The Adventures of Star
Eagle
Episode 3
by L'Espion
Chapter
2
Kleine
Colty waited until it was completely
dark. It hadn’t taken her
too long to locate Kleine and it had only cost Mason a few thousand
dollars. It helped that Kleine
had decided to take refuge in
The northern Mexican countryside was something she was not used to. She had seen deserts before, but she had never wandered around one at night. All about her were strange sounds as the various desert creatures awoke and took up their nighttime regimes. It was a little creepy for a city girl like Colty, but she did not let it deter her from her purpose.
She was well equipped for her mission. She was wearing a skintight black leather outfit that covered her from neck to ankles. Strapped to her right thigh was a Glock 31. Just over her left hip was a large bowie knife, and tucked into her boots were two smaller knives. Additionally, she carried her usual array of equipment in the compact carrying bag that was slung over her shoulder.
A few hundred feet across the broken desert surface was a small ranch house. It was typically Mexican, being constructed of whitewashed adobe. Kleine was in there or at least her informants had told her he was. And from the number of men patrolling the empty desert she judged that he probably was.
She waited a half hour after sunset. She couldn’t leave it too long, as there was going to be a full moon tonight. She would have about an hour to work her way close enough to find out if Kleine was where she thought he was.
The men guarding the ranch house were bored. It made her job that much easier. Instead of keeping a vigilant watch they stood together and spoke in low tones. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was quite easy to work her way around them.
A half hour of stealthy movement brought her to the back of the building. She avoided the door, choosing instead one of the windows. Carefully she eased open the shutters, and then pried open the window. Inside the room was dark. She listened carefully and detected no sound. The room seemed empty. Placing her hands on the sill she effortlessly swung into the room. She stood quietly for a few seconds and then moved carefully across to the door, using a small flashlight to show the way.
Outside the door she could hear the sound of voices. Listening carefully she soon realized that the men in the room were playing cards. Their voices were animated and punctuated with oaths and laughter. It was apparent that they were enjoying themselves and expecting no trouble. Colty smiled. That was about to change.
She eased the door open a crack. Four men were seated about a table. It was crowded with beer cans and full ashtrays and an assortment of snack foods. More importantly, was the fact that one of the men was her quarry. Her sources had been correct. From her hiding place she watched for about fifteen minutes. She wanted to make sure that there were only the four men in the house. Outside there were four men on guard duty, but with a little ingenuity she should be able to handle all of them.
Finally satisfied that she faced only four opponents, Colty acted. From her shoulder bag she took out a gas grenade. It was a somewhat illegal but effective device, especially in enclosed spaces such as the room where the men were seated. She pulled the pin, released the firing mechanism, and then tossed it under the table.
The men reacted before the grenade stopped rolling, leaping up and spilling beer cards, snacks and cigarette butts onto the floor, but they were not fast enough. The grenade exploded filling the room with a thick white cloud. Colty followed almost immediately. She had strapped a small breathing apparatus over her nose. It would give her enough air for five minutes and that was all she would need.
She already had her gun in her hand. As she expected the commotion in the room attracted quite a bit of attention from the men outside. Almost immediately the door opened, but Colty had already hit the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. The moon had finally risen and the men in the doorway were beautifully silhouetted against it. She could quite easily have killed them all, but chasing them off would serve equally well. Raising her Glock she fired a half dozen shots in quick succession.
The sound of the gun going off in the small room was deafening. The men outside immediately backed away from the door. None of them had been hit, but the sound of the bullets striking the doorframe sent a clear message. Colty followed it up by tossing a stun grenade through the open doorway.
The startled yells of the men outside followed by the sound of running feet and then the roar of a car engine showed that the rest of Kleine’s men had gone.
Colty grinned. Her plan had worked to perfection. Now all she had to do was handcuff Kleine, march him across the desert to her plane and within a few hours she would be $250,000 richer. Her grin widened. It had all been so easy. She laughed. “I’m just getting too good at this sort of thing,” she thought. She unhooked her gas mask, and then something crashed into her head.
The blow did not knock her unconscious, but it almost did. She found herself on the filth covered floor, scrabbling around among the pools of beer and the cigarette butts. She tried to push herself up, but a heavy weight landed on her back knocking the breath out of her. Then her arms were roughly pulled behind her back. The touch of metal on her wrists and two sharp clicks told her that she had been handcuffed.
“Got you, bitch!” chortled a man’s voice. “Now to make sure you don’t go anywhere.”
Colty felt her belt being unbuckled. It was shifted down to her thighs where it was cinched tight, clamping her legs together. She lay helpless on the floor.
She was able to get a good look at the man who had attacked her as he revived the men she had gassed. He was a nondescript sort of thug, heavyset with heavy eyebrows and a pug nose. But his appearance did not matter. He had captured her and now she was at the mercy of the man she had thought was her prisoner.
“What the hell have we got here?” Kleine asked, surveying the helpless leather clad woman who now sat in one of the chairs the card players had occupied.
“Some bounty hunter I think, boss. She was carrying quite an array of equipment.”
“Yeah,” agreed Kleine. “And that’s not all she’s carrying.” His eyes swept over the svelte form the woman who sat glowering at him. He guessed that she was probably in her mid-twenties. She was remarkably good looking. Tall, probably about six feet in height, and built like a brick shit house. Her black leather outfit revealed every delicious curve. And her tits were truly imposing.
“Where you from, babe?” he asked, lifting the beautiful gray-eyed blonde’s face so that he could see her better. “Great face too,” he thought. High cheekbones, perfectly arched eyebrows, straight nose. She could have been a model rather than a private dick.
“Don’t call me, babe,” Colty answered evenly. Her voice was calm and gave no hint of fear. Inside it was another matter. How could she had been so bloody careless? She hadn’t even bothered to check the back rooms. No doubt the goon that had hit her had been lying down. Probably resting up for his turn outside.
Kleine grinned. “Pretty feisty ain’t she boys? I think we’re going to have a lot of fun with this one.”
He stepped forward and slapped the blonde’s face, causing her chair to teeter from the force of the blow. “Why don’t you answer my question?” Kleine said, catching her before she fell and setting the chair back on its legs.
Colty shook her head. The blow was not unexpected. She was after all the prisoner of a bunch of thugs. But it had been delivered with considerable force, badly bruising her left cheek.
Kleine slapped her again. This time left handed, imprinting her right cheek in an identical manner. “You’re not fast enough, babe. Answer when you’re told to. Now where are you from?”
“
“See, that wasn’t so tough,” Kleine said. “Now how did you find me and how did you get here?”
“That’s two questions,” Colty retorted. “Which one do you want answered first?”
One of the men chortled loudly. “Looks like you haven’t tamed her yet, boss.”
“No, I guess not,” replied Kleine. “Pick her up,” he ordered.
Two of the men hauled Colty to her feet. With her hands handcuffed behind her (“With her own handcuffs,” she thought angrily.) and her thighs tightly bound by her own belt, there was nothing she could do to protect herself. Kleine delivered two punches to her midsection.
Colty saw the blows coming and had time to prepare herself. Her martial arts training allowed her to resist the blows without much effect. Kleine stared at her almost unbelieving. “Tough bitch, hey? Well, let’s just see how tough you are. He hit her again.
For the next five minutes Kleine used Colty’s midriff as a punching bag. He was a big man and every punch was delivered with his full body weight behind it. Eventually Colty’s resistance collapsed and the last six punches were driven into her unprotected stomach and solar plexus. The beating left her gasping for breath like a dying fish.
Dropping her back into the chair, her captors held her there while she recovered. Then, after about fifteen minutes, Klein asked one of the questions again. “How did you find me?’
“I…I’m a detective,” Colty gasped painfully. “I tracked… you here.”
“And what were your sources, babe? Who told you where I was?”
“You…weren’t that hard…to follow. I just paid off a few Mexicans.” Carly was deliberately vague. She had no intention of placing the lives of her informants in danger. Kleine was reputed to hold grudges and those grudges often resulted in deaths.
“Now, how did you get here?”
“I drove,” Carly lied. Her plane was the fast way to get Kleine back to the states before his bond expired. There was no way she was going to tell him where it was. She hoped that Kleine wouldn’t ask her where her nonexistent car was.
He didn’t. Instead he crowed over his triumph in forcing her to talk. “There that wasn’t so bad was it, babe? Once you get talking it’s easy to just keep on doing it.”
Colty gave him a cold-eyed stare. It was apparent that she was not beaten. At least not yet.
“I think you need another lesson, babe,” Kleine said, dropping his eyes. “You need to be shown who’s boss. Pick her up again and bring her over here.”
Two of the men took Colty under the arms and carried her to the table which had once more been righted. Its surface was clear, the beer cans and other refuse that cluttered it still littering the floor. “Bend her over, boys and tie her ankles to the legs,” Kleine ordered.
Colty blanched as she was bent forward over the table. Kleine held her in place while the belt holding her thighs together was undone and her legs were pulled apart. Some sort of binding was used to tie each ankle to the legs of the table, spreading her wide. She was still fully clothed, but felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable.
“Now babe,” Kleine said, as he moved behind her, “I’m going to show you who’s in charge around here.” He placed his hand in the top of her pants, located the zipped and pulled it down.
“Get your god-damned hands off me, you bastard!” Colty cried.
Kleine laughed. “What are you going to do if I don’t, sue me? I’m gonna show you haw a man treats a woman that doesn’t pay him proper respect.” With a quick jerk he forced her pants down to thigh level, exposing her black lace thong. He backside was almost completely exposed.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” Colty swore. “Touch me and you’ll lose that hand.”
“I’m not gonna lose anything,” Kleine laughed. “Just gonna bury something for awhile.”
“No, you bastard. I’ll kill you if you do.”
Kleine guffawed loudly. Placing his hand in the waistband of her thong he pulled, snapping the flimsy material and pulling it from her loins.
“Stop, you prick,” Colty shouted. “Don’t touch me again.”
Her protest was met only by more laughter. Desperately she tired to break free of the restraints that held her, but steel handcuffs were far beyond her strength. Nor was she able to release her ankles from the cords that tied her ankles to the table legs. Behind her she could hear Kleine fumbling with his clothing. She knew that he was unzipping his pants and releasing his swollen phallus.
A wave of fear swept over her. At the age of twenty six, she was not a virgin, and during her life she had taken several lovers, but she had never been raped. It was terrifying to think that a complete stranger could take her by force. As he pressed his body against her she struggled wildly to escape.
“Christ look at that gorgeous ass wiggle,” exclaimed Kleine. “I think she really wants it.”
Kleine watched the bucking private eye in wonder. Her golden blonde hair flew in all directions and she gyrated her body in a futile attempt to avoid her fate. Her vulva, outlined by the golden fleece that surrounded it flexed open revealing its pink interior. The smooth muscles of her backside contracted powerfully in the dim light of the single naked bulb that illuminated the interior of the ranch house.
“What a fucking babe,” he exclaimed. His member now felt as stiff as an iron bar. Placing his hands on her hips he prepared to enter her.
“No, you bastard,” the struggling beauty protested. “You touch me and I’ll have your balls.”
“Never gives up, this one. Don’t worry, babe this isn’t going to hurt much.” As he finished speaking he pulled hard on her hips and drove his pelvis forward.
“Noooohh!” Colty screamed. It was a cry of pure rage. How could she have let herself be taken by this criminal lowlife?
“God she’s tight,” grunted Kleine. He was pushing with all his might as he fought to enter the thrashing woman’s unlubricated vagina. “Could have used a bit of petroleum jelly on this one.” He withdrew slightly and then thrust forward with all of his weight and strength.
“Uunnngghh!” Colty grunted. Kleine was really hurting her. She had never imagined that rape could be so painful. But even more than the pain was the humiliation of being taken like an animal. Try as she might she could not avoid what the brutal thug was doing to her. Adding to her shame were the lewd comments made by Kleine’s gang as they cheered on their boss.
“Give it to her boss. She’s really feeling it now. Ream that tight cunt. Teach that stuck up bitch a lesson she’ll never forget.”
Kleine needed no encouragement. He hammered the helpless PI for a good hour. All Colty could do was grit her teeth and endure. Finally with a series of bestial grunts Kleine ejaculated, spilling his load within her.
Colty gasped in relief as Kleine finished with her. She was exhausted from an hour of ceaseless struggling. She leaned against the table for support, mindful of the wetness that dripped from her ravished vagina.
“How about we have a go, boss?” asked the man who had hit Colty from behind.
“Why not, Boze?” answered Kleine. “After all you were the one who bopped her on the head. I’ve got her all ready for you. Just make sure you leave her ass alone. I want to save that for another day.”
“No,” Colty gasped. “Not again.” There was a note of pleading and fear in her voice this time.
Boze chuckled menacingly as she unbuckled his pants. The “zzzzzzz” as his zipper was pulled down sent a thrill of fear through her.
“You piece of filth,” Colty said. “I’ll kill you for this.”
“This bitch sure likes to make threats,” Boze said. “So far I haven’t seen any evidence that she can carry any of them out.” He moved behind the trembling woman and pushed his rigid member into her.
“Ahhh!” Colty cried. The second rape was much worse than the first. Boze was better endowed than Kleine, but more importantly, in the time between the two rapes the tender lining of her vagina had time to swell. As Boze intruded into her he caused severe pain.
Bowing her head and gritting her teeth she fought to survive the brutal invasion of her body. She wanted to cry; to beg for mercy; to plead with her ravisher to stop, but she fought off such impulses. The humiliation of the rape was bad enough. To degrade herself further in front of Kleine and his thugs would have been too mortifying.
She endured. The third rape was not as bad as the second. By now her vagina was so slick with seminal fluid from Kleine and Boze that the third man, a lanky thug called Caltman, hardly hurt her at all by comparison. It was as similar case with the fourth. He finished her off with a porcine grunt. To Colty’s horror Boze proposed that they all start again, but Kleine overrode him.
“No,” he said, “I still want some information from her. I don’t buy her story about driving down here. She doesn’t strike me as the sort who tries to sneak this arsenal through customs.” Kleine and his boys had found all of Colty’s weapons and placed them in a neat row on one of the shelves in the room. The crime boss gestured toward them to prove his point.
“Let’s see if she is a bit more willing to talk now.” Kleine pulled Colty’s pants back up. “Turn her around,” he ordered.
Boze and Caltman untied her ankles from the table legs and turned her so that she faced Kleine. “You filthy pig,” Colty said, spitting out the words. “You will pay for what you did to me if it takes me forever.”
“You might not have that long to live, babe,” Kleine
answered. “Whether I decide
to keep you alive or not depends on your
answers. But rest assured, before
I kill you me and the boys will have a little more fun with
you. Now tell
me. How did you get
here? And no bullshit about coming
by car.”
Colty dared not answer the question. Her only way out of her predicament was if Kleine did not know about her plane. Once he discovered that she was a trained pilot he would almost certainly force her to fly him to safety, and then her usefulness would be at an end.
“I told you,” she said. She tried desperately to make her lie sound convincing. “I drove.”
“Alright then,” Kleine replied. “I’ll have Boze get your car. Just tell me where it is.”
Colty was trapped. She couldn’t think of a convenient way to lie her way out of the situation. She simply looked dumbly at Kleine unable to think of anything to say.
“I thought so,” said Kleine. “Boys our little PI needs a bit more persuasion. String her up. It’s time she found out what happens to anyone who crosses me.”
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