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Taming the Raider	By : BoobsWriter Category: +S through Z > Tomb Raider (all) > Tomb Raider (all) Views: 57851 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Tomb Raider. I do not own Dead or Alive. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
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Taming the Raider

Chapter 13: Back on Track (featuring Tina and Christie from DOA)

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Quick note: whoever asked if they can write some story about Lara blue-balling two guys etc., sure go ahead – any new writers are always welcome and it’s not like I have the monopoly on writing these kinds of stories. Looking forward to reading whatever you come up with.

This latest chapter was 90% complete a month ago, but then some shit got in the way and I’ve only just been able to finish it this afternoon. Maybe the last couple of pages’ writing quality is a little lower, but I figured it’s better to get it out there than have it wasting away on my laptop.

Reviews would be appreciated.

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*BANG!*

Another loud impact vibrated through the frame of Alister's black panel van. The Englishman ignored it, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead as he feverishly typed code into his comms array.

*BOOM!!*

Yet another thunderous strike rattled his nerves. Glancing up at the doors, he saw they were both caving in around the middle now, the metal pockmarked with holes from where Tina and Christie's high heels had cut through it. These girls were packing some serious power in their legs, Alister marvelled. He was really looking forward to getting his hands on their thighs.

“Just a few more seconds...”, he whispered, putting the final touches to his code. “Come on...”

*CRASH!!*

One last synchronised kick from both girls at the same time finally snapped the van's lock, and a moment later, with a screech of buckling metal, the battered double doors were wrenched violently open. Tina and Christie stepped into the back of the van, smoothing their tight black miniskirts down over their thighs. Alister turned to face them in his swivel chair.

“Ladies”, he smiled. “What's the problem, am I double parked?”

The prospect of getting his ass kicked by these two tall athletically built women should have had him trembling in his Italian leather brogues, but Alister couldn't deny feeling a surge of lust as he laid eyes on Tina and Christie in the flesh for the first time. Their outfits might have had something to do with it: matching black formal suits that clung to the curves of their svelte figures in all the right places.

Cut several inches above mid-thigh, their tight black miniskirts barely stretched down low enough to cover the undersides of their ass-cheeks, showing off the girls' long muscular legs to great effect as Alister gave them an unhurried once-over. Plunging U-shaped necklines turned their black linen jackets into exploitative mockeries of formal wear; they seemed to be designed specifically to frame the girls' full perky melons, undercutting them and lifting them up for the inspection of anyone lucky enough to be in the same room with them. And their form-fitting white cotton shirts were so thin as to be practically semi-transparent, so subtle hints of lacy black bra-cups could be seen peeking out from beneath the garments' gossamer-fine fabric. Slim black ties dangled down between the girls' heaving breasts, but rather than add a touch of class or an air of authority to their provocative ensembles, they merely prompted Alister to imagine his cock in the same location, sliding back and forth between Tina's huge gravity-defying melons in particular. He made a mental note to try that out later.

“Come with us peacefully, Mr. Fletcher”, Christie intoned, her voice characteristically low-pitched and threatening, “and we won't have to hurt you”.

“Yeah”, Tina smiled, cracking her knuckles, “but I'd rather you put up a struggle personally, hon'. I'm just itchin' to let loose with a few moves after the evening I've had”.

Alister started inching his left hand casually over towards the keyboard on the desktop beside him.

“I-I think there's been some kind of mistake here, ladies”, he smiled nervously. “I'm just a city worker, you see, here to run some tests on the local power grid”.

“Yeah, sure”, Tina sneered in response. “And we're just a couple of girl scouts, here to see if you wanna buy some cookies”.

She nodded to Christie, who started stalking around the interior of the van, checking over Alister's collection of high-tech equipment while Tina kept an eye on him.

The white-haired beauty bent over at her waist to scrutinize his computer monitor, thrusting her ass back into the Englishman's face as she did so.

“Nice”, he raised one eyebrow appreciatively.

His cock twitched beneath his trousers as Christie's tight black miniskirt pulled taut over her shapely backside. Alister could clearly make out the outline of her thong-cut panties beneath the straining black fabric, and had to restrain himself almost physically from planting a firm smack on Christie's plump bubble-ass right then and there. The backs of the white haired assassin's thighs looked wonderfully smooth and thick, their flawless snow-white surfaces flexing with changeable curves as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. Glancing down, he took in Christie's slender calves, and her elegantly tapering ankles, poised to perfection by the five-inch incline of her black high-heels, like those of an ivory-skinned instagram fitness model, the Englishman ruminated salaciously, while casually squeezing his cock-bulge with his spare hand.

“Eyes up, loverboy”, Tina drawled. “We ain't here to give you a lap dance, English, just bring you in”.

She placed two fingers underneath Alister's chin and moved his gaze away from Christie's ass. The Texan was a little taken back by his total lack of intimidation, however, as Alister promptly turned his attention to her chest and started blatantly ogling her tits instead. She was starting to get the feeling this tall glass of water had an ace up his sleeve they weren't aware of.

“You find anythin' yet, Chris?”, she asked, “'cause this guy's givin' me the creeps, big time”.

“I still can't be sure”, Christie replied hesitantly. She was nearer the front of the van now, behind Alister's back. “There's some kind of chair back here, with a built-in cranial scanner if I'm not mistaken. In fact, it looks a lot like the one in Itagaki-sama's laboratory. And these screens are displaying some advanced computer code... almost indecipherable, but perhaps he is...”, she leaned in close to the monitor, narrowing her eyes. “Oh, shit! Tina, don't let him touch that keyboard!”

“Night night, ladies”, Alister grinned as, too late, Tina lunged for his hand.

He hit the enter key, and in a flash of invisible radio waves the van's comms array emitted a high frequency burst of electromagnetic energy on a very specific wavelength. Immediately, Tina and Christie both seized up and started shaking with paralytic shudders.

“Whew, that was a close one”, Alister breathed a sigh of relief, leaning back in his chair.

The two tall beautiful women on either side of him continued twitching and shuddering like crazy, their jaws locked, fingers clawed, eyes rolling back in their sockets, revealing their whites. They looked like they were having some kind of seizure. But Alister knew better, having designed and trialed this particular technique on Lara numerous times during her indentured servitude at Croft Manor.

Just a few days after the Tomb Raider's initial mind control indoctrination, Alister had discovered this rather effective way of dealing with any non-compliance on her part, a kind of neurological fail-safe designed to incapacitate and render her weak and vulnerable. Fearing that Lara might someday find a way to countermand their control over her, he and Zip had devised a technique whereby a specifically modulated burst of electromagnetic energy could be used to overload the neural framework that their 'fuck-slave protocols', as Alister liked the call them, had embedded in her brain. The first few trial runs had met with limited success, causing Lara a significant amount of discomfort, but not nearly enough to incapacitate her. But eventually they had hit upon just the right frequency and wavelength to inflict maximum pain, temporary paralysis, and a fast-acting soporific effect, alongside minimal long-term injury.

The fact that the same technique was now working on Tina and Christie also confirmed Alister's suspicions from earlier: Itagaki was indeed controlling his harem of beautiful young women in much the same way that he and Zip had been controlling Lara for the past month or so.

And this knowledge was going to come in very handy indeed, the Englishman ruminated as he planned his next move. He needed to get into Itagaki Towers, he concluded, find and rescue Lara, then complete her botched mission by himself: mine the data they needed from Itagaki's servers, and get out in one piece. Oh, and save Zip, he remembered, as something of an afterthought.

When he was certain that Tina and Christie had had enough, he tapped a few keys on his keyboard, ending their neurological torture, and both of them collapsed to the floor immediately like two shapely sacks of potatoes.

Quickly checking outside the van to make sure no one else was prowling around, he pulled the battered doors shut and fastened them together with a sturdy metal padlock, sealing himself in.

The Englishman took a moment to catch his breath. His heart was still pounding in his chest as he drank in Tina and Christie's lush recumbent forms, their supple thighs splayed open at haphazard angles, their full breasts rising and falling enticingly beneath stretched-taut white cotton shirts, their beautiful faces bereft of consciousness, yet somehow looking all the more alluring for their innocence in slumbering repose.

“Now, this may seem like something of a caddish and an indecorous play on my part, ladies”, Alister grinned, cupping his balls and repositioning his hard-on, “but I do rather feel that a spot of groping might be in order here. What do you say?”, he touched his ear in mock-attentiveness. “No objections? Right, then”.

Grinning like a jackal, he knelt down beside Tina and rolled the American woman over onto her back. Her miniskirt was already riding up dangerously high on her thighs, revealing an alluring glimpse of the wrestler's lacy black panties between her parted legs. But it was her chest that Alister was really interested in. With trembling hands, he unbuttoned her black formal jacket, then spread the lapels back over either side of her torso.

“Ohhh, yes...”, the Englishman whispered, licking his lips.

Tina's breasts were even more impressive than Lara's. She was currently laying on her back with her arms raised submissively above her head, a posture which arched her lower back and subtly thrust out her chest, accentuating the generous contours of her E-cup breasts to great effect. Alister could clearly make out every lacy detail of Tina's black push-up bra beneath the semitransparent fabric of her shirt. With his cock now straining hard against the front of his trousers, he hastily loosened the wrestler's tie, then fumbled open the top two buttons of her shirt. The third one snagged, however, and Alister lost his patience. Roughly bunching up her shirt's lapels in his fists, he tore it open with brute force. Buttons pinged off the van's metallic sides, and Alister's heart lurched in his chest as Tina's full tanned melons jiggled into view.

He checked his watch. He still had at least twenty minutes until either of them would start to regain consciousness.

“Plenty of time to have a little fun”, the Englishman's eyes glinted with lecherous delight. “But first, best not to get sidetracked...”

Turning his attention to Christie, who had collapsed facedown on the floor a few feet away, he hooked his palms underneath her armpits and hoisted her up to her feet. The British assassin's shapely backside felt wonderfully warm and yielding as it rubbed against Alister's straining erection – and as Alister rubbed his straining erection against it – but he marshalled his thoughts, and dragged her over to the chair at the front of the van. Congratulating himself on his foresight, he positioned Christie's unresisting form in the plush leather recliner, a portable version of the brain-washing apparatus that he and Zip had used on Lara, then lowered the neural scanner down over her head.

“I always knew this would come in handy someday”, he muttered, booting up the system and initializing the implantation protocols.

If he was right, Christie's previous mind control indoctrination at the hands of Itagaki would make her even more readily susceptible to his own neural reprogramming. He set the system to run, and Christie's limp body seized up for a moment in shock, before relaxing back down in blissfully ignorant repose as her mind and central nervous system were rewritten by Alister and Zip's fuck slave protocols™.

Alister turned his attention back to Tina.

Straddling her torso, he sat down on the American wrestler's toned belly. She was still completely unconscious and barely uttered a murmur of protest as Alister made himself comfortable on her supple abs. The Englishman rubbed his hands together. He was going to enjoy this.

He started by pulling her shirt and jacket wider open, then tucking them down underneath her torso. Barely able to contain his excitement any longer, Alister cupped both of Tina's full bra-encased tits in his hands and gave them a firm squeeze. They felt wonderfully warm and supple beneath his palms, her luscious cleavage bulging out like marshmallow between his sinking fingers. Her skin was moist to the touch; sheened over with a light film of perspiration from the warm night air, it had a petal-soft consistency that set his palms tingling with tactile pleasure. There was just so much luscious female flesh on display here, the Englishman barely knew where to start.

He had to fumble around between her bra-cups for a moment until he found what he was looking for, a front opening clasp, which he deftly unfastened, and then with trembling fingers peeled Tina's shimmering satin bra cups up and away from her chest.

“Oh, top drawer, Ms. Armstrong”, Alister's breath came out in shallow gasps. “These are just... delightful”.

Even with Tina on her back, and with no bra to support her huge bronzed mammaries, the wrestler's sumptuous melons still swelled out from her chest with near-perfect tear-drop shaped contours, as though they had been moulded by Venus' own hands as a flawless model for all women to aspire to. Her perky nipples were a mouthwatering shade of shiny coral pink, and were surrounded by peach-hued aureoles as big as silver dollars. Alister helped himself to two rough handfuls right away, squeezing and jiggling Tina's supple round breasts to his heart's content, sinking his fingers so deep into their yielding surfaces that they practically disappeared amid a delectable over-abundance of malleable feminine flesh.

*SMACK!*

He couldn't resist it, and planted a harsh slap on the wrestler's bulging side-boob, admiring the way a fleshy ripple juddered across the surface of her ripe pink melons as he did so. Tina's brow furrowed, she murmured something softly in her sleep, and turned her head a few inches to one side; but she was still so deep in the hold of a dreamless slumber she could do nothing to prevent Alister's salacious manhandling of her chest.

Almost drooling now, the Englishman unbuckled his belt and fumbled open his trousers. Pulling out his rigidly hard cock, he gave it a few cursory strokes with one hand before laying it down in the deep valley of Tina's heavenly cleavage. He cupped her tits in the palms of his hands and pushed them together around his shaft, forming a warm tunnel of soft bronzed flesh that enveloped his erection completely, then started pumping his hips with jerky, needy thrusts, grinding his ten-inch pole firmly back and forth between the wrestler's jiggling boobs.

“Oohhh... fuck, yes...”, Alister hissed with pleasure as his cock-head popped out above Tina's tanned cleavage, then disappeared back down again between her sumptuously bronzed mammaries, emerging and submerging repeatedly in time with his thrusts as his pace quickened and a few gooey ropes of pre-ejaculate spurted copiously from the eye of his cock, further lubricating his passageway between her tits.

He caught the American woman's perky pink nipples between his forefingers and thumbs and pinched them hard, then rolled them back and forth in slow teasing motions.

“Yeah, you like that, huh, you fucking yankee whore?”, he grunted, noticing that Tina's breathing was starting to become erratic, that her glossy pink lips were pouting in an uneasy expression of arousal as he fucked her tits and roughly played around with her nipples.

Her lips were also lolling open invitingly now, revealing the wrestler's pearly white teeth and the glistening pink interior of her mouth. It proved simply too enticing a target for Alister, who decided that her cleavage would feel even better with some lubrication in any case. So he shuffled forward over her chest, and cupping the back of Tina's head in one hand, tilted her face up until her slumbering visage was level with his cock.

“Open wide, now”, he grinned, pinching Tina's chin between his forefinger and thumb and pulling her mouth wider open. “Daddy's got a nice treat for you, slut...”

He nuzzled the head of his cock down between the American woman's glossy pink lips, then pushed himself into the hot wet interior of her mouth.

“Mmmmm, yesss...”, Alister groaned as the slippery heat of Tina's soft oral cavity enveloped the head of his cock. “Suck that British dick, you dumb colonial bitch”.

He gathered up two fistfuls of Tina's glossy blonde hair, holding her head up at a right angle to her torso; then hunching forward over her helplessly sedate form, he started rolling his hips, pumping his cock steadily deeper and deeper into the back of her throat. The wrestler gagged on Alister's rubbery shaft as it slid smoothly past her tonsils, then curled down into the upper part of her oesophagus. He noticed that her hands were beginning to clench up and tremble above her head, that she was moaning weakly as he stuffed his cock deeper down her throat, retching and spluttering as his thick meat stretched out the interior of her gullet. But Alister didn't relent until he was all the way down inside her throat, with his balls resting on Tina's chin, and her flaring nostrils buried deep in the wiry tangle of his pubic hair.

“Yeah, that's a good girl...”, he grinned down at her, revelling in the slippery-wet sensation of having his entire cock softly massaged by Tina's retching throat muscles. “Choke on that cock”.

After nearly half a minute of deep-throat cock-massage he finally let her up, extracting his glistening meat from the depths of her gullet in one smooth motion. The wrestler gulped down a couple breaths of much-needed oxygen, then collapsed into a husky fit of coughing and glottal spluttering while Alister checked out his cock.

It had ended up exactly as he had intended, covered from base to tip in a nasty layer of Tina's bubbly throat-slime. He shuffled back over the wrestler's torso and sat back down on her abs again, crushing the air from her lungs even as she struggled to catch her breath. Her face was quite a mess now, streaked with smoky trails of eyeliner on her cheeks and marred by globules of saliva dribbling down over her chin. But this deterred Alister not one bit as he sandwiched his cock between her generous bronzed tits again and started thrusting it back and forth in the now-slippery valley of her bulging cleavage.

He fucked Tina's perfect tanned melons for another five minutes or so, breaking off occasionally to slap the underside of his glans down against her perky pink nipples, sliding it around her aureoles in intensely pleasurable circles, and spurting several scalding lances of prejizz onto her gleaming chest as he did so, before pushing himself back down between her sumptuous mounds once again and pumping his meat steadily back and forth between them. He just couldn't get enough of how good it felt as his spit-lubed cock head popped out time and again above Tina's jiggling boobs, only to disappear back down between them a moment later, enveloped in a soft and supple sheath of rolling tit-flesh, a warm glove of glistening cleavage that surrounded his cock with a delightful combination of tenderness, firm yet yielding malleability, and the slippery-wet sensation of youthful female skin slick with lubricious fluids.

He could have happily thrust his cock back and forth between Tina's glorious mammaries for at least another hour – if an insistent beeping sound coming from Christie's chair hadn't distracted him.

“Aha!”, Alister exclaimed, relinquishing his grasp on Tina's gleaming tits. “It seems tonight's second lucky bachelorette is ready to join the party”.

With his cock still jutting out from his shorts, and his trousers still bunched up around his ankles, he shuffled over to the front of the van and tapped a few keys on Christie's chair, ending the implantation process, then lifted the neural scanner up from her head.

Alister jerked himself off beside her chair like a malevolent satyr as the beautiful British Assassin slowly regained her senses.

“Wh-where... am I?”, she mumbled dreamily, her gaze flicking around the interior of the van. “This... isn't Itagaki-sama's labora... oh, my god!”

She saw Tina laid out on the floor a few feet away, her lush, bare breasts now gleaming with spit and precum.

“What have you done?!”, she glared accusingly at Alister. “Why can't I (nnnghh!) move?!”

“Yes, sorry about that, old girl”, Alister grinned. “But time's a-wasting, as the saying goes, so explanations will have to wait. What I need you to do right now is give me a hand carrying your busty American friend over to the chair you're currently sitting in please, if that's not too much of a bother”.

“I most certainly will not!”, Christie protested.

But even as she spoke, much to her dismay, she found herself standing up against her will and walking over to where Tina was laid out on the floor.

“There's a good girl”, Alister followed her, grinning from ear to ear.

He eyed her thick and supple bubble-ass as she bent over to pick up her partner, and finding it simply too tempting a target...

*WHAP!*

He landed a firm spank on Christie's out-thrust buttocks, making them jiggle deliciously beneath her tight black miniskirt.

“Unngghh!”, the British assassin grunted angrily. “You bastard! I'm going to make you regret the day you were ever born!”

But as infuriated as she was by Alister's lecherous mistreatment of her body, she found herself incapable of disobeying his commands. Even as he palmed her ass and gave it a firm squeeze, all she could do was lift Tina's slumbering body up by her armpits, then drag her over to the chair at the front of the van, where she deposited her as Alister had instructed: on her back with both arms draped over the rests on either side of the chair.

“Excellent”, Alister praised her obedience. “Now go back over there and wait for me please. I'll be with you in two shakes of a lamb's tail”.

“I will NOT be talked down to like some common...”, Christie started.

“And do shut up”, Alister waved her off dismissively. “I'm trying to be polite here, but you really are becoming quite tiresome”.

Christie's jaw muscles bulged as she gritted her teeth in powerless feminine rage. But again, she found herself meekly acquiescing to Alister's demands. Unable to utter so much as another syllable she moved to the precise location he had pointed to, then stood there with an indignant expression on her beautiful ice-queen face, awaiting his next command.

Alister took a few moments to position the neural interface correctly on Tina's head, then programmed the computer to implant his fuck slave protocols into the American wrestler's brain.

“Now, then”, he turned back to Christie. “We appear to have a little time on our hands before your friend is all ready to go, so...”, he brushed past the fuming British assassin and sat back down on his swivel chair again, “how about you treat me to a nice lap dance, Christie”.

“That's an order, by the way”, he added in a sterner voice when Christie merely stared daggers at him. “I want you to give me the sexiest, sluttiest lap dance you've ever given. Then, when I say it's time, I'm going to bend you over this counter”, he slapped the counter-top beside him, “and give you a right good fucking right up your arse, Christie. How does that sound?”

“You may speak”, he added.

“It sounds like you're a dead man, Alister Fletcher”, the white haired beauty intoned ominously.

But even as she threatened the life of her grinning captor, Christie's curvaceous figure started swaying seductively from side to side. And as she glared at him with murder in her steel grey eyes, she raised her arms above her head, flexing her lower back, and thrusting her chest out in a very provocative manner. Alister made himself comfortable and settled in to enjoy the show, jerking off his rigidly hard cock with one hand while he palmed, squeezed, fondled and spanked Christie's gorgeous gyrating body to his heart's content.

“Strip off your jacket”, he ordered her after a few minutes of dancing, “but do it slow, and sexy”.

Against her will, Christie's fingers started undoing the buttons of her jackets, one at a time, from top to bottom. Then she shrugged it back over her shoulders and allowed the tailored garment to slide down her arms and fall to the floor behind her. Leaning forward, she placed her palms on the back of Alister's chair and made no move to stop the Englishman as he cupped and squeezed her firm, underhanging, DD-cup breasts through her white cotton shirt.

“Mmmm, very nice”, Alister hummed his appreciation, bouncing Christie's bra-encased tits up and down in his palms a few times, as though to test for ideal weight and perkiness.

“Now kiss me”, he ordered, staring directly into the white-haired beauty's outraged eyes. “Give me a deep and loving French kiss, Christie, like I'm the most important person in the world to you”.

Christie willed her hands to strike out at the Englishman; she yearned to cave in his larynx with a hard knife-hand to the throat, wipe that smug grin off his face once and for all, watch him choke to death on his own blood as she stood triumphant over his hitching body. But instead she found herself helplessly leaning forward, pressing her full pink-glossed lips against Alister's, and sliding her tongue into his mouth. He responded in kind, meeting her tongue with his own and smacking his lips against hers, at the same sliding his hands down over her body, around her hips, and taking a firm grip on her ass, which he then squeezed and groped with lecherous delight as they made out like a couple of horny adolescents on their first date.

*SMACK!*

Alister landed a hard spank on Christie's out-thrust ass, causing her to cringe and mumble expletives into their steamy make-out session. When he finally let her up, detaching his lips from hers with a wet smacking sound, the British assassin looked about ready to murder his entire family given half a chance.

“Did anyone ever tell you you look hot when you're angry, Christie?”, Alister grinned up at her, still groping her ass with both hands as she leaned forward over his lap.

“I wonder how 'hot' you'll find me when I'm ripping your balls off and making you eat them”, she shot back. “Because, believe me, Mr. Fletcher, I am going to take great pleasure in...”

“Oh, do shut up”, Alister interrupted her, and Christie immediately fell silent. “You really aren't in any position to be making threats here, you know”.

He slid his hands down the backs of Christie's thighs, then eased them up underneath her miniskirt, cupping both of the assassin's thick white ass-cheeks in his palms.

“Now dance, bitch”, he grunted, sinking his fingers deep into the supple flesh of her glutes. “I want you to turn around, Christie, then bend over and put this nice fat ass to use by grinding it back against my cock”.

*WHAP!*

He punctuated his command with another firm smack on Christie's bouncing sweet-cheeks, prompting the assassin to curl her upper lip in a sneer of unadulterated hatred as she glared at Alister's grinning face mere inches away from her own. But still, she could do nothing to prevent her body from obeying his commands.

Standing up, she gracefully spun on her heel and stepped over Alister's thighs. Like a professional lap-dancer, she spread her long sexy legs shoulder-width apart, arched her lower back and thrust her ass back into the Englishman's lap.

“Nice”, Alister nodded his approval, placing both hands on Christie's toned ass-cheeks and squeezing them firmly. “Now twerk it”, he demanded. “I want to see these plump buttocks bounce, slut”.

Christie shuddered with disgust at the prospect of providing this degenerate asshole with such lewd entertainment, but obeyed nonetheless. Bending her knees, she rested her palms on her thighs and started shaking her ass in Alister's lap. She felt the lecherous Englishman's hands all over her ass as she did so, exploring her backside and the plains of her thighs, cupping and squeezing her pussy through her skimpy thong panties, fondling her smooth white skin and coasting over the surface of her tight black miniskirt. She could do nothing to stop him when he hooked his thumbs underneath the back of her skirt, and started slowly sliding it upwards over her thick bubble-ass.

“Fuck, yes”, Alister admired in monotone, his eyes glued to the snow-white curves of Christie's heart-shaped buttocks as he eased her skirt gradually higher and higher, until it slipped up over her glutes and bunched up around her hips.

Her thong cut panties were lacy black satin; they tapered down between the assassin's ass-cheeks in a very revealing manner. The garment's fine shimmering fabric was being pulled taut over her pussy mound as Christie thrust her ass back into Alister's lap, leaving very little to his imagination indeed. He could clearly make out the plump curves of her sleekly waxed pussy mound beneath it. He grabbed Christie's hips and pulled her back into his lap, making the assassin stumble slightly as she sat down on his thighs, with her thong-bisected ass-cheeks grinding back against his throbbing erection.

“That's right, bitch”, Alister breathed in her ear, sliding his hands around her torso to cup and squeeze her firm DD-cup melons. “Grind that fat white ass back against my cock. I want to feel my dick sliding back and forth between your buttocks”.

Christie let out an exasperated grunt at the sheer perversity of her captor. But she was still under a strict vow of silence and could do nothing to voice her acute frustration as her body once again betrayed her, and against her will she started rolling her hips on Alister's lap, flexing her lower belly like an exotic dancer and grinding her peachy ass-cleavage firmly up and down the length of his rigid ten-inch pole.

“Ohhh, yesss...”, Alister hissed with pleasure. “Very nice, Christie. You know, if you're ever considering a change of career, I think you'd make a much better lap-dancer than an assassin”.

He cupped the undersides of her breasts and bounced them up and down in his palms a few times. As Christie fumed in mute indignation, Alister popped open the middle buttons of her shirt and then yanked it open over either side of her bra-encased tits.

“I mean, really”, he continued, “I was able to incapacitate you in less than a minute, and I'm just a glorified book worm, really” Christie glared back at him with murder in her eyes – but didn't stop grinding her smooth white ass-cheeks back against his cock even for a second. “Well, a glorified book worm with a genius level IQ, if we're being honest here”.

Easing his fingers inside her bra-cups, Alister deftly scooped out both of the white-haired beauty's luscious DD-cup melons, then sank his fingers deep into their tender undersides, at the same time pressing his thumbs down on her light pink nipples, making Christie squirm with discomfort and hiss in powerless frustration.

“When you think about it, Christie, it really calls your whole self-worth into question, doesn't it?”, Alister grinned at the British woman's indignant face. “Being defeated and controlled so effortlessly by the very man you were sent out here to bring back to your master?”.

*WHAP!*

He landed a stinging smack on the underside of her full right melon, making it bounce and judder on her chest with sumptuous buoyancy. Christie gasped with shock and blushed at having shown such an obvious sign of weakness. Alister's rough mistreatment of her body, she could handle – god knows, Itagaki had subjected her to far, far worse over the past several months – but his words were what really stung, or rather the kernel of truth at the heart of them. Christie’s pride in her own abilities as a fighter, and as an irresistible seductress of men, was taking more of a hit right now than her jiggling mammaries were as the salacious Englishman landed yet another harsh slap on the underside of her left breast, causing her fleshy pink nipple to pucker up and stand to attention with unwanted arousal.

Abruptly, as though he had grown tired of tormenting her, Alister shoved Christie off his lap, sending her stumbling forward and down onto her hands and knees. The assassin’s customary poise and elegance deserted her entirely as she thrust her ass up high in the air behind herself in an enticing doggy-style posture.

“Turn around, slut”, Alister ordered her, his tone now masterful, totally confident. “Stay down on your knees and face me”.

Silently screaming for her body to disobey, Christie pushed herself up to her knees. She shuffled around to face Alister, only to find herself face-to-face with his throbbing veiny erection, the Englishman grinning down at her in triumph, jerking himself off mere inches away from her mouth.

“Now put your hands behind your back, Christie, and open your mouth”, he demanded in a stern tone. “Look up at me and stick out your tongue, as far as it will go”.

Christie was disgusted by her own weak-willed acquiescence, but she obeyed nonetheless. Glaring up at Alister with eyes that could have turned boiling water into ice in a second, yet in this situation only served to fan the flames of his misogynistic power-trip, she crossed her wrists at the small of her back, parted her plump peach-glossed lips, and submissively extended her small pink tongue until she was practically lapping at her own chin.

“Good girl”, Alister wasted no time in stepping forward and slapping the underside of his glans down hard against her soft wet tongue.

He slid himself around on the glistening appendage's saliva-slick surface for a few moments, making Christie's mouth water with anticipation as he smeared his gooey pre-jizz all over her taste buds. Then he grabbed two fistfuls of her short white hair, and holding her head firmly in place, thrust his hips forward, unceremoniously hilting his cock balls deep down her throat in one forceful movement.

“GLLLuuuRRGgggGLLL!”, Christie retched on his thick shaft as it slid past her tonsils and curled smoothly down into her gullet.

“Ohhh, yessss”, Alister exhaled with pleasure. Holding Christie’s face flush against his lower belly, he flexed his cock deep inside her throat, drawing yet more sloppy gagging noises from the white-haired beauty as she choked on his meat.

“That’s good, Christie”, he smiled down at her. “You really have a talent for this kind of thing, don’t you?”.

Christie’s eyes burned with hatred as she returned his steady gaze. Even as her lower eyelids began to brim with sparkling tears she refused to look away; the tattered remnants of her pride would not allow it.

After another few moments spent savouring the slick clenching heat of her throat pressing down on his shaft and massaging it from all sides simultaneously, Alister slowly withdrew his cock from her throat. He held her trembling head firmly in place as he did so, admiring how good her lips looked pouting outwards around his shaft as it emerged from between them, inch by glistening inch. When just the head remained trapped in the searing heat of her mouth, he allowed Christie to suck down one desperate breath before lunging forward again and forcing his thick meat balls-deep down her throat again.

“Uuuummmmssshhhh!!”, the British assassin choked on it, her hands clenching in the small of her back, desperate to wrap themselves around Alister’s neck and choke the life out of him. But she could do nothing to stop the Englishman as he extracted his cock from her throat yet again, then hilted it once more in the depths of her oesophagus.

Smiling down at her with a smug grin on his face, Alister continued to fuck Christie’s throat for several more minutes. He settled into a steady rhythmic pace of about one balls-deep stroke every second, allowing her to snatch a husky breath or two whenever she looked close to passing out from his relentless abuse of her throat. After nearly five minutes of non-stop face-fucking, which had Alister hissing and groaning with intense pleasure, the white haired beauty down on her knees before him, formerly a feared member of the British criminal underworld, had been reduced to a barely conscious, mascara-streaked, gasping wreck. When he finally extracted his spit-slick cock from between her overflowing lips she could barely even keep herself from toppling forwards onto his groin, her slack face sliding back and forth over his pulsing meat, her hands grasping weakly for purchase on his thighs.

Alister grimaced down at her with disdain.

“Pathetic bitch”, he grunted.

He grabbed Christie’s hair and pulled her up to her feet.

“You really thought you could bash your way in here with brute force and take me prisoner?”, he spat in her face.

Christie merely moaned weakly in response, her eyes rolling back in their sockets, revealing their whites as her freshly fucked mouth gaped open, drool and precum dribbling down over her chin. Her ebbing consciousness urged her to fight back, to at least say something. But all she could do was slur a few unintelligible syllables through her stretched out, spunk-smeared lips.

Disgusted – yet at the same time turned on by his total dominance over this once formidable woman – Alister spun Christie around and then shoved her face-down over Tina’s recumbent form. With one hand on the back of her head, he nuzzled Christie’s face deep into the American woman’s bountiful cleavage; with his other hand he grabbed the waistband of her thong panties and violently ripped them away from her hips. Gathering up the tattered remains, he shoved them into Tina’s mouth. With two fingers he stuffed the lacy fabric in between her lips until she retched on her partner’s intoxicating pussy juices.

Now the full, flaring, thick contours of Christie’s beautiful white ass were on display before Alister’s eyes. Her buttocks were sheened over with a light layer of perspiration, their every supple curve gleaming beneath the van’s dim interior lights. Her glistening pink pussy lips were completely smooth and hairless between her muscular thighs, making his cock ache with animalistic lust. But it was the British assassin’s small puckered asshole that Alister really had his sights set on. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he kicked her feet wider apart until Christie’s legs were spread at an angle of about forty-five degrees. Then he positioned his rock-hard cock between her ass-cheeks and started easing it down into her dilating anus.

“Fuck!”, Alister grunted with pleasure and impatience. “Tight fucking bitch!”

Christie’s asshole was in no way designed to accommodate his wrist-thick ten-inch long cock. Even slick as it was with her saliva, and oozing spurts of lubricating precum, he still had to work hard just to force his uncut cockhead in between her taut, trembling buttocks.

“Relax that ass, bitch!”, he growled down at Christie. “Let me in!! I’m demanding that you let me fuck you up your asshole, you dumb fucking white-haired cunt!!”

Christie moaned in desperation, despite herself feeling her tight anal ring dilate and loosen up, allowing Alister to slide another couple of inches of his hot throbbing pole down between her ass-cheeks. The level of control he had over her body seemed to be absolute. With just a few words he was able to override her most primal instincts and force her to open up her most sacred places, like he truly owned her now. She felt helpless in the face of such overwhelming power, mortified by the way her own body was betraying her, infuriated by her total lack of control in this non-consensual sexual encounter; yet at the same time she couldn’t deny feeling a sick twinge of erotic excitement at the prospect of being dominated and used so shamelessly for the pleasure of this pathetic bean-pole academic who was slowly but surely shunting his cock deeper and deeper up her ass.

Alister took a two-handed grip on Christie’s dimpled ass-cheeks. Sinking his fingers deep into her trembling white buttocks, he pulled them apart, opening up the assassin’s ass and sliding his thumbs down into her slippery ass-cleavage to pry open her clenching asshole. He heard her hiss furiously and mumble threats into Tina’s bountiful chest, but paid her no mind. After weeks of fucking Lara Croft up her ass (and pussy, and mouth, and tits, and frankly any part of her body where his dick would fit) while listening to her reel off a long list of all manner of painful retributions that she intended to inflict on him and Zip should she ever escape their control, he had developed a thick skin for female revenge fantasies. If anything, listening to their threats only made his cock harder now.

“Yeeessss…”, he groaned with indescribable pleasure as his shaft finally slid all the way down into Christie’s ass, and the warm yielding texture of her buttocks pressed back against his hips.

“Time to break-in this new filly, I think”, he grinned maniacally.

Pressing down on her ass-cheeks with all of his weight, he started rolling his hips. Sliding his cock steadily back and forth along her tight anal passageway four or five inches at a time, Alister groaned with pleasure as the searing, clenching interior walls of Christie’s violated asshole milked his cock for all it was worth.

He grabbed the back of her hair and pulled the assassin’s face up from Tina’s tits. She glared back at him with hatred in her steel-grey eyes and had to arch her spine down in a low valley. The awkward position compelled Christie to her raise her ass up even higher as Alister’s pace increased and his hips started slapping audibly against the backs of her thighs.

“How does it feel, bitch?”, he grunted, “getting fucked up your ass by the man you were sent out here to detain?”

Christie bared her teeth and snarled back at him with primal fury.

“I swear (ungh!) I will (nngh!!) kill you (ungh!), Alister Fletcher!!”, she hissed.

Alister laughed in her face.

“I highly doubt that, Christie”, he hammered home a few extra deep thrusts, causing the impaled assassin to yelp as her thick buttocks bounced and jiggled with delicious malleability. “Now be a good girl and suck on your friend Tina’s breasts, will you. I always find a little girl on girl action to be quite arousing when I’m fucking one of said girls up her arsehole”.

Cursing under her breath, Christie had no option but to obey. She lowered her face back down to Tina’s chest and attached her lips to the blonde’s conch-shell pink nipple. She started sucking obscenely on her friend’s sun-bronzed cleavage, at the same time swirling her tongue round and round on her soft tan skin.

“Good girl”, Alister complimented her obedience. “Yes, very nice indeed…”

The sight and sound of Christie’s plump lips attached to Tina’s breasts, her tongue lapping at her friend’s nipples, sliding around the suction-attached edges of her mouth: it was almost too much for him to take. Combined with the wondrously supple feel of her thick white buttocks flexing beneath his palms – two smooth alabaster orbs with just the right combination of feminine softness and combat-trained firmness – and the incredible sensation of Christie’s tight hot asshole clenching down on his shaft and massaging his ripe-to-nut glans relentlessly in the depths of her ass as he pumped his cock steadily back and forth between her heart-shaped buttocks, it was almost enough to push Alister over the edge.

“F-fuck…”, he swore.

The evening’s events were finally beginning to get the better of him. With one final surge of lust he hooked his forearm under Christie’s right thigh and hoisted her leg up onto the recliner beside Tina. As the white-haired woman mumbled protests onto her friend’s breast, Alister positioned her knee over Tina’s shoulder and then braced his hands against the undersides of her inner thighs. In this way he was able to spread Christie’s legs wider open and affect even deeper penetration up her ass; while at the same time the position caused her ass-cheeks to tighten up around his cock, crushing Alister’s shaft in a petal-soft vice of plump white ass-cleavage as Christie’s dimpled glutes formed a perfect heart-shaped dome above her flaring hips.

The assassin’s eyes rolled back in their sockets as Alister proceeded to pound his cock up her ass with all of his remaining stamina. Her tongue rolled out one side of her mouth, laying against Tina’s nipple as the blonde’s tits rippled like jelly in time with his thrusts.

“UNNGH! UNNGGH!! UUNNNGHH!! UUUNNNGGHH!!”, was all Christie could utter as Alister slammed his meat repeatedly up her ass with thrusts powerful enough to make the whole van rock and squeak on its suspension.

“FUUU-UUUCK YEESSSS!!!”, the Englishman groaned deep in his chest, his balls lurching and rolling repeatedly, releasing their thick backed up load as his orgasm finally overtook him.

With one last powerful thrust he hilted himself all the way up inside Christie’s ass, and his cock erupted with geyser-like spurts of hot off-white jizz.

“GLLLUURRGGLLLHHH!!”, the assassin’s whole body appeared to vibrate like a tuning fork as she succumbed simultaneously to multiple anal orgasms.

Alister’s scalding-hot spunk lancing repeatedly against her upper colon, painting Christie’s insides an inch deep in virile man-goo, was simply too much for her to take. The last vestiges of her rational mind regarded her reaction as utterly disgraceful. That she had actually enjoyed being raped by this degenerate pig was beyond dishonourable; it made her question the essential nature of her character. But her mind and her central nervous system were two different things entirely. As her consciousness lamented her humiliating downfall at the hands of this skinny computer nerd, Christie’s body rejoiced in the waves of pure sensual euphoria that Alister’s cock was bestowing on her as it spurted load after load of thick hot spunk straight up her ass.
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