Perils of Penelope Young-Jugs, Chapter 6, A Most Dangerous Accomplice

*Chapter Six*

"A Most Dangerous Accomplice"

Kat looked down at the three women littering the floor of the security office. Peaches and Cream were both lying exhausted next to each other. The Hogtie that Danger Babe had put them in looked as tight and perfect as if it had been applied fifteen minutes ago. They were still connected by a their small tufts of pubic hair.

After so much time and struggling she was impressed that the two had made absolutely no progress in escaping from the bondage. The knots were beautifully tied and had an aesthetic quality that seemed a little elaborate for regular police work.

Kat shook herself from the trance. It must be effects of that orgasm gas that the Dairy Queen had been using. She had always had a latent fascination with bondage and she guessed the long sessions of bondage and forced sex under the influence of the orgasm gas must have sensitized her, creating a mental association between sex and bondage.

The Dairy queen was still lying on the floor of the office, bound hand and foot. Kat kicked her in the thigh with the brass toe of her high-heeled pumps. Olga groaned slightly and pulled her legs up in a weak reflex. She was starting to come around and Kat started to think that safe was better than sorry. The bitch had obviously spent a lot of time around ropes and was an expert in the art deadly bondage. To Kat that implied she probably was as good at getting out of ropes as getting others into them.

Penelope had said that it would probably take the State troopers a good forty-five minutes to an hour to get there. She looked at Olga and her two cronies. Peaches and Cream were still solidly bound but Kat worried how good a job they had done in securing their leader. Both Kat and Penelope had been exhausted from their ordeals and the fight in the elevator.

Using a coil left over from someone binding someone else in the course of the last two days, Kat knelt down next to the groggy villainess and started to add an additional layer of safety. She first tied Olga’s legs above the knees. After knotting that off, she cut another length two bind her at the elbows.

Kat would never have thought of this on her own, but her experiences over the past few days had taught her a wealth about restraining an adversary. Kat could not imagine that there was any way that Olga would be able to free her hands now.

As she worked, Kat was warmed to the task. Olga had been unforgiving in her treatment of the pretty young police officer and Kat was savoring the payback. If Olga stirred or groaned, Kat would immediately tighten the rope, push harder or just get meaner.

She worked hard at making the Dairy Queen as uncomfortable as possible. Consumed with payback, Kat failed to notice the security monitor showing the image of a black wagon pulling up by the main entrance. Nor did she see the figure get and don a gray trooper’s hat. The figure was dressed in a traditional gray trooper’s uniform of riding breaches and black saddle boots.

Kat saw the trooper out of the corner of her eye just as she was putting the finishing touches on the Dairy Queens improved hog-tie. The uniform made her hesitate almost a moment too long. The officer was much too short to be real and Kat was just fast enough to ward off a sweeping kick to the head. The polished jack-boot glinted in he light as Kat deflected it with her arm.

The blow succeeded in knocking Kat over onto the helpless Dairy Queen. Olga let out a loud oomph as the young policewoman tumbled onto her. Kat quickly sprang back, regaining her footing in preparation for another blow.

Her attacker was a woman considerably shorter than herself, with a flow of jet black hair coming from under the gray hat with its sharp black visor pulled down covering her face and eyes. She assumed a fighting stance and launched a quick series of karate punches at Kat’s face.

Kat was surprised at the rapidity of the blows and the disciplined precision of the attack. Kat was almost completely overwhelmed trying to block the furious onslaught. She was able to block most of them effectively, but eventually the attacks took its toll. The punches came in a steady, disciplines stream, but Kat’s exhaustion was quickly eroding her defenses. She was getting sloppier and progressively weak.

Seeing the need to take the offensive, Kat made a block and grab motion as the fake trooper tried to land the heel of her hand in the vulnerable area under Kat’s armpit. Locking her hand around her attacker’s Kat twisted the smaller woman in front of her. The attacker was suddenly facing the other way with her arm twisted behind her back.

Now that she had the stolen the initiative from the fake trooper, Kat pushed her forward trying to step free of her entanglement with the hogtied Dairy Queen.

But Olga had other ideas. As Kat lifted foot from behind the Dairy Queen, Olga grabbed wildly at the passing ankle. Kat lost her balance and pushed her assailant towards the ground as she stumbled after. The instant Kat’s grip loosened the fake trooper pulled free and spun back around to face Kat, just in time to see the girl recover her balance.

The fake trooper had had her fun and seemed determined to end the battle. She took a last punch at Kat, shooting her arm straight out. The punch fell way short of Kat’s face, however, physical contact was not its purpose. A thin jet of white aerosol squirted into Kat’s face.

Kat knew immediately what had been done. She recognized the sickeningly sweet taste of the venom. She coughed and sputtered as the gas blinded her eyes and penetrated her lungs. It was only seconds before she was an unconscious heap on the floor. Her black hair sprawled out and the short plaid skirt exposing her long tan legs.

The trooper admired her handy work for a moment. She liked a good fight and regretted having to end the contest so quickly. Her boss was always quick to give her play time and she hoped that he might be generous with the this beautiful young thing. The unconscious policewoman had given almost as well as she got and the thought of seeing how much the defeated cop would be able to take in a fight or otherwise made her brush her thighs with anticipation.

The grunting of the three Crime Net associates bound and gagged on the floor forced the reality back into the bogus officer’s mind, she would have to leave her perversions for later. She had come there specifically to prevent the Dairy Queen from being arrested and the entire operation from being exposed. She didn’t like Olga’s theatrics and her elaborate fronts, but this wasn’t her show.

She pulled a small knife from her belt and cut the key ropes in her compatriots hog ties. She especially enjoyed watching as Peaches and Cream writhe as they collapsed from exhaustion. The two must have been tied like that for a long time. It would have been most amusing to see the two dykes suffering.

They both lay still on the ground for a few moments while the blood pumped through their limbs. Peaches pulled her arms down in front of her and tried to extricate her pubic hair from the knot of rubber band. Her numb fingers fiddled uselessly at the patch of reddened skin and hair. A few moments Cream followed suit; also trying to futilely extricated her pubis.

The petit Asian crook watched in amusement as the dead fingers worked at the hopeless tangle. She was in no hurry to help these useless flunkies. They were a crude bunch. But they served a purpose and as long as the boss wanted them around, it was her job to help them clean up the mess.

The Dairy Queen grunted in annoyance at the slow progress of her release. She didn’t like bondage at all, at least if she was the one being tied and gagged. Her fury at her predicament and the casual pace of her release overcame the effects of her own knockout gas.

Eventually, the Dairy Queen’s turn at freedom came and the sharp dagger sliced easily through the robes. As soon as her arms were free she regained most of her composure and sat up. She pulled the saliva-coated knot of cloth from her mouth and started spitting obscenities laced with orders at Peaches and Cream.

“Let’s get the lovely officer Dickworthy out here before the real Staties show up.” The Dairy Queen’s fury made her temporarily immune to after effects of her own poison gas.

“Can’t we just toss her in a one of the machines and let the mixers cut her perky little body to shreds?” Cream begged. Of the two milkmaids, she was by far the more viscous. She was in love with quick and bloody torture. She realized that they would have only a few minutes to dispose of the unwelcome spy and after their humiliating defeat with Danger Babe, both she and Peaches were interested in some quick revenge.

“No, Miss Young-Jugs is who I want and this perky little body is just the thing we need to get her to come to us.” Olga’s mind was racing. The adrenaline of anger was leaving her and thoughts of erotic torture and the unconscious Asian was starting to warm her blood.

“Girls, go with Qir and get the casket out the Hearse, I think our lovely friend here will be able to serve us one last time...”

The four villainesses quickly transferred Kat into the casket in the back of the old Hearse that was the only vehicle parked in the factories’ front lot. Peaches and Cream stayed behind with orders to quickly sanitize and torch the building before the real state troopers could arrive.

The Dairy Queen sat in the front next to the tiny Asian as the Hearse roared recklessly down the pitted and deserted roads. The lacquered casket was secured in the back; its voluptuous interior absorbed the bumps and thuds as its bound and gagged occupant was tossed from side to side in the dark confines.

Kat Dickworthy was rolled and pitched in the dark, but only slowly recovered her senses in the black confines. She knew she was in trouble and that she was being transported somewhere. Still, she could only guess how or to where. She tried to raise her bound legs to kick them against the end of the box where she had slid during the jolting ride, her knees immediately hit the confining space of the lid. With her arms and hands pinned behind her she could not explore the space beyond the fact that it lined with some sort of quilt or bedding.

She yelled into the gag that was stretched between her teeth. It was surprisingly ineffective for the Dairy Queen. The screams still came back to her dully as the quilted coffin lining absorbed them and her words were only muffled slurs of what she was trying to say.

The Hearse lurched along the darkening roads through the suburbs of Buzzsaw. The deep pits in the pavement made the car role side to side as the Dairy Queen and her Asian driver careened away from the abandoned factory. In an hour the building would be nothing more than a smoldering ruin.

Danger Babe had escaped from her death trap, but Olga was confident that this would only be a temporary setback. In the rear of the hearse she had her ace.

Miss Young-Jugs had risked her life once to save the pretty young officer. Olga was willing to bet her farm that she would do it again.

The Dairy Queen motioned for her driver to follow the next right turn. The hearse now rolled from the dilapidated pavement on to an unmarked cow path that twisted from one dusty hill to the next.

Kat was feeling bruised and tired, as she lay helpless in the dark. Her arms ached from the uncomfortable bondage and repeated pounding she received from being flung around inside the coffin. The voluptuous lining that she had seen in other coffins turned out to be mostly for show. Every bump and slap her body made seemed to end in contact with hard wood.

The dark solid confines of the box gave Kat time to evaluate her future. It didn’t look good. When the Dairy Queen had caught her trying to infiltrate the factory a few days ago, She was visited several times a day. The Dairy Queen always seemed amused by the interrogations. Kat’s was tied into a variety of devises that seemed primarily designed for pleasing the Dairy Queen’s dark love of sexual torture and less for getting meaningful answers out of Kat.

But, as the days had gone on, the Dairy Queen seemed less interest in stopping the devises before they could cause permanent harm to her. Kat resisted the torture as best she could, realizing that her survival was grounded in the Dairy Queen not losing interest in her plaything. As long as Kat held out against the drugs, bondage and elaborate toys, the Dairy Queen would not take her life. The idea of breaking the special agent’s will and finding out what secrets Interpol had about Crime Net would keep her safe.

Now, Kat knew that was a fallacy. Crime Net controlled the local police and they had turned her over to Olga, like a lollipop to the winner of the spelling bee. Kat didn’t have anything they wanted. After having to pull out of the ice-cream factory, Kat was a millstone around Olga’s neck.

The sooner that Kat was dead and buried the better for Olga and Crime Net.

Or, just buried. Kat gave a sharp thump at the bottom of the coffin. She was wild with fear. She realized that the little Asian woman who had attacked Kat was probably sent by Crime Net to clean up the Dairy Queen’s mess. At least, thought Kat, the Dairy Queens body will probably be buried on top of her own.

Kat was still trying to shake off the effects of the venom that she inhaled. The fear, mixed with the darkness, tight bonds, and the enclosed space inside the coffin heightened the effect of the gas. As she struggled to extricate her hands and feet from her bonds, she felt her thighs moisten. Despite the shame she felt at the feelings, she wished she could get her fingers to scratch the itch that was growing between her legs.

The car lurched along the rough roads until Kat heard a sudden change in the tone. The engine sounded louder, as if the old hears had entered a tunnel. The drive smoothed out and suddenly it lurched to a stop.

Kat panted breathlessly in the stuffy confines of the box. Her body was moist from her struggles and the air was stale. She listened quietly to slamming of car doors and muffled voices.

The fake officer opened the back of the Hearse and tugged at the end of the coffin. It slid along the rollers easily until it tipped at an angle off the back of the cargo bed. The lid of the coffin jerked open the little Asian, still in her cap and jackboots checked on the status of their captive. The petit Asian’s dark eyes glimmered impassively from under the black visor. If she was happy that Kat had not suffocated or broken her neck during the rough drive from the factory, Kat couldn’t tell. She grabbed the bound girl’s arm she hauled her out the casket and dumped her roughly on the ground.

The floor of the building was packed dirt, bone dry, with bits of loose bits of straw mixed with the top layer of dust. The building had the distinctive scent of agriculture. Kat puffed the dusty fresh air from the ground. Her sweaty body and saliva soaked gag were quickly coated in brown earth and straw.

Kat rolled onto her back and looked at the black expanse of ceiling above her. She could see gray timbered rafters above her and in the blackness beyond, needlepoints of pink dawn coming through gaps in the tin roof. The barn was still dark, but seemed bright after the total blackness of the coffin.

Kat wriggled on to her side, her legs and arms ached from the snug ropes. Still, after what seemed like hours in the stuffy confines of the box, rolling about in the dirt seemed a relief. Kat was frantic to figure out what the Dairy Queen and her new assistant had planned.

Aching and tired, the gas still gave Kat the strange sense of arousal. The sensation was familiar after her days of captivity and interrogation. It gave the same type depressed feelings she had when she was young and had masturbated too much. Dirty, tired, humiliated with by her arousal and yet not able to stop.

The Dairy Queen took charge and together the to fiends dragged the special agent across the floor by her shoulders. Kat could see little, though she craned her head up to find out what her future might hold. She saw a large wooden “X” lying on the ground. As got closer she recognized four wrist/ankle shackles and a leather belt bolted to it, a St. Andrew’s cross. She knew the name from her police training in the Hong Kong vice unit and its purpose from her captivity at the ice cream factory.

She attempted to wriggle free, but she was much to securely bound. Olga and her jackbooted assistant hardly lost a step as they pulled Kat to the cross. Both women were much too experienced to have any trouble securing the girl to the device. First, they freed her ankles and pulled her legs apart and closed the shackles around the thin ankles, pulling them widely apart in the process. The slutty little plaid skirt that Kat had thrown on after being freed by Danger Babe was hiked up to the waistband, exposing the narrow black panties that provided her a last bit of modesty. The white cotton blouse that she had tied across her front was now covered in dirt from the floor and twisted so the brown skin of her areola peaked from a ripped buttonhole.

After securing her wrists and waist snuggly to the cross, Olga stood up and crossed into the dark recesses of the barn, leaving Kat alone and vulnerable with her petit Asian assailant.

“You good pretty.” The woman quipped, now straddling her spread-eagle Kat. Kat glared back at the woman’s eyes, trying to keep a defiant front, yet she was becoming more uncertain about her fate. The Dairy Queen had taken sadistic delight in her interrogation games with Kat. The Dairy Queen, as fucked up as she was, always had a sick affection came through her eyes.

This woman had big dark eyes that were unblinking and almost dead in feeling, except for the hate. She hated Kat with a passion that was almost super-human. The murderous eyes froze Kat as the little villainess pulled a dagger from a sheath on the back of her belt. Kat flicked her eyes from the knife to the face of her would be murder. A sadistic, almost happy grin crept across it. She rotated the knife so the hard steel butt of it disappeared behind her back.

Kat flinched as she felt the cold metal of the handle. It carefully traced the edge of her labia through the fabric of her panties. She was stock still as the blunt of the knife grazed the edge of her sex. Her skin was sensitized from days of abuse and the insidious effects of the gas. Her sex became flush with arousal and fear. She longed to be saved from this tiny psychopath; even the sadistic torments of the Dairy Queen seemed safer than another minute alone with her.

The little sadist bent forward and pressed her lips against the now filthy gag. Kat felt the hilt of the knife leave her privates as the smaller woman licked her in a rough, animalistic way.

The blade of knife traced its way up her mid-line just to remind Kat that her body was only moments from a painfully quick and gory death. Her captor reared back, her little white teeth tugging at Kat’s lower lip. Her free hand brusquely grabbed Kat’s nipple and tugged it clear of her blouse.

In an instant, the edge of the blade was scraping along the stretched skin, shaving off the layer of quickly accumulating sweat from Kat’s breast. Kat began to squirm as the little Asian sadistically beamed.

“You very pretty for Chinese girl, but not enough meat to feed vultures that will pick over you bones.” She leaned forward and drew the sharp blade so that it pressed between Kat’s ear and the corner of her jaw.

With the knife and its implied threat, Qir drew herself in and started kissing and probing Kat with her bee sting lips and agile tongue. Letting her victim support her small body, Qir’s free hand moved down Kat’s body, roughly exploring the soft flesh and exposed curves. Soon her small hands were violating the young agent.

Kat responded the only way the Dairy Queen’s sex gas would allow, her hips were gyrating in rhythm with rough touch of the penetrating fingers. Qir continued her aggressive biting and kissing.

The Dairy Queen’s days of sexual torture and perverse perils had conditioned Kat to respond to sexually to the intense danger and vulnerability of her situation. As she felt the needle sharp tip of the knife slide from her jaw down onto her throat, Kat’s hips bucked and thrust in time with the quickening pace of the probing fingers. When the tip of blade reached her jugular, Kat could feel the knife slowly pressing against her, putting more and more pressure on her throat. Kat was immobilized by a shuddering orgasm. The little sadist was no longer Kissing and biting. Through the haze of drugged sex, Kat peeked from nearly closed eyes at her attacker.

Her round little face with dark eyes and bee-stung lips was covered with a look of relaxed bliss, like she was sharing in Kat’s ecstasy. Kat knew what the little Asian intended, and she was unable to escape. She closed her eyes and waited for the blade to puncture her delicate neck.

By S. Sneakly

Next: Pasteurized, Processed Police Peril