Chapter 2 - Chapter Two

Copper-shelled lead slugs peppered the walls around Davie and Lara as they sprinted down the Getty Museum’s main service corridor.  Plate glass windows shattered above them, crashing down like sheets of tossed crockery at a Greek wedding.  Lara shielded her eyes, hopscotched razor-sharp glass shards, and ran for her life.  A couple of metres back Davie Davis stumbled after her.  The tomb raider’s cut-off black satin evening gown kept riding up over the backs of her thighs, gifting Davie with brief glimpses of her peachy ass.  Her buttocks were smooth and perfectly rounded, her blemish-free skin aglow with a light gold tan, her long muscular legs as well-honed as any athlete’s, yet beautifully slender at the same time, rippling with sleek muscle tone.  Like the body of a super-fit glamour model, Lara’s 5’ 8” frame looked strong, supple and rangy; but the twenty-eight year old tomb raider retained all of her femininity ­– something she prided herself on.

If Davie focused in, he noticed, squinting his eyes, he could just about make out the lacy black centre strip of Lara’s skimpy thong panties.  Pulled taut between the globes of her ass-cheeks, Lara’s knickers goosed her tight bottom with a high, tapering V of intricately patterned satin.  This was all the incentive the teenager needed: he sprinted after her.

Outside the museum Edgar Mast watched the two figures disappear down the corridor.  He stood at the centre of an entourage of gun-toting mercs.

“Told you it wasn’t over”, he muttered, “Sweet-cheeks”.

Mast was a man of indeterminate age.  His light grey eyebrows flared like bluffs of beach-grass, sprouting thickly above a sharp pair of steel-blue eyes.  His hair was fine and white, plentiful above the high dome of his patrician forehead; but deep crow’s feet bracketing his cheeks, and a speckling of liver spots along the receding semicircle of his hairline hinted at the septuagenarian’s true age.  His beetled brow bore the deep wrinkles of lifelong malevolence.

Mast still had an eye for the ladies however; and as much as he hated Lara Croft – the self righteous sticky-fingered trust fund whore – he had to give her credit for one thing: the tomb raider was looking every bit as lovely today as she had two months ago at their first meeting – a chance encounter in Venice which had ended rather abruptly with Ms. Croft gunning him down, then leaving him and his men for dead in the ruins of a fire-gutted warehouse.  The fact that she had also stolen his hard-won property, humiliated him by escaping with barely a scratch on her, and blown up his base of operations in Sicily, also featured quite prominently on the international art thief’s mind.

“Fucking whore”.  His imagination swirled with images of retribution – pleasurable for him, hell for Lara.

“But you shall learn, my dear”, he quickly calmed himself, stroking his short white beard between forefinger and thumb.  “Oh yes, that I guarantee.  You shall learn the price that must be paid for double-crossing Edgar Mast is high indeed...”

“I saw ‘em go down this way!”, one of the hired goons called out, pointing at the service entrance.

Mast sighed.  Levelling the barrel of his .45 calibre Desert Eagle handgun at the man’s head, with barely a flicker of conscience, he blew his brains out.  Dark grey cerebral pulp splashed across a nearby dessert trolley.  The man crumpled to the floor, twitching lifelessly.

“If anyone else”, Edgar Mast strafed a second pistol over the shocked faces of his remaining men, “has any more blindingly obvious remarks to make, I suggest you make them now”.

No one met his eyes – no one said a word.

“Good”, Nash smiled.  “Now, find that leggy English whore, and bring her back to me, alive if possible, maimed if necessary – dead if unavoidable”.

The men broke formation and sprinted after Davie and Lara.

Nash watched them go.




Gruff voices bounced down the corridor outside the room Lara and Davie had ducked into.

“We’d better not lose ‘em!”, one blurted breathlessly.

“I’m saving an extra bullet in case we do!”, his companion yelled back.

It was a small dark room, and Lara and Davie were crouched behind a desk.  Lara breathed a sigh of relief when the two men ran straight past the doorway, and continued on down the corridor.  Davie’s warm breath on the back of her neck however, and his clammy palm sliding up over the backs of her thighs, soon made her tense up again.

“Do you mind?!”, she hissed back at the teen icily.

“Do I mind ...what...?”, Davie asked innocently.  He slid his hands up higher, slipping them under the back of Lara’s dress, and started fondling and squeezing her firm well-rounded ass-cheeks as she crouched on her hands and knees in front of him.  The teenager couldn’t believe how good Lara’s ass felt: full and toned under his palms, with just the right amount of give when he pressed fingertips into it.  His digits sunk a couple of centimetres deep into her lush ass-flesh before finding the taut globes of her toned glutes.

“You know perfectly well what, you perverted little bugger!”.  Lara reached back and slapped his hands away.  She pulled her dress back down, covering up her groped ass.

“Spoil sport”, Davie grinned.

“Now you just keep your hands to yourself, please!”, Lara glanced back at him.

There was no other safe place to hide in the small office.  Lara had to crouch with her ass essentially thrust in Davie’s face as she peered around the side of the desk.  This was the only way she could keep a look out for any guards who might suddenly walk in on them – a set-up that suited Davie just fine.  It gave the teen a close-up view of Lara’s long muscular thighs, her toned calves, high-arched feet, and the supple contours of her firm, heart-shaped ass.  All this was offered up for the teen’s inspection as Lara now turned away from him and peered around the side of the desk again.

“OK, OK”, he held up his hands in mock surrender, “No more groping, I promise...”.

“I should hope not...”, Lara murmured, her mind already on other matters.

“So... how exactly do you know this Mast guy?”, he asked, just to keep Lara distracted.

Silently unbuckling his belt, he unzipped his slacks and worked one hand down inside his shorts. His cock was already fully hard.  It bounced up like a coiled spring when the teen pulled it out over the top of his shorts.  He grasped the thick shaft and started jerking it off, surreptitiously checking out the tomb raider’s gorgeous bare legs and her barely covered ass less than a foot away from his face.

Lara sighed.  “He killed a dear friend of mine...”, she replied.  Davie wasn’t really listening – he was too busy thinking how sweet it would be to fuck the tomb raider’s tightly rounded, full and firm gymnast’s ass instead.  “Yeah, that’s a damn shame...”, he mumbled distractedly.

Lara continued: “A few years ago, Edgar Mast masterminded an elaborate takeover bank robbery in London.  One of the hostages was Anne Richardson.  We were schoolmates from my days at Gordonstoun, and we managed to stay in touch over the years, something I rarely manage to do...”

Davie got up on his knees and inched closer to Lara’s ass, jerking his cock.  The backs of the tomb raider’s smooth, muscular thighs were more perfect than anything the teenager had ever seen, even in the pages of airbrushed lads’ mags.  Lara took amazing care of herself; he could see that much from the smoothness of her flesh, the total lack of cellulite in the backs of her full, round thighs.  But her skin was what really drew the teenager’s attention.  It was beautiful, smooth and supple, sheened over in the darkness with a healthy, glossy lustre that made Davie’s cock twitch and bulge in his hand.

The teen’s cock head was now less than an inch away from the back of Lara’s dress.  He was kneeling behind her with his legs open, his knees resting on either side of Lara’s calves since she had her legs pressed quite closely together.  This only served to accentuate the deep, peach-like crevice of Lara’s bubbly ass-cleavage however – and drew Davie on, until he was lightly grazing just the underside of his shaft back and forth over the expensive black fabric of Lara’s sleek designer cocktail dress.  It was rich satin, and felt wonderfully cool and slippery against the terse underside of his protruding cock head.  This was all he dared do for the time being.  Pumping his shaft he nuzzled the tip up underneath the hemline of Lara’s short black dress, perilously close to her thong-clad pussy, and listened to her story.

“Anne was a finance officer at the bank... and eight months pregnant with her first child”.

“Aww...”, Davie moaned.

“I know”, Lara replied, mistaking the teenager’s disappointment at not being able to penetrate her pussy at that very moment, sheath his cock balls-deep inside her hot, wet fuck tunnel and cum inside her, for an expression of sympathy at her friend’s tragic death.

“Well, when I heard about the robbery”, she continued, “I hurried to the scene.  And just as I got there, Mast and his men triggered their explosives...  There was a huge explosion.  Flames and hot rubble shot out from between the bank’s high stone pillars, throwing me back.  When I awoke ten minutes later, I discovered... there were no survivors... Anne was dead, a charred corpse.  But neither were there any signs of the robbers’ remains found in the rubble.  Mast had escaped, that son of a bitch.  From that moment on, I made it my mission to track him down”.

Davie was breathing hard now.  If Lara hadn’t been so absorbed in her story, and so intent on keeping watch for roaming mercenaries, she would have noticed the teenager hunched over her ass – beating off on the back of her satin cocktail dress.  But Davie was lucky.  As Lara droned on with her melodramatic sob story, he could do whatever he liked.  He was tempted to let her know just how boring it was, how inanely self-involved and self-pitying she seemed telling it – but the soft liquid-silk-like feel of her dress’s lower hemline on the head of his cock just felt too good.  He settled for secretly wrapping a handful of the slippery black fabric around the girth of his meat and thrusting slowly into it, pretending like he was fucking Lara’s pussy, which was now less an inch away from his cock anyway – and clearly visible to the teen’s eager gaze: he had carefully shimmied the back of her dress halfway up over Lara’s ass, revealing the smooth lush contours of her firm ass-cheeks.

The tomb raider’s taut buttocks were now half-exposed below a lacy black boarder of tight satin drapery.  Her high-cut tan-lines glowed luminously in the moonlight filtering in through the office windows behind Davie.  The teen now saw that Lara sunbathed in a tiny string-tie bikini.  It looked Brazilian cut; its back and sides rode low on her hips, showing off a good deal of ass cleavage – although, he noticed, its seat had covered up a little more of her well-rounded ass-cheeks than the English woman’s tapering thong panties concealed at present.  These were black and lacy, very high-cut, more like lingerie than everyday wear.  Their intricately patterned hemlines were wedged deep down between Lara’s supple olive-tan glutes.  Their crotch was barely wide enough to cover up two thirds of her neatly waxed pussy lips.  As he slowly fucked the back of Lara’s dress, Davie could see about a centimetre of sumptuous pink flesh glistening in the moonlight, peaking out on either side of her thong’s bunched up satin crotch.  He could feel her body heat on the underside of his cock head.  He was having a hard time holding himself back.

“Mast was planning to use the stolen money to finance an even more grand robbery...”, Lara continued, oblivious to Davie’s dick hovering just above her pussy, “but I put a slight kink in those plans”, her voice took on a more pleasant tone, as though she were telling the story to a group of friends at a dinner party.  “I’d received word from a notoriously unscrupulous stateside snitch that Mast and his men were holed up in an abandoned warehouse down on the East side, near the docks.  Zip, that’s my tech advisor incidentally, something of a pervert at times but reliable enough for the most part – well, he had developed a special cat suit for me, just for this operation.  I still have it lying around somewhere back at Croft Manor.  A lovely skin-tight black rubber number with ventilation ribbing over my belly and upper arms to keep me cool in combat situations.  It’s quite flattering really, perhaps a little tight around my bum and bust, although I’d hazard a guess that Zip designed it that way intentionally because he wanted to see me model it”, Lara smiled.

Davie imagined what she would look like in the outfit – and almost blew his load all over Lara’s tight bare ass.  But somehow the teen managed to restrain himself.  Were those footsteps he heard coming down the corridor?

Lara continued: “So I snuck into this warehouse down on the East side docks, and perching on one of the roof beams in this huge empty cavern of an abandoned building, who do you suppose I see gathered around a table directly below me, arguing about how they wanted to divide up the cool six million dollars they had just stolen?  That’s right, Edgar Mast and his murderous lackeys.  Well I waited, I bided my time until their argument escalated, until they seemed almost ready to lunge at one another’s throats, the greedy little animals.  And then I struck”.

Lara’s tone changed again here.  Davie even noticed a shift in the colour of her cheeks – from a healthy sun-bronzed light gold hue, they developed a soft internal glow which spread slowly over Lara’s features until her whole face was lit with a warm pink, incandescent luminosity.  The teen was still just barely hanging on, now grinding his cock head deep inside a bunched up fist of the back of Lara’s dress – which, over the past few minutes, he had also managed to slide up over the tomb raider’s lower back without her noticing.  Its plush satin interior must have been too soft and diaphanous to even set her nerve-ending tingling as the teen had inched it up over her gorgeous upper thighs and then peeled it away from the changeable curvatures of her indented, womanly hips just a few seconds ago.  It certainly felt that way on the head of his cock – as fine and smooth as laced gossamer silk, the intricacies of its baroque-patterned stitching serving only to increase the teen’s pleasure as they chafed and stimulated the torqued nerve-endings of his ripe-to-cum dick deliciously.

“There were half a dozen of them, all big men and no strangers to violence, and only one of me”.  Lara’s throat worked as she swallowed with a dry mouth.  “But I had the element of surprise – and one other all important advantage.  I noticed Mast signal his men to take me alive as soon as he saw my figure-hugging cat suit.  I let them surround me, putting my hands up in mock-surrender, as though I had realised my mistake right away.  One huge brute sauntered up.  I pretended to be intimidated, avoiding his eyes as he circled around me like an animal.  Then he started patting me down.  His hands were huge and sweaty.  They squeaked loudly on the black rubber of my cat suit as he tested my thighs and squeezed and patted my bottom.  I remember the other men closing in, chuckling.  I let them come.. nice and close boys.  Then just as the brute was going to work on my breasts – the perfect distraction incidentally, most men seem hypnotised by them –  I ducked under his hands, spun around and slammed the heel of my palm up into his groin”.  Lara laughed softly, her blush deepening.

“Well, he went down like a sack of potatoes, and before the others recovered their wits I already had my hidden combat knife unsheathed from the heel of my boot and was jamming it into one of their feet.  A few more well-placed kicks and judo chops incapacitated two more of their number, and then I had only Mast and his right hand man to deal with”.  Davie noticed Lara’s thighs begin to tremble.  Looking down he saw that her small, bare toes were curling inward a little.  Her peachy ass had tightened up too, like she was recalling the feel of the men’s hands all over her body as she told her story.  He couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Unfortunately, these two proved a bit more of a handful.  Mast’s bodyguard was a skilled martial artist, I’ll give him that.  While Mast backed away and appeared to be fumbling around in his pockets for something, his henchman and I traded blows.  He was good – fast, smart, strong, much bigger than I was – but for every kick or punch he landed, I paid him back five times over.  After a couple of minutes of this, the look on his face was priceless.  He could barely stand, his lip was bleeding, his right eye was swollen shut from a well-placed elbow I had landed there while he was down on his knees.  He clearly had never expected to be beaten down by a woman in a fair fight.  And that’s what would have happened – if Mast hadn’t interfered, that cheap little bastard.  I saw him out of the corner of my eye, fiddling with something in his cupped palms.  But it wasn’t until the darts had embedded themselves in my thigh, and I saw the thin strands of copper wire leading back to the device in his hand, that I realised what it was – and by then it was too late.  My whole body seized up stiff as a board and shook violently when that son of a bitch pumped his high voltage electrical current into me.  I fell to my knees, my vision blurring with tears of pain, glaring up at him furiously.  It just didn’t seem fair!  But Mast didn’t stop until I passed out”.

Davie’s eyes had been locked on Lara’s pussy as she spoke.  He couldn’t believe how wet she was getting.  Her lush pink lips were practically gleaming in the moonlight now.  He watched as her buxom cleavage bulged and fell away from the front of her dress rhythmically, in time with her excited breathing pattern.  The teenager never would have guessed just how much of a sexed-crazed slut Lara Croft, the world famous adventureress and multimillionaire aristocrat, really was.

“The next thing I remember was waking up with this awful dull ache in both my arms”, Lara continued huskily.  “Opening my eyes I found myself standing – or rather dangling on my tiptoes – in the middle of a huge dark room.  The only light came from a hot bank of halogen bulbs directly above my head.  But I could tell from the way the jangling noise of my chains echoed throughout the surrounding darkness that the room was as big as a cathedral.  With the lights burning down on me I was a sweat drenched mess, my hair untied and plastered wetly across my forehead and face.  Judging from the horrible pins and needles sensations in my arms, which were stretched out above my head and tied together with a thick length of rusty iron chain, I had been there a while.  My first thought was to escape – I tried yanking the chain down; it was hot from the lights, almost burning my wrists – but then I stopped abruptly when a chorus of deep male laughter echoed out from the darkness surrounding me.  They were all there, all six of the bastards, standing around me, just outside the ring of light”.

“Mast was the first one to step forward.  He slowly paced the floor, making entirely predictable boasts and threats.  Then he stepped behind me.  I felt his breath hot and moist on my neck – his palms all over my thighs and buttocks as he squeezed and mauled them.  He landed several hard smacks on my bottom, taking me off guard, making me gasp out loud against my will.  The loud popping sounds of flesh on PVC echoed around the room endlessly.  After several long minutes of this, he moved in front of me again, found my catsuit’s concealed zipper just under my neck, and started slowly dragging it down between my breasts – drawing the process out in a pathetic attempt to coax a reaction out of me I’m sure.  Well I was damned if I was going to give him the satisfaction.  I just locked eyes with the bastard and stared straight back at him, even as he dragged the zipper down to my navel.  The feeling of that scum’s wrinkled palms sliding inside my catsuit, stroking and pressing my abdomen was enough to make me queazy.  He slid them upwards, over my ribcage.  Parting the lapels of my catsuit, he peeled it back from my breasts, then yanked it down abruptly around my shoulders.  I spat in his face.  The son of a bitch just laughed, then leaned in and kissed me hard on the lips, squeezing both of my naked breasts hard with his thumbs sinking into my nipples”.

Davie was sure of it now – those were footsteps he could hear coming down the hallway.  Lara seemed too absorbed in her story to notice however.  And the teenager wasn’t about to stop her now.

“I was tempted – sorely tempted, believe me – to bite Mast’s tongue off when he shoved it into my mouth.  But given my position at the time, and his reputation for cruelty, I realised that would be a bad move – so I had to settle for slamming my knee up between the bastard’s legs instead.  That brought a smile to my face – the sound of him whimpering pathetically at my feet, crumpled up and groaning on the floor.  But... it proved to be something of a mistake.  The other five men swiftly moved in and restrained me.  The brute who had taken so much pleasure groping me earlier now came up behind me and wrapped his legs around mine.  He stood on my feet.  I remember I had bruises for weeks afterwards.  And the feel of that bastard’s *ahem*... erection straining up between my buttocks as he held me still in a crushing bear hug – unforgivable...”

“Yeah right”, Davie said – or wanted to say, but didn’t, keeping his thoughts to himself instead as Lara continued.  She was rubbing her bare feet together now, her toes curling inwards slightly as she worked the top of one foot slowly back and forth over the high arch of the other.  Her tan thighs and bare ass-cheeks were twitching and tensing up every so often, as though Lara were inviting the teen to touch her, to test the feminine suppleness of her flesh.  And her smooth, English-accented voice, with its clipped vowels, its sophisticated elocution, the soft husky undertones of her breath: just listening to the sound of Lara’s voice was making Davie’s cock harder than it had ever been in his life.  He was so close now.  Every cell in the teenager’s body was urging him to yank the tomb raider’s knickers down, bury his cock balls-deep inside her tight, hot, well-lubricated, aristocratic pussy and fuck her hard, doggy-style down into the floor, then fill her out with his thickly spewing cum.

“Well, there was nothing I could do about it at the time”, she continued.  “The brute behind me yanked open the front of my catsuit, ripping the back and pulling it down to my waist.  Then he stood on my feet and held me immobile while Mast recovered.  That bastard.  He hit me when there was nothing I could do about it.  Repeatedly, in my solar plexus, each blow knocking the air from my lungs and winding me.  I twisted and cried out in a vain attempt avoid the blows.  But with my arms stretched up above my head I could do nothing.  He just kept going and going, over and over, targeting the same spot relentlessly.  He made it so I could hardly breathe for ten minutes at least.  I almost passed out.  Then he started on my breasts, slapping them from side to side, harshly smacking my nipples with his open palms, sliding his hands underneath them and spanking their undersides – just to watch them jiggle, he said.  The men all laughed at me, saying I must have been enjoying the attention because my nipples were both so hard.  But what do they expect, if the bastard was flicking and pinching them so much, teasing them out between his forefingers and thumbs and rolling them back and forth incessantly.  Ungh!  Just thinking about it now gets me so worked up!!”

Davie had to agree.  Peering around the side of her torso the teen could see the twin bumps of Lara’s taut breast buds, clearly visible beneath the shimmering black satin of her evening gown.  His side-on view of Lara’s breasts was incredible.  They underhung her chest, plump and heavy like a couple of well-filled-out water balloons – but their contours remained true to form, betraying not a hint of sag or overhang.  Beautifully rounded, full and firm, they bulged like rain droplets ready to fall from the underside of a ripe exotic fruit.

“Of course, they had their way with me in the end”, Lara continued, her voice heating up with rage.  “When I was too weak to fight back anymore they cut me down, then tore my cat suit down around my hips and stripped it away from my legs.  They stood around me in a circle.  Taking turns, one of them held a gun on my head while the other five shoved their cocks in my face.  I had no choice, I let them fuck my mouth.  It was horrible, so many cocks slapping back and forth all over my face, messily smearing me with their strong smelling precum, all so hot and hard and veiny on my cheeks, my forehead, along the line of my jaw, under my nose.  They made me inhale their scents.  They took turns with my mouth too.  Grabbing handfuls of my hair they forced me to submit – shoving their cocks in-between my lips and pumping them into the side of face, bulging out my cheeks, rubbing their foul-tasting heads all over my tongue.  Sometimes two of them at a time would thrust their big, thick cocks into my mouth and made me service them – while the others grabbed my wrists and wrapped my hands around their cocks – making me pump their shafts and massage their hairy, sweaty fleshy balls.  If I refused they slapped me, spat in my face, pulled my hair and kicked me until I acquiesced to their demands”.

“Only one of them came prematurely.  I had taken it upon myself to thin their number a bit.  Anticipating my impending gang-rape I used my best oral techniques to avoid having to take all six of them on at the same time.  The man who did cum, that son of a bitch, he unloaded straight down my throat.  He made me swallow his entire load, holding my face firmly to his crotch as I struggled to gulp him down.  I can still feel his testicles rolling and hotly buckling with ejaculation on my chin.  I can still smell the overpowering scent of his thickly gushing cum as it backed up in my throat and spurted out through my nostrils.  He pulled his rubbery cock out from between my lips and slapped it all over my face, laughing at me – the bastards, they all laughed at me.  And then they really started having fun.  They shoved me down on the ground.  Taking hold of my hips one of them – I think he was a black man – pulled me up from my prone position, forced his knees inside my thighs and levered them apart.  By then I was barely able to put much of a fight.  I let him penetrate me.  He was big, his cock filled me out uncomfortably.  And he was strong, his hips as he raped my sex slapping loudly against my bottom left bruises which took a week to heal”

“The others surrounded me again.  They knew they had me at their mercy, and those filthy bastards, they took advantage.  The man behind me, he grabbed my hair and pulled me up from the floor, bending my lower back painfully.  I remember I hissed at him, turned, tried to spit in his face, but one of his friends just shoved his cock in my mouth and ordered me to suck it.  I had little choice – he had a knife to my throat.  Another man stepped in front of me and started slapping my breasts around, making them sting, before sandwiching his cock between them and fucking them as I choked on his friend’s cock.  They crushed me between them – I’d never felt so helpless in my life – hurling insults at me, spitting in my face, slapping my cheeks.  I remember the man fucking my mouth had a special trick.  He would push the bulbous head of his cock into the side of my face, bulging it out, then he’d slap it, sometimes hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, with his open palm.  A few times he even pulled it out from my between lips and demanded that I thank him for hitting me – I was so exhausted by then that... I admit, I obeyed him, tearfully begging for him to fuck my throat, spare me his hand – which he did, gloating, pushing his cock back down into my throat, and making me gag on it – intentionally, I could tell, he seemed to derive some perverse pleasure from witnessing my pain – being the cause of it”.

“Soon they had me sandwiched between them for real.  The big black man behind me pulled out from my pussy and he started forcing his way, shunting his thick black cock up into my ass.  I couldn’t stop him.  I tried, clenching myself tight, making myself too small for him to enter, but it was no good.  He seemed to enjoy the challenge.  Spreading my buttocks apart with his thumbs he used my own vaginal juices as a lubricant.  Forcing his way up there he grunted unintelligible insults in my ear.  I tried elbowing back, hoping to catch him in his eye and stop him from hurting me anymore – but my arms were like jelly, I had no more strength left in me.  And when he finally did succeed in shoving himself all the way up there – he must have been ten inches deep – Mast stepped forward.  That filthy bastard, he had the black man hook my legs up behind my head so I was spread wide open, helpless to stop anyone from doing as they pleased with my body.  They tied my ankles like that, crossed behind my neck, with a length of cord, then Mast started rubbing his cock up and down over my already-sore pussy.  Grinning in my face, he took my jaw in one hand and forced my mouth open between his forefinger and thumb.  Then he kissed me, he kissed me like I was his own personal property, to do with as he pleased, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth at the same time as he thrust his cock up into my spread-wide pussy.  Being double-fucked like that, kissed forcibly by Mast, having my breasts slapped around and squeezed painfully by that son of a bitch, while the black man behind me spanked my buttocks and fucked me up my ass with no thought for the pain and discomfort he was causing me with his big, thick black cock – it was almost too much for me to take”.

“I confess, I can’t remember much more after this.  It was all a blur of cocks and spit and insults and painful open-handed slaps on my face, my bottom, by breasts, my pussy spread wide as Mast, and I think at one point, two men at the same time forced their cocks into it, and fucked me without mercy.  I just remember the end.  I must have been acting on pure instinct by then, my limbs moving from reflex action in a last ditch attempt to save myself from this horrible act of rape, male-dominance, depraved violence and brutality.  But I saw my chance – and I took it.  The bank of halogen lamps overhead.  I saw a power cord leading away from it, over to the far side of the room.  I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it before – the petrol-fuelled generator that was powering the lights.  Only three of the men were still raping me by this point.  They were taking turns with my ass, forcing me to suck them off, literally to clean my ass off their cocks with my tongue, in a kind of rota system – two at a time in my face, while the third stood behind me and fucked my ass doggystyle.  I just remember seeing a gun within reaching distance, a handgun I think it was, grabbing it, aiming it at the petrol cans beside the generator and squeezing the trigger”.

“The whole interior of the warehouse lit up in a brief, bright flare of exploding gasoline.  The generator disintegrated, the lighting rig above us died amid a shower of hot blue sparks, and we were plunged into blackness, the only light source in the room now licking across the floor from the flames blazing on the far side of the warehouse.  The men panicked, rushing over to the table to gather up the huge piles of cash they had been counting out when I had first arrived.  I drew on reserves of strength I hardly knew I had.  I stumbled blindly towards a wall of blown out windows nearby, and dived through them.  I would have been killed by the fall if I hadn’t chosen the side of the building that opened out onto the marina area of the docks.  The cold water must have sobered me up, because I remember swimming front crawl away from the burning building and then looking back once I had reached a safe distance.  Treading water at the centre of the bay, I saw a lone figure silhouetted in the jagged picture frame of shattered glass that had been the warehouse’s main loading door, back-dropped by leaping flames.  Mast.  I knew it was him.  He jumped down, disappearing into the darkness.  He left his men to die like that, and saved himself”.

Finally, Lara fell silent.  And not a moment too soon.  She had been so caught up in her monologue that she had failed to hear the footsteps coming down the corridor.  Now she noticed them however, and quickly ducked back behind the desk, turning to face Davie as two heavily armed guards walked into the room.

“Mmmpph!”, Lara stifled a gasp of outrage, her eyes widening at the sight of Davie’s fully hard cock right in front of her face.  She tried to push the teenager away but he refused to budge, instead grabbing a handful of Lara’s glossy chestnut hair and forcing her to look at his cock.  That was what worried her.  Lara couldn’t believe it.  The shaft of Davie’s cock must have been a solid foot in length, and it was unusually thick.  The mushroom-shaped head looked as big as her own fist.  It was drooling precum, literally dripping with the stuff as Davie pumped it with his right hand, holding her head in place with his left.  He pulled her closer.  Shoving his hips forward he started rubbing his cock all over Lara’s face.  Hot, oily precum glazed the tomb raider’s high cheek-bones.  It dribbled messily down over her lips as Davie painted the area under her nose, forcing her to inhale his strong, musky scent against her will.  It was like having an over-affectionate puppy lapping warmly at her face, Lara fumed, wrinkling her nose.  She glared up at Davie, but the teen’s eyes looked glazed over.  He hardly even seemed able to see her anymore – not as anything more than a gorgeous sex-object that he could use to slake his lust with in any case.  He nudged and bumped his cock head back and forth over her plump, wetly glistening, ruby-glossed lips.  Smearing his hot teen pre-cum all around Lara’s mouth, Davie silently mimed the following message to her:

“Open up bitch.  And suck it... or I yell out to the guards right now, and we both get caught”.

Lara glared up at him, keeping her lips tightly pursed for a moment.  But then it hit her.  The guards weren’t after Davie at all; they wanted her.  If she didn’t do as the teen demanded he would turn her over to them in a heartbeat – and she would suffer, not him.  Hell, knowing Edgar Mast’s twisted sense of humour, Davie would probably receive some kind of a reward for aiding in her capture.  She locked eyes with him, and saw, behind all the mindless teen lust and his desperation to get himself off in her mouth, that he knew this too – and that he had every intention of using this knowledge to his advantage.

Lara sighed silently.  Then reluctantly, inch-by-slow-inch, she opened her mouth.  Davie grinned down at her in triumph.  He worked his fingers deep into her glossy chestnut-brown hair as she wrapped her plump red lips around the head of his cock.  The teen stifled a groan.  He couldn’t believe how good Lara Croft’s mouth felt, how soft and wet and hot her tongue felt swirling around the bulbous tip of his dick, as she sucked his cock.  He placed both palms on top of her head and, holding her firmly in place, started pumping his hips, feeding the tomb raider progressively more and more of his thick, foot long meat.

As tears welled up in Lara’s big, beautiful hazel-almond eyes, and the teen’s cock head backed up in the tight wet interior of her gulping throat – and he heard the two guards light up cigarettes on the other side of the desk, and start a conversation – Davie Davis realised something.

This was going to be a night to remember.

 

***

To be continued...