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Condemned (Jurgen von Stuka)

Condemned by Jurgen von Stuka

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Okay Guys. Drop your sox and let go of your….ah, luggage.

That evil Bastard, Emil Brillcart, isn’t dead and Bibi and Jean are on his trail once again. If you liked AFTER SCHOOL or COURIERS, this is the next chapter in the tale of Europe’s most famous slaver and the private detectives who are out to get him. No holds are barred as Brillcart ravages gorgeous young women who easily fall into his clutches. You might just get the feeling that they wanted all along to be brutally tied, gagged, chained, whipped, hog tied, suspended, entombed and otherwise attended to physically, mentally and sexually by The System.

Consensual? Maybe. But it sure doesn’t seem that way as the two not so clever detectives contemplate their future, hanging chained by their wrists in an old anti-aircraft defense tower in Berlin, while one left over Neo-Nazi officer supervises their interrogation.

It’s Jurgen von Stuka’s latest kinky adventure for heroine detectives Bibi and Jean. Enjoy it and keep your hands where we can see them.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Pink Flamingo Publications    Published: 7 / 2017

No. words: 61628

Style: Bondage/BDSM Thrillers

Available Formats: MobiPocket (MOBI)  EPUB  PDF  MS Reader  This book has a format which can be downloaded to Kindle



For those who are new to this continuing saga of good vs. evil, Emil Brillcart is a highly skilled Swiss watchmaker, but he has other, slightly more twisted interests which make him evil personified. He runs a global human slave network called The System, from his Zurich, Switzerland base.
German detective Bibi Wolfe Lynx and her partner, Jean Groff have battled Brillcart over the years and like many villains, just when they think they have him, he slips away to return again carrying out his dastardly schemes on innocent, often unsuspecting young women. Brillcart isn’t stupid and he is a professional grade sadist when it comes to dealing with his unwanted pursuers like Bibi and Jean. For more details, see: THE COURIERS, available from Pink Flamingo or your favorite adult book resource.
Herein is another tale of pursuit and encounters for Bibi, Jean and Mister Brillcart.

Chapter One
Involuntary Recruit

Madeline Worth wasn’t enjoying her $175,000, eight-month world cruise tour very much. When the luxury cruise ship with only four hundred passengers docked for three days at the Russian seaport of Saint Petersburg, nearly everyone went ashore with the official Russian guides and headed for the motor coach that would take them to the city and their less than luxurious hotel. Their arrival was to be celebrated by an extravagant cocktail party and equally flamboyant, eight course dinner prepared by a well-known French Chef.
Madeline, however, didn’t go with them. Although they were only in the second month of the cruise, he was already bored with the company and although she had known from the beginning that most guests on this sort of cruise were well to do older couples and not smart young people who were able to afford it in terms of time and money. She told the tour guide that she wasn’t up for the fancy feast and elected to stay on the ship until later that evening. Then went through security and headed down the gangway, looking for a decent restaurant that might offer some relief from the rich and fancy food served on board. A clean and well-polished black Mercedes taxi waited at the immigration booth and the driver told her in excellent English that he knew of three superb restaurants and would call ahead for make a reservation for her if she wished. Sitting comfortably in the warm, fine leather rear seat of the Mercedes 550S, Madeline told the driver to make a selection for her, asked if her attire would meet the restaurant’s dress code.
“Of course,” he replied with what Madeline thought was an Irish accent. “Relax and try a bit of this,” he said as he poured a light yellow sparkling wine into an elegant crystal tulip glass.
Madeline accepted the glass, sampled the aroma, but didn’t taste it. “What is it?” she asked, having experienced some really terrible wines in the past.
“This is the pride of Russia: Sovetskoye Shampanskoye,” he said. “In the old days, this was a great luxury. Like perhaps the French Roderer Cristal,” he added with a smile.
Madeline sipped a bit and found it better than she expected.
“Not Cristal,” she said. “But pretty good. Lighter, I’d say and with more carbonation.”
“Indeed,” said the driver, turning in his seat and start to pull the car out into the port traffic.
Madeline relaxed into the deep seat. Getting away from the ship and her fellow passengers was a good idea, she thought. The wine was excellent. It wasn’t champagne, but it tasted fine.
Her unabashed driver continued his chatter. “Welcome to Russia, I am Alex, at your service for the evening,” he told her. “Your Amex Card is all I need and the fare will be exactly three hundred US dollars for the night, no matter where we go. Okay?”
“Fine,” said Madeline, thinking that this was a pretty good deal, considering what she had heard about taxis in most ports and in Russian especially. The black sedan pulled away from the pier and headed for the city as snow began to fall.
“Is this your first visit to Mother Russia?” the driver asked.
“Yes. It is,” said Madeline. “I’ve been looking forward to this because I do not trust everything I read and there is so much conflicting information.”
“Yes, that is true. Our own media is as confused as yours, I suppose,” Alex replied.
At some point, they stopped for a traffic light and a man came up to the right side of the car and motioned for the driver to lower the window. Alex did so reluctantly, telling Madeline to remain calm and that this was probably a street person looking for a handout, although the man looked more like military than homeless. The stranger reached in the window, opened the shotgun door and climbed into the cab while the driver protested, but did nothing else when he saw the man flash a leather wallet with some sort of credentials in it. At the same time, another dark figure came to the left side of the car, opened the door next to Madeline and slid into the seat. Madeline saw that it was a woman in a black leather body suit and hood that covered everything but her eyes and that she had a small automatic pistol in her gloved left hand, pointed at the driver’s back, not at Madeline.
“What do you want?” Madeline asked, opening her purse and intending to give the woman whatever small amounts of cash she had in Euros and dollars.
“Only you,” said the first man from the front seat. “Drive. Take the next left and get onto the autobahn. Go west.” he ordered the driver and the cab moved off quickly into the gathering snow storm.
“Lean forward and put your arms behind your back,” the cat-suited woman ordered, swinging the pistol now towards Madeline who complied at once, resting her head on the back of the front seat and hoping this would all end without anyone getting hurt.
“There’s about a thousand Euros there,” she said as the woman grabbed her wrists and wrapped a heavy, hinged, single metal band around them, closing the band tightly and engaging an automatic lock that audibly snapped shut. Madeline’s wrists were closely locked together, palm to palm. The woman then took a second metal band, this one slightly larger; a chromed oval with a flat bar connecting the hinge to the locking part. It was a bisected, slightly flat circle of steel and she placed it on Madeline’s left arm, just below the elbow.
“Bring your arms together,” she said. “I want your elbows to touch.”
“I, I don’t think I can do that,” Madeline said in a shaky voice. She knew this was true only because one of her former and well-to-do British boyfriends had, a few months ago and with her reluctant permission, tied her with expensive, full size, Hermes scarves, using the large silk square to secure her upper arms. The silk was wrapped two or three times around her arms at the elbow and then slowly drawn tight. This took place in a suite at The Savoy, exclusive London hotel, and Madeline remembered her anxious fear about having her arms bound that way. She asked the man, who she knew as Jake, to stop. Instead, he stuffed her sweet mouth with a clean cotton handkerchief and took another huge scarf and tied it into a knot which he stuffed into her protesting mouth as well, to more or less silence her. He pulled the long ends around behind her head, tied it tightly and then brought the ends forward again to cover her eyes. Then pulled off her tight skirt and lacy panties, left the thigh-high hose with the lace tops and raped her, slowly, almost delicately until he discovered that she was not a virgin. Somewhat surprised at this revelation, he then slowly withdrew his rigid cock and slipped a condom on to it. He applied some sort of lubricant to the condom and, rolling her onto her stomach, took her painfully in the ass while Madeline struggled and moaned into the €600 Hermes gag that she knew was worth more than what she made in an hour at her job.
Following the initial awkwardness of this coital encounter, she spent a sleepless night in the hotel bed, additionally bound with his belt and the sashes from two hotel bathrobes. The belt went around her thighs and the bathrobe sashes were used on her ankles and wrists. At intervals during the night he again took her in the back door, by now quite certain that Madeline was on her way to becoming an accomplished, submissive sex toy. At one point, a few hours after midnight, he removed the gag and asked her if she wanted to use the toilet. She shook her head yes. He untied her feet and walked her into the toilet, sat her down on the seat and asked her if she wanted him to leave. She again nodded “yes.” Assuming that she had nothing more to say, he replaced the soaked cleave gag with a more effective large red ball on a leather strap and noted that his captive seemed more than capable of taking the whole ball into her mouth and still making odd, but accepting noises.
In the early morning, the man took out the gag again and asked her if she’d enjoyed the night. Dry mouthed, feeling grossly violated and embarrassed, she only shook her head slowly. Not sure what she had answered, if at all, he asked her if she wanted to stay that way. She nodded her head slowly again, but more emphatically and mumbled that she needed to use the toilet again and take a shower. He tied her tightly to the handicap bars in the shower, left the shower running with warm water and told her he was going out for a shopping trip and would return within the hour.
“Don’t go away,” was his exit line.
Madeline didn’t even struggle against the bonds. Her wrists were tightly fastened to the steel safety bar behind her and her elbows secured close together with fabric torn from a pillow casing. She dozed in the comforting warm water and was nearly asleep, still kneeling in the shower, when her captor/lover returned. He untied her, dried her carefully, rubbing the soft Turkish towels vigorously between her legs and watching the reaction. From a plastic shopping bag he produced a roll of thin, braided nylon line that he used to tie her thumbs together behind her back, leaving a long loop dangling from the knots. When she protested that she was hurting her, he took a rubber exercise ball from the bag and washed it carefully with soap and water and then stuffed it into her mouth, covered it with several layers of black carpet tape and silenced the complaints.
“Get into bed and lie face down,” he ordered, swatting her perfectly rounded rump with the leather loop on a dog chain leash he also apparently just purchased.
Madeline complied, whimpering.
He tied her big toes together more loosely than her thumbs and then pulled her feet back, forcing her to fully bend her knees and slipped the thumb binding loop over her feet and tied it off, creating the first hog tie Madeline had ever experienced. She moaned. He used the scarves again to press the ball deeper into her taped and stretched mouth and to cover her tearful eyes. Asking her cheerfully if she perhaps needed something more, the man reached under her belly and slowly inserted a vibrating dildo into her already damp cunt.
“How’s that?” he asked, laughing. “You keep it in there. Squeeze those muscles tight.” He added. “There’s more.”
There was more. It was a soft plug that she could not see, but felt as he introduced it to her already violated anus, using the same perfumed lubricate to ease it up inside and leaving a short hose trailing out between her thighs.
“Feel that?” he asked.
“Ummm,” Madeline hummed. The plug felt surprisingly good as it seemed to sooth the soreness of the earlier rectal reaming. As she tried to settle herself in the strict hogtie and retain the cunt probe, she felt and heard the man squeeze the rubber bulb at the end of the hose and she felt the inside plug expand. Madeline struggled and whimpered as loud as the gagging ball allowed.
“Relax,” Jake said, gently stroking her buttocks and again squeezing the inflation bulb.
It felt like her ass was exploding. Madeline wiggled and thrashed on the bed, groaning from the expanding plug and the dildo in her cunt as well. The combination was more than she thought she could stand. At some point, he disconnected the inflation bulb and hose, allowing a small amount of air to escape from the interior plug. This provided a modicum of relief and Madeline stopped her struggle.
“Ah,” the man said pleasantly. “I think you need a few more accessories and then we’re done.”
He tied a doubled length of the braided line tightly around her narrow waist and then led the ends down over her flat belly, through her pussy, threading them through a small eye in the base of the dildo and pulling them up through the anal divide, looping the rope around the nipple end of the inflated plug. Then he tugged on the rope, pulled it up and tied it off at the back of the waist rope. This rope harness secured both front and back insertions and Madeline gasped as the rope was tightened and knotted.
“Now,” he said, stroking first her shivering ass cheeks and then her hair, “just a few more additions for you to contemplate.”
“Gnoooo noor,” Madeline murmured through the ball gag.
“No more?” he asked, laughing once again. “No more?”
Madeline grunted and shook her head side to side.
“I see,” he said. “You think that you are in charge, despite the inflated plug up your lovely ass and the thing vibrating inside your cunt? You think you are in charge?”
Madeline just moaned, the vibrator in her pussy an immense distraction. It would calmly message her already sensitized interior flesh and then, without warning, spurt into a faster, more active mode. She realized that this variation was the most stimulating part of the hellish little motor’s action and she tried to anticipate this without success. Her feeble defenses against this automated, mechanical activity in her cunt were useless. She twitched and shook, trying to expel one or both penetrators and soon realized that any motion simply intensified the stimuli.
Her captor busied himself braiding her long hair into a single tight strand that was anchored at the top of her head, not at the back as she might have done in a different situation. He finished the braid with a long strand of the braided nylon line, threading it through the multiple twists of the hair and tugging on it to make sure it was a good, firm anchor for what was to come. Then he took the end and brought it down to the knotted waist and crotch strands at the base of her spine. He pulled her head back slowly, taking out the slack in the rope as it pulled on the crotch line. With her head now back and her face aimed at the ceiling, Madeline whined and struggled to breathe through her nose. The man tied off the hair braid line and tested to make sure that this arrangement kept adequate tension on the twin probes in the girl’s ass and cunt.
The novel hogtie forced Madeline into a cruelly bent bow and her slightly pointed breasts were now off the bed and aimed at the headboard, an opportunity that the man could not ignore. Quickly, while his captive moaned and shuddered from the strict position and the things happening in her lower regions, the man tied loops of the nylon line around each rigid, extended nipple and led the double lines to small rings on the bed’s upper headboard.
How can he keep doing this to me, she thought. I can’t stand any more, but I want more and more. There’s another wave of orgasm coming and he knows it and he keeps adding things so that I am distracted and cannot focus on the coming climax.
This is so unfair. No one has ever done this to me before and by all accounts I should never have let it happen. But now, lying here, stretched out like some gymnast with my pussy digging into the mattress, my breasts aimed at the wall and my head bent back so that if I could see it would only be the ceiling, I cannot stop it. I want, I want more…
Her thoughts trailed off as another rising tide of electric pulses rose from her impaled cunt and inflated rectum and the wave was almost there and coming, still coming with greater intensity. She was sweating madly, the salty liquid pooling on the mattress under her crotch, mingling with the hot secretions from ass and pussy. She squeezed her eyes shut and at the same time squeezed her abdominal muscles and felt the vibrator seemingly increase in intensity…..
“That should do it,” she remembered him saying quietly as he inspected the perfectly posed object of his efforts.
Madeline lay tensely bent at the waist, shuddering, her fingers fluttering, her jaw clamped on the gag, a soft mewing sound emanating from behind the mouth stuffing. She couldn’t have spoken if her mouth was free. Speech was beyond her ability. Everything in her head and body was a jumble of hot sensations coming into her brain at an alarming rate, like a thousand garbled conversations all crossing and re-crossing her mind at once.
He spoke. “How is this all stacking up in your head, little Miss Madeline? Are your still having fun?” Again he talked to her in the same soft voice, stroking her arched back, feeling the cool wetness of her sweat and tracing it down her spine to the crack of her ass and then going into the hot crevasse between the buttocks and touching the ringed end of the anal probe, lightly pushing it further in and feeling her shudder again.
“Good thing the hardware store on the corner had all of the things I needed,” Jake said. “He keeps a sort of ‘erotic shop’ in the back with a locked gate to keep the kids out. That little inflatable thingie up your ass is one of his more creative designs. He calls it “The Porcupine,” and indeed it seems to be a reasonable simulation. What you are feeling are the tiny little spikes that only emerge from the ball when interior air pressure is increased. Totally harmless, but, as I am sure you’ll agree; stimulating to the max.”
They stayed like that for three days, experimenting with all sorts of erotic and common household items used in ways for which they were never intended, extending the room reservation one day at a time and refusing the hotel’s polite but insistent demands that they vacate. Jake took care of this minor annoyance with enough cash to silence the hotel’s front desk and restrict access to the room so that maids would not interrupt the extended assignation the staff suspected was going on, based on the occasional orgasmic screams and the amount of champagne and other alcoholic beverages delivered at odd hours to the pantry just outside the front entry. They carried on for hours like a sex-crazy couple with him feeding her from room service carts left outside the door. Madeline was kept bound, plugged, blindfolded and gagged most of the time, including while they continued to have ragingly erotic sex when he diligently removed only a single penetrator at a time, leaving the duplicate dildoe to provide complimentary sensations to his vigorous, persistent explorations of which- ever of her three available wet and anxious caves availed themselves. It was now clear to both of them that Madeline was totally enamored and addicted to this sort of erotic play. Intelligent and well educated, she knew all too well about fantasy sex but throughout her life had carefully avoided any kind of situation where she might find herself not in full control. By the end of the second day, she was, when the gag was out, enthusiastically suggesting different positions and in that way, asserting her own level of control to what was going on. Her captor, somewhat puzzled by this slow and subtle switch in the tableau, was obliged to revisit the hardware store for some additional accessories, spending more than he ever intended, but knowing that in the long term, the small cost of handcuffs, shackles, a chromed steel collar and some chain and padlocks was a small investment compared to what he expected to get when he turned her over to his controllers. He returned to the hotel room where the young woman remained tied backwards on the toilet, ankles crossed and tied behind the bowl, her hands and elbows well bound behind her and her breasts bound at their base and pulled around the back of the toilet’s plumbing pipes. Her mouth was stuffed full of absorbent panty liners held in place by several strands of rope, knotted behind her head and led down her back and through her plugged crotch.
“What a lovely picture you make,” said the man standing in the open bathroom door studying the helpless bound and gagged young woman who had become his totally willing slave in such a short time.
Madeline gurgled into the dry material stuffing in her rope-distorted mouth, anxious to see what her master had bought. She was pleased and cooperative when he fastened a heavy pair of special hinged handcuffs onto her extended wrists behind her and she even held her arms as close together as she could while he fastened another pair of cuffs on her arms just above the elbow. The steel bands bit into her soft bicep flesh, but Madeline was by now so fascinated and entranced by the pain of the tight metal clamps that she made no complaint. Her mouth drooled constantly and her ass and cunt wept freely, awaiting what she hoped would be another nerve shattering session while immobilized in chains.
What followed once again flooded her mind with memories of books she had read about women who were kept as captives and who often became so inured to the combination of discomfort from restraints and forced sex that everything else faded from memory or interest, their only remaining desire being the need to be tormented and driven further and further into the depraved world of subjugation, bondage; harsh, unexpected discipline and constantly elevating sexual stimulation.
By now, her captor sensed that he had totally lost control. Madeline was now calling the shots, thrusting her hips into him with strength she had not shown a day before, demanding more and more when he tired, wiggling as much as her bonds permitted and pressing him for additional, deeper, harder penetrations, only becoming satiated when he stuffed all three openings in her ripe, sweating body with rubber inflatables or plastic probes of the most grotesque design. Of the electrified devices he used, she found the most complex to be the best in terms of their lasting effects. She became especially fascinated by a huge, battery-powered thing that looked a bit like a small cactus plant with one branch going deep into her ass, the second into her now stretched and accommodating cunt. This second knobby pole had a side branch with two tiny fingers that accurately lined up perfectly with her clitoris and madly twitched and tickled it. The entire mechanism, when loaded with batteries, was inserted into both oozing holes and held there with an intimidating crotch and waist belt that locked into place, holding the plugs and the tickler right where she wanted them to be. The tiny motors on the thing caused brain rattling sensations for Madeline, who was by now addicted to the constant sexual violations of the machine and really had no further sue for Jake. The cuffs on her ankles were chained without slack to the bed frame at the bottom of the huge bed. Her cuffed wrists and elbows were joined by more chain that was in turn pulled roughly through her already occupied crotch and wrapped tightly around the base of each breast and pulled over each shoulder and joined behind her back, forming a steel breast and body harness. The chromed collar was padlocked to more chain that stretched to the bed frame at the headboard and her hair braid was once again pulled back and joined with a short chain to the elbow cuffs. All chains were stretched taunt and Madeline found that there was nearly zero room for any movements other than to wiggle her fingers and toes and rotate her hips as she sought to drive the internal dildoes even deeper.
With ass, cunt and mouth packed and violated by inflation and vibration, a hooded, chained Madeline seemed to withdraw into the sensory vacuum, apparently unaware of the man or the fact that he had finally dropped off into a deep sleep in the bed next to her while she writhed and shuddered with yet another mind-blowing sensual cataclysm.
A few hours later, he removed the inflated gag and asked her if she wanted release.
“On the contrary,” she whispered with a sopping, drooling mouth, as she bent to suck his limp cock, only stopping when he was again fully erect. Looking up at him while she continued to lick and drool, she begged him to use some of the thin twine he brought and bind her breasts tightly, using some of the same thin, braided line to tie her nipples as close together as he could.
“You want the nips tied and pulled together?” he asked, sounding a bit mystified and wondering if her already chain-bound breasts, as firm and tight as they were, could be further abused as she demanded.
“Make loops around the nips,” Madeline murmured in a nearly trancelike voice. “Make them tight and then pull them towards each other. Ignore anything I say or do, because I expect it will hurt a great deal, but I want to look down at them before you put the hood back on me. I want to see them touching each other.”
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, carefully looping the rope around the swollen base of each breast and then pulling the twin nipples to within a few inches of each other.
Thus chained and breast-harnessed, she then begged for yet another “double,” as she called it: a violation with his cock in her ass and a fully inflated dildoe in her cunt. As she promised, the gag was barely enough to control her orgasmic screams as he tugged the twine strands until the twin nipples were actually huddled close together and Madeline was humping madly on the double cocks now inside her.
“Too much?” he asked.
“Nguoog,” came the reply, filtered by a half dozen panty liners and the rope that pulled back her cheeks giving her a rectus expression that would have pleased the most ardent horror film fan. “Eyetur.”
“What?” he asked.
“Essss. Bleeze.”
He took up what little slack remained and then, on a sudden inspiration, bound the two pink extensions together so that Madeline’s breasts were stretched horizontally across her chest and the nipples were united in a twine-enforced union.
She was ecstatic, pumping her captor’s deeply ass-mining dick and squeezing the inflation-hardened rubber violator in her pussy as well.
When it ended, he seemed to be feeling contrite and reminded her that she had agreed to be tied up and that he had not heard any complaints while they were fucking. She began to say that tying her and fucking her were not the same thing, but then he gave her the lovely scarves and apologized.

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