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Her arms extended, like she was stretching or reaching behind him. Her remarkably long tongue lolled out of her mouth. Without moving her cheek or removing her eyes from his cock, she gently traced her tongue lightly along his inner thigh.

Much to his shock, if not his outright horror, Manuel felt his balls tighten and his cock begin to stiffen as, despite his fear, he began getting an erection.

Suddenly the Angel jerked her hands from around the chair, bringing with them a second pair of straps. These were secured around his chest. Combined with the strap across his lap, the shackles at his ankles, Manuel was now unable to move so much as an inch away from the chair, which was, in turn, secured to the floor.

Still wearing a slight smirk in one corner of her mouth, the Angel leaned away from Manuel and once again sat before him on her haunches.

"Are you ready to talk?"

Manuel shook his head.

The Angel rose effortlessly to her feet, she once again placed a finger on his shoulder as she walked around his chair, only this time she stopped when she was behind him. For several tense seconds she was silent. Finally he felt her press against the back of the chair. He felt her breath, light against his right side of his face. Her hand slid slowly down his chest, down his abs, into his lap, and on to his cock. She casually held his semi-rigid member.

"Nice," she whispered. "Not fully hard and it's already thick and long. It would be a shame for such a cock to go to waste."

Manuel's member grew stiffer. Her grip still loose and casual, the Angel began slowly jerking him off.

"Don't you think it would be a waste?" she asked. Receiving no reply, she tightened her grip and increased her strokes. "Well, don't you?"

"Si."

"English," she reminded

"Um, yes."

"Good. Very good. You do talk. And perhaps we have a common goal after all." She continued jerking Manuel's dick until it was fully erect. "Very nice indeed."

When she released his cock and stepped away from the chair, Manuel found himself staring down at his traitorous cock as it stood at ridged attention for the enemy. His mind wandered to all the tortures such an expert interrogator could inflict on a hard penis - in truth, possibly no more than could be inflicted on a flaccid one, but the thought was a scary one nonetheless. He fully expected the torture to begin at any second. He was truly shocked when the infamous Angel of Death stepped around from behind his chair wearing nothing but her thigh-high boots.

She stood before him, once more with her legs apart and her face stern. "Tell me what you know of the revolution," she demanded.

Confused, Manuel at first didn't reply.

"Tell me!"

"No."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry it had to come to this," she slowly lowered herself to where she once again crouched with her weight resting on her boots "I was hoping we could come to an agreement" she lowered her head toward his lap "before I was forced to resort to drastic measures" and took his cock into her mouth.

Her hands grasped his knees for support as she fiercely mouth-fucked his cock. It was the most intensive, aggressive blowjob Manuel had ever received, but it only lasted for a minute or so.

The Angel drew back, took a breath then leaned forward to rub one of her nipples slowly along the head of his dick. "Will you talk now?"

"No."

She switched nipples. "Tell me what you know of the revolution."

Manuel said nothing.

Her hands returned to his knees and her mouth to his cock. Once again she pumped away with a vengeance. After a couple of minutes she suddenly pulled away, his dick coming out of the vacuum suction of her mouth with a pop. She rose to her feet. "You disappoint me."

She stood and walked toward the door, her shapely muscular ass swaying gracefully.

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