Vile Bitch & 1/2

I smiled as she shed her clothes then walked over to a tree, bent over, spread her thighs apart, and supported herself with her hands on the tree. She giggled with her head upside down between her legs, the mottled sunlight penetrating the forest canopy reflecting off of her moist pussy.

I'm not that stupid; I was over there in a flash gently stroking her glistening pussy as I dropped and stepped out of my pants. I held her hips tightly as I penetrated her, and stroked in and out, leisurely at first and then hard. I saw her start rubbing her clit with one hand as she started chanting "Oh yes, oh yes, oh fucking yes," and I grabbed one of her flopping boobs with one of my hands while holding onto her hip with the other. Her pussy was at exactly the right height for my dick to rub her G-spot with every stroke.

This time she came so hard that I had to hold her up to keep her from falling. By the time that I came she had climaxed three times, and we both fell to our knees. When I pulled out she turned and faced me and we both started chuckling.

"I came three fucking times, Ryan, you animal," she giggled; "and why did you let me fall to the ground? You were supposed to hold me up."

"My knees buckled," I chortled. "You sucked me dry -- you're the animal, Carleigh, remember -- the 'Bitch.'"

Carleigh actually laughed out loud then gave me a passionate kiss on the lips.

What followed was the most sexually fulfilling time of my life. For the next ten days Carleigh was pleasant, smiley, forthright, humorous -- and most of all sexually provocative. We fucked at least twice every day and I ate her out at least once every day too. She did give me a blowjob once but I was more interested in saving all of my jism for her pussy.

As the ten days went along she also got more beautiful. Without makeup, and once her hair recovered completely from the wig weave she had had for more than a year without relief, and with her sparkling blue eyes, she looked fantastic. I didn't fall in love with her, because I was certain that at any time she could return to her Vile Bitch persona -- but I sure was head-over-heels in lust with her, and enjoyed her company.

In those ten days we had re-supplied our food stocks, and purchased a few other things that we needed -- including a pair of binoculars -- from two other remote Russian families. From the last family we got directions to a Russian town -- one not sympathetic to the Islamic separatists.

With the binoculars we scoped out the town from an overlooking wooded ridge. We concurred that it was safe. When we walked into the town one of the first things that we noticed was a newspaper -- only a couple of days old -- with a large photo of Vile Bitch and a small photo of me on the front page. Carleigh read the article, chuckled, and gave me a summary.

"There is an all out effort by the Russian Government to find us. They are certain that we are being held by Islamic separatists, but are encouraged that they found three dead ones in the car that we were in. Harold has returned to Dagestan and is coordinating information from the Russian Government and people back home. We're a big deal," she laughed. Then she got this quizzical look on her face and chuckled "This will really pump up my video sales -- in fact I'll bet they're already through the roof!"

I smiled. "If everyone is so frantic we should probably call someone right away."

Carleigh got this really quizzical look on her face. "OK -- if your phone is working let's call Harold so that he's relieved. But wouldn't you like an entire day together in a hotel room, with a bathtub and a bed? Once we get back to the States our relationship is going to go back to the way that it was."

I already knew our fuck fest wouldn't continue once we got home. I nodded, and handed Carleigh my phone. "Let's find a hotel first," she said.

There was one hotel in town. We looked at the rooms. Most were second class but they did have what passed for a "penthouse," with a large tub and shower, a big bed, and clean sheets and towels. After talking with the management in Russian she turned to me and said "The penthouse is seven thousand rubles, roughly $200, for two nights. Am I worth that for one last night and day of fun?"

I laughed out loud at the diabolical look on her face, more than the question, pulled five thousand rubles from my money belt and handed it over. "Give me three thousand more," she said, so I did, and she handed it to the manager after giving him quick instructions in her fluent Russian. The manager handed her two plastic packages each containing a razor and some other items.

As we walked the three flights up to our room -- no elevator -- I asked "What was the other three thousand for?"

"For the plastic packages, room service when we want to eat, and to be sure that no one disturbs us for any reason; just a knock on the door when they bring us the food. We're going to really, really enjoy each other," she snickered.

In the room I went to shave my thirteen day growth of beard while Carleigh called Harold on the phone. I was just finishing up when she came into the bathroom, naked, after finishing her call to Harold. "What's up?" I asked, not looking her in the eye but at her spectacular boobs.

"Harold thinks that we should go to the authorities here in town immediately, but he's willing to go along with my desires. He didn't really ask for an explanation. I promised him that at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon that we'd go to the local police station. He confirmed that my video sales have skyrocketed," she chirped.

"How about a shower?" I asked, dropping my pants. She smiled, put her arms around my neck, and kissed me.

The shower was big enough to fuck in, so of course we did, with me holding her up by her ass with her arms tightly around my neck and her luscious boobs pushed into my chest. We were happy campers as we dried off.

"Say, Ryan; look at all this stubble on my legs and crotch, huh. Thirteen days without shaving is a long time -- gross, isn't it?" she said.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think that your body could ever be described as 'gross' even if your act is," I snickered.

After giving me a playful punch in my arm with a teasing look she continued. "Would you mind shaving me?"

I laughed then said "I'd pay a year's salary to be able to do that."

"Well get out the razor and shaving cream from my bag," she said as she ran a little warm water in the tub and then sat down in it.

I was very careful, and had a great deal of fun!

We stayed naked while we ate dinner, then gave each other a massage. I gave her one first, then her me. When she finished she whispered in my ear "You know as fantastic as the sex has been with you the first time was the best. I've decided that if you want any more sex before three tomorrow afternoon you're going to have to take it; I'm not giving it up."

With that she got up, got dressed in the most conservative outfit that she had and then snipped "Get off the bed asshole; you're sleeping on the couch and I don't want your stink messing up the sheets for me."

Since I'm not the smartest or most perceptive guy in the world, at first I was non-plussed, especially when she poked me in the ribs hard as she repeated "Get the fuck off, shithead!" Then I thought back on our first time -- as great as the sex had been since then, I had to admit that the first time was my best sexual experience ever too.

I got up off the bed with kind of a hang-dog look, like I was going to comply, and picked up a few articles of clothing as she snarled "And cover up your ugly body too, I can't stand the sight of it."

Once I had the correct articles of clothing in my hands I whirled around, grabbed her from behind and got her in a choke hold. I forced her down onto the bed and put my knee in her back as I tied a gag over her mouth. She was writhing, screaming into the gag, and trying her best to hit or kick me as I held her hands together and tied them together, and then to the metal headboard of the bed; not an easy thing to do since she was flailing and kicking, including landing a few significant blows to my legs and chest.

Once her arms were secure I literally ripped her top and bra off as she certainly appeared to be trying to break the headboard apart while she continued to kick. I then lay across her stomach and pulled her pants down around her ankles to mitigate her kicks, and then tied her ankles loosely together, and then using her torn bra I tied one ankle to the metal footboard of the bed.

By that time my cock was rock hard with excitement and her pussy was leaking. I straddled her and needed to use my hands to help bury my cock in her pussy because in the position she was in it was so tight. Also, it didn't help that she undulated her body so ferociously that I was trying to hit a moving target. After a couple of minutes I wore her down, then completely buried my joy stick and started pumping while pinching her nipples.

Carleigh -- now once again Vile Bitch but without the makeup and costume -- kept moving around. Since my cock was now fully buried in her cunt, however, every movement sent an electric charge throughout my entire body. Once she had her first orgasm she couldn't really move any more, although she did weakly contract her pc muscles. When I deposited a full load she had a second, completely debilitating, orgasm. I had to roll off to the side to keep from crushing her I felt so weak.

For the next eighteen hours I kept her tied up, allowing her up only to go to the bathroom and shower, although I kept a tight hold on her at all times. I did remove her gag to let her drink and eat at breakfast time, but once she started spewing invectives I gagged her again.

I fucked her four times in total, counting the episode in the shower, my most orgasms in a short period of time in my life. In addition I sucked her tits or licked her pussy almost the entire time that I wasn't fucking her. She constantly fought and moved whenever I fucked her, or even licked her, and unless I was careful about pinning down or tying up a limb she would smack me with it. Not only my cock and tongue, but my entire body, was so sore by the time that it was two o'clock in the afternoon I groaned with each movement.

At two o'clock I untied her. She was almost comatose at the time, and had bruises on a number of parts of her body. She just groaned as I removed her gag. "We only have an hour before the time you promised Harold that we'd turn ourselves in," I told her.

"Oh, shit..." she moaned. "I feel like I've been fucked once and raped three times; oh wait, I have," she said, breaking into a big grin.

We took a warm shower together, washing all of the cum and sweat off each other, but no sex -- our mating parts were so sore that there was no possibility of that. We ate a late lunch, drank about a liter of sparkling water each, and then got dressed. Just before we left our room Carleigh put her arms around my neck, stared into my eyes, and said "Thanks," then gave me a big kiss.

After we broke our hold I said "Thank you," then pinched her ass.

"No PDA, Ryan-- got it?" she giggled.

"Hell, I wouldn't want anyone to get the idea that I enjoyed being with you," I snickered, getting me a playful poke in the ribs.

When we got to the police station at 3:15 at first the cops didn't believe us. My photo looked pretty much like me now that I had shaved -- although I had lost about fifteen pounds so my face was gaunt. Carleigh, however, looked absolutely nothing like the photo that they had of Vile Bitch & ½ so despite Carleigh's gabber they were skeptical.

Finally Carleigh cleared an area in the police station and a cappella sang one of her most famous songs, complete with gross movements although since she had regular clothes on the effect was -- thankfully -- mitigated. I don't think that the cop's zippers would have survived if she had been dressed as Vile Bitch.

After a ten second shocked delay when she concluded her performance the cops laughed, cheered, clapped, and hugged both Carleigh and me. The cops made a call to the general -- yes a real general, the Russians weren't messing around -- in charge of the search for us.

The word got around the town quickly. I think that the town's population was about 5,000, and I wouldn't be surprised if at one time or another everyone there came by the local school were the police brought us to ask for Carleigh's autograph, or just to gawk. Carleigh gleefully signed at least five hundred autographs including a good dozen jackets of her video. She was especially pleased to sign those and chat with their owners. Of course I didn't understand a word that they said.

I just stood next to Carleigh and smiled -- that is until she turned to me and said "These kids," pointing to three little boys, probably eight to ten years old, "want the 'Big Man's' autograph. Here's a pen, I'll get another one." I probably signed three dozen autographs myself, the first and only time in my life I've been asked to do that.

General Orlov himself arrived in a helicopter with a complete entourage, and diplomatically broke up the love fest between Carleigh and the townspeople. The police, general, and every minor politician and dignitary in the area, had their photo taken with Carleigh. Then the general shooed everyone else out of the school and started debriefing Carleigh and me.

The general himself, along with two of his aides, talked to Carleigh in Russian. Two other aides who spoke English -- one of them better than I do -- interviewed me. The general had a big dinner spread brought in, and we continued to talk through dinner and afterwards. With one of the general's aides I went to our hotel and retrieved the AK-47 and clip and gave them to the aide, and then returned to the school.

When one of the aides brought out a bottle of slivovitz I knew that we were done with the questioning.

Even Carleigh had a few slips of slivovitz -- I know that she was just being polite because she absolutely never drank -- when the general proposed a toast. After a couple of drinks the general came over to me and gave me a big hug and chattered a long string of Russian words. The translator smiled and said "General Orlov says that he is honored to make your acquaintance and wishes that you could join the Russian Special Forces; that you are a hero to all Russians."

"Please tell General Orlov that I am honored and humbled by his kind words," I replied with a grin.

Since thirty Russian soldiers had arrived by land by 8:00 p.m. General Orlov decided that it would be OK for Carleigh and me to spend the night in the hotel, with two soldiers posted outside our door and ten in the hotel lobby, to prevent anyone from bothering us. He flew back to his headquarters but promised to send a helicopter for us the next day to fly us to an airfield, and from there by military jet to Moscow.

When we got back to our room I asked Carleigh "What did you tell General Orlov about me? He gave me a hug and said some flattering things."

Carleigh put her arms around my neck, softly kissed me on the lips, and said "I told him that you're not as weak and inconsequential as you look," then smiled and gave me another kiss.

"Thanks," I smirked and gave her a kiss.

We fell asleep in each other's arms, totally wasted. No sex -- we were both still way too sore -- but we did shower together the next morning and I sucked her tits while she fondled my balls.

The trip to Moscow was about 1100 miles as the crow flies. After a nice breakfast we were whisked by helicopter to a military air field and from there we each rode in a different jet fighter so that we landed in Moscow within two hours of when we boarded the helicopter. We were treated like royalty the entire way and shockingly were transported from the military air field in a motorcade to the Premier's office.

Carleigh chatted away with the Premier and his staff while I just smiled, shook hands, and constantly said "Spasibo (Спасибо)," that is "Thank You."

After meeting with the press (Russian and International) for two hours we had a State Dinner, for which we were provided formal clothing. By the time that it was over we were ready to turn in. We were given complementary separate, but connecting, rooms in the nicest hotel in Moscow. As soon as I got into my room I heard a knock on the connecting door, opened my side of it, and Carleigh came in. "We need one last fuck; actually, I wonder if you'd make love to me," she said with the first demure look I had ever seen on her face.

Our slow, deliberate, sexual encounter that night was close to making love, far different than the last three times that we had fucked, but almost as enjoyable, and a lot less taxing on our bodies. Carleigh returned to her room early in the morning and we locked the connecting doors.

Our little journey almost doubled Vile Bitch's popularity. While she was concerned that people seeing what she actually looked like would turn off her hard core fans, the numerous photos of her published in the International Press seemed to increase the air of mystery about her, and her videos were either flying off the shelves, or being downloaded, at four times the pre-journey rate.

Alas, as Carleigh had warned me, when we got back to the States she turned into Vile Bitch & ½ again, both in appearance and attitude. She did give me a $50,000 bonus, but aside from that I was treated no differently than before. While I had convinced myself that I could turn back into just being a bodyguard that wasn't realistic because even though I never was actually in love with Carleigh, I was passionately in lust with her, now even her Vile Bitch & ½ persona.

After her next tour, when she had a chance to get another bodyguard, I gave her one month's notice then quit. The only thing she ever said to me about it was a phone call when she simply mumbled "I understand; maybe our paths will cross again," then hung up.

The notoriety associated with my little expedition with Carleigh made it pretty easy to get a new job. In fact, I got a job as an instructor in an academy for bodyguards. I took that over other options because it had fairly regular hours, predictable vacations, and though not as lucrative as working for Vile Bitch, decent money. It even allowed me to date, although I never found anyone that could hold a candle to Carleigh's sex appeal.

A week before the one year anniversary of when Carleigh and I were taken captive I got a call from Vile Bitch herself. There was no bullshit.

"Hi, Ryan, this is Carleigh."

"Hi Carleigh -- you're not calling me as Vile Bitch?"

"No, just as plain ole Carleigh."

"It's really nice to hear from you; I hope that things are going well."

"My two new bodyguards aren't as good as you were, but I'm making scads of money."

"Great," I chuckled.

"I'll get right to the point, Ryan. Next week is the one year anniversary of our little outdoors experience. I'd like to celebrate it by taking you to Hawaii for a week -- all expenses paid, just you and me," she said in a matter-of-fact voice. "Can you get the time off, and more importantly do you want to come?"

I laughed. "If I can't get the time off I'll quit -- and as for whether I want to come, does the Pope poop in the woods?"

*

Alright, so I mixed my metaphors. I wasn't thinking straight with the memories of our last time together hijacking my brain. So sue me!