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The taxi pulled up in front of a smart but otherwise ordinary looking house in the Moscow suburbs.  Paul was a few minutes early for the rendezvous with a new potential business partner, the mysterious Nastasya.  He had contacted her after seeing a small ad in the “for sale” section of an obscure art journal referring to Russian icons.  He considered himself an international specialist art dealer, but the reality was more prosaic: he had built up a couple of contacts in the Moscow  criminal  underworld  who were  supplying  him with stolen,

highly valuable, religious icons that were considered Russian national treasures. He bought them, smuggled them out of Moscow and sold them at a substantial profit to certain unscrupulous elements of the London art market.

After some preliminary emails and phone calls and amidst some secrecy, Nastasya had summoned him to a meeting at this address to discuss a potential deal.  Over the last few days he had convinced her that he would be able to meet her demands regarding the items he was looking for and to assure her, he was completely genuine. For her part, it was abundantly clear from her questions that Nastasya was an expert in her field.  Paul knocked at the door, confident of a purchase. 

He was, however, ill prepared for the vision of beauty that greeted him.  She was stunningly gorgeous. Her figure was exquisite and her fine facial features were accentuated by her long blond hair, which was tied up at the back of her head.  Her large dark brown eyes immediately seemed to pierce his soul as if she already knew everything about him. 

Having ushered him in, she closed and mortice-locked the door and showed him into the living room.  Paul took the opportunity to admire the way she looked.  She was dressed in a finely tailored navy blue skirt suit over a white blouse open at the neck, revealing a modest amount of cleavage.  Her wonderful calves, encased in sheer black stockings were accentuated by classic high heels.  Nastasya looked every inch the professional business woman. 

Nastasya dispensed with all formalities.

“You will allow me to body search you.  We can’t be too careful.  I have to make sure you are who you say you are and of course we have certain security requirements.  But first please take off your jacket.”

He handed her the jacket. It had been more of an order than a request. She expertly went through all the pockets, swiftly locating and removing a well stuffed white envelope.  She verified the contents. “This is the down payment I take it?”  He nodded.

Paul considered objecting, but thought better of it, not wishing to jeopardise the deal over this seeming triviality. 

“Assume the position please! Legs well-apart!”

She began the thorough body search. Paul was used to this level of security and unquestioningly did as he was told. “Besides” He thought to himself, “what man could object to being frisked by this wonderful woman?”

“Intertwine your fingers and put them behind your neck Paul.”   Paul complied unhesitatingly believing this to all to be fairly routine.

“So you have the money available today?” She enquired as her hands moved expertly over the whole of his body.

“Yes, I can have it for you in an hour once we’ve negotiated a price.”

The next sensation he had was not so expected though.  He was shocked by a sharp sensation of hard cold steel biting into his wrists as Nastasya had in a flash expertly handcuffed him. 

“Ah yes the negotiation.  Well Paul, I think the price you will accept is going to be very different this time.  I am a member of the Russian Police Special Investigation Force and you are under arrest for trading in illegal Russian artefacts contrary to International Law and I shall be interrogating you prior to bringing charges.  Upon conviction you will face a minimum of fifteen years in jail.  In the meantime you will be held here to answer some questions.  I suggest for your own sake, you co-operate fully.  Now get down on your knees.” 

Paul swore.  In a flash, Nastasya had slapped his face very hard. 

“Get down I said. You will show me some respect.  You will address me as Mistress Nastasya and you will do as I say.” She demanded.  Another slap landed just as hard and just as painfully.  “Do you understand?”

Paul nodded. Another slap!

“Answer me!”

Paul learnt quickly. “Yes Mistress Nastasya.”  He got down on his hands and knees, stunned by the force of the slaps and the desperate turn of events.”

Within moments she’d blindfolded him and was pushing and kicking him into the hall, up the stairs and into another room on the next floor.  She secured him to the far wall and without ceremony, pulled open the buttons of his shirt and efficiently stripped him naked from the waist down.  Expertly she attached leg spreaders to his ankles forcing his legs well apart: he was effectively immobilised.  Despite his previous protestations, it was however, the fully equipped interrogation room that greeted his eyes when she pulled off the blindfold that caused him to physically blanch.  He shuddered, desperately afraid of what was about to happen to him.  He was by now under no illusion that Nastasya was indeed who she said she was and fully intended to carry out her threat.

“Tell me who you are intending to sell the icons to?”

He wouldn’t tell her so she slapped him.  She slapped his face, his legs even his cock.  He resisted. But she was supremely talented.  Next she concentrated on his nipples, cock and balls, stretching, tormenting, whacking, twisting them, using all kinds of tools and implements to cause him extreme pain.  No part of his body was exempt from her attentions.  She took him to the very limit of his endurance so that sometimes he thought he’d faint with the excruciating pain she put him through. 

Nastasya knew she’d get every ounce of the information she needed from him eventually, but a girl’s entitled to have some fun at work!  She used all manner of methods and implements on him and just as he thought he’d tell her the name she wanted to know, Nastasya backed off, prolonging his agony allowing him to recover so she’d be able to cause him yet more pain.  Her smile, as she made him writhe in agony was cold and calculating.  Paul was mesmerised by her.  It was if he was bewitched, he could easily have told her the name of his contact earlier but he knew it would disappoint her.  However, when the time came and Nastasya had had enough of this pitiful man begging her to stop, she subjected him to one last most excruciating onslaught and he immediately gave up the name of his contact.  She’d had hours of fun and as she’d always known she would, she had the confirmation of the name she’d known for weeks.  And yet such was her expertise that there was hardly a mark on him.

Nastasya took a few moments break.  She’d been impressed with the level of pain he’d suffered, allowing her to have more fun than she’d anticipated.  Paul for his part, thinking that his torment was almost over, used the time to think about his future and the prospect of many years in jail.  Perhaps if he could get the British Consulate involved he might get some help, he thought to himself.  He decided to try.

“Please Mistress Nastasya I’d like to see the British Consul; I need to get some advice.”

Nastasya smiled wickedly.  “But of course Paul, do you think we are barbarians, we work very closely with the British Government. After all these are interesting times and there is a great deal of international co-operation fighting crimes such as yours.  I have a very close working relationship with my colleague at the British Embassy. We told them of your arrest and the consul promised to be here very shortly to deal with you.”

Somehow Paul was not reassured by this and he was especially confused by the fact that Nastasya was making no attempts to conceal what she had just been doing to him.   Almost on cue, the door opened and before him was a magnificent, tall, lithe, vision of female beauty, dark curly locks cascading to her shoulders.  She was dressed immaculately in a dark suit which accentuated her incredible legs but most striking of all was the fact that in her right hand she was carrying a vicious looking riding crop.

“Good afternoon Paul, my name is Lady Samantha de Mountfess, the British Consul and I’m here to deal with your case.  I’m told you’ve been very naughty.” Turning to Nastasya, “You’ve got the information you need I assume darling?  What would you like to do with him now?  Personally I think he deserves a darn good hiding.”

Nastasya smiled conspiratorially.  “I think that’s a very good idea.  And after we’ve given him a thorough thrashing, we’ll see what he’s fit for,” she said ominously.

Paul gasped.  He’d thought that now he’d given up the name of his contact he’d be charged and at least find out what was to happen to him, but it wasn’t to be and he was about to be subjected to further torments.

 “Well let’s see now, he’s been a very naughty little boy so let’s treat him like one. Why don’t we start with a darn good bottom spanking.  That should warm him up nicely,” proposed Lady Samantha. Without further delay they forcefully positioned him so that his pert bum was perfectly presented for punishment and before he knew it two gorgeous women were administering, to his defenceless bottom, the spanking to end all spankings, turning his once pale bottom a wonderful shade of deepest pink. 

Throughout the spanking they taunted and berated him for getting caught and for being such a stupid boy who needed to be spanked.  He tried his best not to show how sore they were making his bottom, but the terrible burning spreading across his buttocks was getting worse and worse.  Eventually, the hand spanking stopped, but to his horror, only for the women to take up lethal looking paddles and tawses, as the two women gave his bottom the most terrible hiding.

By the time they had finished, his bottom felt as if it was a blazing fire and tears were running down his face. He was openly pleading with and telling them how sorry he was and that he’d never do anything like this again.  The two women were having too much fun to care very much but eventually they decided that the poor boy had suffered enough. 

While Paul got his breath back, they consulted together.

“Paul we have a deal for you.  We want to catch the whole of this smuggling ring and we are offering you your freedom providing you infiltrate the gang and find out who the head of it is.  You will work for us and do everything we say.  Once we have the head of the gang in jail, your file will be closed and all charges dropped.”

Paul was exhausted but managed to nod his acceptance.

“But first we need to know we can trust you.  We have to be sure that you are completely under our control and you will do anything for us and I do mean absolutely anything. We need to know that you will follow our every instruction without hesitation.  To this end we have devised a series of tests.  If you fail any of them… well you know the consequences.”

He knew he had no choice but to agree to the terms.  They left him briefly, only to return a few moments later dressed in black basques, suspenders, stockings and high heels.  He could barely believe his eyes.  Here in two stunning visions of womanhood were all his dreams and nightmares rolled into one.

And so his long hours of trials began.  Each ordeal was more demanding or more humiliating than the last and tested his obedience to the extreme. He did things that he thought he’d never do; the two women devising wicked and painful torments which tested his endurance levels far beyond what he believed he was capable of.  They made him drink their urine; they made him play with himself in front of them; they fucked him with a strap-on until he thought he was fit to pass out and then they would change positions for the other to fuck him even more brutally.  Whilst one fucked him the other filled his mouth with another huge strap-on and made him suck it until his mouth was bone dry.  All the time his cock and balls were tightly bound to stop him getting erect.  They kissed and fondled each other knowing how much it would enflame him and make his cock and balls strain and bite against their constraints.

He was their ultimate plaything as they tested him to make sure that he would indeed, do absolutely anything they asked of him.  He knew he must not fail any test for to do so surely would mean that these women could have him thrown into jail for the rest of his life.

They debased him and humiliated him testing the levels to which he was prepared to go for them.  But something strange was happening to him, he felt an immense sense of elation as he submitted fully to these wonderful women.  He began to trust them implicitly and somehow it was as if now his only purpose was to serve them for as long as they had a use for him. 

He gave himself up to them totally. What choice did he have after all…?

The End
 

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