John Detroit glared defiantly at his captives and flexed his muscles. Two of the brawny apes — so-called heavies employed to do the dirty work — stood on either side of the only exit and stoically ignored him. At the same time, the Russian mafia's beautiful but ruthless enforcer, Nikita Tavorik scornfully regarded his attempt at resistance.

In truth, despite his truculent glare, Detroit was a scared man. Who wouldn't be? It's not every day you’re blindfolded, bundled into a car, and driven to a secluded location. Hearing seagulls cawing, he assessed that he was probably in the town’s old harbour — most likely in a disused warehouse.

'An excellent place to dispose of dead bodies,' he thought, his pessimism at a peak after being dragged from the car and roughly bound to a chair.

When the blindfold was unceremoniously removed, his suspicions were confirmed: bloodstains on the floor. Detroit couldn't shut out the thought that previous occupants of this chair were now fish food. In front of him, half of a fifty-gallon drum had been filled with water, and despite his thrashing about, it still swilled above his ankles. Attached to a transformer, the crocodile clips clamped to his chest were becoming more and more painful even without electricity passing through them.

Detroit didn't want to admit it, but he'd had about all he could take. Sitting there, slowly recovering from a previous bout of torture, he pondered all his stupid decisions that had led to this state of affairs. The only person he could blame was himself. Why had he been so greedy? Didn't the Russians pay him enough? A shiver ran down his spine. They were paying him more than he could ever spend, so why had he siphoned off more money and thought he could get away with it?

He should have known better but his ego, his professional pride, had taken over. He was the best fucking accountant in London; after all, that's why they’d come to him. They wanted a safe way of laundering their ill-gotten gains, and that's what Detroit delivered. If they had patience, his system would triple their investment tax-free and, importantly, it would be legal.

Of course, Detroit knew the answers to his questions. Because he was always one step ahead of the authorities, he also believed he could do likewise with these employers. Unfortunately for him, Russia had some of the cleverest mathematicians in the world.

Logically, there had to be a few brainiacs working for the mafia. He’d ignored that fact. 'What a fucking moron,’ he now admitted. It had taken the Russians a long time to discover who was stealing their money — but they’d been swift in taking action. A cunning plan, aided by poor judgment on his part, had sprung the trap. Now, all he could do was sit and wait until they extracted the ultimate price for his stupid bloody pride.

He glanced around. A gigantic television screen in the corner of the room caught his attention. What’s that doing there? Maybe Nikita enjoys watching recordings of herself beating me up. All part of my punishment. Although she was a beauty, her heart was pure evil. Oh, the ignominy of getting my ass kicked by a girl. Despite Detroit’s dire position, the dark humour caused a tight-lipped smile.

It didn't go unnoticed.

"You think this is funny, John? Do you see us laughing?"

He should have been scared witless, but the soft Russian accent sounded so sexy his cock twitched and his imagination took flight. An image of him fucking Nikita's tight, little ass — after tying her over this chair — was really appealing. Detroit offered his captor another wispy smile. Accepting this was his last day on earth, Detroit was determined not to appear frightened. He wouldn’t give the Russians that satisfaction.

"Go fuck yourself, bitch," he said.

Immediately, a well-manicured hand delivered a stunning slap, jerking his head violently to one side. Blood dribbled from a split lip.

"Don't talk to me like that, John," Nikita said calmly. "You're not in any position to be facetious. We know you took our money. There’s no point denying it. We simply want to know where it is. We want it back.”

She strutted around his chair, a hand trailing over his shoulders. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way; the choice is yours. Rest assured, we will find out, we always do. Even if you’re dead by then." Nikita paused, dramatically letting that statement hang in the air. “Unless, of course, you decide to make things easier for yourself. Who knows, if you tell me what I want to know, maybe I can keep you alive. Lessons learned and all that. Give yourself a break before things get too nasty.”

"As if electrocuting me through my nipples is a picnic," he mumbled, head bowed.

But Detroit’s situation was not exactly how Nikita described it. Despite her threats, John Detroit could not die — at least, not yet.

The money he'd skimmed was a drop in the ocean — especially compared to the profits his schemes generated — but it wasn't good business to let the hired help steal from you. That said, the Russians feared that Detroit may have a backup plan. In the event of his sudden death, perhaps details of their business would land in the laps of the authorities. That could not only mean a significant dip in income but also the loss of freedom for many of its members, including some top bosses. And the money laundering scheme would end. Permanently.

Yet, Detroit needed to learn what happens if you cross the Russian mafia, and so they’d sent their most feared and effective enforcer to sort out the mess. Nikita Tavorik’s success depended on several things falling into place. Most importantly at this time, she had to find Detroit's vulnerabilities and exploit them. Unless Nikita found the man's Achilles heel — and soon — she might even find herself sitting in a similar chair.

Nikita was impressed that the stubborn Englishman had taken all the physical abuse they’d hurled at him. She decided that continuing the shock treatment was pointless. It was time for her contingency plan, one that her superiors probably wouldn't allow. But she didn't care. She was convinced it would break Detroit's resolve, and help her gain leverage over him — and make him more compliant in any possible future dealings.

While her subordinates had brought Detroit to the purpose-built interrogation unit, Nikita had put the finishing touches to her special alternative plan. Now, having pushed him as far as she could with the mafia's traditional methods, she was ready to find out if her intuition had been correct.

Suddenly, she grabbed Detroit’s crotch. "If I want to, I could cut this off," she snapped, squeezing his penis so hard he winced, "and feed it to the fishes. I wouldn’t miss a wink of sleep. Neither would your wife—“ she paused for more dramatic effect, "if everything I heard this morning is to be believed.” Nikita’s mouth was so close to John’s face, he could smell her spearmint gum.

"What have you done to her, you fucking bitch? I swear, I’ll—”

"Only what she wanted us to do.” Nikita grinned.

"If you've hurt her, I'll, I’ll—"

Detroit’s angry outburst increased his bravado. He even imagined escaping his bonds, like a Hollywood hero, and taking care of the two heavies before giving this Nikita bitch a taste of her own medicine. The thought of placing the electrified crocodile clips on her bare nipples was particularly pleasing.

A derisive laugh mocked Detroit in the middle of his daydream. When he looked up, Nikita was next to the television, her broad smile irritating the hell out of him. "If you don't believe me, watch this, you stupid fucking cuckold," she sneered. "I'm sure you'll find this very... enlightening."

The mocking comment angered and puzzled Detroit. Straining helplessly against his bonds, he watched his torturer approach, absently fingering a necklace hanging between her impressive cleavage. In her other hand, she held the television remote control. Standing beside him, she grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to watch as she seductively licked her lips.

“Very enlightening, I’d say. I know she certainly surprised me."

The TV screen flickered into life as Detroit struggled to fathom Nikita's cryptic comment.

oØo

When Andrea Detroit checked her appearance in the hallway mirror, her spine tingled. She looked chic without being expensive, classy without looking snobbish, and sassy enough to turn the heads of those who, like her, appreciated the good things in life.

The new outfit was perfect for the fundraiser at the village hall — and it was even better for what she had planned with her latest lover. She did a last twirl — just for the fun of it — as the doorbell rang. A glance at her Rolex told her there was plenty of time before she needed to leave. Ignoring her husband’s advice about opening the door to strangers, she reached for the door handle.

When the door opened, Nikita Tavorik and Grégory Pavorich were all smiles and bonhomie. Looking at Mrs Andrea Detroit in the doorway, Nikita thought the photos they had didn’t really do her justice. Okay, her mouth reminded the Russian of a spoilt girl — but that could be ideal for what she had planned.

Nikita had done a thorough background check on John Detroit's wife, Andrea. Born and raised in London's East End, she’d been an aspiring model before marrying John, a young accountant she’d met at a charity dinner in Mayfair. Tall and lithe but lacking the X-factor for supermodel status, Andrea's career primarily consisted of catalogue work in fashion and lingerie. It didn't bring fame or fortune, but she made a decent living.

Apparently, she hadn’t been looking to fall in love and her relationship with Detroit almost didn't happen, especially as he didn't readily accept that she sometimes displayed herself in skimpy clothes for a living. However, they dated and eventually married. Andrea worked until she became pregnant and then she opted to devote herself to her husband and family. Now, having brought up two young teenage daughters, who attended one of England’s best boarding schools, Andrea had turned her hand, her money, and influence, to helping raise funds for local charities.

Having recently turned forty, Nikita noticed that Andrea's figure hadn't changed much from her days as a model.

"Can I help you?"

The sophisticated voice fit Nikita's idea of the typical English upper class. She wondered how many elocution lessons Andrea had needed.

"Good morning, Mrs Detroit. Please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Nikita Tavorik, a business associate of your husband.” She smiled and indicated the man at her side. “And this is Grégory Pavorich, my right-hand man, as you English say."

Andrea, shaking Nikita's outstretched hand, cast a glance at the man and her heart missed a beat. He looked older than herself, but Grégory was handsome — very handsome — and Andrea knew that if he were working for her, it wouldn't be long before she fell for his charms.

And then there was Nikita.

Andrea was attractive, but comparing herself to the young woman, she felt like one of the pantomime’s Ugly Sisters. Nikita was tall and graceful like herself but a wave of envy washed over Andrea as she gazed at emerald green eyes. They had a definite come hither quality and the small turned-up nose was simply exquisite. Luscious lips formed a wide, sensuous mouth, and Andrea was sure that this woman needed an extremely large bat to beat off admirers.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Tavorik.” She gave Grégory a curt nod. "How can I help?”

“We’re here for a meeting with your husband. Eleven o'clock." Nikita looked at her watch. "I know we’re a touch early, but traffic was lighter than we anticipated."

"Oh, I'm afraid my husband isn’t here," said Andrea. “Actually, he never mentioned anything about a meeting at home. In fact, he rarely conducts business at home. I’m quite surprised… are you sure you aren't mistaken?"

"I'm quite sure it was today and here," said Nikita confidently. Persuading people to do what she wanted was all in a day's work. “But, if you're uncomfortable with us being here, we'll wait in the car until Mr Detroit returns.”

“Oh no, you mustn’t do that,” Andrea said. “Come inside, you can wait here.”

As Nikita stepped into the hallway, she nodded politely and had trouble not laughing when Andrea returned a polite smile.

After leading her unexpected visitors into the sitting room, Andrea tried reaching her husband on his cellphone but had to leave a message. More than twenty minutes later, he hadn't called back and a flustered Andrea did her best to play the happy host. ”Would you like another cup of coffee?”

Nikita declined but Grégory enthusiastically accepted. When their fingers touched as she took his cup, butterflies suddenly fluttered in Andrea’s stomach. His presence was unsettling — precisely the reason Nikita had brought him along.

Whenever Andrea caught him looking at her, she saw naked lust in his eyes and adrenaline coursed through her body like a Formula One car racing around a circuit. Grégory’s smooth, fluent movements indicated there wasn't a gram of fat on his body and the sense of being a helpless animal trapped in the path of a dangerous predator, both excited and frightened her. She didn’t doubt that Grégory was a predator. Despite his impeccable grooming and good manners, Andrea felt he was mentally undressing her and shivers of anticipation ran down her spine.

Returning from the kitchen with Grégory's coffee, Andrea was desperate to make conversation. "What type of business are you in?"

"We're a diversified company," said Nikita. "Import, export, real estate, and pharmaceuticals to name but a few. We even own nightclubs and discos. Oh, nearly forgot… and a film studio."

Andrea raised her eyebrows and asked what type of films they produced.

“Everything… from children's cartoons to full-length feature films and…” Nikita stared into Andrea’s eyes, “adult entertainment."

Looking at Nikita and then Grégory, Andrea found that last part easy to believe.

"We also provide security services for a lot of our customers, both financially and materially."

"Oh, I see," said Andrea, although she didn’t.

"Your husband's company does our bookkeeping, but we can't agree on the figures for our latest business venture. That’s why we're meeting today to try to sort out the difference."

"Ah-ha," Andrea said, eventually understanding.

A sudden chirping had Andrea scrambling for her phone. "Finally, it's a message from John," she said with noticeable relief. But her lift in spirits was short-lived. Announcing her husband was running late, she politely asked if that created a problem.

Nikita shook her head. “Can’t be helped,” she said, smiling ingratiatingly.

oØo

Detroit watched his wife appear on the TV screen. It felt like someone had delivered a blow to his solar plexus. Dazed and confused, he stared at the screen while trying to regain control of his breathing. "This was not the way things should be," he gasped, looking at the wickedly smiling tormentor by his side.

When a wet cloth had been pressed against his face, Detroit recognised the smell of chloroform. Knowing he was being kidnapped and who was responsible, he’d accepted his fate even before he lost consciousness. Waking and finding himself tied to a chair with two heavies keeping guard, Detroit knew he’d gambled and lost. He also knew the deadly price he’d have to pay.

He obviously didn’t want to die but Detroit consoled himself that his family was safe. Okay, his daughters would miss him and Andrea would mourn his passing, but they wouldn't need to worry financially. He’d taken care of that.

Or so he thought.

Detroit had failed to take into account the unscrupulous and devious Nikita Tavorik. When she appeared on screen with Andrea, he realised the gravity of his mistake. Nikita was in her underwear, and as he focused on his wife, he saw she wasn't wearing much more. Although not wanting to believe what he was viewing, the unpalatable truth hit him like a blow to the stomach,

Except for blood-red lace panties, Andrea was naked from the waist down. A matching half-cup bra was clearly visible through the sheer fabric of a blouse which hung seductively off one shoulder. He’d never seen the bra before and when she moved, his wife’s generous breasts wobbled delightfully.

The real kick in his balls came when Andrea turned to face the camera. Her expression, the look in her eyes, was one he hadn't seen for a very long time. But, before he could dwell on that, Nikita said, "Ah, you recognise me, John. Do you like what I'm wearing?" A sinister laugh rang in his ears.

Detroit vehemently despised Nikita, but staring at the screen, he reluctantly conceded she had a kickass body. A great deal of it was on display, but it disturbed him to see it in his house.

"What have you done to my wife?" he snarled.

"Nothing she didn't want," Nikita said quietly in his ear. "Watch and learn."

The unknown person with the camera followed both women into the bedroom, filming every step. The captive accountant watched his wife climb onto the bed and get onto all fours like a slinky cougar. She turned and beckoned to the camera with a manicured finger. "Come on, Grégory, l want you to film me sucking that lovely big cock of yours."

The camera panned down, filming an impressive six-pack and an even more extraordinary erection sticking out of Grégory’s trousers. It briefly wavered in front of Andrea's animated face before she reached for the thick shaft. Bile rose in his throat; Detroit didn’t want to watch Andrea's cherry-red lips engulfing the stranger's manhood. He closed his eyes — but couldn’t shut out the raunchy sound of his wife sucking cock.

He tried to switch off, ignore the noises, and he almost succeeded when a hand touched his shoulder. The touch was surprisingly tender.

"Wow, John, look how much your wife’s enjoying herself. My God, she's such a dirty bitch."

Nikita's taunt angered him, and unable to stop himself, Detroit opened his eyes... and was instantly spellbound. Andrea wasn't going through the motions as she did with him — she was eagerly devouring the enormous cock as if her life depended on it. Added to this, he noticed Nikita spreading Andrea’s buttocks and burying her face into his wife's ass.

"She tasted divine," Nikita whispered. "Have you ever licked your wife's asshole?"

Detroit clenched his jaw, his mind reeling at the idea of eating ass. Watching his wife being unfaithful felt like a blunt dagger being twisted into his heart. But viewing Andrea and Nikita taking part in one of his darker fantasies, also aroused him. Perverse maybe, but he was getting hard when Nikita suddenly grasped his growing erection. She was a thoroughly nasty piece of work but, Detroit had to admit, Nikita had a face and figure to die for — fuck, he cursed under his breath, a pun straight from a Bond movie.

He tried to stop his dick from swelling… but failed miserably as the unmistakable rustle of clothes reached his ears. Nikita, wearing the sexy lingerie he'd seen on the television, stood in front of him. The white lace and gossamer were so sheer, her nipples were even more prominent than they’d appeared on the TV. That was not all: Detroit could see Nikita’s tidy dark bush and the juicy cleft beneath. Gazing at her stockings and suspenders, his blood continued rushing south.

Hands on hips, Nikita licked her lips. "I like a man who can perform while in mortal danger," she purred, running her hands up and down her lithe body. After pressing her palms against her sex, she lifted one hand to her bosom. "Gets me so hot," she sighed, slipping the other hand inside her panties. Detroit watched her fingers moving within the sheer fabric and his swollen manhood twitched.

“Maybe,” said Nikita, “you want me to suck your cock like your wife does. Hmmm?"

oØo

Andrea hadn't taken part in anything this decadent for years and didn't know what she was enjoying the most: a woman going down on her, or playing with a big fat cock.

Nikita certainly knew how to eat pussy. At first, when her ass cheeks were pulled apart to expose her succulent sex, Andrea couldn't believe what was happening. But, as soon as Nikita's tongue split her pussy lips, she not only accepted the situation but actively encouraged what was happening.

Nikita, enjoying her latest victim's reaction, explored Andrea's orifices with her tongue and fingers. At one point, she had fingers knuckle deep in both holes, and no one was more surprised by the older woman's reaction than Nikita. Instead of being outraged at the young enforcer's behaviour, the so-called decent, socially conscious wife of John Detroit, emitted a lustful guttural groan while pushing hard against the intruding digits.

"Hmm, you like it in the ass, don't you?" giggled Nikita, coming up for air.

Andrea stopped sucking Grégory's cock and looked over her shoulder. Her voice was low and sultry. "You have no idea, Nikita… don't stop.”

She immediately popped the saliva-covered erection back between her lips for a quick slurp around the head. Then, looking directly into the camera, she ordered Grégory to fuck her mouth. Andrea delighted in the long, thick dick sliding smoothly between her lips while she cupped a pair of balls that wouldn't have been out of place at the Wimbledon tennis championships. Andrea hadn't seen anything like them since... well, there had been one memorable photoshoot.

She’d been booked for a picture story feature that had been all the rage in teenage girls' magazines, for a while. The young male model was rather handsome and everything went well on the first morning. After lunch, which included a well-stocked drinks table, the photographer suggested taking pictures of a more adult nature. Being totally relaxed, they'd agreed and Andrea was snapped in some significantly compromising positions. The image quality wasn’t good enough for publication but Andrea never forgot the incident — or the male model's equipment.

Just like Grégory, the young model had been well endowed and Andrea had never experienced anything that big. It frightened her a little and she hadn't enjoyed it as much as she might. Now, older and wiser, she knew what she liked and she’d had more than her fair share of such specimens. She also knew what turned men on.

Watching so-called ladies acting like cheap trailer-trash was guaranteed to get them hard. And the way this older man, Grégory was shagging her mouth, it was apparent he liked her slutty behaviour.

"You're so much bigger than my husband, Grégory. I can't get enough of this," grinned Andrea, then tried swallowing one of his balls while masturbating his saliva-soaked shaft.

oØo

"Oh I don't think you're that small, darling.” Nikita stroked Detroit's manhood. "In fact, from what I'm feeling, you have a perfectly 'adequate' cock."

Although Nikita hadn't lied, adequate felt like a kick in the stomach to Detroit. Observing the increasing bulge in the accountant's trousers, Nikita was sure it must feel uncomfortable, but it was also obvious he couldn't compare to Grégory's monster. That was like comparing a chisel to a jackhammer. Both create a hole in a brick wall, but the powerful jackhammer does it much easier.

In fact, Nikita had chosen Grégory to accompany her to the Detroit house because he had the right tool for the job and knew how to use it. The older man was a relic of her country's bad old days and the best teachers in the KGB had trained him to seduce men and women. Such skills helped gain information in the Cold War before the Soviet Union fell apart. Now, his expertise was useful to the Russian mafia.

Nikita hadn't planned to fuck her latest target, but possessing the gift of life and death over someone was a powerful aphrodisiac. Feeling the hardness beneath her fingers, the beautiful enforcer freed Detroit of his trousers and boxers and watched his liberated manhood spring forward. As her lips enveloped his swollen helmet, Detroit realised his nightmare had taken a fresh turn.

His wife had acted like a street whore — and a woman he hated was proving to be quite a blowjob queen. ‘Should I not die today, I won’t forget this,’ he thought, wincing as Nikita purposely grazed her teeth over his sensitive dome.

"Hmm, contrary to what your wife says, John, I like your prick. And, from the looks of things—“ she smirked, “you really like the attention I'm giving it."

"I'm not going to tell you anything, Nikita,” he growled, his hatred momentarily surfacing, “no matter what you do to me.”

"We'll see," was all he heard before Nikita's mouth slid down his shaft. Much to his amazement, the young woman didn't stop swallowing his cock until her nose was nestled in his wiry pubic hair. "I can be very persuasive," she purred moments later before returning to the business in hand and mouth.

Closing his eyes again, Detroit tried to ignore the television just a few feet away and concentrate on one of the best blowjobs he'd ever had. But he couldn't shut out everything, and after hearing Andrea say something he would have thought impossible only a few hours earlier, he opened his eyes.

oØo

"Grégory darling, I can’t stand it much longer. I must have you inside me.”

Andrea looked up imploringly at the man who had just thoroughly and so gloriously fucked her mouth. Reluctantly, she released her grasp on his rigid tool and asked, "Do you want to take me from behind or on top?"

Grégory growled, "I'll take you from behind when I fuck your tight upper-class ass. But now, get on your back, slut. I want to watch your face when I shove my cock into your juicy cunt.”

"Are you really going to stick that thing up my bum?" Andrea asked, her lust and anticipation so obvious. “I’ve never had one that big up there before," she continued, lying on her back and spreading her legs. Stroking her clit, she added, ”Can't wait."

"You talk too much, Mrs Detroit," said Nikita, now straddling Andrea's chest. With her dripping sex hovering inches above her host's excited face, Nikita pulled her knickers to one side. "Time to put your mouth to better use," she said and sat, making further conversation virtually impossible.

When Grégory inserted his mighty weapon into her silken sheath, Andrea's erotic cries might have woken the dead —or at least alerted the neighbours — but, muffled by a mouthful of juicy Russian pussy, she disturbed no one.

oØo

"Your wife is surprisingly good when it comes to eating pussy, John," said Nikita, licking his engorged member. "Enthusiasm and curiosity can help but there's no substitute for skill and experience.”

The conversational tone didn’t lessen the sting in her words and Nikita saw Detroit's belief in his wife's decency was being eroded. Nikita was proud of herself and decided to twist the knife a little more.

"The way she made me cum, it's obvious she's had years of practice. Not to mention the way she handled Grégory's cock. He's much too big for me; I prefer my cocks a little smaller, like yours. But Andrea... wow, she's definitely a keeper. I saw her take that gigantic prick all the way in every hole. Oops, spoiler alert."

Nikita, eyes wide open, theatrically put a hand to her mouth.

"I'm sorry, John, I didn't mean to ruin your viewing pleasure, but I can't help admiring the way nothing seemed to faze your wife. I mean, she didn't cry out once... at least, not in pain like I would have. Even when he was thoroughly reaming her arse, she didn’t complain.”

Nikita saw a pained expression on Detroit's face. "But I'm not telling you anything you don't know already, am I?" She watched his eyes widen and knew she'd touched a nerve. “Oh, sorry John.” She shook her head. “Didn’t you have any idea what your wife is like?" Cruel laughter filled the room. "Ha, I bet she's never let you even do her there. Jesus, what a fool I am."

Detroit knew Nikita was mocking him but she’d touched a raw nerve. Their sex life had never been wild and abandoned, but John had always enjoyed making love to his wife and presumed Andrea felt the same. Even though it happened only sporadically nowadays, he put that down to their busy lives.

It never occurred to him that Andrea was getting what she craved elsewhere. For all those years, had he so badly misunderstood her needs and desires? So, what did she want? Was this the real Andrea on the TV? He snorted. Of course it was. That was their bedroom and his wife had happily spread her legs for another man. And what of Nikita's other insinuations? If they were to be believed, this wasn't the first time Andrea had sought partners to fulfil her wanton desires.

Not wanting to contemplate the whole truth, Detroit clenched his hands into tight fists and grimaced. Should he keep up his determined resistance if it all meant nothing to the people he cared about? He didn't have much time to reflect because Nikita unexpectedly kissed him. It was softly done, like a true lover, and in his confused state he responded.

While they embraced, Nikita straddled her victim, reaching between them for his erection. Almost before he realised what was happening, Nikita's hot wetness engulfed him and he heard a small moan. Detroit wondered how this beautiful but evil piece of work could commit an act so intimate. It pained him that he was unable to help himself, especially with the two heavies silently watching.

Did Nikita not care? Did she get her thrills acting so outrageously? Or was this part of his punishment?

As the young woman bounced on his erection, he caught a glimpse of the television screen over her shoulder and a shiver ran down his spine. Grégory’s cock was buried deep inside Nikita while his wife eagerly used her tongue.

oØo

It had been years since another woman had sat on Andrea’s face, but old habits die hard. Using tongue, teeth, and lips, she'd succeeded in making Nikita cum and having tasted the delicious nectar, she now wanted to watch Grégory's huge cock penetrate the younger woman's juicy slit.

Nikita's instructions to Grégory on the way to the house had been clear: nothing would be off-limits when it came to Andrea. Whatever she wanted, she got. Grégory had initially assumed Andrea was another bored housewife, probably drifting from one affair to the other in search of the ultimate orgasm. By the time he first thrust his cock inside her, he knew that wasn't the truth.

He knew she didn't just enjoy sex — she craved it. Every aspect of it. And could never get enough of it. She certainly needed more than a perfunctory weekly fuck with her husband. Nikita’s claims that Andrea sought out other men and women to provide the orgasms she wanted, rang true.

At first, Grégory wondered if he'd enjoy his fuck at all. Andrea's pussy easily swallowed his enormous erection, offering no resistance and certainly not much in the way of friction. But he needn't have worried; Andrea had simply toyed with him. After a few lazy thrusts, her silken tunnel slowly tightened around his girth. Then, with her pussy milking him, he enjoyed pounding her with renewed vigour.

He’d wanted to see her face, but that was impossible — it was buried between Nikita's thighs. Judging by the sounds of his superior's moans, this so-called target certainly knew how to please women. Then Nikita changed position. From riding Andrea's face, she got on hands and knees and crawled backwards along Mrs Detroit's body until Grégory put a hand between his boss's legs and slipped two fingers into her dripping slit.

"I want to see him enter you," Andrea exclaimed, raining kisses on Nikita's face before scrabbling from beneath the dark-haired beauty. Once free, she leaned over the younger woman, pulled the saturated sliver of fabric at Nikita's crotch even further aside, and prised apart her buttocks. Grinning, Andrea watched in awe as Grégory's thick dome pushed against Nikita's pink swollen pussy lips before watching it disappear from sight.

"Doesn't that feel so fucking good, Nikita?" Andrea asked, slipping a hand beneath the young woman to caress her clit. A feline growl was the answer.

"Fuck her, Grégory, fuck her hard.”

Andrea, pleased that he obeyed her command, knelt in front of the young woman, feeling Nikita’s warm breath wafting over her buttocks. Pulling her cheeks apart, she exposed her crinkly starfish to the younger woman. "And you, my dear, you can get my arse ready for that big boy,” and pushed her rear onto Nikita's mouth.

oØo

"Why are you doing this to me?" Detroit asked. "Why don't you just get on with it and kill me?"

Nikita enjoyed the feel of Detroit’s manhood inside her, far more than she had with Grégory's huge cock. She bit her bottom lip and took her time answering.

"One, because I can, John," she gasped. "And two, because I know you hate this. You despise me, but your body is betraying your feelings. I can't tell you how good your cock feels right now, and not just because of its size. You have the information I need and I'll do anything to get it. And, as you're in no position to deny me, I might as well have a good fuck while I'm at it, don't you think?”

"Didn't the old guy do that for you?" Detroit sneered, thinking he'd pay the price for his insolence. Nikita kissed him, biting his lip as punishment. Bound to the chair, he could do nothing to stop her.

"There's no need to be jealous, John,” she said, barely above a whisper. “It's not what one's got, it's how one uses it — although Grégory is a very skilled lover, at least according to your wife. Personally, I like being the dominant one during sex. That's why this is perfect for me. You're tied up, I'm horny, and thanks to the film we made this morning, your cock has responded exactly as I’d hoped. Do you like watching Grégory fuck your wife? Does it excite you to see her spread her legs for another man?"

Nikita studied the anguish in Detroit’s eyes. "Don't worry, you’re not the first guy to get hard watching his wife fuck another man. It's more popular than you'd imagine, especially in your social scene.” She eased off John's erection and moved behind him. Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear while reaching for his rampant cock. "When your hot spunk is dripping down my hand, your shame will be complete… and I'll own you."

Silently raging at Nikita, his unfaithful wife, and his treacherous cock, Detroit wondered what she meant by her last statement. It didn't take long to find out.

oØo

Nikita Tavorik slumped forward on the bed, leaving Grégory's dick hovering just above her buttocks. In an instant, the Englishwoman was leaning over her prone body. While she felt deft fingers seeking her pussy, she heard Andrea greedily sucking on Grégory's manhood. Looking over her shoulder to watch the older woman, Nikita couldn't suppress her mixed feelings about that huge penis. While it reached places not many others could, she thought getting fucked by it was more an exercise in ability than pleasure. Although she was young, Nikita was enormously proud of what she'd so far achieved in life. Being able to take a massive dick like Grégory's without complaining, boosted her sexual self-esteem but didn't necessarily mean she enjoyed the experience. Unlike Andrea, who’d had no trouble at all and was at this very moment deep-throating the large cock, Nikita hadn't been able to relax when Grégory pounded her cunt. Still, with her sights on a more important goal, she’d grinned and bared the ordeal. Now she turned over to watch her subordinate complete the last phase of this morning's work.

Resting on an elbow, Nikita obscenely spread her legs, providing Andrea with a close-up view of her battered pussy, then slid a well-manicured hand over her belly before gently caressing her clit. And she watched Grégory grasp Andrea's hair in a clenched fist, masterfully drag his throbbing manhood from the woman's slutty mouth, and slap her face with the meaty shaft.

"It's time to get on your hands and knees and prepare yourself for a good ass-fucking.” His wolfish grin gave away how much he'd been waiting for this — as did Andrea's sparkling eyes.

"Yesss," she hissed, twisting into position without him releasing her hair. Nikita was surprised when Grégory relaxed his hold, enabling Andrea to dip her head towards Nikita's sex. She felt warm breath on her splayed pussy lips.

"Just imagine what your husband would say if he could see his high society wife eating pussy while having her arse fucked." The enforcer grabbed Andrea's hair and pulled her face to her dripping pussy. "I bet he'd have a fit. Now make me cum again."

No sooner had Andrea lapped between Nikita's pussy lips, earning a soft moan from the young woman, than she felt Grégory part her buttocks and his swollen helmet nudging against her anus. Not wanting to interrupt her oral administrations on Nikita's delicious sex, she wiggled her bum and pushed back against the fleshy spear.

One hand on the small of Andrea's back, Grégory used the other to guide his cock and feed it into the Englishwoman's tight back passage. The moment Andrea relinquished resistance, Nikita noticed the older woman's tongue stopped moving. From between her thighs, Nikita heard a soft whimper and a low moan of contentment. Looking up at Grégory, Nikita saw his eyes were closed as he drove his cock deeper into Andrea. Knowing all this was important to the bigger picture, Nikita was turned on and urged Andrea to resume her oral exploits.

Grégory opened his eyes when his pelvis bumped against Andrea's peachy rump and he grabbed her hips. After briefly grinding against the fleshy globes, he began fucking. With each long, slow stroke, he heard Andrea's stifled groans and watched her tight hole grip his smooth shaft. Grégory was determined to make the most of this unexpected opportunity by taking Andrea to the edge and beyond before he came.

Yet, the sight before the eyes of this professional stud, made his inevitable orgasm more imminent than he would have desired. And, judging by all the moans and whimpers, Andrea wasn't the only one enjoying herself.

He looked down at his young superior.

Before today, Grégory hadn't had much to do with her. Nikita was a rising star in the Russian mafia and when he received her phone call requesting his 'special skills,’ he readily agreed. He reasoned that it wouldn't hurt his reputation. Now, looking at Nikita fingering herself with Andrea's head between her thighs, it was obvious that her definition of "working together" differed drastically from his own.

His superiors weren't interested in the details of how he worked, only the results. Accustomed to working alone, Grégory had been surprised when Nikita said she would be joining him on this mission. After explaining the reason for the assignment, she’d further startled Grégory by saying she was going to take part. He’d asked if she realised what she was getting into and Nikita had answered with a wolfish grin.

"Don't you worry about me, Grégory," she said. I can handle myself. Just make sure Andrea and I are not disappointed."

Looking at Nikita's tight body, Grégory's cock had thickened. And Nikita hadn't backed down. From the moment Andrea made it apparent she wanted Grégory to do more than just flirt with her, Nikita had devoted herself to the sexually charged situation.

"Oh God, I'm gonna cum again," Nikita cried, tossing her head back as Andrea stroked two fingers between her pussy lips while sucking hard on the younger woman's clit. " Yes, yes, don't stop…”

oØo

"Don't you just love watching people having sex, John?” Nikita whispered, leisurely tugging his cock.

Hearing the on-screen Nikita cry out while thrusting her pussy into his wife's face, Detroit was somewhat in agreement. He certainly hadn't anticipated anything like this happening when the Russian appeared in the doorway of the torture chamber but the last twenty minutes had been a real eye-opener.

The arousal he felt from Nikita touching him was tempered by the guilt of betraying Andrea. Then again, that was assuaged by his humiliation over Andrea's adulterous behaviour. Discovering that his wife wasn't as impeccable and upstanding as she’d led him to believe, was a kick in the guts. And, the more he considered what he'd gone through to secure his family's financial future — the long hours, the risks, and the danger to himself — his humiliation escalated into anger.

Suddenly, from the TV, he heard Andrea moaning loudly while mouthing raw sexual expletives. (Another orgasm.) Watching her climax was quite a revelation, especially when she ground her abdomen against Grégory’s loins, his huge erection buried in her arse.

Remembering Nikita's words about what they'd done to Andrea, Detroit realised the only person who hadn't lied to him was the one person he'd expected to lie. It was little comfort considering what she'd put him through today — though being fucked was definitely preferable to the earlier electric shock treatment.

"Oooh, this is the best part," Nikita suddenly giggled.

Detroit looked down at her delicate hand. She was stroking him faster and it was having the desired effect: he felt his climax rising and gritted his teeth, determined not cum. “No, no,” he muttered, trying (not) to think about sex and the increasing pleasure being supplied by the beautiful Russian’s hand.

Nikita then grabbed his hair with her free hand and pointed his head in the direction of the television. "Watch it, John," she ordered.

Nikita had broken his will. In his fading state of denial, he saw both women looking up at the cock being masturbated above their heads. Their expressions glowed with desperate cravings. But all Detroit cared about was not giving Nikita the satisfaction of making him cum. He closed his eyes — but it was a losing battle.

"I'm cumming."

Detroit’s eyes shot open. His climax was so close that he’d automatically shouted his warning — but no, he was wrong. It was Grégory on the TV alerting the ladies. Detroit snorted. Ladies? Sex-crazed sluts was a more appropriate description, he thought, watching them open their mouths expectantly. The swollen cock pointed first towards Andrea, who told the cameraman, “Give me all your lovely spunk," before opening her mouth wider. No sooner had his wife uttered those damn words than a massive rope of thick, white cream splattered onto her face. Another salvo followed before the pulsating penis spurted its next load onto Nikita's animated face.

Caught up in the moment, Detroit watched the women sticking out their tongues to capture more of Grégory's ejaculation. As more cum landed on Nikita's beautifully made-up lips, Detroit climaxed. His first eruption flew far and wide, landing on the bloodstained floor, but anticipating his second release, Nikita tightly gripped his throbbing cock.

"Listen to me, John, and listen carefully,” she hissed, her grip preventing his release. “You're mine now. Mine to do what I want, and you won't refuse me. Understand?"

Face contorted in pain, he nodded his head. He’d agree to anything that would help free the build-up of pressure in his cock. Nikita tightened her grip.

"John, I have videos of you and your wife engaged in sordid sexual activities. If you disappoint me, I will release them to your British gutter press and we know what will happen then. So, the next time you think about stealing from us, imagine how your daughters will feel seeing their impeccable mummy taking it up the arse from a massive-cocked stranger while daddy not only watches but masturbates too."

Detroit was poised to object to her false accusations, but Nikita placed a finger on his lips. "With our technology, there's nothing we can't do with these videos. No one will know or care if they’re real or doctored. What they show is all that matters."

He knew that was true. He was beaten — but he didn't care. At least he would live. And, while the young enforcer had been talking, she’d also slackened her strangling grip on his erection, allowing a slow release of his built-up sperm. Detroit exhaled in relief as he looked down at the cream dribbling over her delicate fingers.

Nikita knew she’d won, but she was experienced enough to soften the blow. Lifting her cream-covered hand to her mouth, she licked her fingers. "Hmm, delicious. I wanted to let you cum inside me but I couldn’t. Not this time. I’m sure you understand that I had to break you, John.”

She bent to rasp her tongue over his seeping cock, then looked into his eyes and smiled.

“When I come back next week, there’s two things I need from you. First, make sure you’ve returned our money. Remember the videos, John, and be grateful you’re still alive. Understand?”

Nikita smiled as Detroit nodded. “Good. Now the second point… make sure your big balls are full next week. I intend to make up for what I've missed today.”