Chapter 2

Flag Girl to the Rescue?

"From superheroine to seafood — how the mighty have fallen!" exclaimed Moulton. He was in a cheerful mood.

"It's not funny," Bohner grumbled. "We almost lost a multi-million-dollar piece of meat. In fact, we still might."

"Not to worry," said Moulton. "It's only money. Besides, I believe she's going to be fine. Here comes Tasher. Let's get it from the horse's mouth."

A serious-looking middle-aged man wearing rimless spectacles joined them on the veranda.

"How goes our famous patient?" asked Moulton.

Tasher waggled his hand in a gesture of ambivalence. "Not so bad, not so good. The application of moderate electric shock succeeded in removing the lampreys, though her nipples will be red and raw for several days. We also removed about a dozen leeches. The damage they did was superficial. As for the piranhas, they did quite a number on her leg. We sewed it up. She'll have a scar, but it shouldn't hurt the bidding. Hell, some men might find it attractive."

"See," said Moulton, turning to Bohner. "No problem."

"Well, actually there is a problem," said Tasher. "It's the candiru."

"What the hell is that?" said Bohner.

"A small fish, found in the Amazon, that swims up a larger animal's urethra," said Tasher. "Once lodged there, it cannot be extracted — except by surgery."

"So she has this fish in her urinary tract?" said Bohner.

"No. The candiru in Mr. Moulton's aquarium is a rare variety of Vandellia cirrhosa. It's too large to fit up the urethra, so it seeks out other bodily orifices — the anus or, in the case of a large female mammal such as Ms. A, the vagina."

"My God," cried Moulton. "So which has it gone after in this case? Does she have a perch in her pussy or an eel in her anus?"

"Both, until about an hour ago," said Tasher. "We got them all before they had advanced very far. Luckily, these little bastards don't have the backward-swept spines found on the more common variety of candiru, so surgery wasn't necessary. But they do have a voracious appetite for blood. In fact, Ms. A had already done a lot of bleeding. But we've given her a transfusion, and she's on antibiotics. My guess is that she'll be fully recovered in two or three weeks."

"Damn," said Bohner. "That puts us way behind schedule."

"Sorry, but you can't very well put her through the kind of rough stuff you have in mind when she's in the condition she's in now. Whatever her crime-fighting exploits in the past, she's not superhuman anymore."

A shapely, dark-haired housemaid in a skimpy black and white uniform came out on the veranda with a tray of drinks. When she came to Moulton, she leaned forward, whispered to him and handed him an envelope. He read it and smiled.

"Thank you, Marietta," he said. As she turned away, he gave her a friendly pat on the behind.

"News?" asked Bohner.

"Yes," said Moulton. "Stepford called a few minutes ago. It seems Ms. A's little friend Flag Girl is on her way here. She confided to Stepford that someone told her Ms. A had been abducted, and she's decided to rescue her."

"Another problem," Bohner said, frowning.

"No, it's more of an opportunity. If Ms. A is worth, say, twenty million on the sex-slave market, this little strumpet should be worth at least four or five. In fact, we could sell them as a set. I believe they'd fetch more that way than sold separately."

He removed a cell phone from the breast pocket of his Armani sport jacket.

"Oliver," he said, "we're going to have a visitor shortly, an attractive young blonde with big boobs and a skimpy costume. I want you to follow her movements carefully, but no dogs and no rough stuff. When she gets close to the house, have someone with smooth manners meet her — I think Ludwig would do fine."

He put away the cell phone and smiled at Bohner and Tasher. "Ms. A is the big prize, of course, but I've long wanted an opportunity to abuse this lovely little twit. As they say, good things come to those who wait."

Security cameras picked up Flag Girl the moment she jumped down from the eight-foot fence that surrounded Moulton's estate. Half a dozen armed guards in camouflage followed her through the woods. Four more guards, in black slacks and white golf shirts, made themselves as conspicuous as possible, at strategic spots. The effect was just what Taggart, head of security, wanted. Flag Girl tried to avoid the guards she saw, and this brought her to the Garden of Earthly Delights.

She stopped, awestruck.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" said a man's voice behind her.

She spun around and assumed a martial arts position.

"Sorry," said the man. He wore black slacks and a white golf shirt. "I didn't mean to startle you." He spoke with a German accent.

"Don't get any closer," said Flag Girl.

"Don't worry," he said. "I won't hurt you. I've been sent by Mr. Moulton to invite you to join him and several other guests for drinks on the veranda."

"You knew I was here?" Flag Girl said, a note of disappointment in her voice.

"Yes," said the young man. "We have an excellent security system. We spotted you right away. If you don't mind my saying so, after one look, I was very eager to meet you."

Flag Girl for the first time noticed that the young man was very handsome. And he seemed nice enough. Still...

"Don't try to take advantage of me," Flag Girl warned.

"I wouldn't think of it. Now, if you'll just follow me."

"Ah, you must be the young lady they call Flag Girl," said Moulton, hurrying up to her and bowing to kiss her hand.

"How'd you know?" she asked.

Moulton looked up at her. She didn't seem to be kidding.

"Well, my dear," he said, "it must have had something to do with your costume."

"Oh, yeah," she said, blushing slightly. "I forgot about that."

"Well, please join us in a drink. What will you have?"

"I don't drink alcohol," he said sternly. "And I don't smoke. I don't do anything unhealthy or immoral."

"Yes, yes, very admirable," said Moulton.

"What is he drinking?" she asked, pointing to Bohner.

"Gin and tonic," said Bohner.

"Does that have alcohol?" she asked.

Moulton looked at her with what he hoped was a bland and benign expression — and wondered how he could put her monumental stupidity to good use.

"Yes, it does, my dear. But I know just the thing for you. It's flavorful and full of anti-oxidants." He waved to a waiter who had joined Marietta on the veranda. "André, would you get the young lady a Kir, and ask Tommy to fortify it with a splash of Absolut."

He turned his attention back to Flag Girl. "Now, we're all very eager to hear why you came here, and why you climbed over the fence instead of ringing at the front gate."

"Well," said Flag Girl, "I came looking for Bren... I mean Ms. Americana. Someone told me she had been kidnapped and taken here."

"Ah," said Moulton. "So you climbed the fence so you wouldn't alert the — what shall we call them? The 'bad guys'?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Flag Girl. The waiter returned and handed her a drink. "Gosh, it's so pretty," she said, holding the glass up to the setting sun.

"Yes, and it tastes even better than it looks," said Moulton. "But you must have thought we were the bad guys. Am I not right?"

She sipped her drink, smiled, then drank the rest in two gulps. "That's really delish," she said.

"And good for you. André, bring the young lady another, please. Now, back to how you came here."

Flag Girl looked around nervously. "Well, I was told Brenda... I mean, Ms. Americana..."

"It's okay," interrupted Bohner. "We all know that Ms. Americana is really Brenda Wade."

"You do!" Flag Girl looked stunned.

"Yes, of course," said Bohner. "We're her friends. Brenda and I go way back. And she wasn't kidnapped. She came here because she needed to get away from the stress of the city."

"I know," Flag Girl said sadly. "Terrible things happened to her when she was captured by the Magyar. I feel bad that I was out of town. I should've been with her."

"Ah, well, these things can't be helped," said Moulton. "Where exactly were you?"

"I was on vacation in Omaha."

"Oh," said Bohner, "you have family in Nebraska."

"No. Commissioner Stepford recommended it. He said they have great beaches." She frowned. "But when I got there, nobody seemed to know where the beaches were. Not a very friendly town. That's why I only stayed ten days."

Moulton and Bohner glanced at one another, then Bohner began coughing violently. Tasher slapped him on the back. "You okay?" he asked. Then he began coughing too.

Flag Girl looked at Moulton. "Gosh, that's strange," she said. "Both of them coughing like that — must be something going around."

At this, Bohner actually fell to his knees, and his coughing sounded very much like laughter.

Moulton took her arm and guided her toward a table filled with hors d'oeuvres. "Try the brie, my dear. It is exquisite."

After several more glasses of Kir, it was Flag Girl's turn to succumb to uncontrollable laughter. Everything that anyone said seemed terribly funny.

Everything was starting to look funny, too. She tried to focus on Moulton, but the elderly gentleman insisted on blurring and become two overlapping elderly gentlemen.

Then she stopped laughing and said, "I don't feel so good."

"I'm so sorry to hear it," said one of the Moultons. "Let me help you into the house, and you can lie down for a while."

The last thing she remembered, before the room started whirling around her, was lying on a couch in a room with soft lighting. Mr. Moulton was removing the top of her costume. Then he cried, "So beautiful, so luscious, so large for such a small girl!"

She wasn't sure whether to be pleased or offended. Everything went dark before she could resolve the question.

The sky looked threatening, so breakfast the next morning was indoors, in what Moulton called the Boulangerie. It was comfortable room with tile floors and half a dozen tables that Moulton had bought from a Parisian café. Against one wall was an old-fashioned glass case with shelves. And on the shelves was a wide assortment of baked goods.

"Good morning, gentlemen," Moulton said, as Bohner and Tasher joined him. "I hope you slept well."

"Very well," said Bohner.

"And how's the patient?"

"Still recovering nicely," said Tasher. "I've cut the sedative levels. I think she can handle the pain. And speaking of sedation, how is our new guest?"

"Our little Flag Girl?" said Moulton with a wide grin. "I imagine she's not feeling much better than her mentor this morning. She was quite drunk last night, and I'm afraid we took unfair advantage of her."

"Do tell," said Bohner.

"I really shouldn't," said Bohner. "A true gentleman wouldn't. But since you asked, it was a most enjoyable evening. Her boobies are quite wonderful. I pressed them together and fucked them like a man of 60. Ludwig was next. He screwed her in the ass. Then the others joined in."

"How many?" asked Tasher.

"Enough so that she'll be quite sore this morning. Not quite as bad as having a pickerel in your privates, like poor Ms. A, but bad enough." Marietta entered, and Moulton said, "Café au lait for me, my dear, and one of those almond croissants that Henri does so nicely. Gentlemen, how about you?"

"Coffee. Black," said Bohner.

"Orange juice and toast," said Tasher.

"She's a nice little tart," said Bohner, as Marietta left the room.

"Indeed she is," said Moulton. "Every bit as delectable as the food she serves. Oral sex is her specialty."

"Well, what's on the agenda today?" asked Tasher.

"Ms. A is still too weak for sexual assault," said Bohner, "but I think a bit of psychological subversion is in order."

"What do you mean?" asked Moulton.

"I mean we can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. I suggest we give Flag Girl a workout with the wand, and force Ms. A to watch."

"Excellent," said Moulton.

"I have no problem with that," said Tasher, "but Nurse Betty might. She seems to have become quite fond of Ms. A."

"Betty will do what I tell her," Bohner snapped.

Bohner was right. Betty grumbled but did as she was told. She helped get a still very groggy MA into a wheelchair and pushed her to the big recreation room.

Flag Girl was already there, tied to steel rings in the wall, her arms and legs spread. She was fully clothed again, if wearing such a skimpy outfit could be called being fully clothed. Bohner had decided that slowly stripping her would add to the drama.

They positioned MA a few feet to the left of Flag Girl. At first, she gave no indication that she recognized her young proté gé. But Flag Girl recognized her.

"Oh, Brenda, what have they done to you?" she cried. "You look terrible."

MA shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs. She did her best to focus on the scene before her, but everything was blurry. The voice was definitely Flag Girl's, but she couldn't see her.

She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a hoarse whisper.

"Don't try to speak, Ms. A," said Bohner. "Save all your energy for watching and listening."

She watched, and the blurry image began to clarify. It was, indeed, Flag Girl, and she was tied and helpless. Oh, great, thought MA, now they have both of us.

Moulton would do the honors today. He stood directly in front of Flag Girl and ripped off her mask.

"Oh, no," cried the blonde semi-superheroine. "That's not fair."

"You're quite right, dear," said Moulton. "And neither is this."

He slowly pulled away her blue, star-spangled top.

"Was I exaggerating, gentlemen?" said Moulton, nodding toward her tits.

"Very nice," said Bohner. Tasher allowed himself a small, tight grin.

Moulton slipped his hand into the waist-band of her short red and white skirt and pushed it down to her crotch.

"Oh, that really is unfair," she sobbed. "I can't believe you'd be so mean."

"Obviously, you don't remember last night's fun," said the old man. He began massaging her clitoris. Despite her cries of protest, she began getting wet.

"Betty," Moulton said, "help me with this." Betty unzipped and removed Flag Girl's skirt, then ripped off her panties. The little blonde was now naked, except for her red boots and a blue choker around her neck.

"Bohner, the wand."

Bohner handed him the wand. "Remember," he said, "start at level two and don't go higher than six."

"Very well," Moulton said impatiently. He examined the base of the wand, adjusted the power level, then pushed it suddenly under Flag Girl's right breast.

"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, my, oh!"

He slid the silver sphere around her aureole several times, then pressed it directly against the nipple. Flag Girl began to writhe in her bonds. She sobbed and moaned and bit her lower lip.

"By Jove, I think she likes it," said Moulton.

He continued to apply the wand to her breasts, producing three orgasms in less than two minutes. Exhausted, she hung limp from the rings.

"A randy little vixen. Let's see if her pussy is as erogenous as her tits."

"No," cried MA. "Leave her alone. For the sake of the Goddess, release her."

"Why should we, Ms. A?" said Moulton. "Surely you can see that she is enjoying this even more than we are."

"Do what you want to me," MA begged. "Just let her go."

"Oh, but we will do what we want to you — and to her. You are both completely helpless, defenseless. What could be more erotic than two beautiful women — two proud and beautiful women — unable to prevent their abuse at the hands of an old reprobate like me?" Moulton loosened his belt and dropped his trousers. His dick wasn't as firm as it once would have been, but it was hard enough to do the job.

Flag Girl, who had slid into semi-consciousness, awoke with a start.

"What are you doing?" she cried. "Ow, that hurts."

"Yes, I'm sure you are a little tender down there, my dear," said Moulton, breathing heavily. "But it will feel better shortly."

He gave one last push and came with a loud groan.

"Are you okay, Mr. M?" asked Bohner.

Moulton rested against Flag Girl for a while, then withdrew his prick and pulled up his pants. Bohner helped him to a chair.

"I'd love to continue with the wand, Bohner, but I'm afraid I've overexerted myself this morning. I'll just rest and watch you work it."

"Can I?" Betty asked.

Bohner looked at Moulton and Tasher, neither of whom objected.

"Go ahead," he said, handing her the wand.

She tested it with her finger, then stroked it lightly across her forearm.

"You're supposed to be doing Flag Twit, not yourself," said Bohner.

"Yeah, but I gotta get a sense of how this works," said Betty. "I want to be able to use it as effectively as possible." She slipped the silver sphere under her blouse and pressed it against her breast.

"Oh, wow, this really is great! And it's only on Level 2."

She pulled it out and turned up the power level. She grabbed Flag Girl by the throat with her left hand, and pressed the wand into her belly.

"Here comes the Sugarland Express," she whispered, sliding the wand down to her captive's crotch.

"Oh my god," cried Flag Girl. "Oh my god!"

"Hell, it isn't even inside you yet," Betty said. She slid the sphere back and forth, caressing Flag Girl's vulva. Then she bent slightly, positioning the wand for an upward thrust, and said, "Night-night time."

She crammed it into Flag Girl's pussy with all her might. The little blonde rose with the pressure, trying to evade the overwhelming surge of sensations. She wiggled on the wand like a fish on a spear.

Betty worked the wand around inside her, then pulled it out as suddenly as she had inserted it. Flag Girl's body went limp.

"We'll keep doing this until you beg for it, slut," she whispered in Flag Girl's ear. "And the more we focus on you, the less our mutual friend, Brenda, will have to go through."

A Garden Party

Betty's strategy for protecting MA seemed to be working. Flag Girl was raped with the wand several times a day. She came to expect it, to look forward to it eagerly. Her pussy would lubricate at the mere sight of the wand.

"Pavlov would've loved this little bitch," said Bohner.

At night, Ludwig and his fellow security guards raped her the old-fashioned way, with Moulton looking on appreciatively.

But Bohner hadn't lost sight of the main goal. After a week of abusing Flag Girl, he announced that MA was fit enough to join in the fun — as a victim. Moulton was bubbling over with excitement.

"I think it's time I activated my Garden of Earthly Delights," he said. "It will be great fun with these two lovely young ladies running about naked."

Bohner was reluctant to cross his host, but he had heard about Moulton's "Paradise parties." They usually ended up with someone dead — more often than not, a good-looking young woman.

"Isn't that kind of dangerous, Mr. M?" he said.

"Oh, we'll be very careful. Like the Magyar's magic wand, the Garden has what you might call power settings — degrees of danger. We want enough danger to make the whole affair interesting, but we can control how much. These parties don't have to involve fatalities. In any event, we'll send Flag Girl in all by herself first."

"Whatever you say," Bohner mumbled. He was not reassured.

MA and Flag Girl weren't allowed to spend much time together without someone watching and listening. Bohner didn't want to take any chances on them cooking up an escape plan. And Betty, who had taken an instant dislike to Flag Girl, was jealous of the dumb blonde. She couldn't figure out what MA could possibly see in her.