Episode 21
I’ve wanted to do an episode on Danielle Harris for ages, but decided to give her a co-star role instead.
BTW: “Dollification” seems to be an actual fetish. Look it up!
Codes: Cons, MF, damsel in distress, sex as reward, outdoor sex
Starring: Olga Kurylenko
Guest starring: Danielle Harris
This story is smutty, sleazy, morally corrupt and will probably make you into a worse person. Consequently, it shouldn’t be read by anyone.
This story is FICTION. It did NOT happen. The people portrayed in this story do NOT act this way in real life.
April 2010Bad boyfriends are one thing. Dangerously unhinged psychopaths are another thing entirely.
Far too many women suffer from such problems each and every day all over the world, and Hollywood is no exception. I believe mentally unstable people are attracted to fame and glitz. You’re already familiar with the hazardous situation which arose with Summer Glau and Jessica Biel back in 2004, and that was only one of the major events. The stalker cases are numerous, and the harassment is sky-high, leading to a far too long list of incidents.
A recurring problem is that danger doesn’t always come swinging a huge knife in your face. More than often, it comes with friendly intentions, because true predators are experts at appearing nicer and gentler than they really are. They might feel slightly awkward at times, but their eccentricity won’t keep the women away. Far from it, the opposite usually happens.
This is just my theory, but the well-documented female attraction to bad-boys could be another reason for all these cases. I tell you, it’s rampant in celeb circles. Think about it – why wouldn’t these girls, who’re dictated and controlled by studios, producers, directors and fans on a daily basis, be a little fascinated and attracted to the darker and more exciting side of things?
You might think I’m being pessimistic here, but I want you to know that there are plenty of good-guys out there as well. Most are. I also know there are far too many bad-guys taking advantage of others, hiding their real intentions and sickening desires behind a mask of sincerity and normalcy that shatter as soon as you get them in a face-to-face-conversation, or go down in their basement and find all their dirty secrets. Such was the case of Milos Connor, Olga Kurylenko’s boyfriend for a very brief period in the early 2010s.
You haven’t heard of him you say? Well, there’s a good reason for that. He’s not around anymore, and I’m about to tell you why.
***
This all happened not so long after Olga made a name for herself with that dull James Bond movie. For as great as that film was not, at least it opened eyes and made people take notice of her gorgeous eastern-European features. More roles with minor hits followed in its wake
An international breakthrough like hers might be considered a privilege with a ton of unfortunate baggage. Sure, your salary will increase significantly and you’ll be introduced to all the cool people. For a while, life will be the best it’s ever been for you. But shadows soon loom in the horizon.
This is when it’s crucial to stay alert and consider the people you’re dealing with. Especially the ones who claim to be your friends.
***
«Mmmmmm, right there! Yes!
«You like that baby!?»
«Can’t get enough of it. More! Please!»
«Get ready for it.”
“Aaaaaaaahahhhhhhhhh!”
The room was cast in twilight. I was on the bed, as was Danielle Harris - lying underneath me as I covered her entire body with mine, slowly thrusting inside her.
“You like it?”
“Don’t stop! Please!”
I didn’t stop. Instead, I increased my thrusts - sending Danielle to heaven in another series of labored moans.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm! Fuck yes!”
I had spent more and more time with her these last couple of weeks. We hooked up during an otherwise forgettable premiere screening we both attended. Immediately bonding, we hit a great conversation. Later that evening, talking lead to dancing and at the end of the night we had danced straight into the bed where we stayed for the entire weekend that followed.
Her status as a “scream queen” had always been intriguing to me. She would never reach superstardom, but had made a name for herself in a strict niche market as a fearless performer who dared to do whatever the fuck she wanted, underlined in her impressive side-tattoo that grew each month.
Her tough girl attitude was reflected in her sexual prowess. Danielle impressed me with insatiable needs that made her crave attention several times a day. A normal schedule for her was once in the morning, once in the evening, and once at night.
This day she had started out with an intense cowgirl. She went all out as usual – straining her body until she laid wheezing atop me, utterly spent. Letting her rest for a moment, I had switched over to a doggy style position of which we currently found ourselves in. I had now fucked her into a lazy slumber and sensed she wanted me to take charge.
Danielle was known for her incredibly short stature – no more than 4.11. Her tiny build made her an ideal partner for some truly out-there positions, of which she gladly accepted.
“Do me! Lift me up and fuck the living shit out of me!”
I was cleared for what had turned into a favorite for both of us – a standing full nelson. Still buried inside her, I lifted Danielle underneath her tights so her legs laid to her sides as they pointed forward. Hooking my arms underneath her, I proceeded to wrap them around and grip her by her shoulders. Holding her up in mid-air, I now had total control over her small body - forcing her to take my pounding.
“Aaaaaahhh fuck! I love how you use me like this!” she purred.
“Alright… Here we go!”
Strengthening my grip on her, I didn’t even bother to go soft. I began pounding her with incredible force, just the way she preferred it.
“Nnnnnnhhhh, yeaaa! AAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
The size-difference between us made the act all the more satisfying. Danielle’s tiny body was like an extension of my own as I pounded her in mid-air - her feet swinging uncontrollably underneath her. As I picked up speed, her senseless moans turned into uncontrollable stuttering screams.
“EEEE-EEEE-EEEE-EEE-EEEE-EEEE-EEEE-EEEE-EEE-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEHH!”
Having built tension for nearly an hour, I was about to finish, and nothing would be better than to shoot my load into the little girl impaled on my cock. Danielle’s was close too and teased our arrival.
“EEEEEEEEHH! AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!! FUCKING POUND MY FUCKING CUNT AND FILL ME TILL I FUCKING BURST!”
That’s all it took. We came together in an earth-shattering orgasm that shook the walls and nearly ruptured Danielle’s vocal chords.
“HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!”
It was her third climax of the day, and by far the strongest. I held onto her convulsing body that seemed obscenely small as she shook on my cock, my balls emptying inside her womb, filling her to the brim. Feeling like I was taking hold of an electrified live-wire, our energy literally zapped away. In seconds it was no longer possible to keep standing.
Collapsing down on the bed, we cuddled together for a while.
***
The phone awoke me from a post-coital slumber. Normally I’d be furious over such a crude interruption, but at least we had finished the act. Danielle just snickered as I left the bed.
Picking up the line, things quickly turned serious when I realized who made the call, and why. Most of the time it’s Greta who’s the concerned “parent” making sure her kids are okay, but this time it was Greg, of all people. He’s not usually alert about what goes on in the social circles of our stars, so when he raises the voice of concern it’s reason to take it seriously.
“Um, Alex?”
“Yes?”
“Have you heard any words from miss Kurylenko lately?”
“No, should I?”
“Maybe I’m putting too much into it, but there was a phone call just now. Some friend of hers said Olga was nowhere to be found.”
“As in “missing?”
“Only since last night, but she voiced her concern that Olga had recently been in the company of people with less than noble intentions.”
“She was saying Olga was being harassed?”
“I don’t know… I think what she meant was that she had someone close to her that could do her harm. At first, I didn’t make the connection, but then I began thinking of that boyfriend of hers…”
“She has a boyfriend? I never saw her with anyone.”
“Precisely! This love of hers came out of nowhere as she gathered with friends two weeks ago. I heard he and Olga got along well that night. So good in fact that she started coming late to work. Now, this friend of hers – Natasha her name was - said things quickly got out of hand.”
“He was abusive towards her?”
“Not exactly what she said. I think the common interpretation was that this guy was… “off” as she called it.”
“In what way?”
“According to the people who spent time with them, he didn’t immediately give the impression of a creeper. I mean, there are far too many guys fishing for celebrity pussy so they can brag about it. This guy was nice to her and her friends, but he did stuff she considered unusual.”
“Do you know what kind?”
“Only what Natasha told me. He seemed absolutely obsessed with Olga. Especially with her physical attributes. He would make comments about her jawline, her hairline, the ridge of her nose and so on. As they got intimate on the couch, he would put her on his lap and trace his hands all over her like she was some sort of toy. Olga found it cute, but some of her friends thought it was a bit much.”
“I’m not sure what to make of this. Guys who desperately want to make an impression on Hollywood girls tend to be…”
“Yeah, I’ve taken that into consideration. Sure, that could be it, but this was more than an innocent fling. He was so physical and obsessive that it bordered on lunacy. Like he considered her a goddess.”
“She looks like one though.”
“True, but that’s no excuse. You don’t want fanatics like that hanging around…”
“…because you never know, eh? You’re right, it’s a bit concerning. So Olga’s been missing since…”
“Just last night. That’s not long enough to file a missing person report, but since she was scheduled for filming today, it’s a bit concerning when she never showed up and cannot be contacted. Especially since she’s normally so punctual.”
“I would have to agree.”
“Listen, I’m up here in Ontario with this hot slut Mila right now, but I can give you her friends number. She gave me a swift info drop, but she might be able to provide you with more than I can give you right now. You’re in LA, right?”
“I am. Send me hers, and I’ll contact her.”
Hanging up, I turned to Danielle. She laid on her belly and ogled me. That massive tattoo of hers washed away all innocence. I was being watched by a naughty yakuza princess.
“That was Greg?” she asked. “What’s he doing? He should join us again so the two of you can give me the double-pounding I deserve. I sure miss that fat prong of his. Oh Goooood!” Danielle rolled over on the bed and teased me with an evil grin.
She was right. Last time the three of us had been together turned merry and Danielle handled the both of us like a pro. Early on, I had caught on to her desire for rough sex, but watching such a small woman take an aggressive double penetration was nothing short of obscene. She had been insatiable that night – wailing like a bitch in heat as her holes were filled in all possible configurations. Then she had outdone herself by requesting double anal – a task we surely thought was beyond her limits, but once again, Danielle had surprised us!
“As soon as he returns from Canada, who knows…” I half-promised as I got dressed. Thinking of excuses for not being here when her cravings returned, she was already thinking ahead.
“Don’t mention it Alexander. I’m satisfied. For now!”
“I’m sorry if I won’t be here for our… next session.
Danielle posed her naked body like a model – hooking her hungry eyes into me.
“I’ll be fine. But you better make up for it.” she mused in a faux haughty tone.
“I wonder how.”
“I’m gonna need twice my fill tonight.”
***
Sensing a trip ahead, I left H-Block by car - a Jaguar 220 which Danielle always dared me to break the speed limits with. I parked temporarily at a large hedge as I got in contact with Olga’s concerned friend. There was a noisy playground lying nearby. The joyous screams of children and laughing mothers cast a stark contrast to the dark drifts that concerned my call.
Hanging up, I was momentarily in the blind for how to proceed. Was I getting myself into a dangerous hostage situation again? All my alarm clocks were going off about this.
I considered a quick call to The Zone for assistance, but reasoned it was unnecessary. Natasha had already given me a name and a possible location.
Milos Connor.
Whatever his game was, he was certainly a suspicious figure. Kidnapping? I couldn’t rule out the possibility considering what Greg and Natasha had told me. The latter was in tears when she laid out about how oblivious Olga had been to the whole situation. Chances were she had finally seen some sense and told Milos to fuck off. A guy like him would surely take rejection the bad way. But what would he be capable of?
Deciding it was worth investigating, I mapped the location of Olga’s possible trouble. It was a bit of a drive, but I was already headed in the right direction and I had the address, which made decisions easier.
I had a moment of clarity as I passed a young mother with a baby carriage filled with groceries. Three kids followed her like ducklings. It wasn’t so much a feeling of pity as a spark of grim self-confidence. I must’ve made some right choices in my life if I saved hot celebrities in need for a living.
Yes, danger might await, but it was the life I’d chosen.
***
Finding the Connor property was no problem. The problem, as in the Doyle Durner case, was that it was difficult to approach without causing suspicion since the neighbors were few and far between. What is it with all these people being social recluses? Is it because they know they’ll be found out if their eccentricity is questioned?
At least, in this case there WAS a neighborhood. The closest property laid maybe half a mile away, but if there would be a shoot-out like last time, people should be alerted.
I knew my Jaguar stood out like a sore thumb, so I made sure to park far inside the wilderness about a kilometer away. The underside scraped along sharp stones and branches twisted against the steel as I backed underneath some low hanging curtains of leaves. I admit I hadn’t made the wisest car-choice that day.
Walking the rest of the distance, I made some mental notes as I studied Connor’s house. It laid along an abandoned field about 500 meters from the nearby forest. Natasha had been right, it looked like a cabin. A well-built two-story building that could’ve functioned as the base for a hunting trip. In a way, that described the kind of person I feared Milos to be. A hunter. I hoped I was wrong.
The place seemed deserted, which should give me some time. If Milos, against all expectations, turned out to be an innocent man I hoped he would forgive me for taking a celebrity disappearance seriously.
A winding gravel path led up to the front door, but I wasn’t going that way. Trying a more confidential approach, I went for the basement. Standard espionage protocol.
I knew getting inside would be difficult when I was met with a large metallic garage port that seemed impossible to budge with the equipment I had. Did he have a car inside? It seemed unlikely with no roads leading to it, although a rusty old tractor was parked on the far side of the building. What looked like a set of heavy oil barrels were spread around – making the backyard seem like a private refinery.
Sneaking around at ground level got me nowhere. I needed to find another way in.
Reluctantly moving up to the veranda right above, I looked around. No one in sight. Not even a car. Only the buzzing of insects and the sound of mysterious animals yelling in the woods nearby was heard. I reasoned the place was deserted this time of day. Fine by me. Confirming I was alone, I picked up a set of handy metal pins. My skills as a lockpick were legendary back in the days when it was a matter of life and death, but I was getting rusty. It took me a whole minute to get the door open. Luckily, there was no alarms blaring.
A retro modern living room space welcomed me, like I was opening a time portal and walking straight into the 1960s.
Unlike my previous kidnapping drama (of the ones I’ve told you about at least), I had no reason to believe Olga was taken here yet, but I could gain important cues to what kind of person this Milos guy was. Moving further inside, I was alert. Mapping, sensing, scanning as I went. Previous senseis and teachers told me I was unusually adept at sensing anomalies, and had a keen eye for anything unusual. Maybe they had a point. At first, no-one would consider this residence anything out of the ordinary. There were no severed heads bolted to the wall, no rusty cages with human remains, and no dead grandmas tied to chairs.
Look further and you see the truth revealed. In Connor’s case, he had a particular interest for dolls. There were more than a couple in each room and they were seemingly placed at random, staring at me from odd corners. Dolls aren’t unusual artifacts to collect, but there was a sinister quality to these. All were characterized by a freakishly lifelike design. I felt like I was being ogled by miniature humans, which was more than a bit uncanny.
I paused in the hall leading to the front door. I had to admit this was a rather spectacular house for a guy who was said to be in his early thirties - most likely inherited from a rich family.
A large metallic cabinet to my left revealed a platform. An elevator? Old people in wheelchairs would have use for these, but what was Milos’ idea? Wondering what laid underneath me, I decided to enter the basement. Thinking of my own secret cellar, I expected to find something strange down there.
A winding flight of stairs confirmed the practical use of that elevator. No way anything large could be carried down this way. The first room downstairs was fairly ordinary although it contained a myriad of bottles of which I hadn’t seen outside the physics lab in high school. The air was stale, with a lingering smell of burnt plastic and foreign substances impossible to identify. The amount of queer and unusual equipment lying around was almost impressive.
On the sole door hung a sign:
“Doll crypt”
Considering all the dolls I had seen on the ground floor, I found those words most worrying. A kaleidoscope of perverse possibilities already ran through my head as I opened the door.
As I crossed the doorstep I just about turned to stone. I thought for sure I had been spotted and even raised my fists in defense, but the person glaring at me wasn’t human, but a life-size mannequin in the shape of a woman. Further inside, I saw other dolls. At the furthest wall was a black door with a sign saying “Transformation chamber”.
Fuck! These were nothing but words, but they freaked me out.
Wanting to investigate, I had only crossed half the distance to the door when I heard suspicious activity above me. A car was parking outside. Shit!
Throwing myself around, I made sure the place looked like it had been when I arrived. That wasn’t much of a problem as I hadn’t touched anything, but you never knew with these people. Some of them can sniff you out due to the changed space between dust particles.
Running to the stairs, I went up a few steps, making sure I was outside the line of vision from the door above. Listening intensely, I didn’t have to wait more than a few minutes before there were sounds of people entering the main hall.
Someone was carrying something large inside the house. Huffing and grunting echoed down the stairs. I focused my listening. A guy was doing heavy lifting, but suddenly there was the faint sound of a person groaning, as if awakening from a slumber. It didn’t belong to a guy - this voice was female. Olga?
There was abrupt silence as if someone got muffled. I would gladly play hero if it meant I could get Olga back home safe and sound, but I had no idea how to assess the situation above. If I sprang into action with Milos standing ready with a shotgun, I would make matters infinitely worse, and I didn’t want to endanger Olga if she really was the person up there.
Things had been silent for over a minute when some sort of rumbling started. I was unsure what I heard. Someone was moving a piano around?
After a minute or so, the house got silent again. Too silent. I was about to move upstairs and try a spy-peek when there was a clanging report from inside the room. I almost lost my shit before I realized the elevator was coming down.
Hiding behind a large work bench, I saw more than enough as the platform descended into this dusty basement. A guy was standing with his back to me. About six feet, dark short hair with a grey hoodie. He was holding onto what seemed to be a wheelchair. As the elevator halted, that female growling became audible again. Someone was definitely being held against their will, and I had an idea who.
Hunching down, I didn’t get any impression of neither the guy nor the woman in the wheelchair before he rolled his “patient” inside the mannequin room. The door slammed shut.
Well, this confirmed lots of things. Milos was certainly a malicious character, and he was most likely the reason Olga hadn’t come home last night.
The transformation chamber. Whatever crazy shit was going on here, the answer surely laid inside the room with the black door. I hated being discreet when human lives might be at stake, but I had to consider what would happen if I rushed things.
Waiting is the worst and most nerve-wracking part of any kind of work. Especially this kind. One minute passed. Enough? Ah, fuck it! Not a goddamn second more!
The door to the mannequin room slid open without a sound. I didn’t have to worry as there was no-one here. The kidnapper had moved to the next room, and I followed, acting on a desire to speed things up.
Running over to the black door, I utilized the ninja knowledge of “laying low and imitating an overgrown kitten”. Not the best strategy, but it tended to work if no-one expects you. It was a chamber all right. The size of this room baffled me. It wasn’t just that it was invented like an amateur laboratory, but that this cellar was far bigger than the house above would suggest. It was as if the building was a basement with a house, and not the other way around.
I knew the two people were inside here, but my view was blocked by… something not easily put into words. At first, I didn’t believe what I saw, but as I got closer I got to take in the madness.
The lunatic had sculpted semi-believable human dolls by reshaping mannequins like the ones from the room I just left. A row of them – maybe a dozen. All female, and all clad in different kinds of sexy attire – lingerie, latex dominatrix stuff, baby dolls, fishnets and BDSM outfits. From distance it was easy to get tricked. The faces were laced in soft substances like latex, their visible bodies prepped with skin-like rubber that made them look semi-human in appearance. Credit where credit’s due, it was excellent work, but it didn’t at all take away from the creepiness.
One of the dolls was far more disturbing than the others. Standing in a red dress, the face of the doll was obscured by a photo of Olga’s face, complete with a wig on its head. I had no doubt that if I removed the paper, I would find a near-perfect sculpting of Olga’s physical features. This loon was even more deranged than I had expected.
Using the dolls as a cover (had he turned my way he might have mistaken me for one of them), I tried to assess the scenery before me.
A large operating table covered in white sheet was placed at the far end of the room. The guy I reasoned to be Milos was sitting on it. Humming a tune – “Lover Doll” by Elvis - he held a blowtorch to a handful of jagged needles. In the wheelchair beside him, tied by her wrists and ankles, sat a beautiful brunette clad in jeans and a black shirt. Her face was flushed with sweat and tears. Tape was covering her mouth and red lips were painted on it. Olga Kurylenko in person. She was a heartbreaking sight as I had only previously seen her looking dazzling on galas and in high profile environments.
Damnit! This whole situation was such a flashback to the Durner situation it was almost unbelievable. And Milos was, if possible, even more unhinged. Setting the blowtorch down on the floor he began speaking.
“Let your boyfriend take care of you darlin’. This is an important day in our lives. Our relationship will never be the same. Eeeeverything will be better. I’ve already forgiven your childish refusal to accept my charms. You may think of me as a madman right now, but in a few hours you’ll see that Milos was right aaaaall the way.” he droned like an escaped mental patient.
Olga sat petrified. She was crying by then and made pathetic whimpering sounds as Milos danced around her, spouting nonsense.
Later on, I would learn that Milos wasn’t just a reclusive fanboy with silly ideas who got a lucky deal when he met up with Olga. The guy was a stalker with a doll obsession that was off the charts. The apartment above should have clued me in, but this guy was not a collector who found rare dolls to sell to the highest bidders. Make no mistake - Milos was prepared to go all the way to satisfy his unhealthy fetish.
To put it short; the sick fuck was attempting to drain Olga for blood and inject her with embalming fluids - transforming her into a doll! In other words, her death must’ve been considered an acceptable part of his dream of having a real-life dollified girlfriend. It still boggles my mind how far the depths of human depravity go, and it was all taking place right in front of me.
Milos seemed to be a decently built guy, although he would be no match for me if push came to shove. I did however not intend to fight him if possible. A hit with a wrench would do the job just fine, and the right equipment found its way into my hand from a nearby shelf.
As I considered how to close the last twenty feet, Milos was doing his best to “calm” down the poor woman in the wheelchair. Wielding a syringe in front of her face, he presented it to Olga like some sort of precious gift.
“Darlin’, this will all be over soon. I promise you, there’ll be no pain.”
Olga wasn’t the least bit reassured by his words and continued to struggle in her ropes. She moved so violently I feared she would topple over.
“Now… I think twenty milligrams would be enough. At first!” He said as he filled the syringe with some green liquid that looked radioactive.
Not wanting to let Olga cope with this lunacy for a second more, I moved. Milos was occupied with his syringe as I closed in.
Like in all good action movies, the hero is revealed the second before he’s about to strike. No need to watch the movie if it isn’t going to be a brawl, right? Luckily, the fight, if you can call it that, was a short one. As Milos turned to the sound of me approaching, I was already swinging the wrench towards him. I was hoping for a hit to the head, but as he twisted his body, the strike hit him in the neck. It wasn’t enough to take him down permanently, but sufficient for a temporary defeat.
There was a muffled whine from Olga as she watched her boyfriend topple over on the floor, knocking over the blowtorch and sending it rolling over to an open cabinet. Although she was unsure about my intentions, her gaze turned into one of relief as I began to tear at her bounds to get her loose.
“I’m Alexander from StarGazer.” I hurried as I pulled off her gag. “Let me get this off you.”
She spat and tried to clean her mouth, followed by gasping and coughing.
“You’re who?”
“Alexander, from…”
“Yesh! I hear you! Good enough! Just get me out of here.” Olga gasped, followed by another series of coughing.
I untied her. Trying to stand up, she wavered on shaky legs.
“Here, let me give you a helping…”
“No! I can stand.”
She rose, determined to prove herself. There was a heavy sigh as she took a tentative step forward. Throning above the guy on the ground, I imagined she was about to spit some venom at him, but Olga went further. In sudden fury, she planted a hefty kick in Milos’ groin.
“Hey, Olga…” I hesitated.
“Take that fucker!”
I almost had to drag her away from the guy. It wasn’t that he didn’t deserve it, but only living people can stand trial.
“Calm down, Olga it’s over.” I tried to reassure her as there was a flash of light before us.
As things turned out – it wasn’t over! Due to Michael Bay-logic, the cinematic showdown always requires something to catch fire and blow up, and that was precisely what was happening.
Milos’ blowtorch hadn’t defused as he knocked it over. Instead, the flame had been pointed towards some old papers inside the cabinet which had just ignited. Worse, the fire gave off an almost blue-ish quality, something that indicated gasses floating around inside this dense room with tons of chemicals contained in unstable bottles and cannisters. A small glass bottle popped due to overheating, and now the entire wall to the right was covered in flammable liquids. It was frightening to see how quickly a chemical fire can spread. Things were popping with surprising ferocity, spewing fluids all over the place.
“Oh, fuck! With all the explosive shit inside here…” Olga said miserably.
The room before us caught fire like it was made from paper. This place could turn into a fireball in seconds – the raging fire already blocking the black door leading to the stairs. That left us with…
“Here!” I pointed. Behind the “operating table” it was possible to make out a heavy tree-construction in the form of a door. Pushing the board away, I sensed no handle, but thrusting my entire body against it seemed to work. Forcing it open by brute strength, I pulled Olga with me into the largest room of the house – an abandoned garage.
It wasn’t my intention to let Connor go up in fire, but my efforts to drag him inside with us was stopped by the heavy door swinging shut in my face. The sound of a lock smacking into position was heard. Was it provided with a deadlock mechanism? Trying to drag the door open was futile.
Olga ran around the large room, sounding like she was fighting against a rising panic attack. A large oil drum was standing in the middle. I considered it with more than a little concern as Olga began scanning the walls for a switch to raise the large metallic gate in front of us.
“There’s got to be a button somewhere.”
She was obviously scared out of her mind, but she kept herself under control. I got the feeling she’d been through this kind of drama before, which wasn’t too far from the truth given her status as a Bond-girl. Acting isn’t the dumbest job if you find yourself in these situations.
There was sudden screaming inside the “transformation chamber”. Someone had just woken up to a room engulfed in flames.
Olga must’ve been through so many conflicting emotions right then. I didn’t exactly envy the guy, but Olga seemed cold and bitter about it.
“He… He’s made his damn choice.” she said, close to a sob.
“It’s not that he’s not a nice guy, but he needs to be put to justice for what he’s tried to do to you… To explain this madness.”
“Fuck him!” she spat as something shattered on the other side of the door. There was also the distinct sound of machinery of a kind, although I didn’t have time to identify it. The air was getting dense, like it was about to ignite.
“Any luck with that switch?” I asked, as I began looking for it myself. If we didn’t find it quick, we at least needed to find something to tear it open with.
Olga didn’t answer as she tore stuff from the shelves along the walls.
I saw smoke begin to pour through the cracks in the oak door. If the guy was still alive he had to be nearly insane with carbon monoxide poisoning. Puzzled, I was sure I heard the sound of rumbling.
“HEY! For God’s sake, stop concerning yourself with that fucking asshole!” Olga nearly shouted as she finally located the switch.
Punching it, she activated the gate before us.
“I know, I know, I know, but something is happening ins…” I began as I was startled by a harsh roaring sound. It came from the other side of that oak-door. This was…
“The fucker’s got a chainsaw!” I yelled as a rotating blade tore through the door.
Jumping up and down, screaming in panic, Olga began pulling and tearing at her hair as the large metal door slowly rolled upwards. The chainsaw blade tore through the wood behind us with great force, causing splinters to fly around us.
Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s got nothing on this guy. As Milos kicked open the rest of the door, he flailed around in a victorious chainsaw-jig. Around his head he had fastened the cut-out page of Olga’s face, topped with the dark wig.
“Outside, quick!” I roared – the opening now large enough to let us through.
Right then it seemed like Milos was the biggest threat, but in reality, he had just signed his death warrant. By tearing open the door to the garage, he fueled the heat inside with a large pocket of air rushing in from the open garage door - causing the fire behind him to explode. In seconds, the flames engulfed him. He spent his last moments alive looking like an iconic painting of an immolated saint. Letting go of the chainsaw, the madman began screaming – waving his hands in the air - a dark silhouette against a raging firestorm.
“Nonononono, my creation! MY CREATIOOOOOOOOOOON!”
That was the last anyone ever saw of Milos Connor. There was no time to celebrate or mourn, because we could join him any second. Fire had already spread to the large drum inside the garage, and there was a squelching sound underneath our feet as we ran. The ground outside was wet with gasoline or some other substance, and up ahead stood the barrels I had spotted previously. Dozens of them. Milos’ property would be an inferno in a few seconds.
“Olga! This place is a death trap! Run for the woods!” I managed.
That’s when time itself froze and the world turned white. I remember Olga yelling something to me, but I didn’t have time to make out what she said.
If there was a sound, I never hear it. Instead, there was a physical quality to the explosion, like sound itself was sucked out of the air as the large barrel inside the garage burst.
The shockwave didn’t hit me with full force since I passed right by a solid tree branch which took most of the impact, but it still knocked me off my feet and sent me headfirst into the dirt. In my confusion, I got nothing but a fleeting impression of what transpired around me. The effects of the detonation were devastating to the garage and Olga’s clothes. Like a naughty magical trick, her clothes disappeared all the way down to her shoes – her pants, shirt, t-shirt, panties and bra were violently torn off and scattered in the split of a second. Thank God the garage hadn’t contained much metal equipment, or else the two of us would’ve been ripped to pieces by shrapnel.
Olga was harried by the violent shockwave, not to mention her sudden nudity as she fell to the ground. As I came to my senses, I struggled to my feet. Grabbing her by the wrist I dragged her away. The entire front-side of the building was ablaze, and fire began to close in on the jerry cans and barrels around us, just like I had feared.
We needed to get as far away as possible.
In another situation, the sight of a beautiful woman running naked through the grass would’ve been enthralling, but right now we were in a life-threatening situation.
We were halfway down the field when there was another explosion that sent debris scattering around us. The blast was not as big as the first, but deadly for anyone close enough.
A distance of about five hundred meters had been covered as we finally reached the forest, but I didn’t feel safe. There was a crackling sound intensifying behind us, like a chemical clock counting down to Armageddon.
“Further inside. This is too close.” I shouted.
I had just about gotten calm enough to get impressed by her rocking body when the ground itself shook. This explosion must’ve been recorded on the Richter scale back in LA. Even though we were over half a mile away, I felt the heatwave wash over us. The trees caught a dim light, like the air itself was about to ignite, before it disappeared in a shockwave that shook the trees like a hurricane. It was THAT big of a blast.
Pressing Olga down beside me, I prepared to be obliterated by the next Tsar Bomba as branches and leaves rained over us. I heard intense breathing and realized it was my own.
Having laid down for about a minute, I slowly rose and dared to look back. The trees couldn’t obscure the Connor property beyond, and at first, I didn’t believe what I saw. Where a solid two-story building once stood, there was now a large smoking crater with a burning skeleton of a structure still standing. The tractor I had seen parked beside the cellar gate laid in pieces. Minor fires were forming on the grassy field although it didn’t seem like they were going to spread.
One thing’s for sure; there was no need to call in the authorities. The large mushroom cloud hovering above us would be visible for miles. Everyone who saw it must’ve had a minor heart attack before running for their phones. Available units all over the county would be mobilized in minutes.
Beside me, Olga sat on her knees as she studied the carnage. She looked like a huldra from Norse mythology.
“Looks like this was it.” I sighed - acting cool like heroes do when the movie reaches climax. I only lacked a pair of sunglasses. “You’re okay?”
Olga said nothing. Unable to comprehend the situation she had just been through was my guess. Had she been standing in an urban warzone she would’ve been a pitiful sight. Her fair-skinned body was only clad in soot and a pair of trainers. Her hair was literally smoking from the heatwave that tore her clothes. It was tussled so bad that it had more than tripled in volume, something which would’ve been comical under any other circumstances. She was a complete mess, but at least she was physically unhurt. In fact, even though it would be vulgar to say so, there was something about her unkept appearance that made her so much hotter.
Turning from the chaos, she looked up at me with the most tranquil eyes I had seen in a while. Shock? It seemed to be more than that.
“You…” she stuttered as she rose to her feet on shaky legs. I feared she was about to faint and laid my hand on her shoulder to support her, but it turned out that was not what was happening at all. Her hand reached out and caressed my own shoulder.
“Are you alright?” I asked her.
“I am.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m… I’m more than alright. I’m fucking thriving.” she spoke in a raspy voice. It was a hilarious response given how utterly fucked up she looked. “That fuckbag Milos is inside there?”
“Uh, what’s left of him I guess. The paramedics will have to collect atoms by now!”
“Serves him right!”
She broke into a bitter laugh. There was a gleeful smile on her.
“Holy shit! This was a close call.” I panted, still trying to comprehend the disaster.
“Fuck yeah!” Olga snorted, fascinated by the havoc spreading before us,
I was unsure how to speak to her, wanting to calm her down, although Olga definitely had something on her mind.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?”
That tranquil gaze of hers told another story. Something was knocked loose inside her – or at least rearranged, as if a different personality had surfaced in her thanks to the blast.
“You need to get some clothes on. Here let me give you…”
“Fuck clothes. There’s something else you need to give me.”
“And wha…”
“You know exactly what.”
“Ummm…”
“Yeah! Exactly what you think.”
She stared at me intensely. I tried not to stare back and take advantage of her naked state.
“I’m not sure I…”
“Oh, but you are. Let’s fucking do it! Right here, right now!”
“Huh?”
I realized Olga wasn’t playing around. She was temporarily confused and maybe a bit shaken, but most of all she was turning hot and horny, as if she got off on this devastation.
“You’re a much more reliable and safe catch than that fucking asshole.” she said, eying me like a wolf staring at a lamb.
“Take it easy Olga. Don’t restrain yourself so soon after...”
“I don’t care.” came like an annoyed pout, as if she didn’t want to admit she had just been through a near-death situation. She grabbed my arm, trying to move it to her breasts. I jerked it back, but Olga just smiled maliciously.
“You might come to regret this Olga. There will be people around here in a short time, and if they see us like this….”
“Let them fucking stare. They deserve a fucking porno show now, since we just destroyed the best cabin in their neighborhood.”
“That wasn’t us though Olga. Listen…. OW! Please stop! If you continue like this, it will be impossible...” I began.
I was actually warning her that if she pushed me further, I would be unable not to budge to her desires. Especially not when her totally naked state was doing things to my dick. As she kept pulling my arms and trying to urge me on, I found it was difficult to stand straight.
“I’m as conscious and clear as I can given this fucking mess, but I need you to fuck my head straight again.” she laughed. She sounded like she was skipping the line between sanity and madness.
The worst thing was that it almost sounded reasonable. Think back to when I was going native with Summer and Jessica after the Durner case, and you understand the situation I found myself in. Extreme situations demand extreme reactions, and trauma makes most living species horn up one way or another.
In any case, reasoning with this woman was futile, so I had to give in sooner or later, and Olga’s arguments helped me fall into predictability.
“A guy like you should have all the tits and ass in the world if there was any justice.” she growled as my shirt was forced off by this woman who looked like she had crawled out from her cave after having slept since the last ice age.
“If… mmmppphh!” was all I could say before Olga jumped onto me, coiling her arms and legs around me as she thrust her lips onto mine.
She was as uncontrollable and wild as her appearance would suggest – like an untamed neanderthal who jumped any male specimen she could find in a desperate effort to mate.
Her tongue began parring my own, forcing itself so hard into my mouth I wondered if she would try to get into my stomach. She was THAT randy. Ready or not, I met her attacks, partially because there was no other way of communicating with her right then, and partially because this was turning me on big time.
As Olga finally pulled off my lips, she almost hyperventilated as she held our kiss for over a minute.
“I need you to get hard for me.” She mewed in my arms as I tried to hold her up.
She couldn’t have noticed, for I was already rock hard. Right then, the first thing on my mind was to get her off me so I could remove my pants, but Olga was thinking ahead. Letting herself down on the ground, she began violently dragging me into the woods. There was a vacant and thoughtless smile on her face, which furthered the impression that I was being taken by a wild supernatural creature.
We ended up behind one small hilltop that covered our presence for prying eyes. Olga was satisfied and kicked off her slippers before undressing me if you can call it that. Ripping and tearing clothes off was more like it. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Her mind was operating on sexual overdrive, and she hated the mere sight of clothes now.
Finishing the job for her, I stood before her, hard and throbbing thanks to Olga’s uncontrollable spirit.
She considered the size of my raging boner, and her wicked smile widened so hard that she looked non-human. Staring into my eyes, she took a step back and measured our distance before entering a jumping stance. Then she launched herself onto me.
I mean it: She literally jumped!
My memories are hazy when it comes to this part, so I can’t confirm if she actually impaled herself on me with that jump, but that's how I remember it, and that’s what it felt like – she opened her legs in mid-air and threw them around me the moment I entered her. I still think it’s a bit far-fetched. I mean, is that even possible?
In any case, Olga was bouncing on me before I knew what was happening. Her legs and arms were wrapped so tightly into my flesh she must’ve wanted to fuse the two of us. I couldn’t do anything but try and keep her still, because she set off with a speed that was nothing short of desperate. In seconds, she was crying and screaming into my face.
“YesyesyesyesyesyesyesYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES! YEEESSYESSSSSYEEEEESYYYYEEEEEEEEESSSSSYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I held onto her, feeling her gyrate on me like some sort of alien lifeform. Olga did all the work as she held onto me. I concentrated (and I had to concentrate hard) on grabbing her ass as her tights clamped around me so tightly it was almost scary. Although I found Olga’s total loss of control a bit creepy, it was immensely pleasurable all the same - like a bundle of sexiness that went amok on you. Her face screaming into my own underlined the experience.
I was a few minutes into our mating when I discovered it didn’t matter if I held onto her as Olga was practically glued to my torso – her grip around my neck tightening so hard Danielle found blue marks on my body the day after.
Olga rode my cock for several minutes before her grip strength ran out and she had to slow down. How many times she came during that attack I don’t know, but Olga was just getting started. Nodding her head downwards, she opted for me to get down on the ground. She was ready for round two.
Given Olga’s raunchy state, I could only comply. Laying down on the forest floor, I barely noticed the feel of soft moss before the rabid woman mounted me, letting out another one of those inhuman roars.
“HHHIIEEEEEEAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHH!”
«Fucking like animals» is an expression you sometimes hear, but the vigor that Olga and I put up in the forest that day was the very definition of that phrase. It was more primal than any of my encounters I’d had in my days at StarGazer up until then - maybe with the exception of my unfortunate tryst with Zhang Ziyi in the Malayan jungle five years prior. Olga’s endless growling made me recall those memories. It was like she gave up her humanity and regressed into an animalistic stage – screaming at full force into my face as her hips set off with unnatural speed.
Her sexual insanity was getting to me as well, and what I did next was in reaction to it. I had lots of strength to spare, and I wanted to put up some resistance since Olga had already brought me so close.
Grabbing her ass and pulling her off me, I might have interrupted one of her numerous climaxes (although it was difficult to tell since she sounded like she was in a state of constant orgasm), but she smiled gleefully as I dragged her over to a large old trunk that seemed like a rudiment from medieval times.
Olga understood my intent and acted on it, placing her palms onto the large trunk before her. Frustrated with my hesitation, she turned her head and smacked her ass in encouragement as she stared at me in impatient anger. Giving in to her desires, I bucked into her so hard she almost hit the tree in front of her. We went back in action - mating without any care of anyone seeing us, acting solely on a primitive desire to get ourselves off.
Holding onto her rump I thrust my hips into her, slamming my cock as deep as I could as Olga bucked back into me, matching my pumps. She bended her legs slightly and swayed her back, holding onto the trunk.
Olga communicated with nothing but grunts and growling, sounding so guttural and inhuman that if people had heard us, they wouldn’t recognize this as the sound of anything else but wild beasts. Feeling that same animal lust hit deep within, I decided to go a step further and grabbed her long dark hair, yanking her head backwards, which only caused a lustful roar from her. With her hair in my hand, I was able to intensify my thrusts until wet slapping sounds echoed through the forest as I pumped into her, sending Olga’s tits into pendulous swinging motions underneath her.
“AAAAAAHH - AAAAAAAHH- AAAAAAAAHHHH- AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Grabbing her under the knee, I lifted her left leg and pushed it forward. I still held her hair in my right hand and pulled her head back as I twisted her leg forward. In seconds, her knee touched her shoulder. It was a display of acrobatic lust that fired Olga up so intensely that she lost any human reason she had left.
“RRRAAAARRGGGHHHHHHH! GGGGGGGRAAAAAARRRGGGHHH! RAAAARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHAAAAAARRRRRHHHH!”
For a moment Olga’s eyes changed color into yellow and her irises transformed into slanted cat-eyed slits. At least, that’s how I remember it, but like I said; I wasn’t fully conscious by then and saw lots of crazy things. I was close to the limit of the physical definition of humanity. As was Olga. Our fleshy slaps and inhuman snarling pitched into a crazed inferno with only one possible outcome.
We came together in a primal scream that must’ve shaken the forest as much as the explosion of Milos’ cabin. We became an organic unity that formed and deformed onto itself until it entangled and disintegrated completely. I collapsed to the floor and dragged Olga with me, continuing to shoot my sperm into her. It wasn’t something I registered as much as I knew. The next thing I clearly remember was the two of us lying together in the soft moss.
Lying beside her, I listened to my heartbeat slowing down from about three billion.
“Thanks… I needed that…” Olga panted after a few minutes.
Although she looked even messier than right after the explosion, she sounded reasoned now - as if she was finally coming to terms with what had happened. Less than one hour earlier, she was being held prisoner by a dangerous psycho. Now she had participated in wild monkey sex in the forest, barely a mile from the smoking ruins of the house her kidnapper had wanted to turn her into a human doll.
Lesser people would enter catatonic shock from similar situations, so I’d say she handled it surprisingly well. Maybe that session of ours was what she needed.
We laid there for an undefined amount of time. Eventually we heard sirens in the distance - far away but closing fast. Deciding to enter civilization again, I opted to give her my shirt or my trousers so she was able to look semi-presentable. Olga dismissed it as she got up and walked beside me stark naked. The drama must’ve unleashed her inner naturalist, but I eventually got her to wear my shirt as we headed for the smoking crater that had been the Connor property.
The fire department arrived minutes later. It was an afternoon of many confused questions and equally confused explanations.
***
Certain important lessons were learned that day:
1. Real-life dollification is bad business.
2. Handsome guys can hide perverted secrets.
3. Be careful who to trust.
Olga certainly learned all of that and threaded more carefully around people from then on. At least I never again heard of any boyfriend-trouble from her.
I spent the rest of the week with Danielle, calming down after my latest adventure. Although we didn’t expect any visitors, we got one nonetheless. Olga showed up at the door three days later. She had cleaned up nicely and looked splendid – like an Eastern-European ambassador.
Still, that unhinged and animalistic side of her must’ve lingered since our first encounter, because she insisted she got the chance to “thank” me properly, as if the first time hadn’t been more than enough.
Danielle, having heard all the intimate details, was amused by Olga’s initiative and more than willing to let her act on it. As long as she got to participate of course. Happily inviting Olga inside, we made sure to have all the fun it was humanly possible for one guy and two women to have.
NEXT: Defying contract expectations with Gemma Arterton
Topic: Decades of Decadence [Episode 27: India Eisley] (Read 315007 times)