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SPY2 video cameras were installed each

 

Betty the Spy, Part 2: Belly Dancer ( MC MF MD reluc 1st F-solo } codes
Other Parts may include additional codes.

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==================

Synopsis: Previously, Betty's career as a spy for the mysterious Agency
has came under the guiding hand of Mr. Solo, who moved that hand all over
her ripe young body. While still technically a virgin, Betty's sexuality
was rapidly awakened and continues to grow with unusual speed. Now, Betty
is about to embark on her first real mission, finally escaping the
dominating Mr. Solo. Will she be able to get into the Sultan's harem to
accomplish her mission?

Background: This story is a spin-off of the "Becoming a Winner" series.
Betty, a brilliant college co-ed with a huge submissive streak was being
transformed by Hal, a graduate psychology student, from being a fat girl with poor complexion & rotten self-image into the woman she (& he) always
desired. Betty had a fertile imagination when she pleasures herself. This
is one of her favorites.

==================

Boring Legal Stuff: Under the terms of the Byrne convention all works by
this author are copyrighted. Re-posting, redistribution, inclusion in
another work, or any other use of it is strictly prohibited without the
express, written permission of the copyright holder, except that it may be
posted as part of a review or posted to a free-access, noncommercial
archive sites.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction and any resemblance
between characters in this work and actual persons living or dead is
entirely coincidental. This work contains scenes of explicit sex between
adults and is intended for the entertainment of adults only. If you are
offended by depictions of adult intercourse or if you are less than the age
of majority in your jurisdiction then LEAVE NOW! Please do not read or
download this file. Because this is a fantasy, characters in this work may
engage in unprotected sex in a universe where AIDS and other sexually
transmitted diseases do not exist. In reality sex without protection is
unwise and nothing in this work should be taken as condoning such activity,
or any of the other activities depicted herein.

==================

Part 2 - BELLY-DANCER It took two days to travel to Brunei. Two days
without Mr. Solo's hands on my body, without his cock up my ass. I'd
thought I'd calm down being away from him, but I seemed to get hornier with
each passing hour. Bringing myself off in the bathroom several times
seemed to help, but only a little while.

My first stop was a club in Brunei where the owner was known to procure
new girls for the Sultan's harem. I took a plane flight to Brunei, then a
cab to the club.

On my arrival, I'd been told to expect to begin work immediately, but
the club owner, Hasim demanded an immediate demonstration of my dancing
before he'd hire me. Fortunately, I'd rested on the plane.

I was directed to a room upstairs which would be my new living quarters,
provided free of charge to all the girls who worked at the club. I must
hurry because the demonstration must be finished before the club opened in
a few hours.

I quickly removed my clothes. Wearing only my thong, little Goosebumps
rose on my naked skin from the cool air. Of course, my naughty nipples
were also hardening for the same reason.

For no apparent reason I had a sixth sense of being watched. I grabbed
a pillow off the bed to cover my nakedness. I moved around the room like
that looking in the bathroom, behind the curtains, under the bed, but found
nothing.

So, I dropped the pillow and pulled the thong down my long legs, kicking
it aside. Completely nude I stepped over to my travel bag.

Looking back now, so much of what followed would have been different if
I had listened to my sixth sense. If I considered the possibility that
Hasim was watching my every move via closed circuit TV.

Eight different video cameras were installed in each of the girl's
rooms. Hasim's side business was pornography. He used the recordings to
make movies and pumped it out live to several Internet sites. Any of the
girls who had a "special" customer was encouraged to take him to her own
room where everything was recorded and broadcast out to the Internet.

My travel bag unzipped, I removed my costume, placed it on the bed. I
would have put it on then, but remembered my pills. Hasim and about 200
Internet hard-ons had been closely monitoring my fully exposed assets.

I'd forgotten to take my daily birth-control pill on the plane. The
assembled voyeurs saw her unscrew the bottle and pop a pill in her mouth.
I'd just started last week and still forgot sometimes. Then I checked my
belly-jewel-camera. Everything seemed to be working so I inserted it. I
quickly put on my make-up, got dressed, and went back to the club.

==================

Hasim thought her long legs, clear skin, and ample bosom (if they were
real) might make her a candidate for the Sultan, but he wondered at the
girl's strange behavior. If the white pill was an addictive drug, it could
be used to better control the girl and what was so unusual about her
belly-jewel? Hasim made some notes to investigate later.

==================

I entered the spotlight. My eye makeup was pronounced and seductive. I
felt all eyes on my sexy body, well displayed by my costume. It made me
feel strange, sensuous, vulnerable; I had never danced before a large group
of men and women.

The sultry music began. I felt it move through me and take control of
my body as I had been taught. Every part of me moving to the seductive
rhythm, breasts, tummy, ass, and thighs. I contorted into difficult
positions only possible with my limber body, bending over backwards while
still in motion.

My dance went through several paces, following the beat of the music,
from fast to medium to slow but always sexy, then reversing the whole
trend. One by one my veils fell to the floor. My dance became more
provocative, more suggestive. I danced my desire and passion, begging for
sex.

A side-glance at Hasim showed me he was hypnotized by the show. After
some 40 minutes, the last veil was tossed in the air, I fell to the floor,
my forehead touching a spot before Hasim's feet. The dance was done.

I was flushed and aroused, as usually after completing the sensuous
dance. I stood awaiting Hasim's verdict, dressed only in a
butterfly-bralet and panty set that just barely covered my nipples and
pussy.

Hasim was watching my well displayed breasts rise and fall, sweat
trickling down my cleavage as I continued to breath heavily following my
exertions. I never displayed my body in this way before. And this man had
the power to determine my success or failure.

Feeling exposed and vulnerable, I realized that no one would bring me
anything to cover myself until Hasim spoke. My nipples hardened further,
shooting thrumming sensations as if by magic down between my legs where I
felt the first moisture of true arousal.

I hoped he would not notice. Of course, he did and decided to take
advantage of the hot-blooded, large-breasted butterfly before him who
smelled of sex. "There is potential, but several improvement are required,
before your performance is acceptable," he judged, "Are you prepared for
further training? If not, you may depart now."

I desperately wanted to run to my room and relieve my arousal, but I
agreed to Hasim's demand as the only way to continue the mission. He began
my instruction by dissecting my dance almost step-by-step. He showed me a
better way to position each part of my body by moving them into place with
feather light touches that steadily increased my arousal.

Hasim continued, noticing my rapid breathing, flushed skin where he
touched me, and the odor of arousal that rose ever stronger from my body.
Hand, belly, ass, hips, leg, throat, waist, thigh, belly, ass, arm, leg,
hips, head, thigh, hips, foot, belly, waist, ass, hand, throat, thigh, my
blood was pounding. "Feel your body," Hasim droned again and again, as if
there was something else I could do, hand, belly, ass, hips, leg, throat,
waist, thigh, belly, ass, arm, leg, hips, head, thigh, hips, foot, belly,
waist, ass, hand, throat, thigh, my blood was boiling.

I closed my eyes, fighting for control while I awaited his next fiery
touch. I knew that if he were to caress my nipples or pussy at this moment
I'd throw myself at his feet and beg him to fuck me front of everyone
present. Suddenly, I realized he had stopped touching me.

"Are you alright girl?" he asked solicitously. I shuddered unable to
trust my tongue. He continued, "There was some small progress today, you
are permitted another demonstration and further training tomorrow. It is
late now. Return to your room and rest." Silently, I gathered my costume
and went quickly back to my room unable think of anything but the feel of
his hands on my body.

When I entered my room I dropped my costume, ripped off my butterfly
bralet to the relief of my nipples and stripping off the soaking butterfly
panties.

I threw myself onto the blue shirt I'd left in the middle of the bed.
Middle finger plunging into the folds of my pussy, still thinking of
Hasim's magic hands touching me everywhere. I climaxed once, twice,
thrice, four times in a row before my tension finally was drained. As I
fell into an exhausted sleep I realized that I had lost control of the
situation and knew that the next time Hasim inflamed my passions, I'd be
unable to resist.

Hasim smiled as he watched the girl's entire performance on the video monitor. He knew the big-breasted slut could easily be wrapped around his
cock tomorrow. Her body was sufficiently sensitive to be a harem girl. He
would have fucked her today if not for that possibility. Tonight he would
find out all that was needed. Meanwhile he put her videotape on continuous
playback for the Internet. It had the highest rating for the week.

An hour after closing, Hasim verified Betty was still asleep. He
toggled a switch that released sleep gas into her room. After 10 minutes,
he entered the room wearing a mask. The slut still lay with her legs
spread wide, displaying her sex. He walked over and began massaging her
breasts. He enjoyed the feeling for several minutes, then began tweaking
the nipples that had risen under his ministrations. He noticed fluid
dripping from her pussy as she began to moan softly.

He could not know I was dreaming of him and my dream echoed the actual
caresses of his hands on my unprotected nude body.

He was sure now that her abundant tits were real, not artificially
enhanced. He moved down between her legs and inserted two fingers into her
slit.

In my dream I could feel his penetration. The walls of my cunt welcomed
his gentle massage, my juices enabling him to move ever so slowly deeper
and deeper. In my dream, my hips moved helplessly to meet his manly
thrusts, my passion growing by the second. When he touched my maidenhood,
it was the trigger for another overwhelming orgasm.

Hasim felt her cunt shudder as his fingers were soaked with her fluids.
The slut had cum in her sleep! Yet, she was a virgin as he had just
verified by his own hand. Oh Allah, why must I save this one for the
worthless Sultan? Yet, it would mean his life if it were ever discovered
he'd defiled such a perfect harem candidate.

Jasmine was the solution. She would be used to sate his lust as soon as
he was through here. He gently removed the suspicious jewel from the
slut's belly button, retrieved the bottle of pills and went back
downstairs.

He sent the bottle to the pharmacist who lived next store and owed him
many favors. He took out a jeweler's glass and inspected the belly-button
gem closely. By Allah, there was some kind of device inside! He could not
determine more without destroying the gem, so he put it down and went
straight to Jasmine's room.

She was fast asleep, but naked as he'd expected. He pulled down his
pants and jumped on top of her. Jasmine's hands were forced above her head
as Hasim's mouth fastened like a vacuum cleaner on her left nipple. She
was barely awake when she felt his thrust deep into her. She cried out at
being taken so unprepared, but by the time the cry died on her lips he had
shot his seed into her.

When she had caught her breath to scream curses at him, he was already
gone, back to his office. She had been abused like this many times before
and would be many times again. That was her lot as long as she needed the
drugs. Jasmine turned into her pillow and cried herself back to sleep.

Hasim re-examined the gem until he received the bottle back with a
report on the white pills. They were for birth control! This foreign
woman was full of mysteries. Why would a virgin use birth control? It
made no sense, but neither did the gem.

Hasim went back to Betty's room, replaced the pills and the gem exactly
where they had been.

Once more he fondled the defenseless girl, touching all her most
sensitive places until she again shuddered with orgasm, he continued to
judge her heat and see what other mysteries there might be. In the next 10
minutes she came five more times.

This girl was worth 10 times the normal harem price! What a slave she
would be when her full sexuality was awakened within the harem walls. He
turned to leave; deciding Jasmine would receive another visit this night.

The next morning I thought I had many hours until my next demonstration.
Unknown to me, my demonstration had already begun. I remembered the most
amazing dreams of Hasim making love to me as I climaxed again and again.
The images were so strong, I was immediately wet again! My body seemed
unusually sensitive today, especially my nipples and pussy.

This time I began a more leisure process. I cupped my full breasts. I
gently teased myself up the ladder of passion to the brink of climax and
back down. I did this several times, as my mother had taught me. My moans
of passion filling the room as I practiced controlling my arousal. The
unseen audience cheered wildly in appreciation of my unique performance.
The Sultan himself later viewed the videotape.

It felt so good, I decided to test how many climaxes I could produce.
The next time I reached the brink I pushed myself as gently as possible
over the edge. It suffused my entire body. It was glorious! Without
stopping to rest I continued and did it again and again and again. I lost
count around 25, there may have been as may as 100 by the time I finally
exhausted my body's passion.

The sheet under me was soaked with my juices. The whole room stank of
my sex. I looked at the clock. It was only one hour until my next
demonstration! I threw myself into the shower. I shampooed my hair
quickly, rinsed it out then began soaping my body, I ignored my nipples
when they popped out once again, and reached down to my legs and thighs
that tingled as the soap ran across them.

I feared touching my vagina, but that needed cleansing more then any
other part of my body, so I put some soap on a little towel and tried to
use it. The very first touch was electric. A few more rubs and my other
hand shot back to my breast and began to pinch my nipple.

I was lost again in pleasure as I brought myself to climax many more
times. Finally, my head cleared and I was able to rinse the remaining soap
from my body. How long had it been? What was wrong with me? It seemed I
could not go for an hour without touching myself.

I jumped out of the tub and ran out to get a towed from the outside
rack, and slammed right into Hasim. He grabbed my upper arms tightly to
steady himself. Looking down at me in fury he yelled, "Do you not what
where you run, stupid girl? Why are you late? The demonstration was to
begin 20 minutes ago. I have people waiting to see you." His anger burned
into me.

Suddenly my breath caught as my body supplied the answer. My skin
flushed, nipples hardened, and pussy gushed my instant passion. I was
ready for sex now! He saw; he knew. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment,
shame, and fear. I thought he would throw me on the floor and slam his
cock into my obviously eager body.

Hasim could not believe his eyes. This foreign slut reacted to him like
a bitch in heat, but he could do nothing. He had seen how the slut could
not keep from touching herself on the bathroom video cameras along with
visitors who had sent him to fetch the girl. Those visitors from the
Sultan's harem were watching even now on the video monitors.

What a slave this girl would make! He threw her from him. She tripped
and fell onto her back, staring up at him from the floor, her legs spread
wide, flushed, panting, arousal glistening on her cunt.

He roared at her in frustration, "The demonstration is cancelled. Dress
and prepare yourself for an audience commanded by the Sultan immediately."
Hasim turned and stormed out of her room.

I sat there dazed, slowly realizing I would not experience the rape my
body has eagerly signaled. Somehow my body was changing. It was out of
control, broadcasting an almost constant need for sex. I thought back to
the daily sex games that Mr. Solo had coerced. I thought about Hasan's
hands. I thought about masturbating again. What was causing me to behave
like a bitch in heat? What would happen to me if I couldn't get it under
control?

My whirling thoughts cleared to the point I was able to focus on my
mission. From what Hasim said, somehow I had succeeded gaining entry to
the Sultan's palace. Suppressing my body's demand to masturbate once more,
I tried to dress quickly.

I had two problems. First my nipples were so sensitive that the only
thing soft enough that I could stand to wear was risqué blue floral
sleepwear. It was open on both sides showing too much of my tits which
would bounce freely with every step. Second, although the gossamer light
garment was cut very high, I couldn't wear panties. Even if all my panties weren't already soiled, my twat was so wet it would quickly soak through
anything. I'd be flashing my obviously aroused pussy to everyone if I bent
down or even if there were a strong breeze.

There were no better choices and I needed to get downstairs immediately.
So, I dried my soaking bush with a hand towel then tied the bit of cloth
around me. Anyway, I thought, for someone intending to enter a harem, it
might not be so bad. I put on my shoes, threw on some makeup and went
downstairs.

The men present treated me like a lady, but appraised my body like
starving dogs watching a piece of meat. I was whisked into a limousine
that took me directly to the palace.

My travel bag was taken from me and carried by one of the men. I
protested when it was placed in another car. It contained my birth-control
pills and all my equipment. I was placated with promises that it would
soon be returned to me.

Walking through the long majestic hallways of the palace, everyone
stopped to stare and point at the half-naked slut with jiggling breasts walking past them. I flushed with embarrassment. A woman of this country
might be stoned to death if she were caught alone in the street dressed as
I was.

The guide walking besides me instructed that I was not to speak unless
spoken to. We passed into a huge chamber, directly into the presence of
the Sultan. "Show obeisance, touch your head to the floor," hissed my
guide.

The Sultan looked down from his high chair and commanded me to rise. As
I looked up at this powerful man, my body again signaled my need for sex.
The juices of my arousal literally ran down my legs. The Sultan looked at
me, had a whispered consultation with the advisor who had brought me to the
palace, then declared something in his language I could not understand.
The reaction around the room sounded something like "1000 pleasures".

I was led off to the wing in which the harem resided. With my sexuality
growing out of control, how will I resist the all-pervasive allure of the
harem and complete my mission? I must get out quickly or like countless
girls before me, fall victim to the unknown power of the harem to transform
beautiful women into pleasure slaves.

==================

Next: Harem Girl, Cuming soon :)

Enhanced by graphics at http://www.asstr.org/~benwa/ and at
http://www.angelfire.com/film/benwa/ Ratings and Comments available at
above websites. Plain Text at http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/benwa/ and
at and ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/benwa/

********************************************************* ** Your
comments welcome! An author needs constructive ** criticism to improve.
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Betty the Spy, Part 2: Belly Dancer ( MC MF MD reluc 1st F-solo } codes
defined at http://www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/code/scfr.htm

==================

 

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