The Spy Who Never Came

Richard’s classic story about the adventures of straight CIA spy James Vaughan and his Russian counterparts with lots of reversals, gay bondage, tickling, cum control, orgasm denial, spanking, foot worship and more! This one is definitely worth checking out!
9 votes, average: 4.22 out of 59 votes, average: 4.22 out of 59 votes, average: 4.22 out of 59 votes, average: 4.22 out of 59 votes, average: 4.22 out of 5 (9 votes, average: 4.22 out of 5)
ZZZ

The Spy Who Never Came
by Richard

 

James Vaughan, U.S. Embassy attaché and CIA agent, was currently attached to the U.S. Embassy in Moscow. His high-ranking embassy duties were more or less a cover for his covert spying and information gathering on behalf of the U.S. government. James was a highly-compensated, prestigious member of the Embassy who was afforded every comfort and pleasure to keep him happy. The 32-year-old, 6′ 4″, darkly handsome James also had the reputation of being a total “ladies’ man” using his Ivy League education, upper class background and natural suave sophistication to full advantage. James went from Embassy party to Embassy party immaculately dressed in full tuxedo, always leaving with the most attractive woman there (or women, nothing like a three-way plus!), whether they were married or not. Plus he had a reputation for easily acquiring top secret information for the U.S., often by seducing high-placed women from all over the world with knowledge of troop movements and the like. He also was known for using other, more brutal weapons to obtain information if the need arose. What was not common knowledge was that James had been known to act as a “double agent” for foreign countries, leaking top-secret information about U.S. interests if the price was right. James was not a patriot; he was a pragmatist, and one who was used to the good life at other people’s expense. James wouldn’t be caught dead with his high-class ass in some backwater country fighting in combat like a grunt soldier, no way, he preferred the power trip of obtaining information and using it to his own personal advantage for financial and prestige gain.

His more ruthless side would have to rise to the occasion tonight since James needed information on Serbian troop movements in order to score a tremendous bonus. Attending the U.S. Embassy party tonight was none other than General Alexei Karishnikov of the Russian Army, a person known to have close contacts with the Russian allies, the Serbs, in the Kosovo War. James needed classified Serb troop information to score this bonus and he intended to get it. The 30-year-old, 6′ 3″ Alexei was currently a happy camper in his spiffy Russian full dress uniform at the Embassy party, munching on the caviar and sipping vintage champagne as he looked down the women’s cleavage with lascivious admiration, somewhat red in the face from the champagne and his arousal by the beautiful Embassy women.

An elegantly tuxedoed James diverted the buzz-cut blond Alexei from the party, James pretending he might have some information to share regarding U.S. troop movements. With the aid of two Embassy Guards, James smoothly escorted the unsuspecting General to a secluded, soundproofed area of the Embassy, the General’s highly polished black knee-boots clicking on the marble floor. James invited the general to remove his dress uniform jacket and relax as James smoothly removed his own tuxedo jacket. After some small talk was exchanged, James gave a signal whereupon the two guards suddenly seized General Karishnikov at gunpoint and pushed him against a wood-paneled wall which contained firmly-anchored brackets disguised as elegant wall sconces. Alexei was handcuffed to the brackets leaving his wide-spread wrists hanging from the sconces.

James, ominously placing black leather gloves on his elegant, sun-tanned hands, approached the sputtering, outraged Russian General. As he neared the cursing, threatening General a funky “whish” sound announced the appearance of James’ sharp switchblade knife as James thrust the knife at the panting young Russian’s dress uniform-shirted chest and made a jabbing, stabbing motion which Alexei feared was a death blow but which in fact was an expert slicing of the center of the uniform shirt in one go, suddenly revealing the high-ranking Russian’s bare, suntanned chest, its center cleft by a light thatch of dirty-blond chest hair which lightly fanned out over his heaving, sweat-glistening chest to spread over his pointed pink nipples, as the terrified Russian looked on in bug-eyed fear, willing his caviar-and-champagne-filled intestines not to betray him and force him to take a dump in his dress uniform pants, as he feared imminent death.

The sadistic CIA agent James Vaughan deliberately teased the sharp blade of the switchblade against the brown skin of the Russian captive’s heaving chest, deliberately slicing through some of his chest hairs like a machete through wheat, blowing the cut hairs onto the floor below with a hot gust of air from his handsome lips, as the shocked Russian gasped in horror and pleaded for his life, tears literally appearing at his cold blue eyes, much to the sadistic, evil James’ deep satisfaction. James loved having rivals by the balls and a surge of power coursed through his loins at his total control and domination of his pleading subject, a cruel smile curling at his elegant lips, his pearly white straight teeth gleaming in the light from the sconces.

To the Russian’s surprise, James did not plunge the sharp knife into his chest but rather suddenly sliced lower, the sharp knife slicing through the Russian General’s thick leather belt on each side of his body like butter, then deftly cutting down both sides of the form-fitting jodhpur-like uniform pants to the top of his polished black knee-boots, until the uniform pants fell away in two pieces and hung in disheveled fashion over the tops of his knee boots. General Alexei Karishnikov was left virtually naked, his tanned, hairy legs exposed to the knees and the shredded remains of his uniform pants forlornly hanging over his spiffy boots, Alexei down to his very thin, bulging white cotton bikini shorts.

James then deftly sliced through the shorts with a quick flick of his elegant, Rolexed wrist, causing them to fall away in shreds and revealing the embarrassed Russian General’s large flaccid cock and hairy balls as well as his luxuriant dirty-blond-haired pubic bush, and unwittingly exposing his bare white bubble butt in the elegant mirror behind, split by a fine line of dirty-blond asscrack hair. James seized the pleading Russian’s exposed balls with his black leather-gloved hand, squeezing hard on the dude’s crown jewels, causing Alexei to cry out in falsetto tones, begging James to stop, not to kill him, not to de-ball him, please, NOOOOOOO!!!!! Alexei promised to tell James everything he wanted to know, music to James’ ears.

In fact the devastated Russian General “sang like a canary” giving James accurate Serbian troop movements as James continued to ruthlessly squeeze the Russky’s balls with his elegant, leather-gloved hands and sadistically applied two clothespins to each of the Russian General’s tits, causing him to howl in pain when James deliberately flicked the attached clothespins with his black leather-gloved hands, causing them to pull on the General’s tits. James had the guards take photos to use as blackmail, then had the guards escort Alexei out of the Embassy grounds through the service entrance, the guards instructed to throw the shredded-uniformed Alexei out into the cold night, forcing him to find his way back to his barracks bareass, James and the guards having a good laugh as Alexei comically scrambled into the night trying to cover his privates yet find a way home, freezing his bare butt off. James and the guard gladly returned to the warmth of the centrally heated Embassy.

About an hour later, the Embassy party wrapped up, James having explained to all that General Karishnikov had been “called away”. James was slightly peeved that his interrogation of Alexei had prevented him from picking up or even hitting on any of the women at the Embassy party that night, but the big bonus to come for the information made it worthwhile. Still, it was annoying; James was used to regular sexual gratification on his own terms and was still annoyed at his temporary abstinence. Well, there was that Russian-sponsored party at the elegant dacha outside the city to look forward to at the end of the week. James would store up his nut-oysters for that event; damn was some broad going to get royally plugged by James Vaughan at that event! That broad would have James’ hot cum oozing out of her cunt, ass and mouth and that’d just be for starters, yeah!!! God, I am so cool, thought the conceited, elegant James, admiring his handsome tuxedoed visage as he passed another antique mirror, surreptitiously blowing himself a “kiss my cute little ass, world, I am so cool” kiss to the mirror.

As James returned upstairs to his private quarters he caught sight of tuxedoed Matthew Simpson, the 25-year-old personal assistant to the Ambassador himself, returning from the Embassy party after ensuring all had gone well according to his well-orchestrated details. James was well aware that Matthew was a young “closet-case” gay, but it was a well-guarded secret; Matthew was extremely discreet and efficient in everything he did. The only reason James hadn’t “outed” this latest victim of the Government’s “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy was that the six-foot, blond, Matthew was a damn good worker, though James would never admit that to his face. Shit, Matthew did most of the real grunt work for the Ambassador and everyone else at the Embassy, practically ran the place. Nevertheless, the ever-calculating James Vaughan used this information to his advantage, never missing an opportunity to have people crawl in fear of his power. That is why James regularly “bashed” Matthew, not in the way he used to physically assault gays in college with his fraternity buddies, but in a more subtle way. James regularly forced Matthew to literally grovel and beg at James’ feet not to “out” him, and occasionally used the power he had over Matthew to get him to divulge Ambassador/Embassy secrets and military information, not to mention having Matthew do most of James’ own paperwork though that was not Matthew’s job.

Matthew caught sight of James with a mixture of dread and excitement; a “here we go again” look. Not that Matthew really minded the opportunity to worship some part of the hunky James’ body, it was just that he was so abusive, and forced Matthew to do extra work for him that was not Matthew’s responsibility.

“Come into my quarters, Simpson, I have some work for you” announced the shit-eating-grinning James. “Yes, sir” replied Matthew wearily as he followed James into his quarters.

James discreetly locked the door to his quarters behind Matthew, then sat down on a leather-covered wing chair with his elegant hands behind his handsome head in a “King-of-the-World” pose, placing his patent-leather tuxedo shoes onto the elegant Oriental carpet. Several overstuffed silk pillows had been tossed onto the Oriental carpet beside James’ size-13 feet.

James fist ordered Matthew to “Go on, you know the drill, you fuckin’ little faggot, go on, strip out of your little candy-assed tuxedo, cocksucker, show me what a worthless, pathetic, little naked wuss you are, forced to grovel naked before my feet! Do it! Now!”

Blushing with shame and embarrassment despite the many times Matthew had been forced to perform this degrading act, Matthew quickly slipped out of his tuxedo shirt and pants, hastily stripping so as not to incur the further wrath of his tormentor James Vaughan, then tugging down his Calvins to reveal his smooth, defined suntanned chest, an embarrassingly half-hard cock and balls below his dirty-blond-haired pubic bush, and his bare, white bubble butt and smooth asscrack but for wisps around his asshole.

“Fuckin’ naked fag; Look! you’ve already popped a bone faggot, just anticipating your treat tonight! Fuckin’ pathetic wuss. Get down on your knees and crawl over to my feet, NOW you degenerate sick-o!”

James then forced Matthew to lick his patent leather tuxedo shoes clean, not caring that he had stepped in mud and maybe dog shit when he went out to laugh at the naked Alexei, ordering Matthew to lick them shining clean all over the bottoms and tops for several minutes.

As he relaxed with his hands behind his head on the leather wing chair, James then ordered Matthew to remove his patent leather tuxedo shoes and kiss and lick his sheer, silk-socked feet, shoving them forcefully right into Matthew’s face, ordering Matthew to “sniff my fuckin’ stinkin’ feet after a hard day’s work, yeah lick those stinkin’ socks, lick ‘em, lick the bottoms of my feet, yeah, lick ‘em like a dog, bury my toes in your nose, or I’ll shove my toes up your ass,” “Got that, Mary? Huh? Answer me when I ask you a question, fuckface!!”

“Yes sir, Mr. Vaughan, sir” replied Matthew with his mouth full of James’ stinking feet.

“That’s ‘Yes, Sir, Master, King!’, fuckface fag, and don’t ya forget it, fuckin slimeball faggot!”

“Yes, Sir, Master King!” replied Matthew obediently, music to James’ ears.

“I should kick you in the face, I should wipe my ass on your face, you fuckin’ faggot, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” “Answer me, fuckface!” yelled James, smiling a warped smile of amusement at his “little fag’s” humiliating ministrations.

“Yes Sir, Master, King, sir!” cried Matthew.

“Go on, faggot! Take deep breaths of my feet, yeah, keep goin’, keep lickin’, or I’ll fuckin’ beat the shit out of you with my belt like the dog you are! Tell me how great your Master’s feet smell, yeah, do it, grovel, you motherfucker!”

“Your feet smell great, Sir, Master, King, sir!” lied Matthew.

“Yeah, now ease those funky socks down real slow with your faggot teeth, that’s right, expose that bare, pink flesh, yeah, just halfway off for now, if you fuckin’ knock ‘em off too soon , I’ll beat your fuckin’ worthless pansy ass!”

“Yes, Sir, Master, King, sir!” said Matthew dutifully.

” Kiss my feet, you fuckin’ cocksucker, fuckin’ fag! They smell good, don’t they? You know you’re not worth shit, not worth a fuckin’ dime, don’t you? Answer me, you fuckin’ faggot!!” yelled James, thoroughly enjoying himself. God he was great! God’s fuckin” gift to Mankind, mused James as he openly admired himself in the antique mirror across the way, hands crossed behind his head as he lorded it over the “little fag.” James’ horny cock filled with blood and expanded pleasurably in his pants in response to his total domination of the fag and as a result of admiring his reflection. Shit having total power over someone was such a fuckin turn-on. And just look at my handsome reflection in the glass. I am so fuckin great, it’s too fuckin’ much! thought James.

“Yes Sir, Master, King, sir” said Matthew, audibly kissing James’ feet.

“You want to suck my dick, lick my big bull-balls, don’t you, you cocksucker, you want to lick my ass, don’t you? Well, I’m not gonna let you do anything you want to, faggot, so tough luck!” “You do a good job on my tootsies, fuckface, or I’ll fuckin’ cut your faggot tongue out so you can’t lick your boyfriend’s cock or balls any more, can’t lick out his faggot butthole for him. Did I fuckin’ tell you to stop? Keep goin’ faggot!” crowed James.

Matthew slobbered obediently all over James’ feet, James finally ordering him to remove the socks altogether with his teeth and drop them to the floor with his teeth, then to suck each toe like a cock, one-by-one to James’ satisfaction, James whipping off his belt to whack Matthew on the face and ass for emphasis.

James had Matthew service his feet for several more minutes, then ordered Matthew to crawl over to the drinks cabinet, his red ass in the air, ordering Matthew to pour him a shot of whiskey for a nightcap, then bring it back on his hands and knees. As Matthew reached up to hand the shot glass to James, his trembling hands spilled a few drops of whiskey onto James’ tuxedo shirt.

James went beet red in the face and yelled, “LOOK WHAT YOU DID, YOU CLUMSY FAGGOT!!!! YOU FUCKIN’ SPILLED WHISKEY ALL OVER MY TUXEDO SHIRT!!! YOU FUCKIN’ WORTHLESS SLIMEBALL FAGGOT!!! CAN’T YOU FUCKIN’ DO ANYTHING RIGHT????” then downed the shot in one go.

“I can’t fuckin wear this shirt anymore! Is that why you did that, motherfucker? You wanted to have me take off my shirt, didn’t you? Didn’t you? You fuckin’ sick-o faggot, that’s why you did that, didn’t you? Answer me, fuckface!!” roared James.

“No Sir, really! I mean, Yes, Sir, Master, King, sir!” said the confused Matthew.

James began unbuttoning the expensive black onyx studs which filled the button holes of his spiffy tuxedo shirt, slowly revealing tufts of jet-black hair which grew profusely on his manly suntanned chest, Matthew visibly awestruck as more and more of the hunky CIA agent’s bare chest was revealed to his lust-filled gaze. Matthew’s traitorous cock quivered with unavoidable sexual excitement as the studly Embassy attaché slowly, deliberately, teasingly, revealed his manly pelt, onyx stud by onyx stud, handing each onyx stud to Matthew to be reverently placed on a side table. As he did so, James revealed his suntanned, washboard abdominals which contained a line of jet-black hair which descended the ridge thereof to encircle a perfect innie navel, salaciously exposed to Matthew’s excited view, Matthew longing to plunge his tongue into its depths. James then tugged the shirttails of the tuxedo shirt out of his tuxedo pants and ordered Matthew to tug it off his suntanned back as James accommodatingly shrugged his massive, deeply suntanned, muscular shoulders. James told Matthew he expected Matthew to hand-wash the shirt tonight, telling Matthew to get out the “ring around the collar” with his “fuckin’ tongue” and remove all traces of the whiskey stain “or else,” then lay back on the wing chair with his arms crossed behind his head, revealing the incredibly hairy, fragrant depths of the hunky CIA agent’s manly armpits to Matthew’s bug-eyed admiring view.

“You fuckin’ faggot, you’re fuckin starin’ at my manly armpits, aren’t ya? What a fuckin’ pathetic slimeball!!! You getting’ hard starin’ at my pits, faggot? Huh, are you? Answer me when I talk to you fuckface!!”

“Yes Sir, Master, King” replied Matthew.

“That is so fuckin’ sick! But ya know what? Today’s your lucky day! I don’t know why I should, since you’re such a lousy foot licker, but for some reason I’m gonna give you a shot at lickin’ my funky pits. Yeah, should be a trip, forcing ya to eat the sweat out of my pits. OK get that faggot face in there and sniff ‘em both first. Go on, do it!”

Matthew eagerly complied burying his face as far as it would go into James’ right armpit, savoring the manly smell of mansweat mingled with lingering traces of deodorant and expensive cologne that whispered rather than shouted, then burying his face into the left armpit and doing likewise. James then ordered Matthew to take long swipes with his “faggot tongue” Matthew reverently licking the tendrils of the luxuriant rainforests of the incredibly handsome CIA agent’s fragrant armpits, licking and sucking and kissing the sensitive flesh underneath, as his eager, searching tongue devoured every inch of his hidden treasures, his taster whipping around furiously in the depths of James’ armpits, surprisingly eliciting a few quickly stifled gasps and near-giggles as Matthew’s moist tongue slithered around in the sensitive, normally unexposed flesh under the hair of the manly armpits, giving James goosebumps and making his manly tits stand up at attention as James’ sensitive flesh crawled at the increasingly intense ministrations of Matthew’s educated, eager, and hungry tongue.

James reluctantly ordered Matthew to stop, mostly because he had to hit the sack but also because the probing tongue was having an unnerving effect on the CIA agent’s sensitive skin. James instead had Matthew give James’ massive suntanned shoulder muscles a deep massage for several minutes until he had worked the tension out of them. James then ordered Matthew to grab his clothes and “get the fuck outta here, you fuckin faggot, till next time! And hand-wash that shirt right away!, fuckin’ faggot! Get out of my sight! You can jump back into your clothes in the hall I don’t give a flying fuck if there’s anyone out in the hall, just get the fuck outta here!!”

“Yes Sir, Master, King sir!” was Matthew’s pathetic reply. He is such an asshole, thought Matthew as he left. Cute, yeah, damned fuckin’ cute, but an asshole!

James laughed as the naked red-assed Matthew departed, trying to jump into his clothes.

After Matthew left and James had carefully re-locked the door, James proceeded to strip out of his tuxedo pants and Calvins, revealing his suntanned incredibly muscular jet-black-haired legs and revealing his luxuriant jet-black pubic forest with his huge half-hard cock and big hairy bull-balls beneath, also revealing his lightly hair-flecked humpy butt split by a line of dark fur, its firm, alabaster whiteness in total contrast to the rest of his browned body.

James then lovingly showered his incredibly perfect body, luxuriously pouring copious amounts of expensive shower gel all over his luxuriant pubes and working up a sudsing foam all over his magnificent hairy chest and hairy armpits, then lovingly washing his big glorious penis and heavy hairy pendulous balls, bending over to trail more gel into the hairy crack of his ass, letting the warm spray rinse the crack of his manly ass, secretly loving the feel of the warm water coursing down this private place, the water goosing his virgin asshole.

As he toweled off in front of the mirror he openly jerked his big cock a little which almost instantly went half-hard again, so horny was poor James, so much so that he considered jacking off, but then spoke to his reflection saying “Naw, no need to jerk off, better to store up my nut-oysters for that party at the dacha in a couple of days. Some lucky bitch is gonna get fucked royal. I’ll be so hot to trot by then, I’ll be cumming for days, yeah!”

************

General Karishnikov made it back to his quarters without his men knowing what had happened to him at the U.S. Embassy. He had managed to tackle a bum in a park and stolen his clothes, making it back to his barracks where he could shower and change into a fresh uniform.

The next day he was in contact with his associate Count Nicolai Romanov, a member of the Russian nobility who also shared Cossack blood. The 30-year-old, 6′ 3″ darkly handsome Count shared the elite horsemanship of his lusty Cossack birthright, often dressing in full formal riding attire. The Count was also fully involved in black-market activities and had made a killing since the fall of the Soviet Union. Count Nicolai was closely connected to the Russian Army as well, choosing to have a finger in every pot. Nicolai often allowed the Army to use his country dacha, opening his villa to the Army for military functions as well as providing a forum for elegant Embassy parties. Count Nicolai was hosting the party James Vaughan was looking forward to attending at the end of that week. The Count had frequent houseguests at his dacha including his current guest, his young third cousin, the equally spoiled and arrogant Viscount Sergei Romanov, a 6′ 2″ darkly handsome 22 year-old, who lorded it over the Count’s household help as if he owned the dacha. Sergei was also an accomplished horseman who often wore full riding attire, including a nasty riding crop which he kept at the ready, often as not to use unexpectedly on the cowering servants. Both the Count and Viscount were often pictured in glossy European and Russian magazines as their jet-setting party exploits were legendary, and they enjoyed their worldwide celebrity jet-setter status.

Earlier in the month the Count and Viscount had watched with amusement as General Karishnikov used the extensive grounds of the dacha as part of a military training exercise for young troops recruited from the provinces. General Karishnikov did not hesitate to use pain and humiliation techniques to “break-in” the new recruits, largely for the young noblemens’ amusement. General Alexei had, for example ordered one new recruit who had not performed up to par during the exercises, one 18-year old blond, Grigori Podgornov, to strip out of his uniform in front of all of the recruits and the guffawing noblemen, the 6 footer being forced to stand with his hands on his head naked as the entire company laughed at him and General Karishnikov, the Count, and the evil lip-curling Viscount all swatted his bare ass with riding crops until it was flaming fire engine red, then hooted with laughter as the young, pent-up recruit, who had had no sexual outlet for days, flushed with embarrassment as his big cock grew with each stroke on his ass, and, as the assorted company all laughed at him, young Grigori suffered the further embarrassment of suddenly shooting a spontaneous orgasm, spewing hot spunk out of his turgid fuckstick with helpless abandon, causing the noblemen, the General and all of the recruits to laugh and point at the humiliated recruit all the more.

Two days later, the dress-uniformed General Alexei Karishnikov arrived at Count Romanov’s dacha for the elegant diplomatic party, accompanied by two bodyguards, one of whom surprisingly included a dress-uniformed Grigori, the recruit who had been humiliated earlier in the week, and the other being a dress-uniformed recruit Ivan Casanov. Despite the fact that the party was a formal affair, Count and Viscount Romanov both appeared dressed in formal riding gear (complete with riding crops on their hips) rather than tuxedos, their open-necked shirts revealing minute tufts of jet-black body hair against the suntanned flesh of their manly, barrel chests, and their long athletic legs (and asses) encased in form-fitting white riding jodhpurs above their highly polished riding boots. The Count and Viscount liked to project a less formal country air owing to the fact that the dacha was located in a “horsey-set” area well out of the city, and to stress their proud, elite Cossack horseman background as well as their noble heritage.

Viscount Sergei curled his lip at the two young recruits, making clear that he did not approve of such low class persons being admitted to the dacha, and openly smirking with amusement at Grigori, who no doubt would be the butt of jokes when the Viscount disclosed to the elegant guests as many of the details of Grigori’s earlier humiliation as possible (within the limits of good taste, of course).

The elegant James Vaughan arrived fashionably late, making an aristocratic entrance in his impeccable designer tuxedo that more than matched the elegance and grace of his noble hosts’ regal bearing. He arrogantly thrust his vicuna topcoat at two darkish-skinned young servants from Baku on the Caspian Sea, the 18-year-old Hassan and the 19-year-old Behrouz. God, what an arrogant shithead thought the servants to themselves as they outwardly smiled deferentially.

James’ lascivious eyes immediately settled upon who was easily the most beautiful of all the women in the room, a leggy, busty blonde in an elegant silk gown who posed invitingly across the way, her big blue eyes making contact with James’. James spoke to General Karishnikov in the receiving line, quietly inquiring that he “hoped there were no hard feelings” “no permanent damage to your, er, um, old man, I trust?” murmuring that “your help proved most fruitful” the General smiling and assuring James that all was fine, no hard feelings. In fact James had been in further secret contact with the General and had worked out a deal whereby the General would provide information in the future for very small cuts out of James’ bonuses, the cash-strapped Russians willing to give information for relatively small amounts of hard currency. There would be no more need for the rough stuff, but the threat remained if the General got out of line.

James then asked to be introduced by his hosts to “the lovely blonde”. As the Count preceded James and the General towards the blonde, Alexei murmured in James’ ear that the Russians would be interested in some NATO information as well, and that the blonde, Svetlana, would be made available to James tonight for any sexual service he desired so long as James revealed some troop information to the General afterward. The incredibly horny James had popped an immediate boner upon sight of Svetlana, and, since he had no qualms about being a double agent at times if he felt like it, this would certainly be one time…James was already working through what he force Svetlana to do for him….Yeahhhh, oh Yeahhhh! Man, oh man, had he ever been waiting for this night! Shit he hadn’t been this horny in ages, having saved up his spunk just for tonight; he felt like a fuckin’ teenage schoolboy! His “third leg” was only too evident tonight!!!

As the Count made the formal introduction of Svetlana to James, James made his own introduction, reaching for the lovely Svetlana’s hand and announcing “The name is Vaughan…..James Vaughan” as he kissed her hand in the Continental fashion, James always loving the reaction he got to the appropriate takeoff on “James Bond”, as Svetlana gave forth a breathy, tinkling laugh saying “Enchanté, Mr. Vaughan, I’m sure, tell me all about yourself…” as the two of them went off for cocktails and caviar, arm in arm.

Less than an hour later, Svetlana lead James upstairs using a back staircase to one of the bedrooms. James was all over the lovely Svetlana, kissing her passionately as he maneuvered her over to the bed, the athletic Svetlana managing to roll so that she was on top of the tuxedoed James, kissing him all over his handsome face as he lay back on the bed. James had determined that Svetlana was on in on General Karishnikov’s proposition, that the talented Svetlana would sexually service James with whatever James’ horny heart desired. James therefore laid back on the bed and suddenly ordered Svetlana to “fuckin’ service me from head to toe, you high-class Russky whore, yeah, show me how much you want to satisfy me so I will trade some military secrets with General Karishnikov, yeah” James ordering her to “start with my fuckin’ feet, you tarted-up whore, yeah, lick my feet like a fuckin’ dog, worship ‘em, show me how bad, how low you’ll go to satisfy my every need, yeah!”

“Of course, my darling James, eet would be the honor, no? But here, let Svetlana make it all zee more exciting, yes? Eeet is so much more exciting, zee sensations so much more, how you say?, intense? when the eye she does not see where zee tongue is going, no? Here, let’s play a leetle game, no? Svetlana will place this piece of satin over the eyes of her big, strong-like-bull, James before she begin to kiss zee feet, yes? You see eef eet does not, how you say?, heighten zee effect of the foot kissing, yes?” purred the lovely Svetlana, deftly placing a length of satin infused with her expensive perfume over James’ eyes, blindfolding him.

James chuckled good-naturedly, intrigued by the idea; shit he was already so fuckin’ hot to trot he was game for almost any kind of kinky games to heighten his arousal. Damn this broad was one sexy, talented whore, just what he needed to relieve his incredible sexual tension. All this abstinence had James’ bull-balls churning with the need to spew his nut-oysters from here to Mars and back; his cock was already quivering with horny anticipation and overwhelming need as it lay trapped in the confines of his Calvins under his tuxedo pants.

Svetlana then proceeded to remove his black patent leather tuxedo shoes, then proceeded to sniff then lick and suck on his sheer silk tuxedo socks sliding her tongue expertly up and down the lengths of James’ size-13 feet, sucking on each of his toes through the socks, then eventually slowly removing each sock, baring the pink soles of James’ feet, causing the big, strapping red-blooded CIA agent to sigh with pleasure and encourage Svetlana to continue servicing him, James barking out to “Yeah do it keep it up, worship and massage those big sexy feet, yeah show me what a whore you are, yeah! Fuck, you’re right it is more fuckin’ intense blindfolded, yeah, makes me feel every swipe of your fuckin’ whore’s tongue’s worship of my big fuckin’ feet, yeah, degrade yourself, bitch!”

After several more minutes of foot worship, Svetlana, moved up to James’ heaving tuxedo-shirt-covered chest, James already breathing deeply with increasing sexual arousal, the blindfolded James jumping when he suddenly felt her hand on his chest, James going “What the fuck? Hey, I didn’t say to stop working on my feet, you stupid Russky whore! Get back to work, bitch!”

“Oh, but my darling James! I do not mean to neglect my duties to zee feet, but Svetlana could not resist. Your chest is so sexy, my darling James, tell Svetlana ees eet as hairy and manly as Svetlana anticipates, yes? May Svetlana open my darling James’ shirt and take zee leetle peek, yes?”

“You fuckin’ bet your two-bit whore’s ass it’s fuckin’ hairy, you’ll cream your panties when you get a load of it; fuckin’ chiseled to perfection too, if I say so myself, I work out all the time; you’re in for a treat, bitch. Yeah, OK, go ahead, you have my permission to worship my chest, but remember who’s callin’ the shots here, bitch!”

Svetlana accordingly proceeded to unbutton each of the black onyx tuxedo studs one-by-one, slowly revealing more and more of James’ chest and the profusion of manly jet-black hair whorls growing on its suntanned surface, Svetlana ooooing and ahhhing in appreciation as the smug, self-satisfied James ate it up, his cock swelling to gargantuan proportions in his tuxedo pants in response to the appropriate admiration and the pleasant feeling of Svetlana’s warm, long-nailed fingers tracing their way through the sexy forest of chest hair, her long polished nails occasionally accidentally catching on some of the hairs and yanking them out as Svetlana pleasurably raked and tugged her long-nailed hands through James’ chest hair, commenting on its manliness and how that turned her on.

When she had completely unbuttoned James’ tuxedo shirt, Svetlana asked and received permission from James to remove it altogether, pulling it apart to fully reveal James’ sexy, suntanned heaving chest, revealing the broad planes of his hairy chest capped by his pointed tits, and his suntanned, washboard abdominals which contained a line of jet-black hair which descended the ridge thereof to encircle his perfect innie navel. Svetlana cooed appreciatively as James’ manly, hair-filled armpits were totally revealed as he lay on the bed with his hands curled behind his head, James smiling with smug satisfaction at Svetlana’s to-be-expected adoration of his studly body.

“Yeah, all the chicks dig my sexy, hairy body, this is your lucky day, whore, now get to work, kiss my chest, lick out the sweat from my hairy armpits, yeah, do it worship me, work for it, bitch!”

Blindfolded James jumped in surprise as Svetlana descended onto his right tit, licking around it in sexy concentric circles causing it to rise up in excitement, and forcing the hot-to-trot James to sigh with pleasure, his breath coming in little short exciting mewling bursts despite his effort to remain the cool, suave sophisticated fellow that he normally was, but it was becoming more and more difficult to do so, the incredibly intense sexual tension that had been building in his body for days was forcing him to betray his undeniable need, forcing James to inadvertently reveal by his actions that he was overwhelmed with rising lust.

“Yeah, do it, lick my chest you whore, oh yeahh, that’s it oh shit, you’re making me so fuckin’ hot, you whore, yeah do it, lick my tits, the hair on my chest, yeah run your fingers through that manly sexy hair, yeah, do it, oh fuck, yeahhhh!!!” James rising up off the bed and squealing as Svetlana suddenly zeroed in on his left tit, nibbling and licking at his sensitive left nubbin like a little cock causing the panting, mewling James to break a sweat and go “Oh yeahhhhhh!!! Sooooooo goooood! Damn, you fuckin’ two-bit whore, you know your business, yeahhh, oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!!! as James rolled his head in near delirium, his hot tongue lolling out from between his sexy lips and his breath coming in little mewling staccato bursts like he was giving birth or something, James going “oh yeah you got me so fuckin’ hot, bitch, yeah do it worship me ,oh yeah, as his big cock quivered helplessly with intense desire, still trapped with a life of its own inside his packed Calvins under his tuxedo pants.

“Oh my darling James! Look! How beeg your beeg sexy pee-nis has become, no?” Svetlana running her hand over the front of James’ tenting tuxedo pants, causing him to gasp with pleasure, then James jumped with surprise as the blindfolded CIA agent felt Svetlana suddenly swoop into his exposed right hairy armpit and begin licking his manly sweat from the depths of his sensitive hollow, causing James to mewl and arch his back on the bed with excitement, James ordering her to “Yeah, that’s right, bitch, get your tongue into that hot sexy pit, yeah, I know how you chicks get off on my fuckin’ male, butch odor, yeah do it, slide it around in there, do both pits, yeahhh!!” as the blissed-out James rolled his head from side to side his tongue lolling out of his handsome mouth as he practically drooled with rising lust, James raising his arms far behind his handsome head to give Svetlana total access to his hairy, sweaty pits, sighing with pleasure.

Unbeknownst to James, Svetlana now had an evil grin on her face as she extracted a pair of handcuffs from her evening bag and suddenly grabbed James’ hairy wrists and cuffed his wrists to a handy headboard attachment built into the headboard so that the blindfolded CIA agent was trapped. “Hey!!?? What the fuck??? What are you doing bitch? I’m not into any fuckin’ bondage shit, you dumb whore!! Fuckin’ uncuff me this instant or you can tell General Karishnikov no deal, no info, understand?”

For a reply James was startled to hear General Karishnikov’s voice suddenly say “Ah, my dear friend, James, it would appear that you are no longer in a position to make demands, my friend. We’ll get the information we want, Mr. Vaughan, won’t we, guys?” accompanied by evil laughter from the uniformed General, Count and Viscount Romanoff and Grigori and Ivan who had entered the room, joined by Svetlana’s tinkling laugh as well.

“Ah and my good friend James, all this has been secretly videotaped with a hidden camera and will continue to be taped to be recorded for all time. While you and Svetlana have been enjoying yourselves the party has concluded and we have bid out guests goodbye, so now we may all devote our attention to you for our collective entertainment. Do you feel a little ridiculous and embarrassed , my friend, all tied up, and horny in front of the Count, Viscount, Grigori, Ivan, Svetlana and myself? Revenge is a bitch isn’t it, James? You see, there are a few hard feelings on my part after all, my friend!” accompanied by more evil laughter from all concerned.

The blindfolded James cursed and swore to no avail as he struggled in his bondage. The uniformed General suddenly went to the foot of the bed where he knocked aside a large, down comforter which had been folded over the carved wood bottom of the bed to reveal that the bottom board of the bed had been made into Colonial U.S.-type stocks with holes through which feet could be placed so that they hung out of the bottom of the bed. The General pulled James’ bare feet through the stocks with his leather-gloved hands and locked them in place, as James swore and made impotent threats.

James then felt a sharp knife on his heaving, hairy chest, the General teasing the suntanned skin with the super-sharp point of the knife, scraping a few chest hairs off of James as the struggling CIA agent feared for his life. The blindfolded James then felt something brushing pleasurably against both of his manly tits, then howled in pain as the General clipped two clothespins to each of James’ tits, James howling in pain and at the indignity of this, as his audience laughed uproariously at his plight, the General flicking the attached clothespins with his black leather-gloved fingers causing the clothespins to pull at James’ sensitive tits and adjacent body hair. “I will personally cut your balls off for this, Alexei Karishnikov, just you see! Cut this shit out this fuckin’ instant!” ordered the defiant CIA agent, to the sound of further derisive laughter. “If anything, my friend, you will be literally eating those words when I feed you my big balls to be serviced by your groveling CIA tongue!” said the General to hoots of laughter from all concerned.

Next, James suddenly felt the knife plunging into the fabric of the bottom of his tuxedo pants, only to feel its sharp blade run up the inside of both of his hairy legs, slicing through the expensive material like butter, only to suddenly slice across the bottom of the crotch of James’ spiffy pants. James suddenly felt a draft against his balls that were now only protected by the thin cotton of his Calvins. The General then suddenly ripped the fabric remnants of the crotch of James’ tuxedo pants towards his washboard abs, ripping the crotch of the pants out and tossing it aside like the rag it now was, leaving the crotch of James’ packed white cotton Calvins totally exposed, as James cursed and struggled. The General then told James to hold still “unless you want to sing falsetto” as the General placed the sharp blade of the knife directly against James’ Calvined balls then savagely drew it across the bottom of the crotch of the CIA agent’s sexy underwear causing the fabric to give way, then suddenly flicking the knife up towards James’ abdomen so that the Calvins disintegrated to shreds and fell off his body, revealing James’ half-hard cock hairy pubes and big hairy bull balls for all to see, leaving the bound CIA agent totally nude and blushing, only for the General to grab the shredded shorts and rub them all over the protesting James’ handsome face and making him sniff his own shorts before tossing them onto the floor.

“Ha ha, ha, look at the big, strutting American CIA agent now, my friends, completely naked, all tied up and oh so horny!! What a picture this makes for our video!!” to uproarious laughter from all, James thrashing all the more going “Video? You mean you were serious about that video shit?? You fuckin’ Russky fuckers!!! Let me go now!! Cut this shit out this instant!! This is a fuckin’ international incident!!! I’ll have your balls on a platter for this, Karishnikov!”

General Karishnikov merely approached the bound, blindfolded James and deliberately began to run a black leather-gloved finger down the center of James’ proud, heaving, hairy chest, running the smooth leather finger through the whorls of manly chest hair, slowly moving down, down the strapping, but struggling, CIA agent’s suntanned body, pausing to first encircle James’ innie navel with his finger only to then plunge the finger right into James’ sensitive bellybutton, causing the arrogant CIA agent to arch his back and growl in anger and sexual response, his quivering cock filling with blood and going rock-hard, so great was his sexual tension.

The General and friends all laughed at James’ embarrassing response, the General suddenly seizing the great CIA agent James Vaughan’s tumescent penis in his black leather gloved hand, squeezing it and jacking it while his other black leather-gloved hand teased and tickled the bound CIA agent’s hairy bull-balls, saying “Ah, our poor Mr. Vaughan is such a horny bastard tonight, thinking he was going to have Svetlana! Look at how his big American penis swells with desire, the merest touch driving him up the wall with lust! How long has it been since you last obtained relief my friend? It’s a pity you are so in need tonight! Poor James! He is so frustrated with desire, yes? All the more fun for us my friend!”

“Goddamn it Karishnikov! Cut that the fuck out you fuckin’ Russky faggot!! Fuck all of you goddamned Russkies! I’m gonna get loose and then you’ll all be sorry, just you wait and see fuckers!!” yelled the outraged red-faced, sweating James as he pulled at his bonds, all his muscle groups evident as he struggled wildly for freedom “I won’t fuckin divulge one fuckin’ NATO secret now, not for all the fuckin’ tea in China, you assholes! You promised me Svetlana then pulled this fuckin’ double-cross, so there’s no way I’m givin’ you fuckers any info now, so you may as well let me go, you assholes”

At a signal from the General, the Count and Viscount took their places at the foot of the bed and Grigori and Ivan took their places alongside the general, near James’ bound upper body. The Count eagerly placed each of James’ struggling toes into tiny toe nooses which extended out of the bottom board of the bed above his size 13 feet, which forced James’ bare pink feet to flex backward and forced the sensitive flesh between each of the CIA agents handsome toes to be totally exposed and helpless. Then the Count and Viscount proceeded to eagerly slide their fingers all up and down the soles of James’ feet, tickling and teasing his big tootsies; it was a toss-up which nobleman wore the more sadistic grin or whose eyes gleamed the most with triumph at having a big, strapping American CIA agent at their mercy. Meanwhile, Grigori and Ivan simultaneously descended upon each of James’ totally exposed hairy sweaty armpits, tweaked his clothespinned tits and raked their talented fingers down his ribs and sides, into his navel and all over his hairy upper torso at random as the General joined them, the General periodically seizing James’ big cock or tugging on his big balls, being careful not to let him climax.

James reacted from top to bottom like they had jolted his hunky blindfolded body with jolts of electricity, flinching and trembling, quivering and shaking, letting out a startled howl of protest which became more mewling wails and agonized screeches, James erupting like a chicken being plucked going “AIEEEEEEEE!!!!! STOPPPPPP!!! ARGHHHHH!!!! NOT THERE!!!! OH MY GOD NOT THERE TOO!!! STOPPPP!!! NOT FIVE AT ONCE!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!! HELPPPPPP!!!! STOPPPPP!!!! HAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH!!!!! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE !!!! WHOOO-EEEEEE!!!!! GOD-DAMN!!!!!!!!! AIEEEEE!!!!! STOPPPP!!!! YOU CAN’T FUCKIN DO THIS TO ME!!!!! I’M AN AGENT OF THE U.S. GOVERNMENT FOR GODSAKES!!!!! STOPPPPPP!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!! PUH-LEEZE STOPPPPPPP!!!! OH MY FUCKIN GAWDDDDDDD!!!!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!! I CAN’T FUCKIN’ TAKE THIS!!!! NOOOOOO!!!!”

After several more minutes of this tickle torture James was humiliatingly pleading for them all to stop, his hyper-sensitive skin covered in goosebumps and James hardly able to get enough breath to speak at all. The exhausted James soon had to promise to divulge the NATO troop movements, the humiliated, nearly broken CIA agent finally convincing them to stop long enough for him to tell them what they wanted to know. James still felt cheated that he had had to divulge the information after all, and was especially miffed at not having even gotten his rocks off with Svetlana, but was totally relieved that the tickling, probing fingers had stopped dancing all over his bound body.

An exhausted James then said “OK you fuckers, you got what you wanted now set me free, you assholes!” James was pleased when he felt his wrists and ankles being freed from the cuffs and stocks respectively, but James would have smelled a rat had he seen the gleam in the General’s eye. As the unsuspecting James removed his satin blindfold and began to get up off the bed, James was startled to see that the Count was pointing a shotgun at him and was soon prodding him in the back with it, then ordering the naked James to crawl over to where General Karishnikov sat in a wing-backed chair. As the others looked on and laughed derisively, the Count ordered James to kiss and lick the general’s shiny black knee-boots, the bug-eyed James protesting loudly at the very idea until the Count pressed the gun barrel onto the backs of James’ dangling hairy balls as he crawled over to the General.

The proud CIA agent was lowered to the point of groveling at the Russian General’s feet, fitting retribution for having roughed up and stripped General Karishnikov. If only Matthew at the Embassy could see James now! Alexei forced his booted feet right into James’ handsome face, making James lick the bottoms of the boots, then all over the boots up his calves then down to the toe of the boots again. Alexei then removed the boots and forced his smelly socked feet right in the startled CIA agent’s face, forcing James to sniff them deeply and audibly to the accompaniment of his audience’s laughter, then was forced to suck on the socked toes, over the soles and down to the heels. Finally, Alexei removed his socks and forced James to service his bare tootsies in similar fashion, then massage and kiss his bare feet. The humiliated James pleaded for this to stop, that he had already told them everything he knew and more than he had ever intended to, but the assembly seemed intent on continuing to humiliate him, the assholes.

Meanwhile Viscount Sergei Romanov had gone to the closet of the bedroom where he extracted a steel frame about the size and shape of a door frame which he secured near the foot of the bed, sneering a sadistic smile, his every move suggesting, “just wait till you see what we’re gonna do next.” The Count and Viscount then forced James to crawl over to it at shotgun-point, whereupon the Viscount placed each of James wrists in separate handcuffs which he attached to the very top of the sturdy frame so that James hung from his cuffs trapped within the frame. To James’ amazement the Viscount and the General then each placed special boots onto James feet, which James finally realized were gravity boots. What were these fuckers up to? thought James. I’m into exercising my buff body and all, but there’s a time and place for everything and this was not the time. Fuck, and he was naked “to boot” as it were.

He soon found out, however, when all of a sudden the Viscount and General raised James’ hairy suntanned legs into the air, widely separating his legs and then attaching the gravity boots to the top of the frame, only to almost simultaneously release him from the handcuffs, so that his arms and torso fell suddenly downwards toward the floor upside down, and so that James suddenly found himself suspended upside down from the metal frame, the top of his head swinging inches from the floor and his body swaying slightly back and forth. Worse, James felt an embarrassing draft on his asscrack as his widely spread legs forced his asscrack to open and fully reveal his hairy ravine and butch virgin asshole to the company’s gaze and laughter. Even more embarrassing was the fact that James’ upside-down midsection was now right at a convenient height so that all the General had to do was reach out one leather-gloved finger in order to slide it teasingly through the humiliated CIA agent’s assfur up to his balls, his raging hard-on also fully accessible to his tormentors, his upside-down bare ass presenting itself invitingly to their gaze. The General teasingly slid one such leather-gloved finger through James’ furry asscrack, circling his hair-encircled virgin asshole then teasingly tickling James’ shamefully exposed pink virgin anal rosebud, as James cursed and writhed in pleasant agony and abject humiliation at his public exposure.

“Ah my big, strutting CIA agent James! Does my big, strong American bull find himself in a compromising situation? Look at you! Bareass! Red-faced! Upside down! Offensively presenting your big, hairy American ass for all to see! And James has been a very naughty boy, very naughty boy indeed!” crowed the General.

“For Godsakes, Karishnikov, cut out this shit!!! I swear I will personally have your Russky balls for this! Now let me down this instant! You’ve got what you wanted, now let me the fuck go, you asshole!” yelled the red-faced from shame and embarrassment James, his burning face also the result of all the blood rushing to his handsome head as he swung suspended from the gravity boots, his now temporarily freed upside-down arms swinging wildly and ineffectually as he swung upside down, the effort only causing his body to sway all the more.

“You will ‘have my balls’ all right, my friend, later, when I personally feed them to you to be kissed and tasted on your arrogant tongue!” taunted General Karishnikov.

To James’ further horror, he suddenly heard a whishing sound in the air only to feel the full brute force of both the Count and Viscount’s riding crops against his bare, inviting assglobes, the horse whips slicing into his tender asscheeks with savage energy as the two Russian noblemen swatted the American CIA agent’s flaming backside, the two swatting James’ naked butt until it was semi-striped and fire-engine red and burning. Viscount Sergei Romanov even delivered a few well-aimed blows right to the asscrack and asshole, the tip of the sadistic young Viscount’s riding crop making stinging contact with the backs of James’ hairy bull-balls, the young Russian nobleman delivering the stinging blows with an incredibly sadistic gleam in his evil eyes, Sergei’s own cock secretly quivering in his riding pants as he swatted the big American spy’s most intimate areas, laughing evilly.

James then heard a disconcerting buzzing sound as Karishnikov then proceeded to produce electric buzz hair clippers like those used to shave recruits heads, which he teasingly buzzed over the area of James’ exposed asscrack and the backs of his hairy bull-balls as the smug, arrogant smartass CIA agent swung helplessly before him.

“Fuck, no! You fuckin wouldn’t dare!!! No Stoppp!!” yelled a frantic James, as General Karishnikov applied the buzz clippers to the area between James’ asshole and his balls, teasingly making contact with this area with the clippers, while in reality giving James more of a trim than doing any real deforestation of James’ body hair. Nevertheless, James could not see that and trembled in fear that the Russky planned to shave off all of his body hair, maybe even shave him bald. The assembled crowd laughed as this dawned on James, James nearly shitting himself when the evil Viscount suddenly eagerly urged Karishnikov to “Yeah shave off all the motherfucker’s body hair, shave off all his proud pubies, shave the fuckin’ American spy bald, show him he must bow down to Russian nobility!” but was forestalled from further comments when he felt his royal penis lurch alarmingly in his tight riding pants as he imagined topping the strutting American spy in this fashion. It would not do for a nobleman to develop a noticeable bulge in his trousers in front of strangers, particularly low-class ones like Grigori and Ivan, so Viscount Sergei let the suggestion drop.

Nevertheless, General Karishnikov continued to teasingly clip some of James’ pubies from his asscrack and the backs of his hairy bull-balls while he simultaneously teased James’ huge, unsatisfied boner with his other leather-gloved hand. The General then took a goodly quantity of the removed pubies and sprinkled and pressed them right onto James’ shocked lips and nose, James’ spitting them out ineffectively, as many got onto his braying tongue the annoying, tickling hairs getting on his tongue and into his nostrils, forcing him to taste and smell the musky scent of his own asscrack and balls.

The General then suddenly grabbed James’ shoulders and pulled him up towards his own midsection so that James’ head was right at the crotch and ass level of the General dress uniform pants. The Count and Viscount then held James head up as the General thrust his uniformed crotch and then turned around and thrust his uniformed ass at James, the Count and Viscount forcing James to kiss and loudly sniff the General’s uniformed crotch and ass as the entire assembly laughed derisively, the General saying “Yeah, kiss my ass, big fuckin’ CIA spy, go ahead, kiss it, yeah, sniff my crotch you worthless sack of American shit!” to further uproarious laughter.

The General then announced to all that he had some personal unfinished business that he would have to complete alone with James. The Count and Viscount helped the General release James from the gravity boots at shotgun-point, then James was re-bound to the bed with is feet in the stocks again, his toes again spread out into the little toe-nooses so that his toes were separated and his soles invitingly flexed so that his size-13s were immovable and totally vulnerable. The Count and Viscount left the room with the lovely, gowned Svetlana, the Count announcing to all, especially James, that he and the Viscount would be enjoying a private three-way with her, that they, instead of James, would be having her satisfy their every royal sexual whim until she had drained every drop of their combined royal spend from the depths of their manly, noble Cossack balls, both smiling lasciviously with royal “eat your hearts out, you low-class fuckers” grins.

The General then had his bodyguards, Grigori and Ivan, post themselves outside in the hall, ordering them not to enter the room until the General called them back. The General then proceeded to approach the bound CIA agent, announcing that he had a personal score to settle with James for throwing him out naked into the street. “We now know that you are extremely ticklish, James, so I think that is the main weakness we must now explore, besides other fitting punishments, of course, a little pain thrown in with the unbidden pleasure, that sort of thing. Yeah, it’s gonna be a long night, my friend!”

Before James could try to reason with the General or make threats to him, however, the General proceeded to attack James’ bound bare feet with his leather-gloved hands, wildly tickling his soles, toes and heels as James screeched, thrashed, cursed, laughed and shrieked madly, his rock-hard cock slapping around embarrassingly as the General sadistically quickly ran his fingers against James’ sensitive footflesh, dancing his fingers sadistically all over the CIA agent’s helpless pink soles, James yelling “NOOOO!!! STOPPPP!!!! NOT AGAIN!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!! AIEEEEEEEEE!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEKKK!! HAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!!! ARGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! OH MY FUCKIN’ GAWDDDDDD!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!! STOPPPPPP!!!! PLEASE STOPPPPPP!!!!! I CAN’T FUCKIN’ TAKE THIS!!!!! I’M GONNA PISS OR SHIT OR SOMETHING!!!!! NOOOOOO!!! YOU’LL GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK!!!!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!! STOPPPPP!!!! I’M A GOVERNMENT AGENT!!!!! YOU CAN’T FUCKIN’ DO THIS TO ME!!!! NOOOOO!!!! STOPPPPP!!!! HELPPPPP MEEEEEE!!!! OH MYGOD!!!! SWEET JESUS, SOMEBODY HELPPPPP MEEEEEE !!!! EEEEEEEEKKKKK!!!!!!”

The General then proceeded to beat the arrogant CIA agent’s bare feet, swatting his bare soles with a handy ruler until they turned red and were burning madly, James screaming with pain and begging him to stop to no avail. The General kept this up for several minutes grinning and laughing as he delivered blow after blow to James’ bare feet. James next saw the General light a candle he obtained from a nearby bureau whereupon he proceeded to place it close to James’ already burning feet, roasting the CIA agent’s soles and giving him a case of “hot foot” as James writhed and shrieked in pain, as much from the fear of being burnt as from the actual heat and pain he was feeling. James did not know whether the General was intent on blistering his feet, ruining them or what. The General kept this up for several more minutes until James was a near total basket case, his red hot tootsies burning sweating and roasting wildly. The General then stopped and renewed the tickle torture instead using numerous sharp objects as well his fingers and feathers on James’ red-hot feet for half an hour until James was nearly delirious, his unsatisfied boner waving like a flagpole all the while over his drawn up hairy bull balls! James realized he really needed to cum, he really needed to cum very badly!

The General next proceeded to delve his leather-gloved fingers into the depths of James’ exposed hairy armpits, eliciting further shrieks, laughter and howls of protest as his manly rainforests were plundered by the General’s wildly scrabbling fingers, the General parting the waves of hair whorls to reach James’ most sensitive underarm skin, the bound CIA agent squealing and mewling in near delirium as the Russian General’s fingers tickle tortured his pits, the General tweaking James’ pointed hair-encircled tits and “walking” his dancing leather-gloved fingers over James’ heaving, hairy chest, then down his sides to his ribs, and into his innie navel as the bound spy arched his back and his rock-hard boner slapped his rock-hard-abs noisily, all this tickle torture only making James’ huge cock all the more ready to burst if only it was allowed a bit more friction, a bit more contact, but it simply waved in deliciously horny frustration, bobbing and swaying in the night air, generating its own white-hot, searing heat as James’ squirming nut-oysters begged for their needed release, his over-filled hairy, frustrated ballsacs sweating muskily, their rank male odor permeating the room, as the cum-denied spy writhed and pulled at his bonds, every muscle group of his tied-down hunky body straining to concentrate their strength into James’ desperate loins, to no avail. Why had he abstained from sex for so long?? He was in fuckin’ agony to cum, tiny tears of sheer frustration pricking at his eyes as he futilely thrust his mighty loins into the night air, unable to bring himself off, with nothing to trigger the pent-up orgasm his lust-filled genitals so desperately needed.

The general then proceeded to bring the lit candle right under each of James’ hairy armpits deliberately allowing the flame to lick at his exposed underarm tufts and intentionally setting small crackling brushfires under his pits one at a time, as James howled and jumped in fear at the pain and heat on his sensitive underarm flesh and armpit hair, the General expertly allowing the little acrid-smelling fires to burn some of the hairs just down to, but not quite all the way to, the sensitive skin of the bound CIA agent’s armpit flesh, rubbing out the flame with his leather-gloved fingers each time. Nevertheless, the heat of the flame and the tiny fires were roasting the brash, arrogant spy’s hairy, sweaty armpits, turning the flesh pinkish red. James’ nervous jumping even caused him to be burned slightly by the flame his armpit hair sizzling, curling up and burning with an acrid smell before being put out just in time. The General also used this technique on James’ sensitive tits making the arrogant CIA agent scream in fear and pain as his hot nubbins roasted and some of the hair around his tits caught fire temporarily before being put out. The General then directed the candle over James’ luxuriant pubic bush, setting off more tiny brushfires and roasting his loins, then carefully directed the candle flame almost against James’ big bull-balls, sizzling the hair there as well, as he gleefully roasted the big, strapping American spy’s hot cum-churning hairy nuts to the accompaniment of hysterical pleas, bowel-churning fear, and “orders” to stop. The General even let the flame trail down under James’ big nuts to the area of his hair-encircled virgin asshole, setting more fires and putting them out as James jumped and pleaded hysterically for the general not to ruin his manly, pleasure-giving genitalia.

The General next re-blindfolded James, then proceeded to announce that he was going to reward James for being a “good boy” by allowing the smug spy to “have his balls” as James had threatened so much. The blindfolded James listened in horror to the sound of the hunky General Karishnikov stripping out of his uniform and shorts, then felt the General’s musky shorts hit his face, the General forcing James to sniff and lick them thoroughly before he felt the big now nude General climb on to the bed with his head toward James’ feet, the General first presenting his bare white ass and asscrack to James to be loudly kissed, whereupon the General descended his mid section lower until his hairy balls brushed right over James horrified wind-burned lips and nose as the disgusted James futilely tried to turn away or spit them away, as the General boomed with raucous laughter at his humiliation. “You said you would have my balls and now you try to reject them? This is an insult!” crowed the General, who then hopped off James and proceeded to tickle torture his roasted skin all the more for several minutes. Little did the General know that Grigori and Ivan were gleefully watching through the keyhole, amused at the antics of their embarrassingly naked superior officer, noting how the General’s own cock was rock hard with excitement.

The General continued to tickle torture James all over till he was totally delirious and his unsatisfied cock bobbed helplessly, then re-focused on tickling James feet. The General rubbed his own hard cock against James’ red-hot and tickle tootsies as he tickled the shit out of the bound spy, relishing the way that James’ squirming feet and toes and toenails inadvertently goosed the General’s big cock and hairy balls, until the General threw his head back in ecstasy and shouted “I’m cumming all over your fuckin’ feet Mr. James Vaughan!!!! AHHHH YEAHHHHHHH!!!!” the General’s big cock exploding like an erupting volcano as it spewed out bolt after bolt of hot highly pressurized Russian cum, hot sky-rocketing cum rockets squirting wildly all over, geysers of steaming nut oysters fountaining out of the Russian General’s big fountaining prick as they blasted up out of the officer’s hairy bull-balls, volley after volley of hot cum squirting way up into the air only to splatter back down not only onto James’ feet but onto the bound, helpless James as well, hot cum rockets spewing way up onto James’ heaving, hairy chest, a few of the lusty General’s hearty nut-busters flying way up to splatter James’ surprised and outraged face.

The General then literally “rubbed it in” rubbing his cum into James’ outraged face to drive home to James that while General Karishnikov just got his own rocks off royally, poor James’ huge boner fervently pulsed and swayed in rock-hard frustration, ever fiber of the stalwart young CIA agent’s being still yearning for release of his incredible, unbearable sexual tension, his manly loins aching to do what the General’s just did, James even visualizing how it would happen, frustrating him even further.

The General was then surprised as Grigori and Ivan burst into the room, Grigori grabbing the General’s discarded uniform and Ivan seizing the General’s troop leading baton which resembled a riding crop itself, Ivan slicing it through the air threateningly as Grigori and Ivan forced the naked spluttering General into the next bedroom. Grigori removed James’ blindfold for him so he could at least see the General’s own humiliation, James’ cock throbbing in response to seeing his tormentor about to get his as well, the naked General fuming at this “mutiny” by his inferior enlisted men as Grigori and Ivan wrestled onto the bed of the next bedroom and shut the connecting door, the general shrieking as Grigori and Ivan spread-eagled him to the bed and began what was to be a long session of tickle torture retribution for the way the General had humiliated Grigori in front of the troops, Grigori having grabbed a spare candle from the bureau on his way to the next bedroom, the better to “roast” the General and sizzle his pubies for him as well!

James was left alone tied to the bed, his rock-hard cock aching for release. A few minutes late the door to James’ bedroom was opened by what turned out to be one of the servants from the party, the 18-year-old darkish-skinned Hassan from Baku, still dressed in his white linen house-boy type jacket from the party. James began to buck and thrash on the bed demanding that the young servant release him immediately, then when that didn’t work, James softened his voice a little, offering the kid money to be set free. Hassan, still smarting from the belittling treatment James had given him upon his arrival at the party, and secretly having already been bribed by Grigori, refused and instead approached James carrying two tapering feathers, one of which he teasingly placed right against the swollen cockhead and glans of James’ pulsating rock-hard boner and the other being placed onto James’ hairy, cum-churning balls.

James groaned with lust as his cock trembled and quivered with new-found excitement and his nut-oyster squirmed merrily in the bound strapping American spy’s pent-up balls. “Oh yeahh!! OK kid, yeah, that’s right, I’ll even pay you just to get my fuckin’ rocks off! You see, your employers paid a kind of trick on me here, tied me up so I can’t, er, satisfy myself, you see, I mean I can’t reach my cock myself, you know? So if you don’t think you can release me without getting in trouble, at least let me be able to tell your employers that you treated me well as one of their guests, by helping me, er, relieve my obvious sexual tension. Now, just be sure you do a good job and I’ll put in a good word for you, just wait and see. I’m so hot to trot I’m even willing to let you go down on me, you know? Suck my cock for me? You into that, you little dark faggot, huh, are ya huh? If not, a hand job will do. Shouldn’t take long. I’m ready to fuckin’ shower you with my hot American cum. That probably turns you on, right? Gives you a fuckin’ hard?? OK, go ahead, servant, service me, go on, I haven’t got all night! Get to it!”

“Yes sir!” replied Hassan with a lusty gleam in his dark eyes. Hassan couldn’t believe his luck. A fuckin’ hotshot big strapping naked American CIA agent bound and helpless and at Hassan’s mercy for all night, maybe even days! What a turn-on! It was gonna be fun watching him buck and squirm, tease the holy crap right out of him if he wanted to!

Hassan applied himself diligently, affecting the air of a devoted, slavish servant anxious to please his noble Lord and Master, as he delicately teased James’ straining cockhead and the sensitive underside of his glans with a feather as James deeply sighed with exquisite, anticipatory and realized pleasure, an immense wave of relief that his torment was finally at its end, as he let this devoted, talented servant service his hunky body, James giving himself over totally to this white-coated houseboy, James reckoning that this Hassan probably was called upon to drain the Count and Viscount’s hairy Cossack balls all the time, probably even bathed and rinsed their royal asses for them all the time, maybe even wiped their asses for them after they took a royal dump for all James knew; the guy probably had to know how to please them, so now it was James’ turn to have his sexual needs seen to, be given the fuckin’ royal treatment. All the way, yeahhhh.

Hassan fully intended to give James the “royal treatment” just not in the way the blissed-out James had imagined.

Hassan continued to teasingly tickle James’ straining, red-hot Mr. Happy as it danced in the fully upright position against the feather fronds while Hassan simultaneously tickled the bound CIA agent’s big hairy bull balls, occasionally delving under James’ big musky balls to tease his hair-encircled asshole, causing James to moan, groan and literally drool with rising lust as he watched proprietarily as his “crown jewels” were apparently being lovingly serviced toward a fast-approaching blast-off, James smirking to himself that he hoped the dark little houseboy wasn’t fuckin’ drowned in his fuckin’ CIA spunk; when James shot it was going to be the fuckin’ Cum of the Century!

“You like, mee-ster? Does Hassan not do the good job, Mee-ster Beeg CIA agent man? Does Mee-ster desire that Hassan make Mee-ster very, very happy in the way that all men crave? Ees that what Mee-ster desires??” cooed Hassan.

“Oh yeah, keep that up you slavish darkie, yeah go on I’m getting close, oh yeah it feels so gooooddd, almost there, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, just a little more, any second now….” husked an on-the-edge James.

“Wha the fuck??” cried James. “Hey, why did you stop, asshole? I was finally almost there! That felt so good! I was just gonna blast you with my big hot red-blooded All-American load, for Christ’s sake! C’mon finish me off!! That’s an order you fuckin’ moron!! You want me to tell the Count about how you failed to please me? Don’t make me tell him! He’ll beat your deserving darkie ass! C’mon hop back to it now!”

“LISTEN UP FUCKFACE!! YOU’RE IN NO POSITION TO CALL THE FUCKIN’ SHOTS!! MY ORDERS ARE TO FUCKIN’ TEASE THE SHIT OUT OF YOU TILL THE FUCKIN’ COWS COME HOME AND THAT’S JUST WHAT I’M GONNA DO!!! YEAH, THAT’S RIGHT, SHIT-FOR-BRAINS, MY ENGLISH SHE’S-A SUDDENLY BETTER ISN’T IT, ASSHOLE? THAT’S RIGHT I STUDIED IN THE STATES BEFORE I RETURNED TO MY HOMELAND TO PROTECT IT FROM A CIA-SPONSORED INSURRECTION! THIS IS GONNA BE EXTRA FUN FOR ME, DIPSTICK, SO KEEP YOUR FUCKIN’ BIG MOUTH SHUT!! AND IF ANYONE’S ASS IS GETTING BEAT IT’S GONNA BE YOUR DESERVING LITTLE CIA BUTT, FUCKFACE, UNDERSTAND?? THE MORE YOU RUN OFF AT THE MOUTH, THE WORSE YOU’RE GONNA GET IT , NUMB-NUTS!! YEAH GONNA BE FUN, SPANK YOUR HOT LITTLE CIA BUTT THEN TEASE YOU REPEATEDLY TO THE BRINK OF ORGASM!!! READY FOR THE RIDE, HOTSHOT???” crowed Hassan, as he felt his own legendarily oversized cock rise unexpectedly from the sheer power he felt over his deserving victim. Hmm, maybe the night’s session would include a forced blowjob by the re-blindfolded CIA agent, who knows? m used the horny Hassan, his luxuriantly pubed loins girding for the long night (and days) ahead, as he surreptitiously stroked his strong, richly veined uncut cock which lurched hugely in his white linen houseboy uniform, threatening to burst right through the thin material. As an exuberant drop of Azerbajani sweat trickled out of Hassan’s manly, profusely-haired armpits, Hassan further mused about the possibility of also forcing the strutting hotshot American spy to lick out his armpit sweat as well, promising the CIA agent that he would be freed if he did so, only to renege, laugh heartily and then keep driving James to near-orgasm anyway!. Hassan also eyed the discarded candle. Hmm, could make the pompous spy suck on that, stick it up his virgin asshole while I tickle and tease his equipment! Should be fun!

James was left with no options but to pathetically groan and writhe futilely in his bondage, his immense hard-on swaying mightily as his sturdy, unsatisfied fuckstick trembled and pulsed with desire as if to say, as James’ cock might well say if it could talk “Hey what the fuck happened here? Get me the fuck off now, asshole!”

James groaned louder as he saw Hassan approach the CIA agent’s cock and balls with the feathers again, now openly stroking the front of his pants, James’ eyes bugging as he made out the outline of what looked like it must be the biggest horsecock James had ever seen! No, he wouldn’t make me do anything with that…or do anything to me with that??? Surely not…..James hoped, as he groaned again and his cock lurched some more. “Oh holy fuckin’ shit!” thought James miserably. Will I ever get to cum again???

********

Meanwhile, back in the master bedroom of the dacha, Count Nicolai Romanoff and Viscount Sergei Romanoff were all over the lovely Svetlana, kissing her roughly and burying their faces in her tits, treating her roughly like the whore they considered her to be, practically tearing her Nolan Miller gown right off of her as they hornily devoured her.

Svetlana managed to coo at them to “save eet for the main event, gentlemen, please” as she laughed good-naturedly, cooing that the noblemen needed to disrobe themselves so that they could all get underway.

This apparently presented a problem. Both the Count and Viscount looked around sheepishly, even in the Count’s own bedroom. The Russian nobility in general and the jet-setting Russian nobility like the Romanovs in particular, could not be too careful where royal nudity was concerned. Both the Count and Viscount were very careful not to be caught with their pants down whenever there was a possibility of a telephoto lens and an eager tabloid reporter around. The Count and Viscount had had a good laugh at another Russian jet-setting royal’s expense when he had been caught sunbathing nude and frolicking with two nubile blondes (not his wife) in the Crimea in a supposedly private, secluded villa. His naked, rampant, if unspectacular, royal genitalia and bare ass was revealed to the entire world in tabloid and Internet sites around the world, to the arrogant playboy’s undying embarrassment and shame. Worse, people later wrote in to say that this royal’s “royal wee” was not all it was cracked up to be by the Russian playboy himself, that he was shorter than the average Russian bear, as it were. Worse still, the hidden photos revealed that this nobleman regularly stuffed the crotches of his tight pants and bikini trunks to make his “royal wee” look bigger than it was. That particular nobleman never had lived down the shame. When he entered the latest trendy nightclubs on the Cote d’Azur, the photographers were as likely as not to focus on the crotch of his expensive trousers rather than his face, with knowing looks, noting that the tight pants with their padded crotches had been replaced by the baggiest of trousers; if they got any baggier the nobleman would be accused of being a street gang-banger!

Convinced they were safe in their own home, however, the horny Count and Viscount began to eagerly disrobe, suddenly feeling the need to free themselves of their constricting riding outfits, eager to romp in the nude before this brazen whore, their big royal cocks and hairy Cossack balls swinging freely and with careless abandon, eager to show off in front of the other royal and Svetlana who was the stronger, the manlier royal. Shit, the Count and Viscount were so nudity-conscious since that story broke that neither cousin had ever seen the other totally naked before!

Little did the Count and Viscount know that Svetlana, in reality a part-time tabloid reporter herself, had conspired with Grigori and Ivan, that Ivan had already set up a hidden video camera in the Count’s bedroom which was already recording and would continue to record. Svetlana and her two hunks Grigori and Ivan, would be fabulously rich between the tabloid money and the blackmail bribes. They could release photos frame by frame for a price, sell them to the highest bidder, not to mention the blackmail power they would have over the Count and Viscount for other things- a healthy cut of the black market business, for starters. But first, for the fun!

Count Nicolai and Viscount Sergei threw off their clothes with boyish abandon, eager to romp in the nude with this beautiful, if not out-of-the top-drawer (in their view) woman, the two royals throwing their riding gear into a tangled heap on the floor till they were each down to their Calvin Klein briefs. Both Nicolai and Sergei were excellent physical specimens, their suntanned well-defined torsos boasting generous amounts of jet-black body hair, their royal washboard abs and cute innie navels split by fine lines of jet-black hair that disappeared into their shorts, their luxuriant dark pubic bushes slightly visible through the sheer cotton of their shorts.

The noblemen then yanked down their Calvins simultaneously, their royal half-hard cocks springing out lustily over their huge hairy Cossack bull-balls and their bare white asses split by a dark line of royal assfur.

Viscount Sergei suddenly clapped his hands over his privates from force of habit, Sergei announcing that they should check the room for hidden devices, “what if the peasant bitch intends to film us secretly, Cousin Nicolai?” “Do not worry, cousin, look, see how Count Nicolai, your superior royal, take his penis in his royal hand how he shakes it, spins it around, jerks it, how it grows, expands with royal desire, how Count Nicolai scratches his royal hairy Cossack balls, teasing the hot, royal sperm within! Yes, Count Nicolai is free, Count Nicolai is horny, Count Nicolai is going to fuck this bitch! Are you afraid you will not measure up, Sergei, is that why you are so shy?” queried Count Nicolai, Svetlana thanking her lucky stars; those shots of renowned international playboy Count Nicolai Romanov twirling and jerking his royal cock and balls already surpassed the prior tabloid scoops of the other, more minor Russian noble, not to mention the added plus of raunchy royal dialogue! And these won’t be grainy far-off telephoto shots either, now will they?

Blushing with anger and embarrassment, Viscount Sergei dropped his hands, revealing his crotch again, shaking and jerking his equally impressive royal cock and scratching his own royal hairy balls, even turning around, bending over and revealing his fur lined asscrack grabbing his bare white asscheeks and spreading them wide, revealing his hair-encircled royal virgin asshole and telling Count Nicolai “Kiss my ass, Nicolai, for I am the younger, the stronger, the nobler; it’s unlikely a man of your age will be able to achieve an erection!! Ha ha!” as the cocky royal followed this with a deliberately loud, fragrant caviar and champagne fart directed toward the shocked red-faced with anger, Count Nicolai.

Svetlana was eating this all up. This was better than she could have hoped for already. Svetlana decided to say “Now now, my royal he-men!!! Let Svetlana decide who “measures up” best as a lover for Svetlana, hmmm??? First, let Svetlana examine your royal ‘firmaments’ close together, yes??” as Svetlana smoothly approached the two naked noblemen, only to suddenly have them both stand hip to hip and take both of their royal cocks in her long satin evening-gloved hands, jerking the two royal cocks together with her talented hands, as Count Nicolai and Viscount Sergei sighed with pleasure and went weak at the knees with lust, each secretly getting an unexpected extra thrill from the fact that both of their cocks were sliding against the other, the younger and older royal cousins getting secretly turned on by the friction of the other’s red-hot royal fuckstick sliding against their own.

Svetlana announced that they were equally good cocksmen as far as she could tell but that it would really turn her on, really be excellent foreplay for her and for the royals, if the Count and Viscount settled their dispute by fighting over who would get to fuck her first, before they all dissembled into an orgiastic three-way. Why didn’t the two noblemen wrestle each other in the nude, winner takes all for the first round, then they would all have a nice three-way as planned?

Viscount Sergei particularly liked this idea; he was sure that as the younger and stronger Romanoff he would have his cousin pinned nude in no time, Sergei even upping the stakes saying “Yeah, cousin, what do you say we wrestle for first dibs on Svetlana, and the loser gets fuckin’ tied up, then the loser has to watch the other screw the bitch while he is left out of it? You ready to be tied up Nicolai, huh, old man?” crowed the youthful self-important young Viscount, smiling smugly in anticipation, his cock jerking from the thought of topping his own royal cousin like that.

“No problem, cousin, but it will you who will be watching from the tied up position my friend!” replied Count Nicolai, rolling out an expansive padded wrestling mat kept in the adjoining private gymnasium. “But just to make it more of a challenge I propose that we wrestle in oil as the Ancient Greeks did, said Count Nicolai as he squirted his cousin Viscount Sergei with baby oil, Sergei following suit and squirting baby oil back onto Count Nicolai’s naked royal body.

Soon Count Nicolai and Viscount Sergei were wrestling wildly on the mats stark naked, their hairy baby-oiled Cossack balls and rampant and ever-growing royal cocks rubbing together as they did so, each slapping the other’s oily ass, pulling each royal dude’s hairy oily suntanned legs in the air revealing their baby-oil-filled asscracks, the royals slipping and sliding all over the place as they grunted and strained with the effort and tried to retain a footing in the slippery oil, more difficult than either had imagined. Each forced the other to sniff and lick out the other’s hairy sweaty royal armpits as Svetlana squealed and rooted both on.

Finally, Count Nicolai announced that the final decisive round of the wrestling match would be fought on fresh dry mats, both Count and Viscount departing to briefly shower off the oil and return with the dry replacement mats, only for them to wrestle with a fury, each dominating the other for a period only for the other to top the other royal.

To Viscount Sergei’s surprise and horror, his older cousin, Count Nicolai soon had him by his struggling royal arms which he pinned behind the Viscount, wrestling him up onto the bed, only to tie the struggling younger stud’s wrists behind his outraged incredulous head, Viscount Sergei’s hairy armpits totally revealed, then tying his ankles to the lower bedposts until the proud spoiled-brat Viscount Sergei was spread-eagled naked on the Count’s bed, shouting profanity and demanding loudly that he be released immediately, that Count Nicolai had cheated.

Svetlana cheered “Oh, Count Nicolai, you won, you won!!! What a strong Cossack my Nicolai is!,” Svetlana tickling Count Nicolai’s hairy Cossack balls with her satin evening-gloved hand for encouragement, and saying “But, oh, before we begin the festivities in front of poor, horny Sergei, Svetlana would so like to see Nicolai teach his young playboy cousin a lesson, show him that it is yourself who is still Lord and Master of the dacha, not him! Svetlana thinks he is long overdue for a spanking on his spoiled-brat backside for starters, perhaps with that riding crop over there, yes? And then perhaps my big, strong, hairy Cossack Nicolai, whose sturdy loins obviously are filled with all the strength of the Cossacks of the Steppes of Russia as my Nicolai has more than amply demonstrated,” Svetlana whispering into Nicolai’s ear now, “Perhaps my big, strong Nicolai could give our Sergei a taste of what the American spy endured recently, could it be, perhaps, that our Sergei may be a little ticklish, too, hmmmm???” causing a broad evil smile to develop on Count Nicolai’s handsome face, the egotistical playboy Count Nicolai eating up all the “big, strong, hairy Cossack” stuff as expected, the Count unconsciously jerking his royal penis and scratching his Cossack balls at the thought of spanking and tickling the spoiled Viscount.

Accordingly, while Viscount Sergei shrieked and cursed and ordered Count Nicolai that “you will do no such thing, Count Nicolai! Remember I too am royalty!!! It is unbecoming and unfitting to even contemplate such an action!! I am too old to be spanked like a child!!! Listen to reason!!! ” Nevertheless, Count Nicolai soon had released the Viscount’s ankles only to raise them high over his head, revealing the young spoiled-brat Viscount’s cute white bubble butt and dark assfur, whereupon Count Nicolai began thrashing the Viscount’s bare, hopelessly upturned vulnerable little royal ass, striping it with blows and causing it to glow flaming fire engine red as the spoiled incredulous Viscount shrieked, cursed, and begged Count Nicolai to stop, which only made Nicolai raise his suntanned muscular arm higher in the air totally revealing his own hairy armpit before he thrashed down even harder on the hysterical Viscount who had never been spanked in his royal life even by his nanny when he was a decidedly naughty boy! The Viscount continued to howl in outraged unaccustomed pain, the spoiled Viscount reducing to sobbing tears as his ass was cut to shreds. And there was a riding event tomorrow! How could he bounce along on his white stallion before his admiring fellow jet-setting celebrity crowd with his ass cut to ribbons?? For the piece de resistance, the Count landed a final blow directly across the young Viscount’s furry asscrack and against his hair-encircled royal virgin asshole as the outraged Viscount yelped in pain, tears in his eyes. What a great tabloid pic!

Count Nicolai then re-bound the Viscount’s hairy ankles to the lower bedposts, laughing as the Viscount winced when his own full weight rested back on his flaming royal backside. Nicolai also derided Sergei because Sergei’s royal penis was half-hard despite his punishment, only to grow all the harder when the Count’s scrabbling fingers suddenly danced into one of Sergei’s exposed hairy, sweating armpits, eliciting a shocked squeal of torment from the spoiled royal playboy, as Sergei flinched and tried to pull his exposed hairy armpit away, Sergei gasping and screeching in agony as his ticklish, sweaty royal armpit was mercilessly tickled by his royal cousin, Count Nicolai delving his other tickling hand into Sergei’s other royal armpit, Nicolai sadistically digging in to the moist, hairy flesh of the spoiled brat’s underarms, as his younger royal cousin reacted spasmodically to the tickling sensations, Sergei screeching breathlessly to “STOPPP!!! YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME!!!! I AM A RUSSIAN NOBLEMAN!!! STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!!!! AIEEEEEE!!!HAHAHAAHAHAHAAH!!! OH NOOOOOOOO!!!! STOPPPPPP!!! CUT IT OUTTT!!!! LET ME CATCH A BREATH!!!!! ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!!! STOPPPP HELPPPPP!!!”

The naked Count Nicolai then really dug his scrabbling fingers into the Viscount’s helplessly exposed hairy armpits, straddling the spoiled brat’s naked mid-section, then raking his fingers down the Viscount’s struggling, writhing body, tweaking the Viscount’s hair-encircled tits, then sliding his fingers down over Sergei’s ticklish ribs and sides, only to plunge a finger into the spoiled playboy’s innie navel and subject him to several minutes of intense belly-button tickling, causing the Viscount to approach delirium, and forcing him to develop a rock-hard royal boner. Count Nicolai commented derisively on the rampant state of the horny young Viscount’s royal fuckstick, Nicolai deliberately brushing his own naked royal backside against its throbbing length, forcing the Viscount’s hard prong to slap noisily against the firm cheeks of Count Nicolai’s own humpy royal butt, the slightly wiry hairs of the Count’s lightly hair-flecked royal assmounds providing extra teasing to the Viscount’s pulsing prickhead as it slid helplessly against his cousin’s tight little royal bubble butt.

As Svetlana egged Count Nicolai on, telling him what a stud he was, what manly Cossack balls he had to exact such a punishment on his spoiled cousin for her entertainment, Count Nicolai then proceeded to attack Viscount Sergei’s helplessly exposed bare feet, alternately running his fingers, feathers, and a nail file all up and down the exposed, cringing soles of the arrogant, spoiled playboy’s bare wiggling feet, between his flexing royal toes and in-between them, causing the Viscount to pull on his bonds, screech, beg, scream and do the Russian nobleman boogie all over the bed, Sergei going “AIEEEEE!!! NOOOOOO!!!!! NOT MY FEEEEETTTTT!!!! NO!!!!! NOT THERE!!!! OH MY GAWDDDDD!!!!! STOPPPPP!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!!! ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!! AIEEEEEEEEE!!!!! OH FUCKKKKKK!!!! DAMNNNNNN!!!! NO STOPPPP!!!! PLEASE STOPPPP!!! I’LL DO ANYTHING, LET YOU FUCK THE WHORE FIRST, ASSHOLE , JUST STOPPPPPP!!!!”

After several more minutes of intense upper body and foot torture the young Viscount was red-faced and exhausted. Count Nicolai then announced that not only would he go first with the lovely Svetlana, but also Nicolai would fix it so that the Young Viscount’s sperm ducts were so drained that he would not be able to get it up for Svetlana afterward. Laughing evilly as he suddenly approached the incredulous Sergei, Count Nicolai proceeded to again free the Viscount’s hairy ankles, only to again re-tie them firmly way above his head, so that Viscount Sergei was doubled over, his big royal cock staring him smack in his handsome royal playboy face, and his hairy asscrack was totally exposed, his tiny pink royal anal rosebud winking helplessly at the entire world, his most private, carefully guarded orifice shamelessly revealed. Little did the Count or Viscount know that this humiliating view would likely grace the cover of one of the steamier European tabloids in the very near future. Think of all the bemused fellow jaded socialites and jet-setters’ faces when they perused the cover shot of the only-too-well-known, cocky, red-faced spoiled playboy being tickle tortured by his equally spoiled royal cousin Count Nicolai, himself stark naked with a half-hard boner, Sergei’s royal virgin asshole totally exposed! Not to mention the later photos which would accompany the article depicting the Viscount’s shocked face dripping with his own royal cum when his royal cousin forced him to shoot repeatedly right into his own shocked face!

Count Nicolai accordingly approached his shamelessly bound royal cousin with two feathers with a sadistic gleam in his sparkling eyes, first displaying the feathers to an approving Svetlana’s amused gaze, then suddenly attacking Viscount Sergei’s exposed hairy pent-up balls and the underside of his sensitive glans and cockhead, wildly teasing the bound royal’s noble balls and causing his royal, baby-making nut-oysters to squirm wildly in his noble nutsacs as his huge prick pulsed and swayed in quivering, helpless response. Viscount Sergei groaned with increasing royal lust, his heavy excited breathing becoming audible throughout the room as his royal plumage was shamelessly teased and aroused, making the squirming playboy’s tongue loll out in lust like the two-bit whore he now was, every fiber of his being now concentrating on the pleasant sensation coursing through his pent-up young loins, the horny horseman’s horsecock pulsating wildly with every teasing, delectable feather stroke of his cousin’s sadistic ministrations.

The evil Count Nicolai then proceeded to tease one feather around the spoiled Viscount playboy’s exposed butthole, the teasing tickling pleasure causing the young Viscount to unwittingly loosen his sphincter muscle and further expose his pink anal rosebud, the virgin orifice begging to have the feather plunged up his royal shitchute with abandon. Count Nicolai obliged, plunging the feather up his shocked royal cousin’s hot virgin butthole; Sergei’s flesh was more than willing but his spirit was not, Sergei protesting loudly when his virginal anal ring was breached by the teasing feather, only to oooo and ahh with pleasure as the damn thing hit his prostate. Worse, Count Nicolai kept teasing Viscount Sergei’s hairy balls and up and down and up and down and back and forth and back and forth the length of his royal weenie, tickling and teasing the sensitive glans and cockhead as the quivering, dripping, fully rampant royal filled with more blood and pulsed with every beat of the Viscount’s dastardly heart.

Count Nicolai kept up this teasing torment for several minutes, often bringing the young horny Viscount to the very brink of an explosive orgasm only to back off again and again as the Count and Svetlana laughed in conspiratorial amusement. Finally, Count Nicolai tickled all of the Viscount’s most sensitive parts simultaneously, teasing the very tip and pee-hole of the spoiled Viscount’s pulsing pecker as he teased his squirming royal balls and tickled and feather-fucked his noble asshole until Viscount Sergei threw back his sweat-drenched head, royal sweat drops splattering off of his handsome head, his royal feet curled up and the Viscount gave a mighty wail from his wide-open mouth, his quivering uvula clearly visible in the back of his throat as he screamed triumphantly and, triggered by one final teasing tickle to the tip of Sergei’s quivering penis, the pee-hole of his royal cock opened up and suddenly spewed forth a solid stream of white-hot royal cum, then shot bolt after bolt of royal cum-rockets, the first volleys hitting the handsome Viscount squarely in his shocked face and the extreme upper portion of his hairy chest due to his bondage position, shooting down his own wide-open throat, into his nostrils, his eyes, his forehead into his hair, Count Nicolai then grabbing Sergei’s still-discharging cock and directing the remaining volleys, which exploding like Fourth of July fireworks, onto the wall behind Sergei, also allowing some of the more volcanic shots to squirt up towards the ceiling before dropping back down onto Sergei and the bedclothes.

Count Nicolai completed this process three more times until the poor Viscount’s royal nuts were completely drained of royal cum and he was shooting pathetic dribbles, then shooting completely dry, covered in rank, though royal, sweat, still bound in his uncomfortable position, Count Nicolai often smacking Sergei’s spoiled brat little butt for emphasis.

Count Nicolai laughed uproariously telling Svetlana she was safe for the evening, that there would now be no three-way because his young cousin, for all his swaggering braggadocio the supposedly studly playboy Sergei now couldn’t get his limp little doodle up no matter how hard he tried, the Viscount was completely drained of ammo, while the proud, strutting Count Nicolai announced that his own royal nut-oysters were squirming in his big, over-filled, hairy Cossack balls, that his torture of his cousin had, if anything, made the Count even hornier than he had been before.

Svetlana cooed and approached the naked Count Nicolai, egging him on saying “Oh, Count Nicolai you have proved that you are strong-like-bull, Svetlana is so impressed with your manly dominance of your younger cousin. How your strong, Cossack heritage has been revealed in your decisive action, ah, yes, I can sense this when I (demonstrating) hold your big, hairy Cossack balls, weigh their strength, feel how your royal semen churns within the soft, corrugated skin of your weighty, manly balls. My Nicolai is such a stud, he puts the royal stallions in his stable to shame tonight, does he not?”

“That is so true, my beautiful whorish wench, come, have a treat, run your tongue all over my studly body, show Nicolai how much you desire his flawless royal body” replied the pompous Count Nicolai.

Svetlana obliged, escorting the naked Count Nicolai over to an elegant day-bed that was set into an elaborately carved wood frame, adjacent to where Viscount Sergei lay exhausted in his bondage. Count Nicolai smugly urged his beaten cousin to watch as the lovely Svetlana worshipped his royal cousin’s perfect body, to watch as Count Nicolai claimed Svetlana as the prize he fought for and won, as usual.

Svetlana eased Count Nicolai onto his back with his strong, muscular suntanned arms lolling back on the day bed in total anticipatory relaxation, exposing his jet-black-haired armpits, whereupon Svetlana proceeded to coo to her “big studly nobleman” and massage his “big muscles” feeling the strength in his bulging, suntanned biceps before swooping down to kiss and worship his hair-circled tits, causing Count Nicolai to gasp in astonished pleasure at the contact, the very touch seeming to send electrical impulses down to his mighty cum-churning Cossack balls. Svetlana teased his tits while she idly stroked the Russian nobleman’s pulsating cock, then plunged her taster into Count Nicolai’s exposed right armpit, teasing his sensitive hairy underarms as the Count scrunged his eyes shut in ecstasy. Svetlana used the same tried and true method she had used on James Vaughan, suddenly extracting a pair of handcuffs and fastening them to both of Count Nicolai’s wrists, then raising them high above his head and attaching them to the elaborate wood frame of the day bed.

“What are you doing, you crazed whore? What kind of game are you playing? Release my noble body this instant or I shall have you horse-whipped, you impudent trollop!! Let me go! I command you in the name of the Romanovs and my mighty Cossack ancestors to release me this instant!!!”

“Hmm in the name of your mighty Cossack ancestors, Count Nicolai? The ancestors whose fiery blood boils in these big, hairy, weighty Cossack balls I now hold my hand, my Lord and Master? The ones I could so easily CRUSH with my bare hands, My Lord?” queried the lovely Svetlana as she squeezed mightily on the bound nobleman’s crown jewels causing him to squeal falsetto like and forcing him to beg for her not to de-ball him, that he had not yet sired his mighty heirs, not to deprive the world of more Romanovs, wincing from the pain and from Svetlana’s blood-curdling evil laugh as she held the mighty Count Nicolai Romanov by his big cum-filled balls.

Svetlana had just summoned Grigori and Ivan to join her in the new festivities. Grigori and Ivan left their extreme tickle torture of General Karishnikov to be completed by Hassan’s fellow servant, Behrouz. Hassan was still having a field day idly cum-denying a straining, begging James Vaughan, James, covered in sex-sweat, staring cross-eyed in disbelief as he was being yet again brought to the brink of orgasm only to be cum-denied yet again by the sadistic, taunting Hassan! Poor James!

Grigori and Ivan brought their special equipment, feathers, toothbrushes, sharp instruments and more candles for weenie, armpit and groin roastings, and displayed them before a cursing, disbelieving Count Nicolai and an equally flabbergasted Viscount Sergei. Both the Count and Viscount loudly protested the arrival of the low-class enlisted men, exclaiming that it was not fitting for low-class subjects to gaze upon the nudity of the nobility, demanding that Grigori and Ivan shoot the whore Svetlana this instant in the name of Mother Russia, but their protests were met with laughter from Grigori, Ivan and Svetlana. Svetlana informed them of the trio’s plot, how their royal bare asses, hard cocks, nude wrestling and all the rest of it were going to be plastered all over the tabloids, that their days of jaded playboy existence were over, that they would be the laughing stocks of the entire world! Count Nicolai’s sudden interest in paying fabulous sums to buy them off were met with further laughter, Svetlana informing the Count that she and Grigori and Ivan would be running the Count’s businesses, that the money would go to them from now on, and the Count and Viscount would have to get “real jobs” that the sewers needed to be cleaned in Moscow and the fall of Communism had opened up opportunities in this fitting profession for them. The Count and Viscount merely sneered their arrogant “as if…..” look. They would pay for that. Dearly.

Grigori and Ivan then set about severely tickle torturing the Count and Viscount, roasting their royal privates with candles, yanking on their royal pubic hair, spanking them, and tickle torturing them to repeated forced orgasms all night long.

The next morning, Grigori and Ivan forced Viscount Sergei to dress in full riding regalia once again, then marched him at shotgun-point to the royal stables. The royally mistreated stable hands were pleasantly dumbfounded when the protesting Viscount was placed into gravity boots and hung upside down from one of the portable steel frames they had moved from the house. They left scissors, clipping shears, razors, riding crops, feathers, toothbrushes, candles and an array of sharp and tickling instruments of torture for the eager, grinning stable hands. The stable hands eagerly scissored off the shrieking Viscount’s riding regalia till he was bare-assed naked hanging upside down, the stable hands collectively jeered and hooted and yanked and swatted the denuded, detested royal’s cock and balls, then spanked and whipped his royal spoiled-brat ass with the riding crops, then went to work shearing and razoring off all of his body hair and even the hair on his head till he was bald, then proceeded to tickle torture and tease the Viscount to further unwanted orgasms. This too was videotaped for posterity.

Hours later, an anonymous tip to the local police resulted in the General, Count, Viscount and James Vaughan being found tied up naked, the police concluding it was just the result of another jaded party of the aristocracy. The ever-efficient Matthew of the U.S. Embassy had an Embassy limousine travel to the dacha to collect him and personally accompanied a sheepish James Vaughan back to the Embassy, James demanding that Matthew not disclose James’ embarrassing incident “or else”.

EPILOGUE

What James Vaughan did not know was that in James’ absence Matthew had “come out” to the Embassy and there had been no ill effects, only positive ones. Matthew was free of his “secret” and had nothing to fear from James Vaughan. More the other way around, as James soon learned, now that Matthew knew what happened at the dacha and had obtained a video of James’ ordeal to hold over him.

A naked and cock-caged James Vaughan knelt on the Embassy floor before a fully clothed but bare-footed Matthew, Matthew ordering James to “get in there and sniff those feet, asshole, I haven’t got all day! Go ahead, let me hear you sniff my stinking feet after a long day’s work! That’s right! Go ahead, lick my fuckin’ feet, asswipe! Then you can lick me all over, fuckface! If you’re a good boy, asshole, I just might let you out of your cock cage,” continued Matthew, eyeing James’ pulsating boner as it lay trapped within his cock cage chastity belt, “Let’s see, how long has it been since you shot a load, dude, weeks isn’t it? Does little James want big Matthew to fix it so hissums can shoot his big, nasty, load, huh, does he, does he?? What do you say, asswipe?” taunted Matthew as James begged him abjectly to do so, followed by “Please, Yes, Sir, Master, King!”

Sneering sadistically, Matthew then pulled a surprised James over to the heavy couch where Matthew had been sitting and tightly tied James’ arms to one of the heavy carved legs of the couch with Matthew’s necktie so that James’ hairy armpits were totally exposed, then took the key to the cock cage and suddenly released James’ throbbing boner.

Matthew then teased James’ incredibly cum-denied cock and balls with his bare feet and toenails, again and again bringing James to the brink of orgasm, only to back off again and again.

Matthew then approached James with a single tapering feather, grinning sadistically. James groaned hugely, cross-eyed with desire as his cock lurched, quivered and swayed in frustration. “Hmm this could take days, James, maybe longer. Should be fun!!” said Matthew grinning evilly like a villain in a stage play, as he idly trailed the feather over James’ flaring nostrils as he teased James’ hairy sweaty armpits with his toenails, deliberately annoying the shit out of the frustrated CIA agent, James’ cock pulsing and swaying as if to say “not the nose, not the pits, me, me, tickle meee!!!” to no avail. James groaned yet another pathetic groan of agonizing sexual frustration, the first of many more to come in his miserable, newly revised life.

THE END

Richard

2 Comments

  1. Avatar of adrk

    adrk - November 1, 2014, 12:08 pm

    such a talent u r Richard ! thank you

  2. Avatar of scotts60143

    scotts60143 - May 15, 2015, 9:31 pm

    I have always thought this is one of the BEST stories on the net!!

Leave a Reply