Five Women. One Night. [AFF Edit Edition]

Description: A Predator visits to hunt, defeat, rape & take trophies from five of Earth's greatest warriors in a single night: Deadly Little Miho, Natalie Cook, Beatrix Kiddo, Lara Croft and Agent Horowitz Can he succeed?

Content Codes (By Section) Agent Horowitz F/F, nc, bond, toys.

There were a couple of fine old bottles of wine that, if pulled off of the rack at the same time, caused an otherwise undetectable section of wine-cellar floor to slide sideways. This revealed well-lit concrete steps going down into a sub-basement. It was a little too spy-movie-kitsch for her tastes, but Horowitz had gotten used to it. She pulled the bottles, waited for the floor to slide open and walked down the steps.



At the bottom of the steps is a corridor with very solid doors off each side along its length, and one door at the far end. None of the doors have signs; Horowitz knew the entire sub-basement complex like the back of her black-leather gloved hands. The floor slowly slid back at the top of the stairs as she strode meaningfully down the corridor to the sixth door. Her phone beeped as she received a text message; there was a booster to get the signal into the basement. She ignored it.



The lock was electronic; she tapped in a twelve-digit code, listened for the click, and pushed the door open. The soundproofing was so good that the corridor went from quiet to loud instantly. Despairing female groans and a heavy scent filled the air. In the centre of the room Asian Reporter Tricia Takanawa was set in concrete. Forced to her hands and knees in a shallow pit – with forearms and lower legs flat against the floor – liquid concrete had been poured in and allowed to set hard until only her thighs and upper arms stuck out, supporting her body in painful doggy-position.



She turned her head as the door opened and pleaded in vowels around the thick metal ring that forced her mouth to remain constantly open. Tricia’s chin was thick slick drooled saliva. She was naked except for the harness strapped around her crotch.



Made of red leather and strapped tightly enough to bite into her tanned skin, it secured twin fourteen inch vibrating dildos – moulded from real donkey cocks – deep inside Takanawa’s stuffed ass and stretched out cunt. Tricia had never had anything bigger than four inches inside her before, and her ass had been totally virginal and very tight. A cable and tubes emerged from the back of the harness; one supplied the dildos with electricity and kept them vibrating fast, another was a catheter lodged into Tricia’s urethra to drain off her piss and the last went through the core of the ass-dildo and slowly sucked out Tricia’s shit to a storage tank.



Tricia stank of sweat and arousal, forced orgasms and desperation.

Horowitz had set it all up the previous evening when Tricia was still mostly out of it from tranquillisers, but this was her first opportunity to come back and check on her captive. While enjoying them immensely, she appeared to ignore Tricia’s frantic incomprehensible pleadings and got down to examine the stickiness of her thighs. It looked like she’d been cumming near constantly for 24 hours; Horowitz ran a gloved finger up the inside of Tricia’s thigh and then slurped the skanky mixture of sweat and pussy juice into her mouth.



“Like, awesome!” she whispered, as the sweat soaked Japanese woman shuddered through another forced climax.



Horowitz unbuttoned her short silk skirt and let it fall to the floor. Her own cunt was dripped wet as she ran her fingers into the older woman’s short black hair and pulled back. Even exhausted from being locked in the muscle-aching position and forced to cum over and over by painfully large vibrating dildos, Tricia recognised the sight of raw animal lust in Horowitz’s eyes.



“My boss is faking up a video of you being kidnapped and held by Al Qaeda sympathisers. In three weeks time they’ll need footage of you, that’s you in physically awful condition after weeks of neglect and abuse, losing your head.”

Tricia’s usually monotone voice rose, though Horowitz still couldn’t make out what the hell she was frantically babbling around the ring. Horowitz guessed it was along the lines of ‘Why me, you crazy bitch?’ but she didn’t feel like keying Horowitz in on how Tricia’s apparently minor investigation for Quahog’s Channel 5 had rattled exactly the wrong cage in the agency. Instead she bent her legs and rubbed her shaved pussy around Tricia’s mouth. Tricia was completely helpless as the uncharitably programmed charity organiser ground her dripping snatch against the Asian reporter's face.



Horowitz’s brainwashing altered mind loved the disgusted look in Tricia’s eyes and hot breath on her pussy. She humped against Tricia’s face, getting more and more aroused thinking about what she had in store for the Asian bitch. Piercing Tricia’s dark nipples and clit was a real priority, breaking the concrete and hanging her until she was almost dead, whippings, brandings a little red hot metal against tender spots. Horowitz was going to use her latest fucktoy hard before it was time to pull the chain.



“Stick your tongue, Tricia-slut. Stick your fucking tongue out and lick me or I’ll cut off your fucking clit!”



Terrified, wondering if this was some kind of sick Glen Quagmire approved joke, Tricia complied. She pushed her tongue out as far as it would go from her aching jaw and tasted Horowitz’s swollen labia. Horowitz groaned, tightening her grip on Tricia’s head. She moaned loudly, getting off on the sights, sounds and smells as much as from Tricia’s inexpert tonguing. Still, she taunted Tricia,



“You’re real good, Tricia! How many cunts have you eaten?”



Tricia’s thoughts were derailed by another strength-sapping orgasm. After so many Tricia was starting to fear the pleasure. Horowitz started to groan and then exploded, splashing Tricia’s face and forced-open mouth heavily with hot girlcum. She came a real gusher, until her cunt juices were dripping heavily down Tricia’s face to the floor.



She was about to start round two when her cell phone rang. Ringtone six. The boss. Horowitz got on the floor and fumbled in her discarded skirt with one hand, while using the other to pull Tricia’s sticky face into the valley of her breasts. Tricia, despairing of release, started to lick the sweaty tit-meat. The phone beeped twice to indicate the line was securely encrypted.



“Hey Boss. I’m kinda busy right now.”



“New priority. We have a Class Six ET hunting in LA. We’ve got bits of six bodies so far - nobody worth a damn to us. You’re the highest rated combat specialist available for three thousand miles. We can’t pull anyone else onto it. A dossier with everything the police have so far & relevant background material has been sent to your mailbox. You have full authorisation to call on any department resources, human or otherwise, you need to bring this thing in – alive if possible, dead if necessary. Retaining cover is official low priority. Good Luck.”



The line went dead. Horowitz stared at her cell phone in shock; the Boss never said good luck. He almost never explained as much either.



What the fuck was a Class Six anyway?



Next: Predator vs Beatrix Kiddo



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