Agents In Harms Way Read Online Free
Author: Don Winslow
seemed; he brought his face was close to her ear.
“You too, bitch. Just shut up and settle down, and no one’ll get hurt.”
She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck; his heavy breathing evening out. The smell of him came to her nostrils, male sweat mingled with breath that stank of whiskey. He moved up so he lay completely on her outstretched body, no doubt enjoying the cheap thrill he got from lewdly rubbing his groin against her womanly ass as Mallory’s hips wiggled beneath his solid weight
“Take that one into the playpen. Then come back here. This one ain’t goin’ no place.”
She watched Kip being dragged through the large, double-sized door at the far end of the hall.
“Let me uuup, you pig. I’m a Federal Agent.” Mallory blurted out.
“Well, now whadda ya know about that! You know babe, I seen a few Feds from time to time, but I ain’t never seen one with such a sweet ass.”
With that he shifted his weight to jam a hand down between their bodies so as to copiously feel the object of his admiration.
The momentary diversion gave Mallory the opportunity she was waiting for. With a mighty heave, she twisted over and brought her right knee up sharply. But the man reacted quickly, sliding a leg up to protect himself from the attempted knee in the groin. Frustrated she lay back, breathing heavily, seething with anger. Now she could see her attacker’s face: rugged features; dark eyes deep set in a seamed and craggy face. He was bearded; thick lips curled in a vacuous grin. And he kept leering down at her as he reached for her, and without a word, clutched a fistful of hair, and yanked her up off the floor. Mallory screamed, her eyes tearing as she was unceremoniously hauled to her feet.
“Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you how to behave, bitch,” he growled, twisting his fist and pulling her by the hair, until he had her stumbling towards the double doors.
The ferret came out just in time to help, a pair of handcuffs in his hands. In a moment, Mallory wrists were cuffed in front of her, and the two of them roughly dragged the helpless, squirming woman into the room the big guy had called “the playpen”.
Chapter Three
The heavy doors closed behind her, and she found herself in a spacious cabin. Ornately furnished and well lit, it spanned the entire width of the boat. Video cameras were mounted in strategic positions to scan the room. A circular bed dominated the far end; fluted white columns running from floor to ceiling formed a semi-circle before it. Full-length mirrors adorned the walls. And in those mirrors, repeated to infinity, one could see the reflected forms of two girls who had been hung from the ceiling, suspended by their wrists from a latticework of sturdy crossbars.
Mallory was stunned to find her young partner, her hands strung up high over her head. The position forced Kip up on the tiptoes of her sneakers, her lithe body stretched so that a considerable gap had opened between the bottom of the little tank top and the shorts that rode low on her slight hips - a gap that revealed her elongated midriff and tautly stretched belly. A hard rubber ballgag had been jammed between Kip’s teeth; over the gag, the big brown eyes that met Mallory’s were wide with fear.
A few feet away hung a beautiful girl, whose white-blonde hair tumbled in a mass of pale soft curls to lightly caress her bare shoulders. Her slender body was lushly tanned, with fulsome breasts the same gorgeous tan except for ghostly curving triangles of white flesh centered on those mounds, the lasting imprint of the skimpy bikini worn on some California beach. From the waist up, all she had on was a thin choker - a strip of black velvet banding her throat, with a small tag attached. From her hips hung a pleated mini-skirt, made of some sort of satiny fabric, lace-edged, like a short half-slip. The hem rode at mid-thigh, revealing most of the splendid
“You too, bitch. Just shut up and settle down, and no one’ll get hurt.”
She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck; his heavy breathing evening out. The smell of him came to her nostrils, male sweat mingled with breath that stank of whiskey. He moved up so he lay completely on her outstretched body, no doubt enjoying the cheap thrill he got from lewdly rubbing his groin against her womanly ass as Mallory’s hips wiggled beneath his solid weight
“Take that one into the playpen. Then come back here. This one ain’t goin’ no place.”
She watched Kip being dragged through the large, double-sized door at the far end of the hall.
“Let me uuup, you pig. I’m a Federal Agent.” Mallory blurted out.
“Well, now whadda ya know about that! You know babe, I seen a few Feds from time to time, but I ain’t never seen one with such a sweet ass.”
With that he shifted his weight to jam a hand down between their bodies so as to copiously feel the object of his admiration.
The momentary diversion gave Mallory the opportunity she was waiting for. With a mighty heave, she twisted over and brought her right knee up sharply. But the man reacted quickly, sliding a leg up to protect himself from the attempted knee in the groin. Frustrated she lay back, breathing heavily, seething with anger. Now she could see her attacker’s face: rugged features; dark eyes deep set in a seamed and craggy face. He was bearded; thick lips curled in a vacuous grin. And he kept leering down at her as he reached for her, and without a word, clutched a fistful of hair, and yanked her up off the floor. Mallory screamed, her eyes tearing as she was unceremoniously hauled to her feet.
“Looks like I’m gonna have to teach you how to behave, bitch,” he growled, twisting his fist and pulling her by the hair, until he had her stumbling towards the double doors.
The ferret came out just in time to help, a pair of handcuffs in his hands. In a moment, Mallory wrists were cuffed in front of her, and the two of them roughly dragged the helpless, squirming woman into the room the big guy had called “the playpen”.
Chapter Three
The heavy doors closed behind her, and she found herself in a spacious cabin. Ornately furnished and well lit, it spanned the entire width of the boat. Video cameras were mounted in strategic positions to scan the room. A circular bed dominated the far end; fluted white columns running from floor to ceiling formed a semi-circle before it. Full-length mirrors adorned the walls. And in those mirrors, repeated to infinity, one could see the reflected forms of two girls who had been hung from the ceiling, suspended by their wrists from a latticework of sturdy crossbars.
Mallory was stunned to find her young partner, her hands strung up high over her head. The position forced Kip up on the tiptoes of her sneakers, her lithe body stretched so that a considerable gap had opened between the bottom of the little tank top and the shorts that rode low on her slight hips - a gap that revealed her elongated midriff and tautly stretched belly. A hard rubber ballgag had been jammed between Kip’s teeth; over the gag, the big brown eyes that met Mallory’s were wide with fear.
A few feet away hung a beautiful girl, whose white-blonde hair tumbled in a mass of pale soft curls to lightly caress her bare shoulders. Her slender body was lushly tanned, with fulsome breasts the same gorgeous tan except for ghostly curving triangles of white flesh centered on those mounds, the lasting imprint of the skimpy bikini worn on some California beach. From the waist up, all she had on was a thin choker - a strip of black velvet banding her throat, with a small tag attached. From her hips hung a pleated mini-skirt, made of some sort of satiny fabric, lace-edged, like a short half-slip. The hem rode at mid-thigh, revealing most of the splendid
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