TALL, BLOND AND BOUND
     by Zebulon

This is a work of fiction.  No reference to real persons is 
intended.  It contains strong, non-traditional sexual imagery 
and language.  If you don't like this kind of thing, don't read it.

This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper 
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted, 
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is 
being posted. 
          
     Feedback is welcome.  Zebulon@fastmail.ca

     (MF, FF, Bond)

*   *   *   *   *   Start of Part 1   *   *   *   *   *

     She looked like a Greek goddess, pushing her shopping
cart imperiously down the frozen food aisle.  It wasn't her
obvious beauty that first caught his attention.  He had dealt
with stunningly beautiful women most of his life.  It wasn't her
rich shoulder-length blond hair.  He wasn't her large breasts or
shapely ass.  It was her height.

     Vincent del Aguila had always been attracted to tall
women.  Most especially, tall blond women.  He himself had
dark blond hair and was exactly six feet tall.  He was strong,
hard, angular and looked rather like a Viking sea captain of
yore.

     Vincent had tremendous vision.  As a kid it earned him the
nickname 'Eagle' and the name stuck.  The Eagle also had a
magnificent eye for beauty and a special talent for being able
to visualize what a fully clothed woman would look like with
her clothes removed.  It had proven a valuable professional
asset.  His cover was that of a freelance fashion photographer. 
But he made his real money as a recruiter and part-time trainer
for the Mart, the largest and most powerful of the secret white
slave organizations.  He had the reputation of always getting
his girl.  Once he had selected or been assigned a victim, she
was as good as got.

     At present, the Eagle was between assignments.  He had
collected a great deal of money for his last project and didn't
have a fashion shoot in the works.  He was more or less on an
indefinite holiday.  He was staying in one of the Mart's safe
houses near a secluded beach resort and had decided to take
a little time to lie around and soak up some relaxation.  Then
this gorgeous woman strolled by.  Her face was beautifully
aristocratic and seemed vaguely familiar.  She had wondrous
blue eyes, a magnificent figure, and looked to be about thirty. 
He wondered how difficult she would be to recruit.  Even as
he contemplated the problem he found himself following.

                      *   *   *   *   *

     Two hours later, the statuesque beauty was in very much
the same posture, but instead of pushing a shopping cart, she
was standing buck naked on a concrete floor with her hands
shackled to a horizontal iron bar.  Her beautiful blue eyes were
wide with fear.  They were leaking tears.  Her mouth was
filled with an inflatable gag that was tied behind her head.  The
iron bar was set into the side wall of a large basement.  It was
five feet above the floor and a half foot out from the wall. 
There were a couple of ring clamps set 30 inches apart on the
bar to which the woman's wrists had been locked.  The light
in the little room was dim.  The air was dry and warm.

     The Eagle was sitting in a comfortable chair a half dozen
feet directly behind his bound victim.  He was admiring his
handiwork and allowing her to reach the proper state of terror
before continuing.  He loved her shapely back, the curve of
her ass, her long graceful legs.

     The trouble with most tall women is that gravity and nature
work against classic beauty.  After you weed out those who
are too old, too young, too funny looking, the just plain ugly. 
After you cut the field down to the obvious beauties, there is
still a marked tendency for tall women to have excessively
long, stork-like legs; or to have extremely wide and very flat
behinds; or to have very little in the way of upper
development.  Many of the tall women he'd seen over the
years reminded him of a Tyrannosaurs-Rex.  Small upper and
large lower bodies--like pieces of a mismatched bathing suit.

     But this girl.  She was sculpted like a 5'6" beauty only
proportionally larger.  He guessed she was 6'2" and looked
even better naked than he had imagined.  She had generous,
well proportioned, breasts.  Not the prettiest he'd ever seen,
but quite nice.  Her triangle of pubic hair was true blond
instead of the dirty brown of many fair complected women. 
That and her rich tan made him sure she must do a lot of nude
sun bathing.  Or perhaps she frequented tanning salons.

     After having trussed her, he went upstairs to make some
arrangements.  Then he got dressed in something more
comfortable.  He returned wearing only a loosely fitting set of
hospital scrubs and slippers.  He was sipping an ice cold can
of root beer.

     He let his eyes wander over her backside and felt his dick
harden.  The woman was trembling visibly.  She turned her
head slightly as if to try to peak at what was happening behind
her.

     "I told you to keep your eyes forward, bitch!" he shot out.

     Her head jerked quickly back.  She would have voided her
bladder again, if she hadn't completely emptied it earlier.  Her
urine soaked clothes were lying in the bottom of a large trash
canister in the corner.  Her quivering increased.

     When he judged the time was ripe, he stood up and moved
toward the bound angel.  She heard him and began to whimper
into her gag.  He was standing directly behind her.  For a long
while nothing happened.

     And then she felt the ice cold can touching lightly against
the top of the crack in her ass.  She twitched away.

     "Don't move, slut!"

     She felt the can again, pressing a little harder this time. 
She felt it move slowly up her spine.  She felt his free hand
brush her long hair to one side.  The can reached the nape of
her neck, just below the hair line.  It changed course and
moved across her right shoulder and down under her armpit. 
It came to rest against the side of her breast which exploded
into goose flesh.  Her right nipple went rock hard.  The can
moved away and was replaced a few moments later by cold
fingers.

     The woman was shaking almost violently now.  She found
it difficult to keep her balance.  She feared her legs were going
to give way at any moment.  He hadn't even asked her what
her name was.  Hadn't looked in her pocketbook to find out. 
'Andrea Bryce,' she thought to herself, squeezing her eyes
tightly shut and trying to take her mind off the fear and the
feel of the fingers on her nipple.  'My name is Andrea Bryce,
Goddammit, and I don't deserve this.'

     Andrea had run away to her family's beach front condo the
day before to get away from her boyfriend.  They'd had a fight
and he had slapped her.  No one had ever struck her before. 
She hadn't even been spanked as a child.  There had been a
frozen moment of shock on both sides.  Then she'd started
screaming at him to get out.  After he had gone, Andrea had
quickly packed and left.  When her boyfriend came back a half
hour later to apologize she wasn't there.  No one had a right
to treat her that way.  Not her boyfriend and not this asshole
who had abducted her from the supermarket parking lot in her
own car.

     She felt the hand move away.  Her inner voice gathered
strength and said, 'Who are you, you son of a bitch, and why
are you doing this to me?'  Her trembling stopped.

     There was an minor explosion across the room.  It
shattered what little nerve she had managed to work up.  He
had thrown the half finished root beer toward the large trash
container and missed.  It had smashed into the brick wall and
hit the floor with splattering, fizzing thud.  Andrea was
trembling again.

     She felt his hands resting on her hips.  The right hand was
still cold from having held the can for so long.  She squirmed. 
The cold hand withdrew and she felt a sudden sharp slap on
the right ass cheek.  It stung like fire.  "I said don't move,
bitch!"  She froze.

     The hand came back.  Then both hands started moving
slowly and gently up her flanks.  He watched her skin almost
ripple at his touch.  Felt her abject panic.  She had lovely, soft
skin.  He took his time, pressing, rubbing, scratching,
exploring.  When he stopped his hands were resting on her
sides just below the armpits.  He leaned forward and pressed
his nose into her thick blond hair, just below the strap of the
gag.  He took a deep breath.  His legs were directly between
hers.  She could feel the tip of his dick through the loose cloth
of his scrubs pressing into the little triangle of space formed
between her crotch and upper thighs.

     His hands moved forward and cupped her breasts.  They
were very tight, almost no sag at all.  He let his hands rub
large circles around them, taking special pleasure in the feel of
her prominent nipples against his fingers and palms.  The
nipples were stiff, but otherwise she was totally unresponsive. 
He let his right hand travel down over her belly toward her
crotch.  It had lost the coldness from holding the drink. 
Andrea was sweating and her skin was moist.  His hand
moved between her legs.  With his fingers he gently pried the
flesh open and felt her clitoris.  The little bulb was soft and
dry.  He smiled.  That would change soon enough.

     The proper training would begin later, but right now he
wanted a little immediate gratification for the morning's
exertions.  He pulled his hand away from her pussy and
wrapped his arm around her waist.  Then moving backward he
pulled her with him so that she had to bend far forward to
keep her balance.  Her head was hanging down below the level
of the bar and her arms were stretched out over her head.  He
kicked first one and then the other of her feet to the sides so
that her legs were well spread.  Then, still holding her around
the waist with one arm, he reached down with the other hand
and undid the tie on the scrubs.  They fell to the floor around
his ankles and he stepped out of the pool of cloth.  She could
feel his prick against her tender flesh.

     "Where would you like it first, slut?  In your pussy or up
your ass?"

     She started to howl into the gag.  He released her waist,
took a half step back, and swatted her ass cheek again with
considerable force.  "Shut up, cunt."  She didn't quiet, but
instead jumped up and forward, pressing against the bar and
looked back at him with fear and shame.  He turned and
walked to a work bench returning a moment later with a
wicked looking length of stiff plastic tubing.  He lashed out
and caught her a stroke across both ass cheeks.  It left an ugly
red welt in its wake.  Andrea screeched into the gag and tried
to squirm as far away as possible.  He gave her a few more
strokes for good measure.

     "You want more, bitch?"

     She shook her head violently in the negative.

     "Then get your ass back where I put it.  Right now!"

     Whimpering and sniffling, she did so.  Once she had
resumed the position, he repeated his question, tapping her hip
gently with the plastic.  "So, where would you like it first--the
pussy or ass?"  She was crying and blubbering and had no way
of talking, but she mumbled something into the gag.

     He already knew what the answer would have to be.  The
ass would be terribly painful without lubrication, so she would
naturally choose the pussy first.  Even the pussy would be
painful in her current situation, but the ass would be
impossible.

     "What's that?" he said.  "The ass first?"

     She shook her head vigorously and shouted something into
the gag.

     "Ah.  The pussy first."

     Weeping, she nodded her head slowly and reluctantly.

     "Excellent choice."  He tapped the piece of tubing against
his open palm.  Andrea clenched her ass cheeks against the
expected blow.  She did not shift position.  But her abductor
only walked back to the work bench where he left the tube
and returned instead with a bottle of lubricant.  A dry cunt was
no fun for him either.

     He poured a large handful of the goo into his palm and
started massaging it over her ass.  It took the sting out of the
lash marks he had left.  Andrea moaned almost gratefully.  He
added a second large handful of goo and began working it in
and around her anus and pussy.  Soon his fingers were slipping
easily into both orifices.  Andrea was motionless.  She was
waiting for him to get it over with.  But that wasn't good
enough for his purposes.  Everything concerning a new recruit
had to be carefully controlled.  If the training didn't get off to
a good start it would add all kinds of problems and
complications later.

     He returned to the work bench and left the bottle returning
a moment later with two large clamps.  He came up behind her
and easily slipped his large prick into her.  She sighed.  Now
that the rape was actually in progress, it was almost as if a
load had been lifted off of her.  There was no longer any
feeling of responsibility to resist.  That's what he didn't want. 
For her to have that feeling of relief.  He leaned over and put
one hand around her waist again, pulling her pelvis tightly into
his.  His dick slipped into her even more deeply.

     She heard him hiss menacingly into her ear, "Now, don't
move, bitch!"  She stiffened.  She felt a ghastly sharp pain as
he attached one of the clamps to a tender nipple.  She
shuddered but didn't move.  He could feel the muscles in her
legs and vagina contracting with the torment.  He attached the
other clamp.  Andrea was vibrating with distress and terror. 
That was much better.

     The Eagle straightened up and, placing one hand firmly on
each of Andrea's hips, begin pumping away in earnest.  It was
great.  He took his time and came once in her pussy and once
more in her ass.

     Afterwards, he left her standing with his cum running down
her legs and made a trip upstairs to get another root beer. 
When he returned Andrea was standing again.  She was
leaning up against the bar and crying freely.  She had
somehow rubbed the nipple clamps off.  She had kicked them
across the room as if to hide them from her tormentor.

     Poor discipline, he thought, but that too will come in time. 
He sat in the chair and enjoyed his drink.  He studied her.  She
wasn't able to control her crying and couldn't ignore him.

     When he finished the drink he walked over and picked up
the clamps.  He untied one of her hands and made her stand at
attention with her back against the bar.  Then he reattached
the clamps.  He warned her against screaming and removed
the gag.  The noise wouldn't have attracted any unwanted
attention.  A Mart safe house was proof against that kind of
vulnerability.  But he didn't want her shrieking in his ear.  As
the gag came off she started to ask him something, but he
quickly put his hand up over her mouth and said, "Shhhh."  He
smiled into her tears and said, "we wouldn't want to spoil the
moment."

     Then he fucked her once more, just like that.  Standing
facing him.  He made her put her free hand around his neck. 
He tasted her lips and kissed her.  She was completely
unresponsive.  "You want the clamps off?"  She didn't speak
but nodded.  "Then kiss me."  She kissed him.  After a few
moments he broke it off and said.  "If you want the clamps off,
kiss me like you really mean it."  She did.

     After a long while he removed the clamps and kissed her
breasts.  Very carefully, almost tenderly he sucked her nipples. 
Andrea was almost shocked that it actually felt good.

     The Eagle loved this woman's body and the look of her
face.  She was one of the best.  She really turned him on.  He
would have to remember to ask her name.

*   *   *   *   *   End of Part 1   *   *   *   *   *

     TALL, BLOND AND BOUND
     by Zebulon

This story may be reposted anywhere as long as (1) proper 
credit is given, (2) I am informed of where it is being posted, 
and (3) I am allowed free access to the web site where it is 
being posted.