Submission (30 page)

Clenching his fists, he swore to bring Fowler to justice. He'd known of the bastard's evil ways all too well and cursed himself for not acting earlier. But he'd never imagined that he'd smuggle the girls out of the country - especially Hannah.

'How do you know all this?' he finally asked, his forehead lined with worry.

'I can't explain now, there's no time. Fowler's obviously going to meet the ship when it docks - you must do something!'

'When it docks where? South America is a big place! And which ship? Where did it depart from?'

'I don't know!'

'Then what can I do? Look, call me later, after I've had time to think. I've already got too many problems. With my new laws being announced on TV tonight, I'm going to be busy, I can tell you!'

'What laws?'

'Never you mind.'

'But I do mind! Your laws affect me. I'm a women, remember? And you're anti-women!'

Distractedly running his fingers through his hair, Evans switched the videophone off and walked to the window. Fowler had gone too far this time - but he feared there was little he could do. The man had caused more problems than the EFW, he reflected. And now he was planning to abscond, leaving a mountain of trouble in his wake! Petitions demanding the release of the resistance group members had been arriving at Evans's office almost daily. But amnesty, he now decided, would reveal the awful truth that several of the prisoners had vanished. How could he explain their disappearance to their friends and relatives? Questions would be asked, awkward questions to which he'd have no answers. To point the finger of blame at Swain wasn't the answer, he knew. The buck stops here, he thought, gazing at his huge swivel chair.

Moving back to his desk, he called the centre.

'Yes, Mr Evans?' Smith answered.

'Where's Fowler?'

'I haven't seen him for some time, sir.'

'I know that he's still in the country, Smith! And I know that he's shipping a container load of prisoners to South America! Now, will you tell me where he is, or shall I have you arrested?'

'I honestly don't know where he is, sir.'

'Is Swain there?'

'No, no, she's out.'

'I'm coming over to the centre to deal with this personally, Smith! Wait for me there!'

Leaping down the steps to the basement, Smith found Fowler tying Swain to the table. 'Evans is on to you!' he warned, panting for breath.

'Is he coming here?'

'Yes, he's on his way! He knows about the container, and that you're still in the country!'

'Don't panic. It'll be at least an hour before he gets here. And an hour is all I need to make this fat lesbian talk!' Turning back to Swain, Fowler pulled the chains down from the ceiling and attached them to her ankles. 'Now, Swain, where are my girls?'

'I let them go - Evans told me to! Ask Smith, he was there when Evans told me...'

'He did order her to release all the prisoners, Ron. But she swore to me that she'd never let them go.'

'Come on, Swain, talk, or I'll...'

Moving to the control box on the wall, Fowler pressed a button and grinned as Swain's legs were lifted up and apart, exposing her gaping crack, her splayed buttocks. He'd miss the centre, the table of lust, the whips and chains, he reflected. But he'd create a new basement where he could use his girls all day, every day, where he could live out his life of perversion.

'Right!' Fowler yelled as he opened a cupboard. 'I'm going to try out one or two of my little, or I should say,
big
devices!' Grabbing a metal cylinder, he sat between Swain's open thighs and peered into her huge vagina. 'This should be interesting,' he laughed, forcing the cylinder between her bloated vaginal lips, into the depths of her wet hole.

Swain gasped as the cylinder opened her vaginal sheath and forced its way deep into her quivering body. 'And now for your bottom-hole!' Fowler spat, his pig eyes afire with evil.

'No, don't!' Swain cried, struggling to sit up.

'But you've never had a man screw your bottom-hole, you told me that yourself.'

'No, I don't like men... No, please, Ron!'

'Where are my girls?' Fowler demanded as he pulled out his rampant erection and pressed his hard knob between her open buttocks.

'I can't tell you! Ah, no, please!'

As the head of his penis located her tiny hole and slipped into the heat of her bowels, Fowler breathed a sigh of satisfaction. 'How does it feel?' Smith asked, joining in the debauchery by taking her thick outer pussy lips between his fingers and thumbs and pulling them up and apart to expose her clitoris. Protesting wildly, Swain could do nothing to protect her virginal bottom-hole as Fowler pushed his shaft to the hilt and rested it there. Pushing the metal cylinder into her wet sheath, he began to slip his penis in and out of her bottom, causing her to plead for her freedom again.

'You like it don't you?' Fowler taunted as he quickened his fucking motions.

'I hate it! I hate men!' Swain hissed.

'Tell me, what do you do when you masturbate? Do you use a dildo? Do you push a dildo into your bottom-hole and masturbate?'

'I'll get you for this, Fowler! And you, Smith!'

'Of course you will!' Fowler laughed. 'But, in the meantime, think yourself lucky to have my cock buried in your hot bum.'

Ramming harder, Fowler grimaced as his penis swelled and twitched with the coming of his climax. Pulling her vaginal lips further apart, Smith gazed at the distended, glistening pink flesh hugging the end of the cylinder. Grinning as he watched Fowler's thick shaft slipping into the tight brown hole below her crudely opened vagina, he urged him to fill it with his sperm.

'I will come inside her!' Fowler gasped, ramming even harder. 'I'm going to pump her bottom-hole with come until she overflows - and then you can use her for your pleasure.'

Grunting his gratification, Fowler contorted as his penis ballooned within her tight anal sheath and pumped out its sperm, lubricating their debauched union, filling her bowels with his male come. Swain hissed and spat her expletives as Fowler made his last orgasmic thrusts and drained his heavy balls before slipping his spent organ from the heat of her trembling body.

'You're not as good as the young girls, Swain,' Fowler mocked. 'Your cunt's slack, but your bottom's all right, I suppose.'

'I'll kill you, Fowler!' Swain cried.

'Yes, yes, I know. Now, where are my girls?'

'I'll not tell you anything, you bastard!'

'Okay, then I'll just have to stretch you open until you talk, or split in two, whichever comes first.'

'Let me fuck her now,' Smith said eagerly, pulling his long thick penis from his trousers.

'She's all yours,' Fowler said generously. 'But first, let me make an adjustment.'

Slipping the cylinder from Swain's vagina, he presented the rounded tip to her bottom-hole and pressed. 'This is going to open you up nicely,' he chuckled as the cylinder slipped past her tight ring. Gasping, Swain wiggled her hips but could do nothing to halt the thick piston as it pushed its way deep into her tightening tube to fill her bowels.

With only the tip of the metal cylinder protruding between her splayed buttocks, Smith stood between her legs and thrust his penis deep into her quivering pussy. 'She
is
slack!' he endorsed as he thrust into her with a vengeance. Pushing his fingers alongside his penis, he smiled. 'That's better, much tighter!' he gasped, forcing his fingers deeper into her cavern.

Fowler squeezed and pulled on Swain's long nipples as Smith rammed her chained body for all he was worth. Moving his attention down to her fleshy outer quim lips he stretched them apart, gazing at Smith's glistening shaft as it thrust in out of her consumed hole.

'You'll never get away with this!' Swain warned as he pulled her cunt lips further apart.

'We
are
getting away with it!' he returned, massaging her huge clitoris.

'Coming!' Closing his eyes and thrusting the swollen head of his penis harder against Swain's cervix, Smith heralded his approaching climax. 'Ah! I'm coming!'

Gushing from his cocktip's slit, the copious sperm bathed the walls of the dyke's vaginal chasm. Making half-a-dozen hammering thrusts, Smith filled the lesbian prisoner with sperm until she overflowed. As he withdrew his sodden penis the creamy offering ran down between her buttocks to mingle with Fowler's sperm before dripping to the floor.

'Doesn't she look a sight!' Fowler grinned, eyeing the woman's inflamed outer lips. Zipping up his trousers, Smith agreed.

'A sorry state indeed. But what next, to make her even more colourful?'

'I intend to open up her cunt until it tears!' Fowler laughed, taking a metal device from the cupboard. Moving between Swain's legs, he focused his gleaming eyes on her gaping slit. 'I've never used this before,' he said, wielding the device under her nose. 'By moving this lever, it expands to about four times its original size. It will open your cunt up until you split!'

Pushing the gadget deep into Swain's vagina, Fowler moved the lever slowly. The woman cried out as the walls of her sperm-sodden vagina stretched. 'No, please!' she begged as Fowler moved the lever a little more. 'I can't take it!'

'Where are my girls?' Fowler leered, grinning wickedly at Swain's taut pussy lips.

'I won't tell you!'

'Then you'll have to endure more,' he grunted, moving the lever again.

Her vaginal opening now four inches across, Swain contorted her face and begged for mercy as Fowler merely repeated his question. 'All right!' she finally conceded. 'I'll tell you where they are!' Pulling the device from her gaping vagina, Fowler grinned.

'I thought you'd come to your senses,' he smirked, slipping the cylinder from her aching bottom-hole. 'So, where are my girls?'

Swain lay on the table trembling, panting as her holes slowly contracted. 'I... I'll tell you where they are if...'

'There are no "ifs", Swain!' Fowler blasted, presenting the device to her gaping vaginal entrance again.

'All right! They're at a friend's house, not far from your place.'

'The address?'

'Browning Road. Thirty-two Browning Road.'

'Thank you. As Evans will be here shortly, I'd better be going,' he said, turning to Smith.

'What the hell do I tell Evans? How do I explain this?' Smith asked, waving his hand at Swain's naked body.

'Dump her somewhere, for all I care. Anyway, it's your problem, not mine.'

'Thanks a lot!'

'Let me go, and I'll say nothing,' Swain pleaded.

'You must be joking!' Fowler laughed as he climbed the basement steps. 'Well, I'm off to pick up a couple of good-looking girls and then I'll be on my way to South America - bye!'

Swain looked to Smith for some compassion as Fowler slammed the door shut. But he only stared at her, wondering what to do with her, how to explain things to Evans.

'What do you want out of life?' Smith eventually asked, moving nearer to the table.

'That's an odd question,' Swain replied. 'Money, freedom, that sort of thing, I suppose - why?'

'There may be a way out of this mess,' Smith said thoughtfully.

'There is! It'll be dark soon. Let me go and we can disappear into the night before Evans gets here!'

Deep in thought, Smith ran a finger up Swain's wet slit and circled her clitoris. Looking down between her breasts, he gazed at the caressing finger before lying back and closing eyes. Noticing her clitoris hardening, Smith smiled.

'We could always go to South America,' he suggested tentatively.

'We could,' Swain agreed. 'I'd like that very much.'

Moving to the wall and pressing the button on the control box, Smith lowered Swain's legs before releasing her body.

'We'll have to hurry.' he said as Swain climbed from the table and dressed. 'Evans will be here soon and... Did you hear something?'

'No.'

'Someone's upstairs. Shit! I reckon it's Evans!'

Bounding up the steps to the corridor, Smith ran straight into Evans. 'Er... Mr... Mr Evans,' he stammered.

'Smith! Where is everyone? Where's Swain? And more to the point, where's Fowler?'

Smith glanced nervously at the two armed men standing behind Evans. He knew that he'd have to say something, explain the situation - but how? Swain emerged from the basement, breaking the awkward silence.

'Mr Evans, I'm glad you're here,' she began confidently. 'I want to talk to you about...'

'Did you release the prisoners?' Evans growled.

'Yes, I did.'

'I have a list of their names and addresses, Swain. I think I'll check to ensure that they all returned safely to their homes.'

'Of course, Mr Evans. We were just clearing up here, and then we were going to lock up the centre.'

Turning to his armed men, Evans ordered them to lock Smith and Swain in the cells for temporary safekeeping. Realizing that she had to come up with some answers as she was frogmarched down the corridor, Swain attempted to tell Evans that she might know of Fowler's whereabouts.

'My instinct tells me that you're a liar! Until I've checked that the prisoners are all safely home, you'll stay locked up here!' the dictator responded sternly. Banging the cell door shut, the armed men turned the key and accompanied their governor out of the building.

'That's bloody great!' Smith exploded. 'Now we're really in for it!'

'We should have grassed on Fowler!' Swain complained. 'This is all his fault! All this business of taking girls abroad has ruined everything! I should have done away with him on the many occasions that I had the chance, instead of letting things go this far. Time after time I've had the opportunity to get the bastard out of the way - permanently!'

'It's no good going on about it now, is it?'

'No, you're right. We'd better start thinking along the lines of escaping, I suppose. This is the second bloody time I've been locked in this cell! Oh, how I wish I could get my hands on that Hannah Kelley! I'd kill the little bitch!'

'Why her?'

'Because she's caused me more trouble than the rest of them put together!' Fowler had no qualms about kicking in the back door of number 32 Browning Road when he arrived. The lock broke and the door swung open as a young girl wearing only a dressing gown came running down the hall. Fowler gazed in awe at her pretty face, her full lips, her deep blue eyes, her long golden hair.