Becca XXX - Double Trouble Ch. 05

Authors note: - This is a follow on to the previous episodes of Becca XXX Double Trouble. Please read them before reading this or you will not understand the plot or characters.

Becca XXX. Double Trouble. Ch 05

It had been an unforgettable evening with the twins but our jubilation was cut short. Natalie and I had stopped dead in the corridor and we were now staring at the paper-tell which was lying on the floor in front of our apartment door.

We'd been so careful; how could anyone have known who we were or where we lived?

I looked at Nat and she looked at me in silence and disbelief. Someone had tracked us down and I knew without a shadow of doubt that they were now in our apartment.

This was now literally a fight-or-flight response as we made a snap decision whether to face whoever was inside or make a run for it. I was pretty sure it was the Meatheads from the black Range Rover who'd tracked us down and I was intrigued to know who they were and what they wanted. The only downside was that we didn't know what we were up against and we certainly didn't want them to have the upper hand.

I was about to ask Natalie what she thought, when suddenly the decision was made for us. Two thick-set men wearing jeans and leather jackets appeared at either end of the corridor, blocking our escape. Two of the Meatheads had their pistols drawn and were pointing them directly at us.

We put our hands up clutching our hand bags as though we were being mugged.

"Take whatever you want," I said, holding my handbag out to them in submission. "There's money in here."

They both moved in closer, unflinching and expressionless.

"Take the money and go," I said again.

"Nyet," said the one nearest to me.

His accent was heavy and sounded Russian. He flicked the pistol in the direction of our door, gesturing that we should go inside. We knew we had no choice but to do as he instructed. They looked well trained and were keeping just enough distance between us and them to prevent us from making a grab for their weapons.

The pistols were dull-black, stubby semiautomatics. I guessed they were Makarov's which were standard issue for Russian police and military. It was a reliable and robust weapon at close range and fired nine-millimetre rounds from an eight-round magazine. At this distance they'd only need one.

The scariest part about it was that the guns weren't fitted with suppressors. Whoever these fuckers were, they weren't worried about making a noise, which meant they either didn't care or they knew they were untouchable. My mind flashed back to the diplomatic plates on their vehicle as I pushed the door open and walked slowly inside, making no sudden movements that might spook them into shooting us. I kept my handbag in my hand and moved into the open-plan living area.

Two more men in identical clothing were waiting at the breakfast bar. The door closed behind us and we were pushed further into the room.

"Who are you? What do you want with us?" asked Natalie, in a frightened voice.

She got a slap on the back of her head for her trouble.

No one spoke.

The silence was deafening.

My mind raced at a thousand miles an hour wondering how we were going to overpower and subdue four armed men the size of grizzly bears. Their heads were shaved and perched on top of their neck-less shoulders and they were as wide as the door frame. Everything about them looked mean and dangerous. I glanced at the kitchen counter and saw the rolling pin which I'd left out in case of a scenario such as the this one. Unfortunately, it was too far away and would be useless against them anyway. No one in their right minds takes a knife to a gun fight so a rolling pin would have been suicidal.

One of the guys at the breakfast bar stood up and came towards us. His gaze flashed between the two of us, one by one. He appeared to the one in charge and was looking for the alpha female.

As he got level with me, he jabbed me in the stomach just once, knocking the wind out of me and doubling me over. As I fought to draw breath in, he did the same to Natalie. He hadn't even asked who we were and the violence had already started. He wanted to soften us up and make sure we knew who was in charge and I knew this was about to get a whole lot worse.

"Strip," he said in a Russian accent.

"What?" I gasped in shock.

He jabbed me again, a little harder.

"Strip," he repeated. "Clothes off."

I looked at Nat and she shrugged and pulled her boob tube over her head and unzipped her skirt. I slipped my shoulder straps down and allowed my dress to fall to the floor. We both folded our arms over our breasts to give us some cover and bowed our heads to look intimidated. It didn't take a lot of acting on my part, I was terrified. My heart raced and my mouth was dry with fear. We were now standing in front of the sofa wearing only our panties, which didn't seem to please the boss very much.

He looked at my yellow thong and then back into my eyes. He didn't need to tell me to take them off it was all in his facial expressions. He wanted us to be naked, but didn't want to waste his precious words by asking us to strip again. I got the message loud and clear and didn't fancy another punch in the stomach.

I kept one arm across my chest to cover my breasts and used my spare hand to take my knickers off and throw them on the floor. My hand then dropped to my pubic bone and loosely covered my pussy from view. Natalie copied me.

Meathead two smirked from the breakfast bar as he looked us up and down. He licked his lips and said something in Russian to the two we'd met in the corridor. They all laughed like idiots, sharing some private joke.

"What's this all about?" I asked. "Just take anything you want and leave us alone... please."

The boss grabbed me by the wrists and pulled my arms down by my side so my breasts and vagina were no longer covered. The chill in the room made my nipples hard and my instinct was to cover myself back up but I thought better of it.

He glared at Natalie who uncovered herself without being told. This was all part of them trying to frighten us and it was working. Making us get naked made us feel vulnerable and exposed, without the imaginary protection of clothing. Wearing clothes made people feel secure, so making us remove them had the opposite effect.

"What is your interest in the Kingsleys?" asked the boss.

"Who?" I asked.

"Stupid bitch. You don't even know their family name," he spat. "The twins who you met with last night. What is your interest in them?"

"We just wanted to get friendly with them," said Nat.

"You are prostitutes? Da?"

"Why does everyone keep asking us that? No, we're not," I replied.

"You must be high-class prostitutes looking at the motor cycles you were riding," he said. "You take money for sex? Da?"

"No. We're street racers," I said. "We wanted to race last night for money but they wouldn't let us."

I was sticking to our cover story. They didn't seem to know who we were, any more than we knew who they were.

"You're street racers?" he laughed.

He said something in Russian again and the others laughed.

Two sexy young girls being street racers seemed to be an international joke.

"Look... if you want the bikes just take them," said Natalie. "The keys are near the door."

He ignored her and stared into my eyes. All his attention was on me as the dominant female.

"You tell lies," he said. "You are not racers. Who are you?"

He must have seen a glimmer of a tell from me but I wasn't going to give up. I was trained in interrogation and knew what was coming next. The biggest threat a woman can get from a group of four male assailants was being raped. I could cope with that and strangely accepted my fate with open arms.

"Isn't it polite to tell me who you are first?" I said.

He smirked at me and picked up my handbag, emptying the contents of it onto the coffee table. Everything spilled out in a clatter and he picked up my wallet and opened it looking for some form of identification.

"Rebecca Swanson," he said holding up my fake driver's license. "Twenty-four years old."

He repeated the process with Natalie's bag and found her driver's license.

"Natalie Rogers. Same age. More Lies."

He routed around on the table looking to see what else he could use to identify us. He was obviously from some military background or police and he knew a Tactical-pen when he saw one. He picked up the six-inch black steel object and twiddled it in his fingers like a magician.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A pen. You can write words with it," I said sarcastically.

He smirked at my back chat.

"English girls.... always so full off attitude," he said, his voice was constant but his accent made it menacing. "It's for writing? Da?"

"That's the general idea."

He twisted the top to make the nib protrude out and examined it as though he'd never seen a pen before. He positioned his hand above my breasts and wrote something onto my chest. I craned my neck to see the word 'SLUT' written on my skin in black writing.

I didn't react, but I could see where this was heading.

He picked up Natalie's pen and repeated the process with her. This time he wrote the word 'WHORE'.

"Your names are fake. These are your names now," he said. "Slut... and whore," he pointed at each of us in turn.

We ignored his crew's laughter.

"What sort of girls carry pens like these?" he asked holding them up.

"I don't know what you mean," said Nat.

"These are military items used by clandestine operatives, spies, assassins. Which are you?" he continued.

Neither of us answered. I didn't like where he was going with this. It seemed ironic to me that the Tactical-pen was there as a self-defence weapon and that it had incriminated us further. He threw the pens onto the floor in disgust and moved closer.

"I ask one last time... Who are you? What is your interest in the Kingsleys?"

He got nothing but silence from both of us. We couldn't tell him anything even if we wanted to, we didn't know what the assignment was all about. We had to let this play out and look for an opportunity to split the group. We stood no chance with four of them onto two of us. Not without getting hold of their weapons.

"I try to be nice and do it the easy way, but you bitches want to play games. So be it," he motioned to Meatheads three and four who were behind us.

We were both grabbed in a strangle hold with an arm wrapped around our necks. Natalie was dragged backwards down the hallway and into her room and the door was kicked shut. I could hear her screaming even above my own panicked shrieks.

I was pulled backwards onto the sofa with my head pulled over the arm of it while I tried to struggle free. I tried to fight them off but I was held down by one of them sitting on my legs and the other holding my shoulders and head in position. I was naked and helpless. The one who'd been doing all the talking came closer and stood next to me looking down at my petrified face.

His sickening smile told me everything about him. He was going to enjoy this.

I heard his zipper being undone and waited for the inevitable cock being shoved into my mouth. I closed my eyes and tried to think of a happy place but it was difficult when all I could hear was screams and shouts from Natalie's room as she was raped by the fourth guy.

"He likes it rough," he said, nodding towards her room. "And he likes it even more when they don't."

"Let us go you mother fuckers. Leave her alone," I cried, still struggling beneath the giant on top of me.

The boss smiled down at me and held his cock in his hand. He was well on the way to being hard and although I was scared, I liked the look of his cock. I was in a submissive position, helpless and frantic and my body knew it all too well. The guy sitting on me spread my legs just wide enough to slide three fingers into me. He was mean and brutal with his assault, forcing his way in and stretching the hole that had had two cocks in it only an hour ago. I was still soaking wet much to his delight.

"She's dripping," he said in a booming Russian voice, speaking for the first time.

"She will be in a minute," said the boss.

Instead of feeling my mouth getting filled with man meat, I felt warm liquid raining down on me.

The dirty cunt was pissing me.

His hot urine hit me straight in the mouth making me choke and cough. As quickly as it started, it stopped and I felt like commending him on his bladder control.

"There are many complex methods to get information from people, but the simplest ways are always the best," he said.

"Fuck you!" I spat piss back at him.

"No slut. It is your whore friend who's being fucked," he sneered.

"Raped you mean?"

He picked up my dress from the floor and gave it a sniff.

"Pretty," he said folding it neatly. "This will do nicely. Do you know what water-boarding is?"

I'd heard the term on the news. It was apparently used by the military all over the world to interrogate people. It involved holding a piece of cloth over your nose and mouth and then pouring water onto it to make you drown. It was pretty horrendous by all accounts.

I didn't answer him, as I knew that whatever I said it wouldn't make any difference. He passed the folded dress to Meathead two who also gave it a sniff. Meathead three was still fingering me as I took a deep breath and waited.

The dress was wrapped over my face which muffled my involuntary screams. A few seconds later the dress became wet as the boss pissed all over it. I fought for breath but only inhaled urine which made me gag and choke. My oxygen was running out as my body tried to lash out and save itself. I was flailing uncontrollably as the panic took over.

Just as I thought I was going under; the dress was removed and the pissing stopped. I gasped and hacked and spat piss everywhere tying to oxygenate my poor lungs.

I heard laughing and screaming from Natalie's room as her attacker enjoyed himself against her will. If she was just being fucked, she was having a lot more fun than I was right now.

"Again, who are you? What's your interest in the Kingsleys? Answer those two simple questions and all this will be over," said the boss.

"I'm... cough.... telling... the.... spit.... truth," I spluttered.

He gave an imperceptible nod and the pee-soaked dress was put back on my face. I took another useless deep breath and waited for the peeing to start. It felt like rain hitting a tent when you go camping, but that feeling didn't last long. I was soon fighting again and the blackness was closing in. I had no idea how much water this guy had drank, but his supply of pee seemed to be never ending.

Once more, just when I thought I was going to black-out the dress was removed. The guy sitting on me climbed off and for one brief moment I thought it was all over and that they believed I was telling the truth.

I was wrong.

He undid his belt and dropped his trousers and pants. He was already hard as he shuffled between my legs. I was too weak to fight him off by now, but I preferred being raped to being water-boarded.

"You know how to make it stop," said the boss. "It'll save your whore friend too. I'm sure her cunt looks like a butcher's bin by now. He'll have fucked her into submission."

"Please no more," I begged.

If I did know anything, I would have told them. I would have done anything not to be pissed on again. Water boarding was certainly a good technique to make people submit and I could see why it was used. My first-hand experience of it was something I never wanted to feel again.

"You people are all the same. You think because you're female operatives that we'll go easy on you," he continued. "You stupid little girls don't even know what you're getting yourselves into."

"And what might that be?" I gasped.

He ignored me and continued his mental and verbal assault on me while his friend rubbed his cock against my labia. It was all part of the humiliation and scare tactics. I knew he was going to fuck me but he was prolonging my anguish.

"Have you ever been raped Rebecca? It can be quite horrific apparently. Feeling a man violate your most private places. A place you save for the person you love in your life," he taunted. "That place is going to be used and abused by my two friends here. How do you feel about that?"

I felt quite horny when I compared it to being pissed on again, but I didn't tell him that.

"How will you tell your boyfriend that another man has fucked you? Imagine how it will feel to tell him that another man has been inside you," he was laying it on thick, I had to give him that. "Of course, we won't use condoms, so I hope you're on some sort of birth control."

"Go fuck yourself!"

He smirked.

"Such a predictable reaction from an operative," he replied. "You try to be defiant but it never works. You will tell me what I want to know."

"I've told you the truth," I spat. "I don't know what you're talking about. Please just let me go."

He ignored my pleas once again. He was enjoying his little perverted speech.

"Most girls like you don't let their lovers sodomise them," he said. "You know... fuck their assholes, but that's what he's going to do to you. He'll fuck both your holes, he's not fussy. You are just a piece of meat to him."

His tone and tempo never changed. He was calm and menacing and my pussy was overflowing with desire just hearing his threats. I knew I was a freak but the more he talked about what was going to happen to me, the hornier I got.

"You'll have to explain to your lover that you didn't stop another man from fucking your ass, even though you wouldn't let him do it to you. He'll think you're a slut, which is exactly what you are."

I spat some piss-laced saliva straight at him in defiance.

The screaming and shouting seemed to have calmed down in Natalie's room but there was a rhythmic knocking noise as she got raped by Meathead four. I hoped she was alright; she was trained for this just like I was, but I still couldn't see an opportunity to escape. I was relying on her.

"Before my friend here butchers your fuck holes with his cock, is there anything you want to tell me? Last chance," he said.

"I don't know anything," I begged. "Please let us go."

The boss looked at the guy between my legs and nodded at him.

"Rape her," he ordered his man, like it was nothing.

The Meathead smiled down at me like an escaped mental patient and rammed his cock inside me. I felt my wetness squelch out of me as he pushed in with a groan.

"Mmmm she's got a juicy little cunt," he grinned. "Tight too."

"She must be enjoying it," laughed the boss. "I knew she was a fucking slut."

I was enjoying it.

I loved the feeling of his fat dick pushing in and out of me against my will. I had to put the situation out of my mind and look at the positive side of things. I was being fucked hard by a complete stranger and I had no doubt that once he'd cum in me that the others would have a turn too. Being treated like a fuck doll always made me horny and I knew my orgasm wasn't far away.

Just as I thought about how enjoyable this was compared to being waterboarded, the wet dress was wrapped around my face again. My breathing was once again restricted and my body went into overdrive to stay alive. My nerve endings became over-sensitised and I felt my orgasm about to explode out of me.

The pissing started once more and I came instantly. To them it must have looked like I was convulsing again but I was having an earth-shattering climax. The lack of oxygen and feeling of helplessness and humiliation was all it had taken for me to cum like the filthy slut I was. My mixed feelings of thinking I was about to die and the feeling of my monumental orgasm emanating from the centre of my being, sent my head into a spin. The guy between my legs must have felt me get tighter and wetter but he carried on pounding my spasming fuck hole thinking I was hating it.