Elena Papoulis Is Interviewed

The blonde-haired Elena Papoulias sat in one of the interviewing rooms on the second floor. The windowless green room was sparse, having a rectangular table, two wooden arm chairs on opposite sides of the table, a straight back chair against one wall, and a clock mounted high on the wall opposite the door.

Mrs.Papoulias was in her early thirties, green-eyed, and of medium height. For the interview she was wearing a red shirtwaist dress and white high heels. Her hair was cut short, but it had layers of waves and curls, the result of hours in the beauty parlor.

At precisely one o'clock, Captain Louis Renault entered carrying a few items. Mrs.Papoulias stood up, saying good after noon. He returned the greeting as he locked the door. Walking over to the table, the Prefect of Police placed an blank exit visa form, fountain pen, rubber stamp with wooden handle, and two pairs of hand-cuffs on one end. The other armchair he pulled away further away from the table and asked Mrs.Papoulias to sit there.

Slightly flustered at already gotten off on the wrong foot by sitting in wrong place, she quickly obeyed. Looking around the room once more, she commented, "I thought we would be doing this in your office, Captain Renault."

Renault, already seated in the other armchair was aligning the exit visa in front of him. "Mrs.Papoulias, I should like to remind you that you are in a Police Station and as such it is =I= who asks the questions."

The woman meekly nodded her head and after a pause, Renault said, "Before we begin the... interview, I would like to review the terms of our agreement." Another nod from Mrs.Papoulias.

"There is a fee for the visa," Renault touched his pencil thin mustache as he spoke. "You cannot afford the fee so I am paying it for you. In return, you will give me certain... accommodations. At any time, you may cancel the interview, and hence the agreement, by saying 'Heil Hitler'."

The woman set up straighter, taken back by the last statement. "Heil Hitler?"

"Yes," Renault confirmed. "Anything else you may say, any protests, pleas, petitions, I shall ignore. Only the phrase 'Heil Hitler' will terminate the interview... Is this all understood?" When she nodded her head, Captain Renault replied, "I cannot hear you."

Once she had verbally said 'yes', and he had corrected her to add 'sir' at the end, the first thing he told her to do was to remove her panties and hand them to him. Things were not going at all like the woman had expected, but she did as she was ordered.

"Now, lift your dress up about your waist and sit down," Renault ordered as he stuffed her panties into a back pocket, like a handkerchief. She did that, hoisting her dress to expose her stockings held up by a white garter-belt and displaying her pubic area. When she sat down and her fleshy bottom touched the wooden seat, she sucked in her breath. "Spread your legs." He had to repeat his order, "Spread your legs and keep them spread." He stared openly at her crotch, commenting, "Hmmm... I was wrong, you are a natural blonde."

The next fifteen minutes were spent with him asking questions and writing down her replies on the form. Each time he would ask a question, he look up to stare into her crotch. Once the form was completed, but not signed or stamped, Renault left the table to stand behind Mrs.Papoulias and pull her left arm back behind her. He clamped one cuff around her wrist, and the other end to the frame of the armchair, above the arm.

"Captain, she looked up at him in bewilderment, "I have already agreed to do whatever you want, there is no need to cuff me." He held up an index finger and frowned as a warning. Once her other arm was secured the same way, forcing her to sit near the edge of the seat, Renault went over to the straight back chair to deposit his Sam Browne belt on the seat, drape his navy blue jacket over the back of the chair, and to remove his trousers and boxer shorts. The wide-cut of the pants during that era allowed them to be taken off without taking off the shoes first.

Returning to Mrs.Papoulias, he grabbed a handful of hair at the back of her head and pulled her face forward. Leaning into him, she parted her lips to take him into her mouth. The woman closed her eyes and began to sway her upper body to and fro, all the while running her tongue across the tip as she tried to perform fellatio on him in that uncomfortable position.

He let her suck him off like that for about ten minutes, but then, without warning he clasped one hand on the top of her head and grabbed her chin with his other hand. He pulled her head all the way forward, her arms straining as she extended the hand-cuffs to their full length. Her eyes flew open in surprise. Rolling her frighten eyes upwards, she stared at him pleadingly as she fought to keep her gag reflex under control. He had shoved his cock all the way down her throat and she was unable to breathe. She struggled under his grip, wiggling her bottom on the seat of her chair. Her legs twitched and jerked, she stamped her feet, and all the while her face got redder. Just when she thought she was going to die from asphyxiation - or pass out at the very least - he moved his hands away.

Her head flew back with a loud gasp for air, saliva spilling out across her chin, and she struggled to catch her breath so that she could complain. Her mouth was wide open as she huffed and puffed, trying to breathe. He only allowed her that repast for three seconds before he grabbed her head the same as before. Yanking her head back down on his cock, he held her head motionless with his shaft fully sheathed deep inside her throat. Her eyes bulged and teared up while the veins in her neck stood out.

Again he removed his hands and she jerked back, fighting for air. Trying to speak but not given the chance. Renault pulled her head to him. He held her down even longer this time, and she actually started to develop tunnel vision. The curtains of blackness on the perimeter of her sight were slowly closing in.

His hands left her head once more and her torso snapped back. There was a look of terror on her tear-stained face, the black streaks of mascara smeared down her cheeks. This time he did allow her to half-way catch her breath. Enough so that she could speak. "Wh-why are you... you doing... doing this C-captain..."

He cut her off by once more holding his index finger straight up in air near her eyes and a scowl on his face. "Do you remember what you have to say to make it stop?" he snarled.

She quickly nodded her head while at the same time glancing at the exit visa on the table. Taking a deep breath, Mrs.Papoulis looked up at Captain Renault and opened her mouth, signalling that she was ready to let him continue.

Which he did. But this time, he did not just jam his cock down her throat and keep it there until her air ran out. This time he jerked her head back and forth rapidly, shaking her like a rag doll. Struggling, garbling noises filled the room. "Gngh!...Gngh!...Gngh!" This would go on for a minute or longer, then it was re-sheath the cock in her throat. He would let her pull off long enough to suck air in and out of her lungs, before forcing her to take him in her mouth once more.

The 'interview' went on for some time. The woman's hair-do was a shambles, her face and neck covered with spit, sweat, and tears. Her body felt weak. Her arms were sore.

At last he allowed her breathing time to extend so long that she was able to recover. She sat there leaning forward, her body shaking, her head bowed with saliva drooling from her parted lips.

She let out a startled gasp when he manhandled her head back into position, but once her mouth was around his cock, he said, "Suck it. Suck it, Elena."

Eagerly she did as he said. Her head and shoulders rocking back and forth; her cheeks caved it from sucking so hard. From some unknown source she found the strength to blow him. Working to get him off so that the ordeal would be over.

When she felt his hands clasped the back of her head, she panicked, thinking it was all about to start again. But his hands were there just to keep her head in place as he started cumming. Pumping out his heavy load of thick, gooey, slightly salty sperm. Realizing that the end had finally arrived, Mrs.Papoulis moved her head back and forth, her lips clamped to his shaft, milking it. The woman swallowed repeatedly, fearing that if she spilled any of his seed he would become angry.

Even after he had stopped cumming, he held her head in place, his softening dick spasming in its ****-throe.

Without a word, he walked away, got dressed, and returned to the chair behind the table. After signing his name with a flourish, he hit it with the stamp and stood up. "Mrs.Papoulis," Captain Renault said to her, "I am pleased to inform you that your exit visa has been approved." As he unlocked the cuffs, he told her, "Present the visa along with your passport to customs and you are free to leave the country."

At the door he paused to touch his index finger to his eyebrow in a casual salute. "I hope your visit to Morocco has been a pleasant one."