"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice." Jacqueline Astor just smiled and nodded, casually waving away the expression of thanks. "It was no problem at all," she smiled. "It's my job." Brushing back her shoulder-length brown hair, the doctor handed over the clipboard on which the patient registration forms had been laid out. Lisa Forbes took the clipboard and began filling out the forms. The doctor surreptitiously examined her new patients. It was difficult to believe that this woman was in her mid-thirties, and the mother of a seventeen year-old daughter. With her long brown hair and trim figure, Lisa could have passed for a woman ten years her junior. In fact, Lisa and her daughter almost looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. They might even have been twins - they both had the same cute features and bright blue eyes - except that Anna's short, curly hair was a honey blonde. A "gift" from her father, Lisa had explained, grimacing. The doctor turned her attention to the daughter, who had remained silent during the initial interview. 'Shy', Lisa had explained. Shy or not, she was a beauty. Lisa finished filling out the forms and handed them over. "Thanks," Dr. Astor said, looking quickly examining them, "This should..." She stopped speaking and looked up. "There's no previous address or next of kin." Embarrassed, Lisa Forbes smiled apologetically at the young doctor. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just that, well... with the move and... and everything..." She shrugged her shoulders, unwilling to complete the statement. She didn't have to; Jacqueline Astor knew all about the mother and daughter's recent move to the little town of Point Hope in southern California; she knew all about Lisa's messy separation and, ultimately, divorce from her alcoholic and likely abusive husband back home in Nebraska. All this information had come out during the initial registration. Nikki would doubtless have it all down on the computer by now. It was perfect. Jacqueline selected an understanding smile and carefully arranged it on her face. She had to play this just right. "Oh that's fine," she said, open and friendly. "That information's not vital. I understand." Lisa breathed a sigh of relief, relieved that it wasn't going to be a problem. She had been prepared to withhold the information, even if it meant losing this doctor. Still, it usually took weeks to get appointments with specialists, and with their insurance situation up in the air... well, they were more than a little lucky to have come across someone like Dr. Astor. "Just make certain to be on time for your Friday appointment," the doctor said, "We'll go over those test results and see what we can do about getting the both of you to a GP as soon as possible. I think I might be able to arrange something for you in that department." Lisa blushed. She really hadn't expected such kindness; especially on her first day in town! Back home in Lincoln, folks were warned about the kind of people one met in places like California. It seemed that the warnings were misguided. Stammering out a final round of 'thanks', she bundled her silent daughter out of the reception area. "Nikki" "Yes?" Nikki Crawford, Dr. Astor's receptionist and secretary, poked her head out past the entrance to her little office. She was in her mid-twenties, with short blonde hair and a tight, athletic body. "Would you print out a copy of the new Forbes file? I want to review it." "Right away." "And cancel all my other appointments after the Forbes appointment on Friday afternoon." The blonde receptionist looked startled, but didn't comment. "I'll make the calls first thing tomorrow." She paused for a second, looking thoughtful. Then she continued speaking. "Right after I send in the insurance forms for the Forbes." "Oh don't bother with that," the doctor ordered. "I want to go over a few things with them beforehand." Once again, the receptionist looked surprised. Until those insurance forms were signed and mailed in, the practice would not be able to bill for any time spent with the Forbes. "As you wish." Looking thoughtful, Nikki Crawford went back into her office to print up the file. She bit her lip, deep in thought as the laser printer spat out the requested forms. When it was finished, she delivered them to her employer as ordered and then left the office. Dr. Astor watched, peering through the office window as Nikki drove away in her green Tercel. The doctor knew it would take the girl about twenty or so minutes to get home. She glanced over at an answering machine sitting on her desk; a small red light indicated that it was ready and waiting. Well... she would see what she would see. Sighing, Dr. Astor (now Jacqueline Astor - the office was closed) sat down at her desk and reviewed the file on Lisa and Anna Forbes. They seemed perfect. The pair had just moved into Point Hope after leaving Nebraska; no one in town knew them and no one from home knew that they were here. The presence of a drunken, potentially abusive ex-husband had caused Lisa Forbes to keep their present location a secret from all of her old friends back home. And since there had been no registration sent in from the doctor's office, there was no record of their ever having been there at all. Just a computer file that could be erased with the push of a finger. Jacqueline's hand drifted down to her crotch and began to rub as she made the final decision on her course of action. She would make the call that evening: the El-Maceia, perhaps. It had been too long since the last sale. And it was not just the money - although that was important of course. There were other things she needed as well. Perhaps it was time for a session with Michelle... Michelle Myers fought to stay awake. It was not that she wanted to stay awake; for the last several months, her every waking moment had been a nightmare of pain and sexual torture. Given an option, she would certainly have chosen unconsciousness. But if she fell asleep - or even started to drift off - she would begin to lose her upright posture; she would start to slump; she would teeter on the six inch highheels locked onto her slender ankles. And that would have the effect of putting pressure on the two fishhooks embedded in her nipples and connected, by way of the fishing line which ran tautly upwards, to a pair of bolts on the ceiling. Moaning, the girl fought against the exhaustion which threatened to overwhelm her - she had been in this position for well over twelve hours - and tried to stand steady. However, try as she might, she was unable to keep her mind from drifting; drifting back to days before this endless torture had begun. She had been young then - it seemed like years ago, although it was barely eight months. Only a few years out of high school, the job as a receptionist for Dr. Astor had seemed a godsend. The work was interesting and not too hard. And the doctor had seemed so nice; so friendly. Then came the day she had returned to the office late on a Friday evening to pick up a Stephen King novel she had forgotten there. It was not in her work station, so she pushed open the heavy wooden door leading to her employer's office. As she looked around for the book, she became aware of a noise, a high-pitched whine... almost a scream, coming from behind the door in the back of the office. A door she had always assumed led to a private lavatory. Curious, she pushed it open and went inside. It was a lavatory, but there was another doorway sitting open behind an enclosed shower. For the first time, Michelle began to feel frightened, but she pushed on. The screaming sound was louder now. She stepped into the shower and stepped through the door... ...and into a nightmare. Michelle had never imagined that the doctor - that ANY human being could be capable of such... such acts. The blood... the screams... that young girl, she couldn't have been more than sixteen years old - A PATIENT! (omygodomygodomygod) - lying strapped over the examination table, squealing in agony as the doctor - Dr. Astor? - stood behind her; thrusting... thrusting... thrusting... The world seemed to rush away from her and narrow to a pinpoint as she stood, fear-crazed and stupefied, struck dumb by the scene in front of her. It seemed like hours... it seemed like seconds... She must have screamed. She had no memory of it, but she must have done so, because she became dimly aware of a new wailing sound, rising up to join the screams and cries of the young girl. Unable to move, the receptionist watched as Dr. Astor pulled away from her young victim and turned in slow motion to face the intruder. It wasn't until she saw the huge dildo strapped onto her employer's crotch - large... black... red... brown... - that the wailing stopped, as if shut off by the throwing of some unseen switch, and the floor rushed up to caress her face black and blue... and then, finally, black again. She didn't know how long she had been unconscious. When she woke up, she found herself strapped down to the examination table, naked, with locked legs trapped and spread up over her head in the metal stirrups. Dr. Astor stood above her, gently stroking her face with the back of her hand. "There we are," she crooned softly, her voice soothing and gentle. "All awake now. All ready to play." Michelle struggled to talk; to scream; to beg. But it was no use. Something that felt like a large plastic ball was fastened into her mouth with a leather strap. "I've sent my little playmate off to her new owners," Astor smirked, noting her victim's panic. "Just like all the rest: break them in - have a little fun with them - and then off they go." She reached down and began playing with Michelle's exposed nipples, pinching and prodding. The girl tried to pull away, but there was nowhere to go. "Profitable perhaps, but it gets a little lonely sometimes. That's what you're for." Suddenly intense, Dr. Astor leaned down and put her face up close to that of her terrified prisoner. "The others will come and go, come and go, but you... you I'll keep. My own toy; my pet. We'll have such fun together, you and I." Smiling, she straightened up and reached over to the instrument tray. After a quick search, she picked up a small, silver-shiny scalpel. "Now, where shall we begin?" ***** Breathless, Nikki Crawford dropped her keys on the kitchen counter and picked up the phone. There was no need to check a phone book for the number; she knew it well. "Hender, please" she said, fighting to keep the excitement out of her voice. She was a professional now and she would behave like one. "Tell him this is Special Agent Crawford." She waited impatiently. "Lance? This is Nikki. Yes... I think she's making a move. We have a couple of new patients that fit the profile... yes; I know. You were right about the stake-out, but... yes, but it's been over four months now... OK. Right. I understand; no moves until we find out as much as possible. Right. OK... No false alarms. I'll report in again when I know more." Sighing, she hung up the phone. Spending four months as a receptionist in a doctor's office had starkly underlined the reasons she had joined the Bureau in the first place. Her first job! She had expected things to be different. Still, it was just about over... In the now-dark doctor's office, the answering machine continued to run for a moment and then it shut itself off. The small red light blinked... blinked... blinked... indicating that it had captured a call to tape. ***** Friday afternoon. Lisa and Anna had shown up right on time. They had the waiting room to themselves, as Nikki had cancelled all of the other afternoon appointments as per the doctor's instructions. "Doctor Astor will see you now." Nikki, smiling, led the mother and daughter into the florescent, sterile-white examination room. After seeing them settled in, she went through the back door into Dr. Astor's office. "They're ready," she announced, handing the doctor a clipboard with the relevant files. "Thank you." Dr. Astor took the clipboard, but appeared somewhat distracted. Shrugging, Nikki turned to leave. "That will be all for today Nikki," the doctor called after her. "I won't be needing you any more." Frowning, Nikki turned to protest. "But doctor..." "I said that will be all." All trace of distraction vanished as Jacqueline Astor focused her attention on her receptionist. "Do you understand?" "Yes doctor," Nikki acceded, all thoughts of disagreement melting away before her employer's anger. Without another word, she turned and left the office. A few minutes later, she was out on the street in front of the office, debating whether or not to call Hender. 'Better wait,' she decided. Hender had instructed her that the Bureau would not be acting until they had learned all they could about the doctor's operations. Special Agent Nikki Crawford decided that she would wait for a while and then head back into the office to check things out. If she was right about what was going to happen, the Bureau would learn plenty... ***** Lisa opened her eyes. She didn't know where she was. She didn't even remember falling asleep. What had happened? "Mommy!" ANNA! Lisa tried to sit up, but found that she was unable to do so; she was fastened down on the examination table by what felt like some sort of chain around her neck. Her hands and the rest of her body were free, but she was effectively held down by the neck chain. "Anna," she cried, pulling uselessly at the chain around her neck. It began to choke her as she tugged at it. "Where are you?" "Mommy!" This time the cry degenerated into a scream of pain. Desperately, Lisa turned her head to see what was happening to her daughter. If she twisted and pulled - effectively cutting off the passage of air through her windpipe - the desperate mother was able to see her daughter at the other side of the room. Anna was naked, held down on the lap of Dr. Astor who was now wearing nothing more than an unbuttoned white lab coat. The teenager twisted and squirmed weakly, but was unable to pull away from the evil woman, who fondled and abused her. One hand held tight in the struggling girl's curly blonde hair while the other roamed free over her body: first fondling and squeezing the girl's small, well formed titties and then sliding down to her exposed crotch, pinching, prodding and then - impossibly; inevitably - sliding inside. Up until then, Anna didn't seem to have been struggling very hard - was she drugged? - but that got a reaction. "MOM!" "Anna!" Lisa thrashed about on the examination, struggling furiously to escape, but was unable to do anything other than watch helplessly as the woman - the doctor - casually took her young daughter's virginity. Anna started wailing as the doctor began sliding her finger roughly in and out of her dry pussy. "No!!!" This time, Lisa's cry of anguish brought a response. Dr. Astor brought her head up and looked over at the woman she earlier had chained down to the examination table. Lisa flinched back as she saw the strange, almost dazed, look in the woman's glowing green eyes. "Ah," the doctor smirked, "I see the BITCH is finally awake." She looked down at Anna, who had stopped fighting and was just sitting, limp and broken on her lap, and then back up at the mother. "Ready to join the fun?" At the word 'bitch', Lisa felt a warm surge of... of something - lust?? - flow through her body, starting in her pussy and spreading rapidly up through the rest of her body. What was happening to her? The doctor, noticing the confused play of emotions across her victim's face, smirked. "Did you like that you little SLUT?" she asked as she continued to rape Anna with her fingers. The horrified mother again felt the impossible surge of lust. She struggled to close her legs, to keep her hands away from her crotch - to do anything to reject the feeling in her pussy - but it was no use. Laughing, Dr. Astor jerked her fingers out from where she had been sliding them in and out of the Anna's bleeding pussy. Anna jerked in pain and started crying again. Pausing only to rub clean her bloody fingers on her sobbing victim's blonde hair, the doctor dumped the girl onto the floor and walked slowly across to the examination table, where the girl's mother was chained by the neck. Lisa struggled madly, both to break free and to fight down the waves of unnatural lust crashing over her body. She lost both battles. Smirking at the woman's futile struggle, the doctor leaned over and put her face up close to her victim's fear-crazed eyes. "You're enjoying this," she murmured, "aren't you bitch?" Another surge of sexual heat. Lisa shook her head. "No..." Dr. Astor slowly - excruciatingly - dragged one of her long, sharp, painted nails down the woman's trembling leg and onto her exposed pussy. Involuntarily, Lisa's legs closed on the hand, as if trying to suck it into her sopping cunt. The doctor obliged, sinking her finger deep inside and twisting it around. A few seconds later, she brought a shiny, wet finger up to the woman's face. "Your pussy says otherwise," she whispered. "Have a taste." It was too much. Lisa clamped her mouth firmly shut and turned away. The doctor just smiled. "Have a taste," she repeated. "Slut." Lisa moaned in lust. 'Just one taste,' she thought. 'Just this once.' She had to do it! With a groan of defeat, she opened her mouth, her warm wet tongue lapping invitingly over her lower lip. Dr. Astor slid her finger in and Lisa was soon sucking avidly, now completely unable to resist the waves of lust that engulfed her body. "That's right bitch," {yesyesyesyesyes} the doctor crooned in a mock soothing voice. "You have a nice suck while I explain a few things." Lisa moaned as Dr. Astor slid her free hand down and began toying with her victim's sopping pussy. "I'm not really a doctor; at least, not the kind of doctor you came to see. I am - was - a psychiatrist, specializing in hypnosis. I lost my licence after a little... incident a few years back. You see, I have certain tastes. Tastes which my skill in hypnosis allowed me to indulge. It used to be just for my own pleasure, but since the college revoked my licence, I've been forced to find a new career." All through this little speech, Lisa could feel herself becoming more and more aroused as the doctor fondled her body. She was now squirming on the examination table, sucking as hard as she could on the doctor's finger, trying desperately to come. Dr. Astor, however, knew what she was doing; every time Lisa started building towards an orgasm, she would pull her hand away. Lisa would thrust her hips forward, desperate for the pressure against her pussy. Eventually, her excitement would die down, and the doctor would begin playing with her again. "Now I'm a saleswoman," Dr. Astor continued. "I specialize in finding - and training - bitches {almosttherealmostthere} like you for certain customers..." Lisa wasn't even listening anymore. She had to come. SHE HAD TO... "And, of course, there's always a market for a mother and daughter team." Lisa twisted and bucked under the doctor's expert hands... "So, I've spent a little time in your head, setting things up for your training. Every time you hear certain words - bitch {another}, slut {wave}, whore {of}, cocksucker {LUST!!!} and others {OHGODOHGOD0OHGODOHGOD} you will feel uncontrollable lust." The doctor paused and looked down in satisfaction as the young mother twisted and whined on the examination table. "But you won't be able to come - ever - until you hear one, certain word." "Please... please... please..." "Listen bitch {!!!!!!}, will you do what I say?" "Please..." "Whore {!!!}, will you help me train your daughter? Will you help her become the same kind of cumslutbitchwhorecocksucker {!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!} as her mother?" "YES! YES! YES... I'll help you turn her into whore, a bitch, a cocksucker... anything... just let me..." Dr. Astor turned and looked over at Anna, who had been watching the activity on the examination table with wide, frightened eyes. Her pussy had stopped bleeding, but it still ached with the pain of the defilement. And now... what was her mother saying? "Please... please... PLEASE..." Dr. Astor looked down and smiled. "OK. You can come now. CUNT!" "Arrghhh..." Lisa twisted and thrashed on the table, screaming with release as the orgasm which had been building up in her body for so long finally exploded in full force, sending wave after wave of intense pleasure crashing through her body. Dr. Astor nodded in satisfaction. The suggestions and responses she had implanted earlier were working perfectly. The first time was always the most difficult; after that, it became easier and easier until, finally, the subject would be completely addicted. Soon, Lisa would willingly - abjectly - do anything she was told; anything at all in order to be allowed the release the orgasms would bring her. This was going to be an easy one... Nikki Crawford silently cursed herself for not keeping her service revolver with her. Over the months of surveillance, she had grown careless, leaving it at home rather than bringing it with her to her 'job' as a receptionist for the doctor. Now, when she really needed it, it was sitting at home, useless and forgotten in her desk drawer. The office door was locked. Strange, given the fact that no one had left. Nikki once again considered reporting in to Hender and calling for backup, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Hender had been explicit in his instructions that she wasn't to call in unless she had proof. Well, she'd get him his proof. She reached into her purse and pulled out the key. Not the usual office key, the one opening the receptionist's area in the front of the office, but Dr. Astor's key; or, rather, the duplicate she had gotten made up after 'borrowing' her employer's key. This one opened not only the main office door, but the other areas as well. She slipped it in and twisted. The locked turned over with a small click. Heart pounding furiously, Nikki Crawford pushed the door open. "Mom... NO!" Lisa Forbes, naked and unrestrained, stood behind her young daughter, her brown hair matted down over her forehead. She wore a large, black, strap-on dildo. Her hands worked furiously up and down the black monster, covering it with grease as she had been ordered to do by the doctor. "That's right you bitch," Dr. Astor told her. "Grease it up real good." Lisa shuddered with obscene delight as the doctor's words triggered the hypnotic suggestion and the now-familiar - now fervently longed-after - wave of pleasure rocked her naked body. Nothing mattered now; nothing other than pleasing her mistress so she could hear those words again. She lived to hear those words. Those wonderful words... She didn't have long to wait. "Now, you stupid slut, shove it in. Ream your daughter's asshole until it bleeds." "Mommy..." Ignoring her daughter's cry for mercy, Lisa obeyed, shoving the glistening phallus into her daughter's virgin asshole. Anna was bent over the examination table, held down by a set of leather cuffs wrapped around her thin wrists and clipped to the legs of the table. Anna twisted and bucked, but her mother gripped the teenager's narrow thighs with a strength born of madness and shoved forward as hard as she could. Anna squealed herself hoarse with pain and horror as the invader slipped past her desperately-squirming sphincter muscles and invaded her ass. The pain was unimaginable. "Now fuck her, bitch." Lisa shuddered with pleasure and began sawing the dildo in and out as fast as she could, eyes vacant, drool seeping over her slack lower lip and dripping down onto her sweating, hard-nippled breasts. Maybe if she did well enough... maybe she would be allowed to experience another orgasm. Maybe... Dr. Astor leaned down in front of Anna's tear-stained face. The girl had stopped screaming now; she just stared straight ahead, her mouth wide open in a silent mask of shock and pain. But she was silent. Unable to resist, the doctor moved forward and pressed her lips against those of her young victim. Anna tried to turn her head, but was unable to escape. All she could do was lie there in silent agony as her mother raped her ass and the doctor explored the inside of her mouth with her tongue. Nikki heard the screaming, but couldn't make out the words. The noise seemed to be coming from behind the door to the examination room, but when she tried to open it, she found that it had been bolted shut from the other side. Shit. Then she remembered: there was another way in. Through the doctor's office; there was a back entrance. Maybe she could get in through there. Time passed... Jacqueline Astor let her head hang back as she enjoyed the extraordinary sensation of Anna's hard-working, if inexperienced tongue. Inexperienced because the poor girl had never serviced another woman's pussy before; hard-working because the girl's mother, panting and whining with the need to orgasm, was bringing a large paddle down on the girl's reddening ass, all the time urging her daughter to 'make the mistress come'. Jacqueline had told Lisa that when she came, she would say the word that would allow Lisa to orgasm. Lisa had immediately grabbed her daughter by the hair and shoved the crying girl in between the doctor's legs. She then began 'encouraging' her with the large paddle. Thus motivated, the seventeen year-old had stuck out her little pink tongue and begun work. "Little bitch... little whore..." The doctor kept up a constant string of verbal abuse. The words served both to degrade the girl - to teach her her new role in life - and to keep the girl's mother on edge. A light blinked on over the main door. "Fuck." Dr. Astor pushed Anna's head away. The young girl, eyes glazed with pain and face covered with pussy juice, sat back on her heels. "Get her to suck your own pussy, whore," Astor ordered, pulling the medical lab coat back around her body. She was angry at having her pleasure frustrated, but had a pretty good idea of what was happening. "When I get back we'll get serious." Lisa obeyed instantly. Once again, she grabbed her daughter by the hair, but this time pulled her young daughter around and jammed the girl's face into her own crotch rather than the doctor's. "Come to mommy," she burbled, half insane with lust. Anna - limp and broken - stuck her face in her mother's pussy and began licking. Dr. Astor left them there, going over to a drawer and taking out a hypodermic needle she had prepared that morning for just such an event. It paid, in her experience, to be prepared. Nikki froze, halted in her tracks by the sight that greeted her as she entered the doctor's private office (locked of course, but susceptible to the copied key). It was a girl. She was naked, her pink flesh pocked and matted with criss- crossing scars. Mute testimony to innumerable sessions with the whip; the cane; the scalpel; the match... Stunned, Nikki moved slowly forward. Her horror grew as the details of the girl's present condition grew apparent. She was bent over backwards, back arched and chest shoved forward, over a small stool. Her whip-stained breasts defied gravity, reaching straight up to the ceiling. They were held that way by two long strips of elastic which ran from the ceiling down to a pair of fishhooks stuck deep through the girl's nipples. The more she relaxed, the harder the elastic pulled. This was just the beginning, though. The girl's legs were pulled wide and fastened to the floor with leather cuffs, exposing her pussy; exposing what had been done to it. The flesh to each side of it had been pierced with large, silver rings. Elastic straps had been attached through these rings and ran through a D-ring on the base of a large dildo which jutted obscenely from the poor girl's pussy. These straps ran down through her ass-crack, under her body and across to her head, where they had been fastened to the long, brown braid of her sweat-matted hair. If she tried to pull her head up, this in turn would pull on the dildo, propelling the massive instrument further into her already-tortured pussy. As well, a tight strap from a large ring in her nose ran down her chest to the fishhooks in her nipples. Thus, if she moved her head forward, the dildo was pulled further into her pussy; if she moved her head back, this put pressure on the hooks in her nipples. A lose-lose situation. Finally, the girl's arms had been fastened tightly to her ankles, making it almost impossible for her to move. As if she'd want to. Breathlessly, tears filling her eyes and caution all but forgotten, Nikki rushed forward to help. Michelle felt her awareness being tugged from its accustomed niche in the haze of pain that was her existence. Blearily, she opened her eyes to see a young blonde woman, dressed in the uniform of a receptionist, bend over her, mumbling something about not being afraid. As if she could ever not be afraid again. Still, despite all that had happened to her, Michelle still had some spirit left. That's why - if she could have; if the ring punched through her tongue and threaded through the holes in her lips in such a way as to prevent her from ever pulling her tongue back into her mouth - she would have cried out a warning as she saw Dr. Astor appear from the examination room and bend over her unsuspecting rescuer. But she couldn't. The ring in her tongue had effectively reduced her powers of speech to an incoherent grunting and moaning, neither of which served as an effective warning. Michelle could do nothing but watch in horror as Dr. Astor plunged the hypodermic needle into her rescuer's arm. The woman turned and tried to struggle - she was strong and quick - but whatever drug the doctor had used was proving all too effective. Within seconds, the woman - the rescuer - was lying unconscious on the floor. Unable to prevent herself, Michelle began to cry helpless tears. It had been weeks since she had cried. Dr. Astor looked over at her and smiled. "Michelle," she said, "Feeling lonely?" The doctor walked over to the bound girl and opened the lab coat. Smiling an evil smile, she straddled her victim's face and ground her pussy into her mouth. "Let's put that tongue of your to work," she ordered. The pain was incredible as the weight of Dr. Astor's body pushed her head downward, tightening the pressure on the fishhooks, but Michelle stuck out her pierced tongue and began lapping at her tormentor's pussy. She knew - oh how she knew - that no matter how bad the pain got, it could always get worse. And, of course, it always did. Despite the fact that he had spent many of his recent years in the Bureau behind a desk, Special Agent Lance Hender was still able to break open the locked door with a single shove of his shoulder. Pistol in hand, he lead three of his men into the silent waiting room of Dr. Astor's office. He gestured two of the men through a door into what looked like an examination room and led the other one along a hallway into the doctor's office. He was familiar with the layout from Nikki's reports. Nikki! He hated it when one of his people went missing. Particularly when it was a promising new agent like Nikki Crawford. Particularly on this kind of assignment. The rooms were empty. The paraphernalia of the medical practice had been left behind, but all records, all evidence of who had been there and what had happened had been wiped clean. Or had it? "Hender." He looked over. Bateman was holding up a manila envelope. It had Hender's name scrawled on the front. "Take a look." The man looked like he was going to throw up. What the hell? Hender took the envelope and looked inside. Pictures. He slid them onto the desk and took a close look. Oh god. Nikki! ...this kind of assignment. He stared for a few moments - for an eternity - before slowly replacing the pictures in the envelope. He was proud of the fact that his hands trembled only slightly. His men gathered around, waiting for orders. Hender looked up. "Make a full search. Fingerprints... the works." He knew they wouldn't find anything, but they had to try. Hender briefly allowed his mind to skirt over the images on the pictures; just for a moment, before filing them away in the compartment of his mind reserved for dealing with situations where his agents went down in the field. As usual, he would deal with it later on, by himself. At night. With the aid of rather a considerable amount of whisky. ...this kind of assignment... EPILOGUE The bartender gazed sadly at the long row of glasses that needed wiping. Sighing to himself, he picked up a grimy towel and set to work. Really, though, he didn't know why he bothered. People - customers... gringos... whatever - they didn't come to the El-Maceia for the cleanliness or for the decor. The only thing that saved the club from looking like a complete pest-hole was the fact that the lighting was usually kept low enough to shroud the general shabbiness of the place in a forgiving darkness. Likewise, they didn't come for the booze. Sure, they served all kinds of alcohol at the El-Maceia, but so did lot's of other places. And, if you didn't mind cheap Mexican beer, most other places were less expensive too. No, they came for one reason and one reason only: sex. Not only did the El-Maceia boast an infamous whorehouse - with, incidentally, a large number of white-skinned Americano girls from up north - but it also ran the raunchiest live sex show in all of Mexico. Or so said the rep. On the well-lit stage, the club's newest act - a mother and daughter team - performed the first of their three shows for the evening. Only a week into their run, they were already a big hit; particularly the daughter, with her curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Well... not so bright anymore. The current part of the act featured the mother fucking her daughter's ass with a large dildo. A man, their 'keeper', stood behind her, whispering gringo words that most of the customers didn't understand: "bitch... whore... slut." Whatever the words, they seemed to drive the woman wild. (But, then, it was always like that with the doctor's merchandise.) She groaned and panted with lust as she drove the gigantic cock deep into her daughter's asshole. The girl was obviously in a lot of pain - unlike the mother, she wasn't being sexually aroused - but she had been trained not to show it. She almost succeeded too, with her large, fake smile and hoarse panting. The second show involved caning and a display of lesbian action culminating in a long, hot 'sixty-nine'. It was the last act, however, the one with the dogs that really got the customers going. The keeper figured that these two had a good six months in them before they would have to be 'retired' to a mining camp somewhere in the interior. Six months of packed houses and satisfied customers. The bartender - who also owned the club - smiled at the thought. Meanwhile, his new waitress was kneeling under a table, sucking hungrily at a customer's cock. She was also quite new, having arrived in the same shipment as the performers. It was her job to prance about, naked except for high-heels and two shiny, silver badges marked 'FBI' stuck permanently through her nipples (She had arrived like that. No one believed that she was really a member of the FBI, but everyone agreed that the badges looked good, despite covering her nipples), from table to table, taking orders and - when requested - sliding under the table to relieve the customer's sexual excitement. Unlike the two on stage, this one had put up a bit of a struggle. It wasn't until after a couple of sessions with the cane and one memorable night with the tailor's donkey that her spirit finally broke. Now, with her shiny bright badges glittering on her chest and vacant please-fuck-me bimbo-smile on her face, she was a huge hit with the customers, usually servicing a score of them nightly. The bartender kept her chained naked at the foot of his bed at night. On stage, the act reached its climax, the mother screaming out in uncontrollable ecstasy as her keeper said the magic word. The club, packed as usual, erupted into a cacophony of applause and catcalls, and the stage was showered with money. Still on her knees, the waitress crossed to another table and started work on another cock. Another good night at the El-Maceia. The bartender smiled again. And there were still two shows to go... Nikki struggled to regain consciousness. She had managed to twist her arm away so that most of whatever drug had been in the needle had gone into the sleeve of her jacket, but the needle had still broken skin, and enough of the drug had entered her bloodstream to make her dizzy and confused. There was a distinct blackness around the edge of her vision and she flirted with unconsciousness, but somehow she stayed awake. Unwillingly, the room wavered back into focus. Or did it? Nikki could only blink her eyes in disbelief at the sight which greeted her. Dr. Astor, naked under a white lab coat which was bunched up around her waist, was straddling the bound girl, brutally grinding her crotch into the girl's face. Every time she bore down, the bands pulling the girl's breasts upwards strained another few inches. Already, the poor girl's nipples were being pulled out from a good two inches from the breast. Nikki lay there for a few more moments, gathering her strength. As she focused on what was happening, and what she was going to have to do, she found it easier to fight off the effects of the drugs. She grew steadier and became aware of a shouting in the examination room. It sounding like a girl screaming something about... what, her mother? It must be the Forbes! Nikki gathered her strength and pulled herself to her feet. In her weakened state, she was unable to be as stealthy as she would have liked, but it didn't matter. The doctor was fully occupied with her pleasures. She was playing with her own breasts as she rode the poor girl's face, and her head was thrown back, eyes open... She never knew what hit her. Slowly, impossibly, Michelle felt the pain ease off. Despite being certain that this was just another trick of the doctors's, she was unable to resist fanning the tiny spark of hope that flickered in her heart. Please... It was true. Line by line; cuff by cuff; hook by hook, she was slowly released from her bondage. When she was finally free - FINALLY FREE!! - she was unable to do anything except hug her rescuer and cry. The nightmare was over. At least for her. Nikki, who had left to check on the examination room, returned, pale and shaking. Michelle didn't have to ask; she'd seen the results of the doctor's work before. She could well imagine the state Lisa and Anna Forbes were in. Wordlessly, the two women stared at each other with bleak expressions and then looked down at the floor where Dr. Astor lay unconscious. How could a human being... The phone rang. Nikki walked over and picked it up. The person on the other end - a man - spoke with a Mexican accent. When she realized what the man was saying, she almost hung up the phone, but - as she looked over the tortured form of Michelle Myers, and listened to the screams of young Anna Forbes as her brainwashed mother sexually abused her - an idea occurred to her. It wasn't legal; it wasn't ethical; and it sure as hell wasn't professional. But it was a good idea. A slow smile spread across her face as she began talking... EPILOGUE The bartender gazed sadly at the long row of glasses that needed wiping. Sighing to himself, he picked up a grimy towel and set to work. Really, though, he didn't know why he bothered. People - customers... gringos... whatever - they didn't come to the El-Maceia for the cleanliness or the decor. The only thing that saved the club from looking like a complete pest-hole was the fact that the lighting was usually kept low enough to shroud the general shabbiness of the place in a forgiving darkness. Likewise, they didn't come for the booze. Sure, they served all kinds of alcohol at the El-Maceia, but so did lot's of other places. And, if you didn't mind cheap Mexican beer, most other places were cheaper too. No, they came for one reason and one reason only: sex. Not only did the El-Maceia boast an infamous whorehouse - with, incidentally, a large number of white-skinned Americano girls from up north - but it also ran the raunchiest live sex show in all of Mexico. Or so said the rep. On the well-lit stage, the club's newest act - a dog & donkey show - entered its first performance of the evening. This act represented his latest shipment from the US. It hadn't been what he was expecting, but he had learned to make due with the tools at hand. Even if those tools happened to be an old business partner. Besides, he had always thought (privately) that the good doctor would make an admirable addition to his stable, with her thick brown hair and bright green eyes. Well... not so bright anymore. The current part of the "act" featured the woman - tall, beautiful and white - entertaining a dog from the club's kennel. The canine was a large german shepherd, nothing like the donkey featured in the last show of the evening, but still decent enough entertainment to start the evening. Dr Astor - or, Jackie as she was known - was presently on all fours, using one of her hands to feed the dog's large cock into her pussy. It had taken a little while to get her to do that - actively participate - but it had been worth the effort. It was somehow much more humiliating when the "performers" assisted in their own degradation. Still no co-operation with the donkey, but that would come in time. Or not; it didn't really matter all that much. Jackie's 'keeper' figured that she had a good six months in her before she would have to be 'retired' to a mining camp somewhere in the interior. Six months of packed houses and satisfied customers. The bartender - who also owned the club - smiled at the thought. Sure, there might be some difficulty in finding a new American "talent agent", but something would come up. There were always people willing to supply where there was a demand. On stage, the act reached its climax as the dog began to come inside the woman as she fucked back against him. As she had been trained to do, Jackie cried out in simulated ecstasy. The audience loved that. They went wild, erupting into a cacophony of applause and catcalls, and the stage was showered with money. Still on her knees, the woman panted and gasped for air as a thick wad of dog cum slid down the inside of her thigh. Another good night at the El-Maceia. The bartender smiled again. And there were still two shows to go...