The Bondage Adventures of Lara Cross 4

by John Roper

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© Copyright 2005 - John Roper - Used by permission

Storycodes: MM/f; FF/f; bond; susp; reluct/nc; X

(story continues from )


Part 4

Though Sasha Nash's experience with bondage was extensive, both as a model and lover, and video producer/slaver, it was child's play compared to the predicament in which she now found herself. Regardless of the fact that none of the snakes had made a move towards her as she slowly ascended into the vat, speculation as to what would happen when or if her abductors decided to lower her frantically writhing body all the way to the floor continued to fuel and extend the surprising depth and intensity of Sasha's multiple.

"Well," she rationalized, "if I have to die, I can't think of a better way to end it all."

Just then, the winch stopped Sasha's descent to within ten inches of the nearest batch of snakes. Several anxious seconds passed before a door, cut into the vat, swung open in front of her. A hooded figure carefully stepped in and walked to Nash's pleasurably, but anxiously writhing uncertainty. It was then she realized the snakes were not life-threatening. "Whew!"

A hangman's noose, fashioned from inch-and-a-half thick hemp, was then drawn tight around her neck and knotted at its nape. The obviously male figure then walked gingerly back to the door and left Sasha to her speculations. The winch was again activated to lift her to an altitude that enabled one of the vat planks to be placed across it and directly under her. She was then lowered onto it before the hooded figure, using a ten-foot-long grip stick, dislodged the winch hook from the ball bind ropes. It was then Sasha noticed the sweet-smelling sticky stuff under her legs.

"Honey? What the hell for?" 

All the slack in the hangman's noose rope was taken out as a deep, covered dish was placed on the end of the plank in front of Sasha. She watched as its top was removed and the two dungeon men left the room, bolting the door behind them.

"Now what?"

While the rope pressure on Sasha's shins and arms had lessened considerably, the discomfort of kneeling on the plank, and the precarious balance she had to maintain in order not to fall off made the minutes that followed extremely harrowing. The slipperiness of the honey added yet another perilous element to the dilemma, giving Sasha ample reason to believe that what lay ahead could be a staring role in what she was now fairly certain would be a snuff video.

"MMMUHUH!!" "NOOOOOOO!" she tried to say and thought when the contents of the deep dish on the end of the plank made themselves known to her.

"ANTS?!"

It didn't take them long to sniff out and head for the honey puddle that ran from a few inches beyond Sasha's knees to just short of the tips of her toes.

"There's another dishful of them behind you," informed Chasheer, the Mad One from his console.

"Slower," said Achmed to Tah Tah as he took in every last detail of Sasha's damsel-in-distress bondage ordeal, sucked one last hit on his Cuban cigar, and slipped into a mild stupor of on-the-edge, pre-orgasmic shock.

"Yes------yes------that's perfect."

"They are driver ants," informed the Mad One to his victim through the console intercom. "Are you familiar with them at all, Ms. Nash?"

She certainly was, but would not give her tormentor the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, she bowed her head and thought, "Curse Of The Mubombo," a bondage video she'd made a few years earlier in which the same man eating ants, though not actually, were used to torment a staked out damsel. Sheik Achmed smiled with satisfaction as spontaneous, mental images of that video added to the ironic magic of the moment. Chasheer continued with the briefing.

"There aren't enough of them to eat you and the honey in one sitting- but I'm sure their overall effect will give you ample reason to consider hanging yourself before they are satiated. Of course, you can easily forego that unpleasant eventuality by divulging the whereabouts of Lara Cross. Care to reconsider?"

"MMUHUHU!!!" screamed Sasha Nash, just as the Sheik unloaded his formidable load into Tah Tah's throat and Lara's trusted assistant revealed to her by transatlantic cellular connection that Achmed had bought the jewelry Wellington Trent had stolen from her.

* * * * *

"What?" asked Gwenn when the look on Lara's face made it clear she was thoroughly pissed.

Cross closed her phone and reported, "We can forget about getting my property back anytime soon."

"Which means," remembered Dolan, "we lost our grub stake."

"Right," grimaced Lara as she sat down and immediately regretted the move as the lacerations on her ass both reinforced her get-even intentions and reminded her of what she and Gwenn went through the night before.

"How much do we need?" injected Rob Banks into the cloud of doom that suddenly hung over the front of the RV.

Lara stood and took a deep breath before estimating, "Enough to rent a chopper for several days, buy food, water, amenities and gear… 25, 30 thousand, cash."

The cloud grew thicker.

"Or…" realized Lara as she tucked her arms under her breasts and lowered her chin.

Gwenn sat down gently and asked, "Yes?"

"Since no one knows where the treasure site is or that you guys have these vehicles at your disposal, we could drive there, bring a few choice items back to Cairo, sell them, rent the chopper, buy more supplies and get on with it."

Bob and Gwenn looked at each other and nodded.

"When," asked Lara's new friends, simultaneously.

"Now?"

* * * * *

Meanwhile, back at the dungeon, Sasha Nash's mega-multiple came to a spectacular end and the pulley hook was reconnected to her ball bind ropes. She was soon lifted from the honey-saturated plank, lowered to the floor, and laid onto her side, where her gag was removed.

"Don't you think I would have told you where she was by now if I knew?"

"Free everything but her wrists and bring her to me," ordered the Sheik through Chasheer's headset. "Gag her if necessary."

Two henchmen accomplished the task quickly, slipped Sasha into a pair of 6-inch heels, and covered her nakedness with a black, ankle-length, felt cape.

Twenty-Five Minutes Later

Sasha Nash decided to keep her mouth shut rather than run the risk of having it stuffed with something hard and too big as she stepped out of the Sheik's limo, blindfolded, and was led to the foot of his jumbo's staircase. While climbing its unfamiliar surface, highpoints from her ball bind ordeal inundated Sasha's local memory, giving her cause to wonder if the bondage experts now in charge of her future had other, more compelling means of persuasion waiting at the top of the stairs.

"Maybe I'm better off not knowing anything," she figured as she was led into the rear end of the 747. "If I'd been able to tell them what they want to know, who knows what they would have done with me afterwards."

Her nipples had gone rock hard on her again. They rubbed up against the soft felt of the cape, while down below, another rush of kinky excitation slowly overtook her crevice. Without thinking, she made two fists and tried once again to free her wrists from the four, tightly cinched circles of thick rope that held them fast and together behind her back. The effort only served to compound the reigniting of her passion and made it clear that, whatever happened next, Sasha would have very little, if any control over how many orgasms she had before her current ordeal ended.

"Holy moley."

She was led deeper into the aircraft, but could hear nothing en route. Only her sense of smell and hearing told the ex model anything about where she was. Sweet fragrances and soothing chime sounds did little to ease her mind or quell the passion building up between her legs.

"Maybe I'm in a brothel," she speculated. "Maybe they're going to sell me to some Madame and ship me out to Japan or… Geeze!"

"Stop," said Chasheer, the Mad One, just before he unzipped and removed the cape. The sound of a door latch could be heard in back of Sasha's nakedness. A few seconds later, feminine hands busily sponged what was left of the honey off of her shins and knees, while others used moist, scented towels on the rest of Sasha's body to remove the sweat and such her dungeon ordeal had manufactured all over the bondage video producer's toned and beautifully stacked physique. 

"If I didn't know better," she surmised, "I could swear I was in a harem."

It was then that Sasha put two-and-two together and blurted, without thinking, "Achmed?"

"Very good," said the Sheik from his vantage point a few feet to the right of Nash's suddenly stiffened countenance, just before the body washers left the cabin and its occupants to their outrageous thoughts. Girlish giggling accompanied their egress.

"Remove the blindfold," said the Sheik.

Sasha waited for that to happen. When it didn't, she figured the order was addressed to her. Achmed watched her effort gleefully. The five-foot, eight-inch beauty's balance was mildly challenged atop her 6-inch heels. The blindfold was wrapped tightly and knotted three times in the back of her head. It took a good two minutes of titillating exertion to remove. 

When it fell to the floor, and Nash regained her physical composure, the sight of Achmed's naked body, sprawled out on several, huge throw pillows, was the first image she processed into her already overwhelmed awareness.

"Oh-my-God," commented Sasha to herself when her somewhat blurred focus gazed down at her abductor's 10-inch, circumcised, rock hard erection, which he had been stroking since she entered the cabin.

"I've waited long and hard for this moment, dear Sasha," admitted the Sheik.

"So what else is new," quipped Nash to herself as another blast of passion bombarded her now, thoroughly soaked pussy.

A click on a remote activated the huge, high definition TV screen in the corner of the cabin. Footage of Sasha's ordeal in the six-by-six cell in which she'd awakened to find herself severely ball bound captured her attention while Achmed enjoyed her reaction to the show. Several erotic seconds passed before the billionaire continued his interrogation.

"Tell me all you know about Lara Cross."

In the minutes that followed, Sasha did just that, with superfluous embellishments, to make sure the Sheik's curiosity was abundantly satisfied in a way that suggested his captive had nothing to hide. When the revelation ended, Sasha was, on screen, being lowered into the dungeon vat. 

Achmed said softly, "Come here."

Sasha did as she was told.

"Kneel."

As she did, the blazing heat between her legs doubled.

"Pleasure me with your mouth."

"…And if I don't?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out."

Sasha's attention was riveted to the TV screen.

"No."

Her facial expression was particularly defiant. The Sheik smiled and pressed a button on the small, arms length console to his right. The door to the cabin immediately opened and in stepped two, very formidable looking Dommes, dressed in skin tight, black-spandex jump suits and very high heels. They dragged Sasha back to the middle of the cabin and proceeded to very tightly parallel bind her elbows, ankles, upper calves and lower thighs together. They then stood her up and, while one held her firmly, the other severely bound her arms to her torso with 50-feet of 3/8ths thick hemp. 

"Uh," commented Sasha, not a few times, as the extreme determination of the bind robbed her of what was left of her mobility and placed her on the edge of yet another multiple.

"As tight as possible," said the Sheik as, he too, teetered on the edge of another ejaculation, an outcome both he and Sasha knew held the potential to forestall the blow job for at least another twenty minutes should Achmed lose orgasmic control.

Every turn of torso rope was cinched tightly before Sasha was laid on her stomach and brutally hogtied to her elbow bind. Her wrist cinch was then crotch roped to the three circles around her waist. Its pressure dug unmercifully deep into her pussy. In all her life, Sasha had never been this tightly bound, though many of her 'no choice' models had, a fact that did not escape her sense of judicial consequence.

The Dommes left the room.

"You will stay that way," warned the Sheik, "until I get exactly what I want. Now come over here and do what you eventually must do."

"…And if I don't?" half-heartedly tested Sasha Nash.

Her bound ankles touched the tops of her forearms. Even her heels had been tied on.

"Then you will be chloroformed, placed in a trunk, and taken back to your cell, where you will stay, tied like that, until you beg to fuck my cock with your mouth."

Sasha unleashed a Herculean effort to escape, knowing the sight of her doing so would severely test Achmed's self-control and prolong her ordeal until such a time as she had no choice but to acquiesce. Several, unbelievably stimulating seconds passed before neither of them could stop the next wave of sexual consequence from pounding against the shoreline of their delayed gratification.

The cabin reverberated with verbal feedback as Sasha both enjoyed and hated what her bondage was doing to her body, while the Sheik stood and came all over his new plaything's, naked and wildly writhing satisfaction. The two Domme's stood just outside the door, with arms tucked under their ample, but very restricted breasts, snickering and cracking tiny smiles as they listened to the feedback their handiwork had spectacularly succeeded in manufacturing.

"And to think," recalled the more dominant of the two, "we both used to work for HER."

"Yeah," said the other, "I guess we could say the shoe is now on the other foot."

Caravan

It took most of the day for Lara and her new partners to put their expedition together. After late afternoon naps, they each sat behind the wheels of the three vehicles selected to make the tenacious move, topped off all the fuel tanks at the nearest gas station, including several cans and containers, and headed for the treasure site.


concludes in Part Five

John Roper

 

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23.10.05 | updated - 06.05.17

 

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