Jane's Bondage and Revenge

 

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Jane's Bondage and Revenge

By Saul Wright

Copyright

© 2013 by Saul Wright

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

ISBN: 978-1493697847

 

1. Jane’s Bondage

They told her there would be days like this. When you sign on to be a spy, one of the first things they tell you is not to get attached to anything. Everything important to you can subject you to some sort of compromise, so to be a good covert agent; you had to deny yourself many of the basic elements that make one human. There was the mission, and nothing else. Unspeakable acts are committed on both sides of the aisle, and it was to be expected. That was the trade-off.

If you get the right assignment, you get to live a pretty luxurious lifestyle. Nice cars, fancy houses, wining and dining, all on the government’s tab, paid for by the good citizens of the US of A. You get the latest weapons, futuristic gadgets, and access to information on most people living in the world today. Everybody had a file on them and all it took was a morbid curiosity and the right motivation for an agent to fuck someone’s life up pretty good. Some asshole cuts you off in traffic? Run his plates, send a red flag to the IRS, boom, he’s getting a call from the auditor. Some innocent schmuck catches you on a bad day? A little re-edit on somebody’s record and suddenly they have an outstanding warrant they never even knew about. One not need be sadistic, amorality was good enough.

But there was a flip side to living a life of being privy to so much power. For starters, the only people with knowledge of your existence are the highest factions of the government. This was handy for bailing you out of the can when you drunkenly whipped up on a gang of thugs that one time, but when it came to work related issues they had no problem just throwing bodies at a growing Commie dictatorship or assassination plot. No records means no accountability. Not like when they send in Marines and have to explain every little detail to the media, fabricate propaganda to placate the masses and chill out their allies. Agents were sent in when the government wanted to bypass all the bullshit and wipe somebody out nice and quiet. This was the blackest of black ops.

Getting caught was the worst thing that could happen to an agent. In this business, death was preferable to capture. The government would deny everything to cover up, which meant an agent was basically at the mercy of his captors. Every agent had at one point or another been exposed to the interrogation sites being run on a global scale, and had born witness, if not actually participated, in what went on at these sites. In case you’re trying to guess, it was sure as hell not mercy. It was the most horrific forms of physical and psychological torture imaginable.

Agent Jane Bond knew all of this going into the job and yet here she was, tied to a wall and stretched out like fucking da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, trying to piece together what was going on. She kept slipping in and out of consciousness, unable to decipher exactly what kind of drugs they were giving her, but just aware enough to remember some very fuzzy details. She had been in Central America somewhere. It was an ice job on some leftist or rightist something or other who was stirring the pot just a little too vigorously, a woman. What was her name? Her head sagged and bobbed and her last thought before she blacked out was “This is some heavy shit…..”

COLD! Jane awoke abruptly to the sensation of something very cold being stuck in her ass. That would wake anybody up. Confused at first about what to think about, what was happening or why, she took a moment to try and gather her wits about her. When everything came into focus, she kind of wished she could regain unconsciousness. There was indeed some icy rod of some sort being inserted into her ass. Slipping and sliding in and out of her. She was still tied to the wall, naked, and there was an absolute behemoth of a woman sucking on her left tit. She could now tell she was in a room of some kind, and she could see various tools and devices that she could tell were either for sex or torture. Or both. Looking around the room, Jane could start to make out more people. It was dimly lit, but she could make out a few other enormous Amazonian creatures and a few other women. They were in various states of undress, some were staring at her and masturbating, two of the hulks were in the corner openly fornicating, and there was one who was really out of place. A woman, fully dressed in a very fancy three piece suit, was standing, actually leaning against the one door in the place, and she was looking unblinkingly at Jane. She looked familiar, but why? Slowly but surely she was gathering her wits about her. Jane was now remembering what she did and who she was. The mission. What happened to the mission?

“Wh..What’re you doi…” FWAP! The behemoth straight cold cocked her in the jaw without even batting a lash. That’s more like it! Jane was used to that kind of action. Hell, pain was pretty much part of the job. Dishing it out and taking it. Usually with agents, it got to the point where they started liking it. You had to. Aversion to pain was not an option. She decided talking would be a bad idea, but getting rocked in the gulliver brought her fully about. The first thing to do was assess the situation. After that, you start assessing and mentally listing possible avenues of escape. Then you start sizing up any people you can get your eyes on. Figure out who’s in charge, who’s the muscle, who’s the one that is maybe not as bright as the rest. Most importantly at this point, remember that you have information people would kill for, and come to terms with the idea that they are probably going to try to torture it out of you.

The Hulk was running her tongue all over Jane’s body, and not in a sensual way. It was more like a marking of territory than anything else. Her muscles were glistening with sweat as she licked Jane’s thighs. First outside, then working her way slowly to the inside, and the more excited she got, the farther she stuck the cold whatever-it-is up Jane’s ass. Jane started making eyes at the monstrosity fondling her, trying to silently get its attention, flicking her own tongue to entice, get it in close, she began to swivel her hips with the rhythm and getting more and more erotic. The Hulk seemed to like it and started groaning and getting off on Jane’s sensuality, and also the power of having this beautiful woman unable to resist its grotesque advances. “That’s right,” thought Jane, “come closer you sexy bitch, I’ll give you what you need.”

Muscular, half exposed, and with her face buried now between Jane’s tits, eye contact was made. Jane looking sensually drew the massive woman right up to her face. She grabbed Jane by the hair and looked her directly in the eye. The masturbating Harpies started jerking themselves more furiously and everyone in the room was getting off on the scene. Jane, eyes locked on, opened her mouth, licked her lips invitingly and emitted a sense of absolute submission. Her eyes were saying “I give up. I’m yours. Do with me what you will.”

The Hulk moved in and locked lips with Jane in an ultimate display of ownership and domination. Jane kissed back invitingly, sensuously giving herself over, softly against the hardened force of her aggressor. Her only defense was to give in completely.

Then there was blood. It trickled out between the mouths of the lip locked lovers and The Hulk began to grunt, then moan, and then screaming, pulled back and fell to the ground as the blood between the two came out in a gushing orgasmic flow. The blood ran down Jane’s chin and body as she spit out The Hulk’s tongue directly at the woman in the suit, who had been coolly watching the entire scenario. The two titanic women in the corner stopped fornicating and the Harpies stopped masturbating and the entire room came to a complete halt. The only sound being heard was the painful moans of The Hulk as it scrambled on the floor to try to find its missing muscle.

Jane looked defiantly at The Suit, panting heavily, the taste of the blood bringing out the animal in her, the survival instinct. It was the only way to make a statement, and that statement was that she would not be going down without a fight. She had no idea where she was, how she got there, who any of these people were, or what was going to happen to her, but if you’re going to take out Special Agent Jane Bond, you better take her all the way out, and if you were going to make it painful, bring it on. This was not her first rodeo, nor was it the worst she had ever seen, this was merely what Jane fuckin’ Bond calls Monday morning….

The two brutes in the corner helped The Hulk off the floor and out of the room. She was making noises that were part mad rage and part childish whimpering. The Harpies were still, not sure what to do about the bloody devil woman tied to the wall. The Suit paced back and forth. She was suave, very good looking with short, black slicked hair. She looked like she could have just crawled out of a Bogart movie. A Hispanic looking woman with dark, deep saucy eyes that looked as if they knew something you didn’t. Her shoes clicked on the floor as she walked back and forth with her hands behind her back, saying nothing but eyeing Jane cautiously. Then she spoke.

“Who sent you?”

“Fuck you, that’s who. Where the hell am I?”

The Suit produced a riding crop from behind her back and snapped it hard against Jane’s bare buttock. “I ask the questions, you give the answers. Who are you working for?”

Jane was at a disadvantage in this game of psychological chess. She was not at a total loss, however the clock was working against her. There was no way she could be broken with a riding crop, but she also figured it was only a matter of time before The Hulk came back wanting a piece of her, and that was an appointment she decided she would rather miss. “I was on vacation…” FWAK! Across the other buttock came the riding crop and she now had two very nice red welts.

“I won’t be lied to,” said The Suit, “You’re obviously American. You were photographed meeting with members of those who are opposed to the Party,” she pulled a stack of photos from inside her blazer, “you were also seen cavorting with the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister is now dead. We are well aware of your CIA meddling in the affairs of other countries and we will not be trifled with. You will not like what happens to you if you do not talk. If you tell me what you know, I will see to it that you are released.”

“And if I don’t?”

“If you don’t then I’ll give you to them,” She pointed at the Harpies. They seemed harmless enough, just like a gang of junkies who probably hung out in this fuck den and traded their pussies for tetra or something. They didn’t really look like anything to be worried about, “Aren’t they beautiful? The deadliest things always are.”

The Suit clapped her hands and the door opened. In walked a brute with a young man of maybe 20 or 21, a thin wisp of a guy with a dirty kind of street smart look about him. His hands were bound in front of him and he was tied to the wall adjacent to Jane. His feet secured, his hands now over his head, the Harpies began to stir and blush. They rose and began to slowly, cautiously approach the man. The Suit was all that came between them.

“This poor bastard here pretends he doesn’t speak, he has trouble deciding he wants to talk, so I will make an example of him…for you.” She walked over to the man and smiled in a friendly way, rubbing the riding crop gently along his face, at which he smiled back. The Harpies began frothing at the mouth and masturbating. “Take him,” said the Suit, and then walked out the door.

The Harpies were worked up into a sexual frenzy. There were six of them, and they were now kissing each other feverishly and rubbing their pussies on each other. They worked their way over to the man and began tearing his clothes away. He was taking great pleasure in watching them work on each other and laughed out loud when they started working on him. They were kissing him, rubbing their breasts on his chest, sucking his cock, rubbing each other and the man groaned with pleasure. He looked at Jane and wished she could come over and join in the fun. The Harpies were rubbing, groaning, moaning, kissing the man and each other and when his clothes were all torn away they began to tear at his flesh. It seemed like sexual fun and games but the Harpies kept tearing away at him until he began to bleed. When they smelled the blood they went into absolute mayhem, like vampires they kept tearing away at him and it got so crazy they tore at each other trying to get more and more. The more they tore the more turned on they got and they started climaxing themselves and each other.

Jane turned away. She couldn’t watch anymore, but she couldn’t muffle the sounds of the man’s cries of pain, or the Harpies screams of pleasure and chaos….

The mission was fairly simple. They usually were if you didn’t worry too much about the details. She would get file packets and folders and thumb drives with profiles and bios and histories and such. In the beginning she would pore over every little detail of everything involved in order to be the best, most efficient agent there was. You didn’t climb your way up the ladder as far or as fast as she had without a keen eye for detail. After a while, however, the operations all started looking very much alike and it got to a point where she was so efficient at what she does, the only question she really needed to ask was ‘Who is the target?’ Everything else was pretty much gravy.

She studied her history too, and had access to many classified documents. She knew The Agency was dicking around with the governments in other countries in order to solidify their own hold on global dominance. When some unfriendly came to power through what was probably dubious means at best, it was pretty routine to send in an agent to train the opposition army, manipulate their media centers, sow discontent among the ruling party, incite a coup, or just ace the one person you didn’t like. Operations like this have been pretty standard fare, basically since the day they dropped the bomb in ’45.

In the days before the Information Age, it was a lot easier to conduct operations in the shadows without anyone finding out. Nowadays you had the internet and Congressional Accountability and House Oversight Committees and all kinds of red tape to wade through that bogged everything down and got nothing done at the highest levels of American government. That’s when they created The Agency. It was a small handful of the best and deadliest spies and assassins that answered to The Boss and nobody else. There were maybe four or five people in the world that knew about The Agency.

Basically, when you wanted something done that would make you look great in the papers, you called CIA, FBI, Seals, Marines, Special-Ops, you answered to the House and the Senate and jumped through all their little hoops to show the world that the system really does work. When you wanted to change the world and make it seem like a naturally occurring event, you called The Agency. They were ghosts, shadows, dreams, they technically did not exist and were some of the most powerful people on the planet. Their purpose was to bypass the bureaucratic bullshit and just do what The Boss says.

So when the Party rose to power in Columbiana through brute force, intimidation and random killing, Jane knew she would be going in to handle some business. This wasn’t your ordinary everyday political takeover, this was brutal dictatorship type of shit.

The mission was to cut the head off of the serpent. The head was a woman named Maria DeMerde. Jane was to infiltrate by any means possible, gain access to the Prime Minister and clip her cold. What happened afterwards was irrelevant. If Jane got out alive, great. If not, thanks for your service. The Boss didn’t care about means, just results.

DeMerde had an all-female guard corps, and while legally married it was discovered by the agency that she was a raging lesbian, and threw elaborate, discreet all girl orgies with anyone she pleased. She would choose whoever caught her eye and have them taken back to her fuck lair, where she would have her way with them in whatever way she saw fit. You can do that when you’re an undisputed dictator.

Papers were forged that allowed Jane access to one of the Prime Minister’s galas that she threw on a regular basis, partly to put on an overwhelming display of her power, and partly to shop for fresh meat to be made available for her next fuckfest. This was her in. After that, it was up to her.

She caught DeMerde’s eye at the gala. She had a different look from the other girls in Columbiana. Not enough to be a sore thumb, but just enough to attract the right attention. Dolled up in a short, low-cut cocktail dress, swinging her hips to the left and right and sipping on her champagne glass like it was a fresh wet cunt, Jane was doing just the right amount of drawing attention without raising suspicion.

A voluptuous M-16 strapped guard grabbed her by the arm and led Jane away from the party into a hallway occupied by a full group of other voluptuous guards. After a few tense minutes, the Prime Minister herself emerged and sized her up.

DeMerde asked a few questions, Jane told a few lies and decided she needed to make an immediate and indelible impression, so before her bullshit answers could be detected as bullshit, she hiked up her skirt and started stroking her pussy, which she had shaved and waxed for the occasion. She turned to the guard next to her, grabbed the business end of her rifle and showed off her impressive deep throat skills, and also her bare ass which alone was worth the price of admission. DeMerde nodded to the guard and exited, after which Jane was taken to a room with about 20 other girls sitting in anxiety or expectation or flat out fear of what was going to happen next.

Hours of uncomfortable silence passed until finally DeMerde came into the room with two armed guards and demanded that all the girls undress. She would pick girls at random and feel them up, grab their ass, taste them, finger their pussy, whatever she wanted. She broke them off into groups of three or four and ordered each group to engage in a different deviant sexual act. Most of the girls were hesitant, unsure or inexperienced, as Columbiana was a rather conservative God-fearing country where such acts were certifiably damnable. But DeMerde was not to be denied and before too long the entire room was engaged in absolute sexual deviancy.

Upon this accomplishment, the Prime Minister disrobed and went from group to group, imposing herself on the unspeakable acts being committed within each group and reveling in the debauchery of it all, at times stepping back and jerking herself off to the satisfaction that such power must yield, even at the expense of others. There was no reason to care, the entire group would be used up and discarded before morning, after which a new group of sluts would be found at the next gala. Aaaah, the perks of being a dictator!

Jane was making an impression, however. She did feel temporarily bad for the face on which she was being forced to grind up on, but decided that the greater good must prevail, and hopefully she could see her way fit to saving these captives if she could find a way to put the Queen Bitch away once and for all.

Her efforts paid off, and DeMerde came around to Jane’s group of copulating whores. The Prime Minister knew there was something she liked about Jane, but couldn’t tell exactly what until she was seen in action with a posse of three other girls, and then she knew. The sight of Jane with her shaved mound buried in one girl’s mouth while fingering another into a frenzy and simultaneously romantically making out with a third wench was all that needed saying. She knew that she had to have Jane at that moment.

DeMerde motioned to her guard to escort Jane into what was apparently her private room. Of course, the girls in the front room were instructed to keep fucking, but it now became known to Jane that DeMerde selected one woman and one guard to do as she pleased, for the rest of the night….

“What’s your name?” asked DeMerde, seeming almost human in her curiosity, “What are you called?”

“What you care?” said Jane, in fake broken English, “What you want?”

The Prime Minister grabbed Jane’s face and shoved it shamelessly into her crotch, whetting her whistle at the fountain of youth, defying the world to tell her different, confident in her ability to get whatever the fuck she wanted, and appreciating the enthusiasm of this new girl whose skills seemed beyond comparison.

Jane knew her way around a cunt. She realized she had never really taken the time to declare herself of a particular sexuality. She found sex to be pleasurable at times, but mostly it was another one of those things that was a part of the job. She didn’t use it for any sort of physical satisfaction, it was a weapon. She had learned the art of seduction so she could be a better spy. She had learned how to please men and women so she could be a more efficient employee for The Agency. It was a device used to get somebody in a vulnerable position, make them more susceptible to questioning or killing, or whatever. Over the years she found men especially to be pretty easy to handle. She didn’t even have to be a good lay most of the time, just had to make herself accessible and look really good, which she did. Women, however, were much more challenging. They needed to be pleased and touched in certain ways and each one was vastly different. Some were turned on by words, some by deeds, some liked toys and some didn’t, some were more militant in their lesbianism than others, some were more dominant and let you know right up front exactly what they wanted while others wanted to be chased and wooed. Those were the toughest ones, the ones that liked to play games. It was harder to tell if you were saying or doing the right thing, sometimes until it was too late. They liked to play the prey, liked that feeling of being pursued or hunted. Deep down they were eager to submit to another, but they wanted the feeling that their submission had been earned somehow. In other words, it was another type of power game that in Jane’s line of work had become all too common. Once properly seduced they were putty in her hands, but like a hunted deer they could be gone in a flash at the snap of a twig. It was all in the pursuit, and the pursuit itself seemed to be a form of sexual provocation. Who the hell knew why?

The Prime Minister was a dominant, militant type. Jane was a little surprised at this. Not overly shocked, but a little bit surprised. It had been her experience more often than not that the ones who were the most dominant personalities in public were usually the ones who, behind closed doors, liked to call you Mommy and wanted you to hang them from the rafters and spank them until they bled. Many people were contrasted like that, but not Maria DeMerde. She had Jane on her knees, straddling her face and instructing her in the various ways her pussy should be eaten out. “Well, she knows what she likes,” thought Jane as she tried to force herself to salivate. DeMerde grabbed Jane by the hair and thrust herself harder onto Jane’s mouth. Jane put her tongue all the way inside and started working it back and forth, in and out, tongue fucking the world’s most brutal dictator, who was now rubbing her own clitoris at the sight of Jane sliding her wet mouth all over her.

Then it happened. DeMerde’s muscles loosened and quivered as she neared orgasm. Ever so slightly, a softer look was now on her face and she looked now very womanly. The harsh looks, the incessant frown, the stern glare were gone and she was suddenly very feminine. The muscles in her cunt pulsed and retracted as she came in Jane’s mouth. Her grunting became a sensual heavy breathing and with that, Jane decided she was now in charge and it was time to cut out the horseshit and get to work.

She led Maria to the bed where the two laid down together. It was a most luxurious bed and the silk sheets were slippery against their skin. DeMerde laid on her back while Jane ran her fingers lightly up and down the length of her body, licking her nipples and then blowing on them made them shoot right into the air. Jane then rolled over and laid on top of her, and the two began rubbing and squeezing their breasts together, teasing with the nipples until they were hard. Jane rose, straddled DeMerde between her thighs and was then rubbing her own pussy, making herself wet. She had amazing control over her own juices and could produce them seemingly at will. She worked her knees over DeMerde’s shoulders and was straddling her head, hovering over her, showing her everything the good Lord gave her. DeMerde seemed pleased. It was hard to tell for she still seemed like the kind of person whose face would break in half if she cracked a smile, but Jane figured she would be on her way to the gulag by now if the Prime Minister were not pleased.

The juice from her pussy was dripping onto DeMerde’s lips, and as Jane rubbed and fingered herself she reached behind her and began doing the same to the Prime Minister. In unison, first one finger, then two, then three, then back out to rub the clit some more, then back inside, first to herself, and then to DeMerde, showing her what she was going to do, and then doing it. DeMerde spread her legs open a little wider to allow Jane’s fingers easier and deeper access. Jane lowered herself onto DeMerde’s face. By gyrating her hips she could make out every contour of her skull, and she surrounded DeMerde’s nose and face with her pussy, grinding down, she put more pressure on the Prime Minister’s pelvic region as well, not so much pleasing her now as holding her entire body down. DeMerde’s eyes opened wide and she began to struggle as she realized she couldn’t breathe. Jane looked back and bore down harder, forcing her mouth open so she couldn’t bite down, cutting off all the air with her pussy. Soon there were convulsions and then she started to turn blue. This went on for quite a few minutes as the bitch was pretty strong, and it took most of Jane’s energy to hold her down and muffle her cries, but then the struggling stopped, the body went limp, and the eyes glazed over. The Great Dictator was dead.

Jane was panting heavily after quite a workout, but had no time to relax if she wanted to get out of there in one piece. First thing was to dispatch the guard that was witness to the whole occurrence and apparently thought nothing of it. Jane began laughing and bent down to DeMerde’s face, pretending the two were talking. Then she turned to the guard.

“The Prime Minister asks if you could bring a glass of water,” she said.

The guard dutifully went into the bathroom and came out carrying a glass in one hand, the other holding the strap to the rifle that was slung over her shoulder.

“Here, let me help you,” said Jane as she got up and walked over to the guard. She casually noticed the guard had a knife in a holster around her waist. She smiled coyly and reached out as if to grab the glass, instead her hand went past the glass and drew the rather sizable blade from the holster. The butt of her free hand threw a stunning uppercut under the guards chin, exposing the throat, and she thrust the knife squarely into the soft part of the jaw, through the mouth and into the sinus cavity. Jane gave it a few whacks until it was in up to the hilt. The guard never had a chance. Jane dragged the body into the bathroom and carefully laid it into the bath tub.

She had to think fast. It was only a matter of time until someone walked in and figured out what was going on. She quickly fixed her face and tied her hair up, then went into the closet. Holy shit! The closet was full of outfits. All kinds, sorts, styles, colors, anything you could imagine. Too bad she was in a hurry. A girl could have a field day up in here. She picked out a very professional looking pant suit and dressed. The red one was nice, but she decided black was necessary. She dressed quickly and quietly and went over to the outdoor balcony. She got lucky in that there was a tree she could stealthily climb down, and it was dark. Getting to the ground she was well hidden behind the tree so she gathered her thoughts for a second. The second passed and someone was in the bedroom blowing a whistle. Lights went on and alarms went off. Jane could now see she was in a walled compound and it was about a hundred yards to the wall. Considering the circumstances, this was no time for any kind of fancy planning. The plan was, get over that fucking wall.

She made a mad sprint for it. She heard a voice yell “Alto! Alto!” followed by more whistles blowing and finally gunfire. Chunks of the wall flew away as she scaled deftly over it. It was about ten feet high but Jane practically hurdled it, now freed into the jungles of Columbiana, if you can call that freedom. This was some of the densest and most dangerous jungle in the world. If the predators didn’t get you, the poisonous plants and bugs would, or the disease. Many people were known to have gone into the foliage, never to be heard from again. Jane of course knew all of this but had no choice.

She could barely make out where she was going by the light of the moon. There was no way she could have seen the giant hole she fell in. She hit the bottom hard and looked up. The hole was deep and had been covered with palm leaves. She recognized it as a trap the locals use to capture big cats, or maybe infiltrators, or escapees, or anybody else that happened to be wandering around out there. Either way, this hole was too deep to climb out of, and Jane heard the voices drawing nearer, saw flashlights waving around and finally she saw some human shaped patterns hovering around the hole. Lights shone in her eyes and she could hear the voices of men with really big guns. A female voice could be heard from afar that made the men stop pointing their guns at Jane.

“Vivo! Vivo! Quero su vivo!” The voice drew nearer and the men stood more at attention. They took their lights and pointed them away from Jane, and in the direction of the voice. The voice appeared at the edge of the hole and for a brief second she could make out a face. It was The Suit. She had a cigarette in one hand and a piece of bamboo in the other. There was some conversation in Spanish for a few minutes, and then The Suit put the bamboo to her lips. The lights shone back down on Jane, blinding her.

Well, she thought, what better time to come to terms with your own mortality. It’s been a pretty good ride and come what may. While not really religious, you’re not really an atheist either. It was another one of those things you never really made a decision on, like most other things in your life. You believed in yourself, your work, The Agency, and that was about it. Sooo Sayonara, I guess.

There was a stinging on her neck, and she reached up and pulled out a small dart, but not before its poison had injected itself into her. Jane started to feel dizzy, more and more whatever she could see in the world was spinning and she fell back on the ground. Then slowly, painlessly, everything went dark……

The Harpies were back in the corner, somber and lying all over each other like a pride of lionesses. They didn’t do much at all except eat, sleep, fight and fuck. That’s what that stuff did to you. It was called tetra. It was a new form of drug that was basically the worst elements of all the street drugs rolled into one. It stripped the addict of any shred of humanity. They became animals with no memory of their past or recollection of anything, eventually degrading to a point where all speech was completely forgotten. They had a zombie-like demeanor about them and could be controlled and enslaved which rendered its use and utility open to any number of horrific possibilities.

There was a great effort made by world governments to even keep the stuff from getting out. At first they tried to find some sort of military or psychological uses for it as it initially seemed it may serve some sort of purpose, but the end effects only turned all of the test subjects into drooling slabs of meat. When the experiments were outlawed, some of the scientists started testing it on themselves and they got hooked like junkies. They pulled people in off the street and tested them in secret and before you knew it the black market demand went through the roof. The word was out and the exact situation they were trying to avoid came to fruition quite quickly. Stories started popping up in the news about roving bands of lunatics who would randomly attack innocent people and tear them to shreds with their hands and teeth. The dealers took advantage of the mind control properties of the tetra to create gangs of Harpies to do their dirty work for them. Zombie apocalypse conspiracy theorists had a field day, and the world was faced with a growing epidemic.

If there was any good news, it was that the stuff was very hard to manufacture, you couldn’t just cook it up like crack, and the effects happened gradually and not all at once, so if one had not regressed far enough they could still be saved. Once they had degraded into the animalistic stage however, the person they once were was gone forever.

The situation for Jane had now become very clear and it was not looking good. The remains of the guy the Harpies tore apart was left hanging where he was. Two huge, muscular security women laid down at her feet and started fucking right there in front of the whole room, whipping the Harpies into another sexual frenzy and they all started licking and masturbating each other again. One in the far corner was staring at her, almost curiously, almost humanely. Then she screamed like a banshee and thrust her pussy onto the mouth of the closest girl to her, clawing at her breasts and wailing.

She knew what would happen. She would be tortured mercilessly. First for information, and then just because. The Suit would take great pleasure herself, and almost certainly that tongueless Hulk bitch would be looking for a little payback. She would be made an example of. They would never kill her. That would be too easy. They would lock her up and make her life hell, and when they tired of that they would turn her into one of those fucking Harpies where she would live out the rest of her life as a junkie sex fiend omega dog. The Boss had already denied any knowledge of the operation she was sure, The Agency was probably burning her file right now and there would be no record of her ever having existed. No help was coming, no rescue teams, no political deals or trades. Jane Bond was alone.

The guards would come in and get each other off to the sights and sounds of the Harpies. They would slap Jane around a little bit and then go down on each other right in front of her. It was fairly well known that the Party of Columbiana was as sexually deviant as it was tyrannical and their means of torment knew no boundaries. The Suit came in as the guards were scissor locked together, rubbing their pussies against each other and getting off, and as the frenzy reached a fever pitch, she began whipping them with her riding crop. Then Jane started getting lashes on her breasts and buttocks and the guards screamed ecstatically. The Harpies were all over each other in a roiling mass of naked sexual pleasure. Jane kept making eye contact with one, the black girl, there seemed to be something there, a glimmer of humanity every few minutes that made Jane think maybe, just maybe there could be a person in there who was not yet lost.

The lashes from the riding crop were drawing trickles of blood, and the sight of the blood drove the Harpies absolutely crazy with lust for each other. One guard was now on her knees, head down eating the other guard inside out, taking swats on the ass from The Suit’s riding crop and begging for more, fingering herself and then reaching up from her knees and fingering Jane. The Suit seemed only interested in the pain and not in anything particularly sexual, except maybe the dirty talk. Like a dominatrix, she ordered the guards into various positions and had to put the Harpies in line when they seemed a little too close to losing control, and the of course teasing Jane with the notion that this was only the beginning, and the idea that the means of her torment will only get worse. The Suit went about her business with absolute precision, knowing exactly what she was doing and reveling in the displays of her dominance. She did have lust but it was not a sexual lust. It was a lust for power. This seemed to be what got The Suit off the most.

The episode went on for hours until The Suit became too tired or bored to continue. Jane was a wreck and could barely hold on. The guards were dismissed and the Harpies lay in the corner grooming each other, the black girl looking up from time to time to stare at Jane with ravenous curiosity.

The Suit then reached into a bag and pulled out a syringe. The tetra actually felt kind of good going into her as The Suit shot Jane up. It was euphoric and also acted as a sedative. Jane knew she had to stay strong mentally as she was already becoming addicted and that their goal was to keep her hooked and alive, eventually turning her into one of the Harpies, but she allowed herself to take some solace in the relief from the pain.

“Your attempt at revolution has already failed,” said The Suit, “Your ill trained army was put down almost instantly, and we have already installed the successor to Prime Minister DeMerde. In all your spying and infiltrating there is one thing you have failed to recognize, and that is that the dictator is merely a figurehead. It is a puppet, a symbol for the people to worship and heap their praise, yet is controlled by forces that are unseen. The strings of power are being pulled by others. As a result, we can install whoever we please into the Prime Ministry and be none the worse for wear. In other words, I run this fucking country, and whoever it is that you work for will have to send in spies who are more capable at doing their jobs, or not getting caught, if they ever wish to take me down. I just wanted you to know how you have been used by your country, and what a complete failure your mission was before you lose your mind completely and become one of them,” she nodded at the Harpies, packed her case and left.

Jane was trying to force herself to keep her eyes open, fighting the powerful drug every step of the way. They could abuse her body all they wanted but they would not take her mind dammit. She thought about anything she could, the mission, The Agency, home, how she missed home. Maybe a nice desk job would be good for a while. She could push papers, write reports, flirt with interns, go home at night and take a hot bath or a cold shower. Some people pulled a nice pension and never had to put their necks on the line like she did. Then again, those people are all assholes, she thought. They spend the majority of their careers brown nosing the higher ups and having to fellate their way to any title of importance, like that prick Agent Johnson. Then the bureaucratic dickwads have no idea how to do their job and end up getting Agents like her killed. The fact that Intelligence couldn’t figure out that The Suit was really the one behind all the tyranny just further confirmed that those collegiate desk jockeys like that prick Agent Johnson all had their heads up their own asses, if not somebody else’s. No, getting home and living a life like that just wasn’t for Jane, but thinking about it gave her a new mission, and that was to get home and beat the bloody hell out of those incompetent fuckasses.

The black Harpy was staring at her again. Jane returned the stare. There was something about having tetra in your blood that bonded people together almost in a psychic kind of way. That’s how they ended up running in packs like dogs, something in the blood, something that connec…..thoughts started to break up if she drifted or began to lose concentration. She had to focus now more than ever. Remember the mission. The new mission. She nodded at the Harpy and the Harpy nodded back. That was something. She repeated with the same result. She started motioning with her head to come over, trying to draw her in. The Harpy now couldn’t decide whether she wanted to go over there and see what was going on or to just continue masturbating. Finally, curiosity got the best of her, and she stood up and wandered cautiously over to Jane. She would get a little closer, sniff and stare, and then back away snarling and huffing, only to return to Jane a few seconds later.

“Come here,” Jane whispered words of encouragement, trying to get closer, “That’s it, come on. I won’t hurt you.” The words seemed to calm and confuse the Harpy. She sensed the connection from the tetra, but this creature talked, like the others, and something in her brain was happening that the animal couldn’t make out because it was too human to comprehend.

Jane smiled at her and the Harpy backed off. Nodding her back over, she offered the sweet thing her pussy, spreading as wide as she could and pushing her hips out, enticing and encouraging the girl to take a taste. The girl took a delicate taste and Jane emulated the other Harpies and the noises they were making. This signaled the girl to take a deeper taste and she threw ravenously her entire mouth onto Jane’s pussy, drinking from it like it was the fountain of youth. In an instant, Jane understood the reason why the Harpies were constantly engaged in an ongoing orgy. The drug apparently affected most the sexual centers of the mind, turning any human contact into the most heightened erotic sensations. And like the drug, the feeling became insatiable and the craving for more and more is what drove people to insanity. The girl ground her mouth down on her pelvic bone and Jane came hard, imploring the girl to keep going. Suddenly there were no thoughts, there was no mission, there was nothing except the gyrating pulses, the feeling, the next climax that she must get to, the girl, the other girls were watching and they started to come over one by one until all of the girls were now pleasuring Jane, kissing her, licking her everywhere, rubbing their tits on hers, taking turns sometimes by twos licking and sucking her cunt and wanting to fuck it so badly, and Jane wanted to get fucked right then and there, and she would stay there with them forever and always. They began clawing at the ropes around her ankles so they could get her legs up and Jane didn’t care. They clamored to be the next one to touch her, to kiss her, to fondle her, to put their breasts in her mouth and have her lick them, lick their nipples hard and erect. Jane started coming and the others joined her, it was like a chain reaction and the whole pack of girls came together and moaned and screamed and writhed all over each other. The ecstasy of being, of belonging, of having everything you ever wanted right there.

“Yes! Oh God, Yes!” screamed Jane and the Harpies were amazed because she was one of them and yet she could talk. They all wanted to worship at her altar, treat her like a goddess, obey her every word, “Lick it,” she said, and they would, “Suck it,” she said, and they would, her muscles tightened and contracted as she had orgasm after flowing orgasm, never wanting this to end, never stopping, this could go on for eternity, one woman interlocked with another and they were all one, and when Jane came they all came, “Oh God,” she thought, “Don’t ever let this end……”

The lock to the door turned abruptly, and the creaking of the door opening echoed throughout the room. Something awoke inside of Jane for a split second, awareness maybe, just enough to for a moment forget the frenzy that was going on long enough to look up and see The Hulk standing in the doorway……

She was big, bad, buff, blond, and one pissed off bitch. Her shoulders hunched up and down and you could practically see steam coming out of her ears.

“Murph nurph de nargle fargle!” she said, with her freshly reattached and bandaged tongue. Jane was having a bit of trouble being cognizant. She could see the hulking mass in the doorway, but her mind was stuck in the middle ground between the effects of the drug and the orgasmic tingling of what may have just been the most insane lesbian orgy ever, and registering that this thing staring at her was coming to exact her revenge for the whole tongue biting incident. She drifted in and out as she tried to put things together. All she could think of was revenge, confusion and fucking.

The Harpies were at Jane’s feet, still trying to make love to her. They didn’t even notice as The Hulk tore into the room and started throwing them aside, tearing through them to get to Jane. They knew their place, and didn’t try to resist, running to huddle in the farthest corner. The Hulk finally reached Jane and clocked her square in the jaw.

“Oh, yeah!” thought Jane, suddenly reality came flooding back and she remembered everything, though she had to do it in between blows as her senses returned in time to find someone trying to beat her senseless. Tied to the wall, defenseless against the constant fists being hurled at her, there was nothing she could do. The Hulk would take all of her rage out on her, and there was nothing she could do.

It was then that she realized that during the prior depravities, the Harpies had untied her legs to get deeper inside her pussy, and while her hands were still tied to the wall, this small detail was really all she needed. Jane took her now free knee and thrust it firmly up into The Hulk’s groin, stunning it for just long enough to hurl her body fully upwards. She had been trained to fight with whatever was available, and to kill or be killed. When faced with a case of You or Them, Jane Bond decided it was always going to be Them. She only had two limbs available to fight with, but within a matter of seconds her legs had worked their way up The Hulk’s body until she had one wrapped around her windpipe and locked into the other right behind the knee. All the big muscles and weight training and intimidation tactics and steroids and brute force this thing had were suddenly irrelevant without a source of air. The Hulk stopped punching at Jane and was now trying to get out of the leg lock that was cutting off her windpipe. The two engaged in a struggle for survival and The Hulk dropped to her knees, gasping and struggling. Jane squeezed her legs with all her might. Kill or be killed. Her other animal instinct, survival, was now in full effect as she drained the life out of The Hulk, who went down to the ground, went limp, and was finally dead.

Jane was now aware enough to take control. Her hands were still tied to the wall, and it was not the optimal situation, but it never was the optimal situation. There was a light now though, where there had not been one before, and that was enough. More guards would be coming in at any moment, so she knew she had to act fast. The Harpies were confused by their obedience to the guards and their love for Jane. They began tearing back and forth, not knowing what to do and they started screaming bloody murder. All except the black one, who cautiously got close to Jane and tried to start fucking her again.

“No!” screamed Jane, and the whole pack went silent and turned their eyes on her in startled surprise. She motioned her eyes up to the ropes around her wrists, and wriggled her hands around. The black Harpy untied the ropes and freed Jane finally from her bonds. Her hands were quite numb, and as the feeling came back into them she softly caressed the cheek of the shell of a girl, sensing just enough of a sympathy in her that maybe she could be saved.

“Home,” she said, and the Harpy for a moment seemed to become almost human, almost seemed to have a rational thought in her head, something in her eyes seemed to recognize and put a thought to the word ‘home’ that just maybe…..

The Harpies now gathered around Jane in subservience, seeing her now as the leader of the pack, and she mulled in her mind what the next move should be, and they went back to their usual routine of fucking and masturbating as The Suit entered the room.

The Suit started whipping them and displaying her power, making her way towards Jane with the intent of ending this once and for all. Jane remained cool and simply pointed at The Suit and spoke one word.

“Kill.” And with that the Harpies set upon The Suit, tearing and thrashing like wild animals, creating absolute chaos, screaming and wailing as they tore away at her, and in the midst of the chaos Jane saw fit to make her way out of there, but not before grabbing the black Harpy and together they were able to escape as the rest of the pack tore The Suit to shreds. Their minds were gone and they were not able to live the rest of their lives as anything other than wild animals, but there was a shred of humanity in the black one that made Jane think that she could be saved.

Jane grabbed the howling black Harpy and dragged her away from the roiling mass, isolating her from the others and looking her in the eye she tried to appeal to her humanity, to turn this animal back into a human.

“Home,” she said, shaking her shoulders and trying to knock her senses back into her, the poor thing was so enamored with Jane, yet so confused by being separated from the pack, she began to shake.

Jane, conflicted between the need to get the hell out of there and the desire to save just this one girl just slapped the shit out of her until something resembling human showed. Suddenly, there was clarity in her eyes that was not there before as the word made sense to her and she finally understood. Jane knew now that everything would be alright as the girl miraculously spoke.

“Home.”

“The Boss is pissed,” said Callahan, Head of The Agency. Jane Bond was back in Washington waiting anxiously in Callahan’s office. Callahan had been meeting with The Boss all morning going over the details of the Columbiana operation. The Boss could be a real dick when he wanted to be (which was pretty much always), and anticipation of having meetings with the most powerful man in the world had been causing some government officials to have heart attacks and nervous breakdowns. Going into a meeting with The Boss knowing you had to tell him something that did not meet his opinion was grueling at best. And God forbid you had an argument that could be backed up with paltry things like facts and science. Basically, when it came to dealing with The Boss, you either told him what he wanted to hear or you cleaned out your desk.

“Well yeah,” said Jane, “he’s always pissed.”

“Mmm hmm, but he’s got a real bug in his ass about how fucked up this whole mission got and I just got a bleeding earful about your incompetence. Now, don’t get me wrong Jane, I stand by my people and we at least have a little bit of leeway in dealing with this…..” He looked around to make sure nobody was around, “…with this prick but I had one small thing working against me throughout the entire meeting. I had to talk sense to him.”

“I don’t understand,” Jane said, now perplexed, “the mission was to take out the dictator of Columbiana and I did. I took out the target you gave me, and when I found out The Suit was the real dictator I took her out too. I single-handedly ended tyranny and oppression in Columbiana. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that your assignment was to delete Maria DeMerde, not to end tyranny and oppression. The woman in the suit was named Dr. Katerina Hellno. She’s been running the dictatorship of Columbiana, propping up hand-picked figureheads and making all the real decisions from the shadows.”

“You mean you knew about this and you didn’t tell me about it?”

“This was all in the files you were given.”

“No it wasn’t. There was nothing about The Suit in any of the files.”

“It was distinctly stated that under no circumstances were you to deactivate Dr. Hellno. The idea of the mission was to liquidate the figurehead, but leave the dictatorship intact. That would then incite the civil war led by our trained counterrevolutionaries.”

“Who would then take control of the country and install a free democracy, right?”

“Oh, hell no,” continued Callahan, “they were going to get slaughtered no matter what they did. The idea was that the natives would revolt, The Suit would crush the revolution and install another figurehead, then we could continue to point at them and say ‘Look what terrible people they are! They’re the enemy!’ Then while everybody is paying attention to that we have the perfect opportunity to invade Palookistan.”

“Palookistan is on the other side of the world. What the flying fuck does Palookistan have to do with any goddam thing!?!”

“Exactly. See, the invasion of Palookistan has been on The Boss’ docket since before he even got elected, that’s why we started the whole situation in Columbiana. It’s a classic bait and switch. We get everybody riled up about Columbiana but we still get to keep our bad guy. Then while everyone has turned a blind eye, we’re across the globe doing whatever the hell we want. By the time they figure out what’s going on it is too late.”

“But why are we invading Palookistan?”

“Who knows? That’s The Boss’ problem. Resources. Money. More power. More control. More influence. Greed. Revenge.”

“Is that what you’re going to tell the world?”

“Pff, we just tell them it’s full of terrorists and everybody gets out of the way. You know we give ‘em the ol’ freedom and democracy blah blah blah and they eat that shit up. But by dispatching Dr. Hellno you’ve sown enough discord within the top ranks of the Party that the rebels will win the war and create a free country for themselves. You’ve eliminated the diversion for our illegitimate invasion, killed our top enemy, and practically handed Columbianans the right of self-determination.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“See, having peaceful nations is a bad thing, because if we can’t identify the bad guy that means we are the bad guy and that can’t happen. I appreciate your idealism Jane, but the masses need someone to fear, they need someone to hate, they need someone to fight against and that someone has to be out there in the world somewhere, because if it’s not they’ll start scrutinizing the things their leaders are doing right here at home, and if that happens well, we’re all fucked. I mean a world full of peaceful nations looks great on paper, but it’s just not practical. We turn so much profit by cranking up the war machine and freaking everybody out that all this peace stuff just gets back-burnered. The funny thing is, we could have total world peace tomorrow if we all so desired but…I’m afraid it’s just really bad for business.”

“Wow.” Jane stood and walked towards the door, not sure what the hell to think about all of this. She knew that her job was to deal with the dirty, dark and ruthless people that exist all over the globe, it just had never occurred to her until now that some of them might just be the very people she worked for. She knew she loved her country, but was now seriously starting to wonder what kind of stupid assholes were running her country. For the moment, she decided to put it down, and worry about other pressing issues.

“What happened to the black girl? The Harpy?”

“She’s in the hospital, fucked up but savable. We found out who she is and she’ll be rehabilitated and sent home. She’ll be just fine.”

“Good to know. She saved my ass. By the way, who put my intel files together for this whole thing?”

“Agent Johnson.”

And without a word Jane was on her way to pay a visit to that prick Agent Johnson. Jane had never been quite sure whether Johnson had it in for her for whatever reason, or was just grossly incompetent at his job, but at this point it didn’t matter. Some things were beyond her control but this was one score she was going to settle right now.

Johnson was outside of his office, yukking it up with his disinterested secretary. He smiled widely as Jane approached, but Jane was not having any of it. She grabbed a pen from the secretary’s desk and shoved it straight up his nose and, leading him by it like a dog on a leash, hauled him right on into his office.

“Safety meeting,” she told the secretary, then closed the door.

“What do you want?” cried the traumatized, nasally impaired Johnson.

“Either you deliberately withheld info from my files to try to fuck up my assignment, or you are so fucking negligent and stupid that you have no business working at this job,” she was thrusting the pen a little farther up his nose for emphasis, and now began tugging at his belt.

“Wait…I can expl..”

“Shut it. At this point, I really don’t care, I just need you to know one thing,” Jane unzipped Johnson’s pants, thrust her hand inside and pulled out his package, laying it out on the surface of his desk. Johnson would now rue the day he bought the hundred dollar, streamlined, heavy duty, no-fail stapler as Jane grabbed it and hammered down on his manhood with the business end of it, effectively nailing the poor bastard’s scrotum to his desk. He yowled in agony, and Jane tugged on the pen so that her face was right against his.

“If you ever fuck with me again I will end you, bitch!” She pulled the pen out of his nose and walked out, leaving him with the mission of liberating his balls from a heavy slab of prime oak and whimpering like a lost pup.

As Jane Bond walked through the main lobby with her head held high she finally, for the first time since the whole mission started felt able to relax a little bit. Still filled with a lot of doubt, she thought for now the examination of her life and future would require a beach somewhere and a lot of Coronas.

She walked by Gus’ newsstand outside and scanned the headlines. They read: “DeMerde Assassinated By The Party”, “Dictator Killed By Rebels?”, “Civil War Rages In Columbiana”, “President Vows No Action In Palookistan” She smiled at Gus, who had been hawking papers there since before she was born.

“Where you off to, pretty lady?” asked Gus.

“Vacation.”

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