Mistress Zena, Spy Ball Breaker

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It is an indisputable fact that relations between the US President, Dwight D. Eisenhower, and Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev deteriorated dramatically in May 1960. The so called Cold War was at its highest at this time due to the capture of Francis Gary Powers. The American pilot had been shot down in his CIA U2 spy plane in Soviet airspace and the consequences were grave for the West. As he was questioned throughout May and June frantic American and British secret agents attempted to seek and locate the captured spy.

x

Khrushev had reached boiling point with the West by now and assigned his favourite mistress and special interrogator to exact confessions and deter foreign interference of any and all subsequent enemy spies apprehended. It was the misfortune of MI6 agent 002 to be the initial subject for Zena. A member of the elite double O Section in the British Secret Service, Adrian Richardson was a field agent who held a licence to kill if needed in order to complete any mission. Instructed to investigate the U2 incident Richardson has been picked up in East Berlin, capital city of the German Democratic Republic, by members of the Stasi. After two days of questioning by the State Security Service where the brave spy had tried to limit the information he had, Richardson was bundled into a car in the dead of night to a secret location. When he had gathered his wits he was quite taken aback by the upcoming events.

x

Despite her infamous notoriety in some Russian circles for being a sadistic and ruthless bitch Zena was for the most part extraordinarily sensual. Born in Gorky in the year of 1930 she had shiny brown hair and an athletic body. With her vital statistics of 36-27-37 she reached a tall five feet and nine inches tall. She cut an intimidating figure to start with, and was a woman you would not want to mess. One look into her dark brown eyes assured men that she meant business, whether it be an intimate moment or a callous torment.

“Leave us.”

002 looked up from his chair. A chair that had been his home for the last ten hours. He had been incarcerated in a dark cell of about ten by eight and had been stripped naked and tied with rope. Mistress Zena made a grand entrance that saw the British spy gawp in surprise.

“Good day, 002.”

She had deigned to dress up for the first session of questioning and the ravishing brunette looked a towering figure of woman hood as she introduced herself to 002. His bemused look amused Mistress Zena as she let him drink in her outfit. Her upper body had been squeezed into a highly polished black corset in leather with bone support panels in the front. At her back she had been severely laced in so that her D cup boobs were thrust out large. The taut leather cinched in her already slim waist and the feeling of imprisonment in the agonisingly tight corset merely made her sadistic juices stir nicely. Richardson gazed at her midnight black stockings, so sheer that the healthy hue of her lengthy pins shone through. Her exposed sex sat framed in her black garter straps, a picture of tangled and tight curls of luscious pubic hair. On her feet were a pair of black patent leather pumps with the highest heels Richardson had ever laid eyes on.

“What did you call me?”

Zena walked around the chair, her hips undulating and her breasts jiggling on her ribcage. The young thirty year old secret agent with the mop of sandy hair could smell her natural female scent and his bared manhood moved slightly in his lap.

“You are special agent number zero, zero two of the decadent British Secret Service, here on illegal activities intended to undermine the glorious Tipobet Soviet Union and it’s proud citizens.”

She spoke with a Russian accent but in remarkably good English.

“Wrong, lady. I’m David Jones of Universal Exports. In Berlin on business. Check my passport and papers if you don’t believe me.”

His answer warranted a slap across his jaw with the hard back of her hand. A trickle of blood leaked from his lower lip as he reeled into the back of the chair.

“You are a spy, a spy with a licence to kill. Would you kill me?”

“You’re crazy. I never killed anybody.”

“What do you know of American movements in Eastern Europe? Are they planning a pre-emptive strike against us?”

“My name is Adrian Richardson. I am British in East Berlin on business for my company ‘Universal Exports’ and I do not know any Americans.”

He reeled again from a back hander and he spat blood on his hairy chest.

“Liar! Are you here to rescue the American, Powers?”

“Powers? Never head of him. I am a British citizen and demand my release this instant.”

“British!” SPAWH!

Zena spat dramatically on the floor.

“British Imperialist scum! You think you rule the world? The Soviet Union and Communism will triumph!”

“I can see that you are clearly insane. Are you some kind of pervert? Walking around in your underwear. And why am I naked?”

“You will find out in due course, 002. Guards! Bring him to the red room. I can see that I shall have to persuade Mister Richardson to talk.”

As the naked spy was half walked, half dragged from the tiny cell he reflected on the way Zena had made the word ‘persuade’ sound ominous.

x

Adrian had been brought to an obvious looking torture chamber. The British agent was all too aware of existing KGB rooms such as this where the sadistic Communists inflicted pain and punishment on prisoners. Back in London he had seen pictures of the similar chamber in Latvia where the KGB had its headquarters. He was led through the old wood door that looked to be about four inches thick. Inside the walls had peeling and chipping red paint and the two single beds were of metal. The air was cold and damp and there was a distinct echo in the dilapidated surroundings. A indistinct smell reminded him of leather and disinfectant.

“In a perverse way I’m glad you are being stubborn. This is what I live for. I’ve always been, how do you say, a bitch. And now you are going to find out why.”

Adrian looked up from his position which was now face down on the cold floor with a series of ropes tied around his person. The tightest length was around his neck and this was connected by a thick section that went down his upper back where it then wound around his chest. His arms were pinned to his sides at the biceps and wrists and then this length waa tight around him just below the buttocks and his scrotum at the front. His knees were together as were his ankles and in effect he was completely helpless.

“Why are you in Berlin?”

The woman moved above his head but out of his view.

“Don’t know.”

“You are here to please me. Look at you, on the floor like a worm. Do you feel like a worm?”

Richardson remained cautious and played along. On no account should he divulge information that might connect him to SIS.

“Yes, I do.”

“When you answer me you may refer to me as mistress. Is that clear?”

“Yes, mistress.”

‘So. Now what do worms do? Why they squirm of course.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“Squirm for me, little worm.”

“Mistress?”

“Do you wish for me to use my persuader?”

Zena Tipobet Giriş wielded a riding crop in her right hand and began to run the leather loop over the clenched butt of Adrian. She paused with the crop rested on his tight buns and then in a split second she raised her arm and in a sharp motion brought it down in him with a loud crack. Adrian jumped in his binds and arched his back. The ropes bit into his flesh and it swelled at the hard knots. Zena cracked his ass twice more as she stood over his prone body and spoke in a firm voice.

“Why are you here?”

“To…to please you, mistress.”

“Very good, little worm.”

He heard her heels click-clack in the stone floor as she stepped around to his front. She bent at the knees and hovered on her haunches as she gently ran the crop over his shoulders and down his spine. He felt her hot breath against him as she made tap, tap, tapping on his bared flesh and then she stood up. Returning to his backside her face changed into a scowl and cracked the tip again and again on his buttocks, turning the white flesh a dark pink.

“Now squirm!”

Her words were punctuated by hard and fast thumps and the heat and sweat made the British spy whimper in acute discomfort. He managed to twitch his aching frame in an obscene parody of a wriggling worm.

“Answer me, you squirming insect. What…do…you…know…of…Powers?”

“Ugh! I don’t know anything…I’m…”

“Wrong!”

More staccato strikes filled his ears like pistol shots as they rained down on his cheeks in rapid succession. So fast were they that the blows seemed to overlap with earlier ones. He bravely bore the brunt of the punishing assault and closed his eyes tight shut. When it finally stopped his body went limp. Still tightly bound in the stiff ropes he was helpless as Zena rolled him onto his back with her right heel.

“Are you getting aroused, 002?”

Adrian was alarmed to discover that his manhood had indeed become semi hard and Zena trailed the leather crop along his inner left thigh, just circling his pronounced groin. He got his first proper look at the sixteen inch black flek crop made of woven nylon. The handle looked to be wrapped in black leather and the big braided cap had a dimpled button. The keeper also looked to be of leather and was about two inches wide.

“Look at this.”

Zena rubbed her bush that peeped out from between her garter straps and showed Richardson her moist fingers.

“I SO love my work.”

The aggressive thrashing resumed and Richardson received stinging slaps to his upper thighs. In a bittersweet twist he found the attention to be thrilling and he stifled a moan of pleasure. He was unable, alas, to keep mum for much longer when the half naked dominatrix struck his inner thigh in tiny strikes that caused him to reach full erection. The caress of the leather sent a jolt through his loins as the keeper was circled in a lazy spiral motion around his balls and perineum.

“Does that feel good, little worm?”

“Mmm.”

He tried his very best to ignore the question as he writhed on his back in the dust and tried to focus on the unusual red ceiling. I will not yield, I will not yield. The crop struck the meat of his stiff cock and he let out a hearty cry despite his best efforts to remain silent. She had reduced the number of smacks but had increased the strength of the blows. The next crack met his glans which had not emerged from his foreskin and his toes curled. Blood engorged his organ as the crop rebounded on it with agonisingly measured swats and his entire body tensed as if he had been electrocuted.

“Oh, Tipobet Güncel Giriş oh, ho, ho, ho!”

Adrian yelled as Zena dug the spike of her high heeled shoe into his midriff and whipped at his rigid cock three more times. He clenched his teeth and drew his lips over his them and cursed. He gained control of his breathing after a little difficulty and felt a terrible ache in his testicles.

“Fucking whore!”

The crop had left tiny indentations in his bright red shaft as he felt tears run down his cheeks.

“Careful you don’t swallow that tongue of yours 002, you might poison yourself.”

Adrian’s mind raced as he saw her arm go back up high behind her head and bring the crop down to strike each of his nipples. Searing pain brought forth a sheen of sweat all over his naked body and his nipples felt as if they had been stung by wasps. Four more bites met his left followed by four on the right. His muscles tensed but the ropes held him painfully in position. This was when mistress Zena decided to sit on his face.

“Now, stick out that tongue little worm and wiggle it inside my dripping cunt. Do it!”

Zena went onto all fours with the upper section of her sheer stockings wrapped about his face. Her belly laid flat on his chest and the bone panels in front of her tight corset rubbed on his tender and sore nipples She supported herself with outstretched hands on either side of his thighs. But it was only her Mons that Richardson focused on as the sadistic vixen lowered herself onto his mouth.

“This is good for you, da? You should thank me for allowing you anywhere near my cunt, capitalist scum!”

Zena began to ride on his mouth as she placed her hands on his knees. His face was trapped in her sex as her hips thrust down harder, grinding and gyrating with glee.

“Da! Good. Twirl that tongue around you lucky man. Soviet cunt is the best in the world.”

As he licked her drips of her juices coated his chin and he felt his cock stiffen and rest on his belly. Then she shuffled forwards and he lost contact with her muff. He had a birds eye view of her moist slit as she squatted just above his head.

“You have had your fill of my glorious sex. Now, lick my anus.”

Her weight settled on him once more as she rearranged her position so as to grind her ass on his mouth. Richardson stuck his tongue out, albeit reluctantly and began to lap away. Now Zena did not hide her pleasure and moaned as she welcomed his tongue inside her puckered anus. She squeezed with her anal muscles as she was rimmed and licked and she stroked his boner with a tight fist.

“Faster!”

He obliged and he found that his nose rubbed on her wet pussy. Aware of his proud cock being slowly wanked he prayed not to cum for fear of losing precious will power.

“Oh!”

He cried out despite himself as Zena peeled back his foreskin and passed his crown into her mouth. In a desperate situation Adrian resisted all natural temptation to thrust up with his hips and focused on probing further into the wanton woman’s asshole.

“Ahh! Oh!”

Again Zena sat up and left her nether regions just out of reach of Richardson’s face. His cock twitched as he lost physical contact with her wet lips and he stiffened in trepidation. He was forced to accept the fact that the obscene woman was an expert in fellatio. The more of his cock she devoured the more pleasure she gave him. He felt that special tingling that begins in the scrotum and travels up the shaft and he grunted as he ejaculated into her mouth.

“I did not give permission for you to climax! Imbecile!”

After all he had endured during his nightmarish ordeal and in a blessed relief the tormented spy blacked out and slumped in his binds.

“Gavno!”

Zena walked around in a circle with a stern look on her face.

“This is not over, 002. We shall resume our little play soon.”

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