SOVIET SADIST'S SLAVE - Sex Stories

SOVIET SADIST'S SLAVE

... onto his knees. The two of them drew his spunk out the slit of his pecker. It shot like a blast from a cannon. A single white stream of spunk arced out of the end of his dick and flew into Tamara's open mouth. She took every ounce of the hot jism and swallowed it whole. She swallowed it without question. It was the only way she could possibly survive. "And you will, of course, sign these," Tamara said, waving the colorful postcards in the girls faces. "Sign them with your names and say a few nice words about the pictures on the front." Ursula and Penny looked foggily at the picture postcards. There were scenes of Rome and Venice and the Alps, among others. "What are these for?" Penny said, seized with alarm. "They're for Rudy to mail," Tamara said with characteristic haughtiness. "They're so your parents and loved ones won't worry about you." Penny and Ursula looked down at their battered and bruised bodies. The travesty of that statement made them both laugh harshly. "They'll be going out from time to time for the next few weeks... from all the places in the pictures... just say something cheery and sign off, dears." Penny grabbed one and scoffed at it openly. "Now, now," Tamara said casting the girl a s**thing look, "let's not get hostile. Remember, your parents and loved ones are going to think you've left the tour and struck out on your own. That will jibe beautifully with the note we sent the tour guide in Paris postmarked from Copenhagen." "You vile little bitch!" ...

... Penny said, throwing herself at Tamara with her nails extended. Ursula had to pull her off, but she wasn't sure why. Tamara deserved everything they could throw at her... she deserved to be strung up by her nipples all over again... and she would applaud this time. Only she did not want the two of them to get into any trouble... not any more trouble than they were in already. It had been an especially grueling week. Three times they had been taken into a dark little cell and had lights shone in their eyes while some party boss or another preached to them about the joys of life in the great U.S.S.R. and superiority of Communist military might and the imminent fall of the West. As if that weren't bad enough, they were kept awake night after night by what seemed like hordes of soldiers gang r****g them. Last night had been particularly ugly. Tamara, of course, presided over the evening. She brought a whip for herself to use this time... little turncoat that she was... and now, for all they knew Boris Kropotnik's mistress. The two of them spent a good deal of time together. Arm in arm, as a matter of fact. Just about the time the girls were drifting off to sl**p, d***k with the haranguing words of their captors ringing in their ears, the cell door was thrown open. By now, they had come to expect that sort of thing. But this time was worse. Four... or was it five soldiers marched in and had their way with them. Tamara saw to it that they were strung up and m*****ed in every orifice. ...