1. The Church of the Chosen--Part 3


    Date: 11/26/2015, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, Domination/submission, Oral Sex, Slavery, Author: senorlongo, Rating: 81.3, Source: sexstories.com

    Vincent had a heavily armored Cadillac limo; we had a bazooka. We also had an urban tank—really an armored personnel carrier from the army with a heavy-duty battering ram attached to the front. I walked up to his door alone and unarmed once we were ready. I rang the bell, not at all surprised when his slave/wife Luisa answered. “Hi, Luisa, I’m Sean Rogers from down the block. Could I speak to Vincent, please?” “Sure, would you like to come in?” “Thanks, but I can’t. Could he possibly come to the door?” A few minutes later he arrived, thrilled to see me. “Well, well if it isn’t the little slave boy; come to kiss my feet?” “Sorry, Vincent—it’s not a social call. I have warrants for your arrest as well as your two honchos—Louis Granada and Steven Goldman. We know you have all kinds of weapons in the house, but—trust me on this--not as much as we have out here. We have almost a hundred agents and cops, a bazooka in case you decide to take off in that tank you call a car, and our own tank if we want to get into the house badly enough. You have two choices, Vincent—come out here with your two lieutenants and possibly save your life as well as those of your wife and daughter or fight it out and suffer the consequences. We’re prepared to take you down, either to jail or to the morgue. As I said, it’s your choice.” “Yeah, what would stop me from shooting you right here?” “Well, so far we don’t think you’ve killed anyone, and you’re not charged with murder, but kill a Special Agent of ...
    the FBI? That would be life in prison, no parole, at a minimum; you’d die in the joint if you didn’t receive the death penalty, Vincent. You’d never see your family again except through thick reinforced glass. I’ll give you ten minutes to make up your mind.” I turned my back and returned to the street. As I did, police cars, SWAT vans, and the urban tank rolled up the street. Vincent knew we meant business. Jeff Romeo met me in the street. Standing behind a truck he shook his head, “Damn, Sean you must have ice water in your veins. Don’t you want to see that little girl Denise is going to have?” “Yeah, I do. That’s why I did it this way. We’d almost certainly have a shoot-out if we just tried to arrest him. Calling to him with a bullhorn would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull. That’s why I made him come to the door. I’d say the odds of him giving up are about seventy percent.” “What about the others?” “They’ll follow his lead. They’re soldiers, but he’s the general.” We waited for a few more minutes before we heard shouting from the house. “Okay, Rogers we’re coming out.” “I want everyone in the house out the front door—hands on their heads. I strongly suggest any weapons be left inside. We know exactly how many people are in there and we’ll have everyone covered by snipers or marksmen. C’mon—let’s go.” As I expected, Vincent led his entourage out the door, his lieutenants and his bodyguards behind him, his wife and daughter bringing up the rear. We’d search the ...
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