A Compromising Position

When I slowly came to, it took me a few seconds to assess my situation. I was sitting, my hands handcuffed behind me and my legs strapped to the metal feet of a chair. I was completely naked. I quickly looked up, wincing from the pain where he had hit me over the head.  “So I strip-search you in case you wearing a bug…,” he announced in his thick Russian accent and broken English. “Just standard protocol in our work, you understand,” he continued mockingly. “Then I choose to keep you naked because what happen next will hurt a lot more on those pretty fragile balls you have. Now, tell me where I can find the hard drive.”
“I don’t know! I swear”, I cried out in my most convincing manner. Although apparently not convincingly enough, because he then lifted his leg back and swung his foot under the chair on which I was sat, kicking his leather boots hard up into my exposed ball sack.  “DAARRGH” I screamed. But that only made him laugh. Again and again and again, he repeated kicking my balls and laughing. “JUST FUCKING STOP… COMMIE CUNT!” – the words spat out of my mouth furiously as I gnashed my teeth. “I’ll stop when you tell me where I find the hard drive”, he insisted, registering a hard backhanded slap across my face.
“Maybe if that doesn’t get you to talk, I’ll have to try something else on little American boy, huh?”. He unzipped his flies and took one step closer until he was looming over me. With one hand, he took my head and shoved it towards his crotch, whilst the other hand pushed his floppy girthy meat into my mouth. My whole body was wriggling and trying to get away, but I wasn’t going anywhere. He calmly and confidently pushed my head even further down on his dick until I could feel his blonde pubes scratching against my face. I kept cursing at him profusely, but all that came out was incomprehensible muffled sounds that made me look even more pathetic.
He yanked my hair back, and I gasped for air as a tear streamed down my cheek. “Tell me what you know”, he shouted. “Please, I don’t know anything,” I tried to say as he forced me back down on his dick. I could feel it growing inside my mouth this time, filling up every space it could before burrowing its way down my throat. Gagging and teary-eyed, I looked up at him and saw a huge grin across his face. He was loving every second of it. The interrogation continued for some time: demanding questions interspersed with rounds of face-fucking, slapping, spitting and threatening. And I, resilient and loyal to the CIA, continued to deny ever knowing about the hard drive and took all he gave without breaking.
At that moment, a loud noise came from across the warehouse. The door had been kicked open, and the lights from a car parked outside streamed in. I was left temporarily blinded, but I could hear footsteps approaching. I knew better than to scream for help, so I sat quietly as the Russian pulled himself out of my mouth and walked away to greet the mysterious intruder. The sound of the messenger’s footsteps started again, this time gradually getting further away until a loud slam of the door and an instant cease of light confirmed that he had gone. And I was, once again, left alone with my captor.
“So… little American boy. You intercepted a message from my informant regarding the whereabouts of the hard drive. Then you crashed a party you were not invited to, and guess what?”, he started to shout. “Huh? GUESS WHAT? Dr Heisenberger escaped with the hard drive,” his voice bellowed.  “So here’s what’s going to happen. You no longer work for the Central Intelligence Agency. Now, little American works for the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. You report to me, and you will not stop until you bring me the hard drive. But first,” he said, grabbing my face and making me look him in the eye, “you’re going to take my load. Shlyukha!”
He picked up the chair I was tied to and threw it on the dirty ground, leaving me face down with my ass up in the air. As he knelt down behind me, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and prepared for what was to come. He reached his hand around to my mouth. “Spit!” he said, and I obeyed, spitting a thick wad onto his palm. First came one finger, pushing its way in against my resistant hole. Then came a second finger, and a third, and a fourth! In and out he went, massaging the inside of my hole. I didn’t want to give in so quickly, but I couldn’t hold back for long. Very soon, my hole was working in sync with his fingers – pushing back a little every time he pulled out and loosening up with each plunge they took in.
Then out went his fingers, and in went the ten inches of his thick cock in one deep stroke. I let out a deep, uncontrolled moan. “Little American boy is slut for his Comrade, huh?” he said, taunting me. “Yes, Comrade”, I answered almost instinctively.  He was picking up pace now: pulling out and slamming his full body weight into my yearning ass so hard that all I could do was lie there and take it. Faster and faster he went until everything became blurry. Then he quickly yanked himself out and stood up over me. The cold night air whipping against my gaping hole, as he showered me with heavy loads of his Russian cum.
As I laid there all tied up and wet with his load, a cold harrowing realization came over me. No one was coming to my rescue, and from this day forward, I would be serving the enemy. This agent, yours truly, had been…