Linda smiled at her then glanced at Marco, indicating the beast. "Put it on display for the others to enjoy tonight." She turned to the girl, waving her forward, pointing for her to kneel at Linda's feet. The girl didn't hesitate.
Linda smiled. "Good girl. Are you going to do what I say?"
The girl nodded. "Yes, Mistress."
"Very good." Linda patted the pet on the head. "I'm going to call you Kitty from now on. Now," she continued briskly, "this floor is mess, you're to lick it all clean by tomorrow morning, every inch, or I'll be doing the same to you."
And with that she walked away, slamming and locking the door at her back. Kitty didn't hesitate to begin her work.
Across the passage Linda stepped into room 101 and inspected the tiny cage and the girl hanging there. She paused to let the girl take in her presence. Then walked over, the cage suspended close to head height made it easy for her to look straight into the girls eyes.
"You heard it all?" She asked. The girl nodded. Linda smiled, she stroked her wet sex, lifting her fingers to the girl's dry cracked lips, wetting them with her juices. "I'm going to call you Pet. I've got something special in mind for you."
With that she turned and left the room for the night.
DATELINE: Wednesday, the 8th, evening, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda walked past the new crucified "exhibit" in the center of the passage inspecting the fearful, exhausted and defeated expressions on the faces and bodies of the caged beasts. She smiled to herself.
When she reached Marco she beckoned Tima close.
"Feed them tonight" to Tima, "scraps from the kitchen." She glanced back at the cells. "They can eat off the floor." To Marco. "Drink water all night, then relieve yourself in their mouths." To Tima, help him if they refuse the water, I don't want them dead yet. Take turns sleeping."
And with that she left them to their work.
DATELINE: Thursday, the 9th, 8.00am, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
The following morning Linda strolled into the cells, lifting an eyebrow in surprise.
"It's still alive?" She asked Tima, who nodded as Linda walked upto the beast displayed in the center of the floor, walking around it's body, lifting its eyelids open to inspect its flickering life.
Linda shrugged. "Get me a wire."
Tima rushed off to the storage room and returned with a wire loop, which Linda dropped over the beast's head, brushing its long hair aside. Bracing herself she swiftly snapped the wired tight, and slowly pulled it tight. She nodded down at the beast.
"See, Tima, even death is a pleasure for these creatures, it's nipples are saluting me." She grinned and with power flowing with heat through her shoulders and arms, she jerked the wire closed, cutting cleanly through the beast's neck, the head dropping on the floor.
Quickly Linda snatched the head up by its hair, looking in its blinking eyes with a snarl. "Go to hell!" Then she dropped it in Tima's arms. You know what to do with that."
To Marco. "Fetch my cleaners from their rooms."
She strode along the cells while the two slaves hurried away on their duties.
"Now your whores, this," she waved at the crucified meat in the passage, "is what happens if you don't obey me totally!" She smiled. "But if you are good to me, and I know you can be good girls, then you'll be treated, better." She paused to let them take her words in. "Do you want to be good girls?"
A moment of silence. She cocked her head. "I can't hear you. Do you want to be good girl?"
"Yes, miss." A voice whispered, Linda noted the source.
"Good, but I want to hear you all say it, loudly! Are you going to be good girls, or are you going to be this!" She pointed at the exhibit.
"Good girls," another voice called out, louder. More soft voices added to the chorus.
"Louder." Linda called with a smile as Marco entered with the other two girls in tow. She waved a hand to halt him at the door. "Convince me!" She commanded to the cells. "Prove you want to be my good girls, let's hear it loud!"
"Good girls!" More, then all cried out. "Good girls!"
"LOUDER!" Linda commanded again.
"GOOD GIRLS!" They cried.
Linda smiled. "On your knees at the front!" She pointed where she waned them at the front of their cells. "And let's hear it again!"
They all shuffled forward, their arms still bound at their backs after all these days. "GOOD GIRLS!" They each cried, some sobbing.
"Now together, and don't stop until I tell you!" Linda commanded.
"GOOD GIRLS!" They cried together. "GOOD GIRLS! GOOD GIRLS! GOOD GIRLS! GOOD GIRLS! GOOD GIRLS!" As Linda motioned Marco forward with the two slavegirls, Pet and Kitty. "GOOD GIRLS! GOOD GIRLS! GOOD GIRLS!"
"STOP!" Linda commanded, and smiled as they fell silent. "Very good. Now stay right there and watch."
To the two girls. "On your knees," the girls fell immediately, "clean this mess up." Linda indicated the blood on the floor. "Then I have a reward for you." She turned at the sound of the entry door, smiling as Tima returned, here arms carrying something.
As Tima approached Linda saw she was carrying the head of the first beast, now mounted on a small wooded base. A few of the beasts in the cells saw it too and choked back sobs as Linda grinned.
"Beautiful!" Linda inspected it, the mounting was just as she'd requested from James. "On the wall! " She turned and pointed above the heavy door leading to the interrogation rooms. "There!" She looked at the eight faces in the cells, and spoke coolly. "That way you can all enjoy it."
"The next one," Tima spoke, "will be ready Tomorrow."
Linda nodded. "Very good." She patted the girl's ass then headed for her desk. Despite all the pleasures available here she still had reports to write, and the next interrogations to prepare, wondering which beast would be next.
DATELINE: Saturday, the 11th, midday, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda was enjoying a relaxing stroll through the grounds of the Camp while thinking over the results of her latest interrogations. The material was certainly, entertaining, she repressed another twinge between her legs, but most of the beasts in the cells were turning out to be drained now.
It was, she thought, amazing how easily girls can be broken. She approved, most girl's, females, were just cunts on the hoof and deserved nothing better. It was good to show them their true nature and lead them on their path to salvation.
She turned a corner to see James supervising two other men whipping six girls suspended by their wrists from trees. She paused to watch their technique and hear James correcting them. Novices, obviously, Linda observed.
James caught sight of her and handed a whip back to one of the men before strolling, his cock at half erection, to join her, grinning.
"Hello there! How's you're work?"
Linda smiled absently. "Good."
"You look tired."
Linda shrugged. "Been a long week."
James looked at her more closely. "Maybe you need a break, a change of scene, and maybe some new inspiration. We're having a barbeque for the membership tomorrow, would you like to see how we prepare it?"
Linda smiled. "That would be nice, you never had the chance when I first arrived."
"Then let's go!" James grinned. "I hope you're not too tired to enjoy it."
DATELINE: Saturday, the 11th, midday, Kitchens, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
The kitchens where a huge vaulted space off a corridor close to Linda's private underground wing. She already knew this and the method of preparing meat, but on her arrival she'd only had a brief chance to inspect it, and it hadn't been working fully that evening.
Now the heat flared as James led her into the room.
"You might," he suggested, "want to leave your shoes by the door." He indicated a few other pairs there already. "They're too pretty to mess up." He added his own sandals to the pile
Linda smiled, slipped her shoes off and followed James across the warm stone floor.
"Underfloor heating," James commented, "keeps it comfortable for us."
He waved a hand at one side of the large room opposite a blazing fire in a high hearth. "The livestock cages you know already."
Linda nodded. "Already occupied?" She saw three female beasts bound and slumped on the floor."
"Yes. These came in from the US last month, street girls, drug dealers their local community wanted rid of."
"Don't they mess the floor, when they realize their fate?"
"No, e clean them out twenty-four hours before bringing them down here for the last time." He pointed as a second cage where other girls were chained suspended facing the room. "We bring them in a few times before to break them and show them their true status. These will go upstairs to wait on the guests tomorrow, then be gang-raped for the next month, before their turn comes."
Linda nodded professionally, a dribble of moisture, of heat and desire, running down her leg.
"Do you want to pick one?" James asked her. "We can work on it together, I'll show you the whole process."
"Really?" She smiled. "Well," she couldn't help her nipples standing up even higher than normal. James glanced down at them and winked at her.
"Looks like you've already agreed."
Linda grinned. "I guess so! Okay!" She turned briskly to the first livestock cage, looking through the bars to inspect the meats on offer. "Hmmmm, well, that one!" She pointed at the husky, muscular one.
"Oh good choice! Plenty of meat on that one!" James stepped through the open doorway in the cage, is had no door, the livestock was chained up against the wall, and unhooked the selected meat. He led it out to the butchering table and, with Linda's help then lifted it up to strap it down on its back.
"We'll gut it and cut this one up for portions and a stew." James explained. "See how it's responding?" He dipped his hand into its cunt, brining it out glistening wet, Linda reached over to inspect for herself.
"Hmmm," she looked the beast over. "And its nipples still seem responsive," she brushed them to hardness.
"Chefs get the final honors, but not for me today." He reached for the fist knife and began showing Linda how they prepared the meat for the feasts.
As Linda helped she became breathless with the howls of the beast, the sensation of its meat as they cut away the choice selections and threw the offal aside, she savoured the sensation of its juices running through her hands. Glancing up at James with a grin of pleasure, she caught sight of his own responses, his erection now standing out in all its splendour.
"That's going to get in the way if it's not relieved." She said striding around the table, turning her back to it, leaning on it, spreading herself wide and offering up her own body to receive him with a mutual cry. Her hands pushed back, into the mass of meat, her back arched as James gave her a deep bloody love bit on the throat while ramming himself into her. Crying, gasping, their bodies yearning for each other they pushed as if they could squeeze into the same space, Linda's cunt squeezing James's cock hard, gripping it tightly to hole it in, to milk him dry as they came in perfect harmony with a grunt and a shout!
They held themselves there, suspending the moment in the room's heat as she wrapped her arms around him and he gripped her tightly.
"Hmmm," she whispered. "Beautiful."
"And messy," he smiled at her.
"I have a couple of girls trained all week to clean up my messes."
"Then let's finish here and put them to work."
Which they did for the rest of the afternoon.
DATELINE: Saturday, the 11th, night, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
That night James took Linda to bed. She was reluctant at first, she wanted to keep her professional distance, but James reminded her that she was her as their guest, that her obedience to the requirements of the Club was part of the bargain for the Agency being here and all females, even dominant ones, were inherently inferior to men. He said all this while his cock was pointed only inches from her moist cunt and she knew in her heart that he was right.
They spent the night with a handful of slaves, of both sexes, playing with them, swapping techniques, and fucking themselves to exhaustion.
She awoke in a state of tired bliss, and took the day off, apart from ensuring the beasts in their cages where kept awake without food or water for the day until it was time to feed them the scraps from the barbeque.
DATELINE: Monday, the 27th, 3.00pm, Camp X, Havana, Cuba
Linda completed her first full report to the Agency at her desk. Wearing her shorts once again she'd settle into a routine that kept tighter control of her furious libido. The cells were almost empty now, only the two girls Pet and Kitty remained, currently chained up in the first cell, licking each other's cunts to exhaustion.
The work had gone well after the first week, once they were broken the beasts were easy to interrogate, then each was rewarded with comforts and time outdoors,including sessions with other members of the club.
The most resistant ones were sent to the kitchens, their howls and pleas where as exciting as always for Linda personally manhandling their naked bodies onto the butchering table or, even better, the spitting tables to have the beasts run through with ten foot steel spits for live roasting over the great fire.
All the original batch had now been disposed off, except the two pets Linda had decided to keep here for her pleasure, until she tired of them.
In all it had been a good month, and the Club had already told her there was another batch of twenty beasts being shipped in by the end of the week.
This time, though, Linda promised herself, she'd take more time to enjoy the opportunity. She'd felt rushed initially, results were demanded by the Agency, but she'd not had the time to dig deep into what the beasts could have told her, and it gave her the excuse to remain on this wonderful assignment.
She smiled to herself, stretching back in her chair, glancing at the two pets in the cell, thinking of Master James who'd be waiting for her that night. Well, she thought, that was tonight, for now, she unbuttoned her shorts and snapped her fingers, time to relax.
DATELINE: Wednesday, the 29th, 5.00pm, Langley, Virginia, USA
The Director closed Linda's report. It'd had been handed to him, along with all the original recordings, by the Special Projects Executive, Eyes Only, that afternoon and he'd spent the last few hours taking notes to pass on to Agency Stations around the world. No one else would ever see the results, and practices of Linda's work.
Certainly, he thought with amusement, the young woman had developed into a remarkably talented interrogator, in her special field, and he felt she would blossom into one of the Agency's most valued assets.
Her report on this unique Club was also quite comprehensive, and suggested one solution to a serious problem being faced around the world with their present rendition programmes - disposal of captives after interrogations.
Leaning back in his chair the Director took another look at a second file that had been waiting his attention. Although Linda had been the best choice for this assignment there were a couple of other candidates, he looked at their profiles, pretty women he thought, and wondered whether Linda would appreciate their assistance, under her command. He smiled, thinking of how she'd whip them into shape.
Finally he reviewed her proposal to extend her assignment. From all he'd read, plus all he'd sensed between the lines in her report and listening to her voice on the recordings, he could see the value of keeping the assignment going and her own very special enthusiasm for the work. But that wasn't the final deciding factor. In the end Linda had produced remarkable results in interrogating and removing a dangerous element threatening the nation. And with that thought he happily stamped "APPROVED" on her request.
[This story is dedicated to the hard working members of the CIA rendition programmes of illegal kidnap and torture. :-) ]
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