The Fleeing Fucktoy

A second hand clamped down on my head, and I felt my breathing halt as she pushed herself into me, forcing my nostrils shut.

Frantically, I worked over the warm sensitive spot with my warmer tongue, slathering it in what saliva I had left. With my lungs starting to ache, I pursed my lips around her clit and sucked.

That did it. Gripping fistfuls of my hair, she wailed out her pleasure and soaked my face, then let go of me.

I gasped for breath, sputtering under the juice.

"Oh, yeah..." she sighed. "That was good."

I smiled weakly, despite myself.

"Now," she said, "go help her."

Looking over to Blue-hair, I saw her kneeling in front of her similarly positioned captive, running her hands up and down his chest. She was drooling, and I her eyes were glued to his torso. Simon, meanwhile, tried to keep a straight face, but blushed when he saw that I was looking at him.

"Hey, pretty boy," said Blue-hair, looking at me, "Come over here."

On all fours, I crawled up to her as she pushed Simon roughly onto his back.

"Ouch!" he grunted.

Licking her lips, the woman pulled off her shorts, then her panties, before straddling his midsection. Bringing down her hand, she stroked herself a few times, biting her lip and arching her back, but always keeping her eyes trained on him.

"Come on up here and face me," she ordered.

"Me?" I sputtered. "You mean... over him?"

"Yeah. Get your ass up here."

With a genuine blush, I crawled up to Simon and knelt across his chest, right in front of the woman.

"Oh, man," she breathed, "you look nice..."

With hands as hot as stovetops, she grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and pulled me into a kiss, moaning into my mouth as her tongue pillaged me. Half-consciously, I kissed her back.

Her hands ran up and down my body, eventually finding my smoothly rounded ass cheeks. She gave me a firm spank.

"Umph!" I sputtered.

She separated from the kiss, grinning lecherously, then pushed me away.

"Alright," she huffed, "time for the main event."

Saying this, she reached for her discarded shorts and fished something out of her pocket that at first looked like a candy. As she unwrapped it, however, I saw it to be a condom.

With practiced smoothness, she peeled the foil away from the condom, then shifted herself back on Simon's body, giving herself a better position to pull his pants down. The minute she did, she and I were both treated to the smooth, shapely form of Simon's erect masculinity.

"Why you little bitch," simpered the woman, "you're not wearing underpants. You wanted this, didn't you?"

Simon stared back at her with a face of stone, expertly concealing the arousal that I knew was there.

With one fluid motion, the woman got the condom on Simon, then gave his penis a few squeezes before stroking it to full rigidity. Then, with one last victorious smile, she lifted herself up over his waiting organ, then down onto it.

A grunt escaped Simon's lips, and his ferrous complexion twitched subtly, but that was all. At the same time, the woman threw her head back and sang out her pleasure. Keeping her back straight, she bucked up and down on Simon, squeezing her eyes shut as her mouth alternated between sharp gasps and deep, drawn-out moans. Her blue ponytail bobbed a fraction of second behind her bucking, but the rest of her body was perfectly coordinated. Like a fighter in the ring, every fiber of her being now concentrated on her opponent.

Simon was clearly weakening. While he still struggled to maintain his straight face, he was now panting through gritted teeth, and his eyes were losing their focus.

"Hang in there, buddy," I thought.

For what had to have been at least twenty seconds, Simon and the woman matched their endurance, each one slowly losing their composure until the woman finally began to crumble.

"Oh yeah..." she panted. "Fuck, yeah... oh yeah, bitch! UNGH!"

Snarling, she hunched her back and trembled as an orgasm rattled her body. The next minute, her arms failed her for a moment, and she fell forward onto Simon, who looked to be in scarcely better shape.

"Fuck, that was good," she breathed, getting up. "Aw, yeah... come on, Candice. Let's go home."

"You don't want to do that again?" asked the other woman.

"I'm still a little horny," replied the first. "But I'm done with these two bitches. I think I'll stop by my boyfriend for a fuck."

"Can I come, too?"

"Fuck, yeah."

"Sweet, let's go."

With that, they turned and left us on the silent, dark sidewalk. A few seconds later, a small internal combustion engine growled to life, and a propeller beat the water as the girls sailed away.

Simon groaned and sat up.

"Are you alright, Simon?" I asked. "She did quite a number on you."

"Unhh... yeah..."

Stepping forward, I took his hand and helped him up.

"Are you in good shape, Tim?"

"Oh, yes, I'm fine."

"Good. Hang in there."

"Do you think we gave them a good time?"

"Doesn't matter. Now give me a boost. A think I can find us a way into the shop from up top."

"You mean you don't already know a way in?"

"Of course not. Without blueprints, there's no way to plan it."

"O-okay."

"Here, kneel down and I'll stand on your shoulders."

I got down on one knee and braced my arms against the ground.

"Yeah," said Simon, "just like that."

Carefully, he put the soft sole of his right foot on my left shoulder, then shifted his weight up to it. The next moment, he had his other leg up. I heard him straining.

"A little higher..." he wheezed.

Gently, I rose a few inches, my arms quaking. Then I felt his skin slowly lift from me.

"I'm up," he reported. "Now I'm looking for a way in."

I sat back and waited for a moment, then noticed Simon's pants on the ground in front of me.

"Hey, Simon?" I called. "Do you want your pants back?"

There was a long awkward pause, then he replied, "Yes."

Wordlessly, I passed his pants up to him, and he put them on with embarrassed promptness. A few moments later, I heard a metallic clanking sound.

"That's it!" he declared. "I've got it! I'm going in!"

"But Simon, how am I going to get in?"

"Head out front. I'll open the door for you."

Dutifully, I padded out to the front of the building, choosing to leave my shirt behind. After a moment, however, I stopped, then headed back and kicked the garment into the water; I saw no reason for it to serve as evidence.

At the front door, all I could see was Simon's stocky silhouette loping towards me inside the dark shop, followed by a clicking noise. Then the door slid aside. I ducked in, pausing a moment to shut it behind me.

"Excellent!" I celebrated. "We're in."

"Yeah," he dismissed, jogging with me into the interior of the cluttered building. "Now help me find some pass codes. Any of them should do. I don't think they have any non-submersible watercraft here, and we only need it for-"

There was a banging at the door, followed by, "Open up! It's the police!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake..."

"What do we do?" I gasped.

The glass in the front of the shop shattered. Reflexively, I ran into the back of the shop, diving behind a reception desk.

For a few seconds, I crouched there, listening.

"You!" shouted a loud female voice. "What are you doing?"

A single pair of hard boots stomped authoritatively into the shop, then stopped. I could hear Simon breathing quickly.

I had to help him. As a combination of scuffling and grunts came from the other side of the desk, I skulked around it as quickly as I dared, then stood up behind the policewoman. She was at least a head taller than Simon, and she was wrestling him and winning.

With a little shout, I sprang onto her back and trapped her in a headlock, wrapping my legs around her lower torso. For just one moment, she staggered, then made the mistake of removing one hand from Simon.

Simon delivered a lightning-fast punch to her stomach, then grabbed her bust and shoved her back.

"Ow!" I yipped, as I cushioned her landing.

Before either of us could react, Simon leapt on top of us and pinned the policewoman's limbs down.

"Tim, you okay?" he asked. "Get out of there!"

As the policewoman thrashed and fought under Simon's tough grip, I pushed back against the smooth tile floor, grunting and kicking before finally pulling myself out from under her.

"Now get a rope!" said Simon. "Or something! I don't care, just hurry!"

I scrambled into the darkness of the back of the shop, finding a garage equipped with a full array of tools. Frantically, I scanned across the racks on the walls, the toolboxes on the floor and the chest in the corner, before I finally found an industrial rope.

"I have it!" I declared, running back, "I've got it, Simon, right here!"

"Great!" said Simon. "Put it down and grab her arms."

Quickly, I did so, then straddled the policewoman and seized her wrists, holding them up as Simon brought up the rope.

"Wait," he hesitated. "Bring these to her feet. I've got a better idea."

At this, the woman's legs started kicking. Effortlessly, Simon held them down, then set to work, tying the woman's right wrist to her right ankle and her left wrist to her left ankle.

"Alright, get off," he authorized.

I stood up and stepped back, standing next to Simon as we admired our handiwork. At our feet, the immobilized policewoman had stopped struggling. Rolling on her back like a rocking horse, with her legs spread and scrunched up to meet her wrists, she stared at us with murder in her eyes.

"You punks are going to regret this," she snarled. "When they catch you, you're going to be put away for a long time. How's that sound? Getting thrown in with all the horny faggots?"

Simon and I looked to each other.

"Sounds good to me," he shrugged. "Tim, keep looking for that thing we were looking for."

I nodded.

"As for you, officer..."

I searched for a few seconds, then stopped. Unable to resist, I turned and watched Simon.

Over in the main room, Simon took a knife from somewhere and cut off the excess length of rope from one of the woman's bonds, then grabbed a pole that had thick bolts stuck the side of each end. After a trip to the garage, he had the bolts out.

As the woman watched, her face showing perverse fascination that mirrored my own, Simon slipped the industrial rope through the bolt holes in the pole, then tied one of the ends around her ankle.

"Don't you dare!" she spat.

"Too late, I already dared. Now hold still or I'll gag you."

With that, he grabbed her other ankle and wrestled it into the loop on the other side of the makeshift spreader bar. With that, he grabbed her by the back of her jacket and flipped her over onto her shins, her chin pressed against the floor and her ass up.

With a barely perceptible smirk, he grabbed her pants. Looping his thumbs around the waistline, he tugged them down an inch, exposing just a sliver of a lovely posterior. Then, with a violent tug, he pulled them free, exposing the gentle lobes of her ass and her pussy, spread helplessly for our viewing pleasure.

"You little bitch!" she screeched. "I'm gonna- UMPH!"

Before she could finish, Simon jammed a spare length of rope into her mouth, then tied it there. With a dark little chuckle, he came back to her ceremoniously presented ass and ran his hand up and down it for a few seconds. Then, with a whip of his arm, he spanked her.

The woman let out an impotent little squeal, and her whole body bucked under his strike, then settled back into position. The next moment, he repeated the strike, causing her ass to jiggle as she lurched again.

"One last thing," he announced, getting up.

A few seconds later, he returned with a permanent ink marker. Pulling off the cap with a pneumatic pop, he revealed the marker's moist, ready tip, then pressed it to the skin of her ass and started writing

She let out a shivering moan.

"My, my, listen to you," Simon taunted. "You were so scary with your clothes still on. But with your ass in the air like this, you're just a helpless little bitch girl, aren't you?"

"HHHMPH!" she protested.

"I agree; you do deserve another spanking. Unfortunately, I don't have the time for that, so I'm going to have to trust that little duty to whoever finds you first."

With a grandiose flourish, he pulled away the marker and sheathed it. For a moment, he enjoyed the view, then finished off with a few parting slaps straight to her pussy.

"Tim," he addressed, his voice rising slightly. "Have you found the codes yet?"

I stared back at him blankly.

"Tim," he accused, "how long have you been sitting there?"

"Um... the whole time?"

He slapped his forehead.

"Sorry," I hastily apologized, "I'll get back to looking. I already tried the cash register, but I bet it's in the warehouse."

"Have you checked the computer?"

"No. I figured they'd keep a physical copy somewhere."

"I'll check the computer. Go look in that warehouse and yell if you find anything."

Nodding, I turned to the back of the store and pulled open the door, finding a cornucopia of nautical machine parts all packed into a room the size of an average pantry.

"Whoah..." I breathed.

"Got 'em!" yelled Simon.

"What? Already?"

"Yeah," said Simon, bounding excitedly back. "E522. That's the code to a twin-prop sub with seats for four. It'll do just fine."

"Great!" I said, "Where is it?"

Simon stopped.

"That's a good question..."

Looking back into the parts pantry, I saw a ladder leading down.

"It's not down here, is it?" I conjectured.

"Worth a look, at the least," Simon shrugged.

Saying this, he stepped up to the ladder, then braced his hands and feet against the sides and slid down.

"It's here!" he called back, his voice echoing a little. "They're all down here! Come on, ours is just a little bit this way!"

Infected by his excitement, I hurried down the ladder, landing in a dark, cramped metal hallway lit only by feeble diodes. With those, and its many dials and screens on the walls, this corridor looked like the insides of a spaceship from an old science fiction movie. The sudden, deep silence- and the lack of windows- indicated that we were now underwater. Simon was in front of me, crouching so that his head wouldn't hit the ceiling. He grinned from ear to ear.

Without a word, he turned around and skipped alacritously down the hall, his bare feet reverberating softly on the metal grating that covered the bottom of the watertight chamber. A few seconds later, he slid to a stop at a narrow doorway that rotated open to reveal another ladder, which he quickly jumped down, forgoing the rungs altogether. Without looking, I followed him.

When I landed, I was next to him, inside an ovoid bubble that was eight feet tall and twice as long. Its thick, transparent surface gave us an unmitigated view of the ocean outside, stretching beneath us into darkness. Above us, the looming hull of the submersible dealership shaded us, blotting out most of our view above. To our sides, we could see the twin fuselages of our submersible, each of which ended in a hefty caged propeller. Beyond them, other submersibles hung from the catwalk beneath the shop.

"Let's get ready to rumble!" I declared, dropping into the pilot's seat.

"Not yet," said Simon, climbing down into the foot well. "If we don't disable the tracking beacon, they'll know where we're going."

"Oh..."

"But find the ignition for me, would you?" he added, opening a compartment with a screwdriver. "We can't take off yet, but at least we can get the engines revved up."

"Aye aye, cap'n," I accepted.

"You're cheerful all of a sudden," Simon noted.

"Why not?" I returned. "We're getting away. I didn't dare believe it before, but we're actually getting away."

"Now, remember, we're not out of the woods yet."

"I know, I know, but... this is at least a lot farther than I thought we'd get."

"Fair enough."

"So thank you."

Simon stopped working and gave me a serious look.

"Thank me?" he echoed. "For what?"

"Most of this, I'd say. I helped you take down Mistress Clara and that policewoman, but you planned out this whole escape, and you did most of it."

For just one moment, Simon's face fell slack, processing this.

"Well... thanks, Tim," he said, finally. "I'm... I don't really know what to say. Except that I couldn't have done it without you."

"Really?"

"Really. Otherwise, I would have tried it a long time ago. But now, I'm glad that I didn't."

"Oh, Simon..."

Simon chuckled, blushing visibly.

"Look, let's just get to safety," said Simon. "We're not getting any younger, and if Clara got herself free, she'll be after us like hounds. But this'll lose her."

"Okay. How long do you think it'll take to disable the tracking de-"

"Got it!"

I looked down at him, half-expecting a joke, only to see him holding a small electronic device with a victorious expression on his face.

"It's disabled," he added. "So come on. Let's fire this bad boy up."

Grasping the control sticks, I squeezed the trigger on the left, then turned and watched as the left propeller rumbled to life. With a grin, I revved the left engine, listening as it roared vivaciously, pushing back exhaust bubbles in its violent backdraft. Keeping the left trigger down, I turned to the right and slowly brought the right engine up to speed, rattling the cockpit with its vibrations.

With both propellers churning, I applied the cruise control, reached down and disengaged the latches with a muffled, industrial rattling noise. As soon as our sub was free, the vibrations ceased, and I felt a sudden levity as we began to sink.

Pushing the sticks forward, I sent us down into the maritime abyss, watching with awe as the grim pillars of the skyscrapers' suboceanic floors seemed to rise around us. Thrilled, I leveled us out and pulled us into a tight bank, then into a spiral.

"Easy, there," said Simon.

"Aw, can't a guy have a little fun?" I pouted.

"Let's finish our escape. Then I'll show you a little fun."

I looked over to him, seeing him giving me the bedroom eyes.

"Are you... are you serious?"

"Dead serious. Get us to the resistance, and we'll only need one bed tonight."

"Wonderful!" I celebrated. "And... uh... where is the resistance, exactly? You said they were supposed to be down here, so..."

"Yeah, you're going the right way. Rumor has it they're at the ocean floor."

"Rumor? We're here because of a rumor?"

"Yes."

"But... but... what if it's false?"

"That would be a setback, but we'd still be in good shape; we've got an off-the-grid submersible and no one's onto us yet."

I looked ahead again, my confidence drained. I tried to focus on the soothing, gently rumble of the engines, but the precariousness of our gambit suddenly refused to be ignored.

"I see something," said Simon.

"What?"

"See that up ahead?"

I squinted into the darkness ahead.

"Whoah..." I gasped. "It's a whale!"

"That's no whale. That's a submarine. The rumors said that the resistance has a submarine that they use as a mobile command center."

"How do you know all this? Who told you?"

"Someone at an auction once. It was a long time ago, and I truly don't remember if she was a slave or not. But she seemed pretty sure of herself. Time to see if she was right, eh?"

"Yeah... 'if'..."

For a few more seconds, I pursued the ominously smooth, black cylinder that drifted silently through the waters beneath us, then we heard a voice.

"Unidentified watercraft, state your name and business."

"What's that?" I gasped.

"It's the radio," said Simon. "They're trying to figure out who we are."

"What are we going to tell them?"

"The truth."

Simon cleared his throat.

"Submarine," he said, speaking loudly and clearly. "This is the unidentified watercraft. We're here seeking refuge."