Diamonds Are Forever

Note: This is a re-imagination of two scenes in Diamonds Are Forever, a particular James Bond title where the gentleman/rake spy commits violence on several women using his bare hands. I’m sorry I can’t recreate the dialogues and scenes verbatim, but you get the idea. This is a fan fiction, not plagiarism nor screenplay hacking.

Mediterranean Coast, 1971
The French woman in brown bikini was sunbathing on her cove villa when she saw a pleasant surprise. A well-built man was landing on her sanctuary with a glider. “Who are you?” she asked as he approached.

“My name is Bond, James Bond,” he answered in manly Scottish accent.

She was immediately attracted to the man in the safari shirt, unaware of the danger. “Is there something I can do for you?” she showed her front view to her, her assets which she covered with her bikini.

Mr. Bond moved closer and kneeled before her. “Yes, as a matter of fact there is,” Marie rose and also kneeled, facing him, smiling, anticipating the masculinity she would enjoy in a moment. James Bond held her body and moved his hands, untying her bikini. Marie was looking at him dreamily.

“There is something I’d like you to get off your chest,” Bond was removing Marie’s bra confidently. But in a snap, he twisted the bra on Marie’s neck. The French woman immediately covered her chests (a weird reflex) and was deeply shocked.

James Bond twisted the bra to choke her windpipe tightly and smiling sadistically. Before getting into Marie, he had smashed an Asian man’s head through several furnishings and threatened to split open a Northern African man’s head with roulette. This woman before him is no exception. All of them are associates to international terrorist Ernest S. Blofeld, all responsible for the death of his Corsican bride Tracy.

“Where is Ernest Stravo Blofeld?” Bond asked Marie coolly, as if he was asking where the post office is. The topless woman was just choking, her eyes now pleading mercy and fearing death.

“Arrg…aaghh…” that’s all Marie could release through her throat.

“Speak up darling, I can’t hear you,” James teased her.

She tried her best to pronounce Blofeld’s location. James released the grip and she told him through her coughs, hands on her bruised neck. Already weakened, she received her reward by being roughly violated by James Bond above the tiles – at least she got her wish.

American West Coast, later that year
Failed to find the real Blofeld, James Bond’s path with him was still tangled. M ordered him to investigate anomaly on global diamond price, and his investigation brought him to Amsterdam where he found Tiffany St. John, a redhead American diamond smuggler being hunted by a pair of gay assassins working for Blofeld.

James Bond linked the diamond smuggling operation to Willard Whyte, a reclusive Vegas billionaire owning a casino where Bond was staying (and again encountering the murderous duo), and a research lab where the diamonds were being sent. Bond discovered that the real Whyte had been kidnapped and was replaced by Blofeld. Going to Whyte’s house on the hill, James Bond encountered the security…

“Well hi there,”

Bond smiled when he saw a brown female boot poking from a modern lounge chair. Wearing white shirt and tasteless (but maybe bit classy in 1971) pink tie, Bond didn’t expect any major danger. At least he didn’t encounter the spooky pairs again.

The woman stood up and did a cartwheel. She was wearing black two pieces that only showed a slit of flesh on her belly and red headband which covering her brown hair. “I’m Bambi,” she spread her fingers.

“Good morning…Bambi,” Bond was walking closer, feeling bemused.

“And I’m Thumper,” said a voice behind him. Bond turned around and saw a black woman in short hair and yellow bikini, leaning on a rock like a lioness. He was astonished seeing her sexy clothes and pose, and how that he didn’t detect her sooner. “Is there something we can do for you?” Thumper said seductively, the cold stone was hugging her dark hips and armpit.

“There are several things I can think of…but I’m looking for Willard Whyte,” Bond kept switching his views between the two women. Thumper was sitting on the rock and showing her shapely legs, looking at Bond. “Oh Willie…he’s right…out there…” pointing with her left hand while offering his right to Bond.

“And uh, that’s all to it?” Bond grabbed her hand and Thumper walked down majestically. “Not quite…first, we gonna have a ball,” she said, putting her hands on Bond’s shoulders. She looked at him and kneed his balls. Bond fell down and Thumper ran to the door. Standing there, she yelled “All yours, Bambi!”

Bond froze while nursing his balls, while Bambi repeated her cartwheel routine that ended with a jump kick to Bond’s chest. Bond crashed in front of Thumper’s feet. She laughed, picked him up and threw him in fury to Bambi, who caught him and threw him again, back first to the carpet.

Bond was trapped on the carpet zone like an unwilling gladiator threw to the hot sands of the arena. Still enchanted, he was just looking at Thumper cartwheeling behind the sofas. She commanded Bambi to do a jump. Bambi jumped toward Bond. He ducked but he wasn’t the target. Bambi reached a horizontal metal pole above him and sitting there. “Thumper,” she teased. Bond rose while Thumper was running and kicking him. Bond ducked and elbowed her back, sending her crashing to the sofa. Bond, however, couldn’t escape from Bambi’s kick from above. He fell butt first, crashing through a small glass table. While Bambi was grinning, Thumper rose and pushed him to Bambi’s legs.

Instead of kicking him right away, Thumper did several sexy gymnastic pose before Bond. Bond found it was hard, despite his big built and combat training, to unlock Bambi’s scissors. Thumper just stood before him, enjoying the view of his struggle. Finally she launched her kick to Bond’s midsection.

The two women were prowling in front of the losing British secret agent, enjoying their roles as dominant lionesses. They were launching double drop kicks that would press Bond between their feet and a steel column.

Bond leapt aside. Putting full force with their attempted kicks, both women just hurt themselves. Barefeet Thumper had it worse. Both girls were on the floor, moaning. Thumper was nursing her ankle while Bambi held her knee. Bond grabbed Bambi by the back of her neck and slammed her face to the nearest sofa, smothering her. Bambi flailed her arms, struggling for breath. Thumper’s yelp of pain as she was trying to stand up alerted Bond. He threw a pillow. Thumper ducked it but Bond slammed an uppercut to her belly – a kind of punch that could take down a regular SPECTRE guard instantly.

The black girl collapsed, holding her belly with both hands and coughed heavily. Bond returned to Bambi immediately as she was still collecting breath. Bond choked her like he chocked Marie and even meaner this time, he French kissed her to steal her breath. Bambi’s eyes were widening as Bond sucked all the breath of her wide opened mouth, as she was feeling the terror of asphyxia.

Bond raised her while still maintaining his grip on her neck, and then slammed her back to Thumper’s head. The two enemy agents were piling. Bond stomped his shoe on Bambi’s belly. She yelled while Thumper groaned beneath her. Bond pulled Bambi’s hair and slapped her face like the men used to do in the old days. Then he ended his payback to Bambi (for that time) with a headbutt. Bambi fell down in great pain, holding her bleeding nose and started to cry. Thumper couldn’t complete her attempt to rise as Bond jumped and sat on her belly.

“I must say I begin to enjoy this ballroom dancing,” Bond smashed her fists to Thumper’s face and breasts. The black woman was helpless as her yellow bra was taken off. Bond twisted her dark nipples, driving her to new heights of pain. After a minute and half, Bond released them. Thumper’s tears were flowing as she was nursing her tits. Bond stood up and walked casually.

“Now pay attention…as I’m doing a thing I’d like to do to you…” Bond grabbed Thumper’s ankles and spreading them wide. Thumper’s eyes widened as she knew immediately Bond wanted a payback for her nutcracker ballet. “No! NO… OH GOD PLEASE NOOO!!!” She wailed, immediately covering her womanhood with both hands.

Bond just smiled and slammed the heel of his leather shoe to Thumper’s pussy past her hands. It was a miracle that none of glass in the lavish living room cracked by her high pitch of primal scream. “You son of a bitch!!” Bambi rose in anger, running despite her bleeding nose. Bond released Thumper, which immediately adapted fetal position and crying. He flipped Bambi with a judo throw and twisted her arm as she fell down chest first. “No love, I might be a father to a bitch, but I wouldn’t know.”

Bond tore Bambi’s top and dragged her through the carpet. The rough surface became a torture device for her pinky nipples. At the edge of the carpet, Bond removed her headwear and unbounded her hair. “Friends do feel for each other, don’t they?” He kneed Bambi’s crotch and let her fell. Bond dragged Thumper by her wrist and used the other hand to drag Bambi. Both women’s intimate organs were too damaged for them to resist. Bond dragged them outside the room and threw them to the swimming pool below.

Both girls were helpless in the water. Bond leapt and pushed their heads, kept them underwater. In the nick of time, Felix Leiter and his CIA team entered the house. “Hello Felix!” he greeted the American. Looking in dismay, Felix complained “Would you know it…Willard Whyte is about to be executed…and guess who’s giving breaststroke lesson! Where is Whyte?”

Bond pulled the destroyed women up and immediately pushed them under again. “Haven’t found out yet,” he answered. He repeated the water torture. “Still haven’t found yet…”. Bond released Thumper and she fell down like a rock to the pool’s floor. Bond kept Bambi for few seconds and lifted her. He pushed Bambi toward the pool’s edge, and then dived to pick up Thumper. The men were surprised to see both women bruised, bleeding, and topless. Two agents dragged Bambi away from the pool while Bond carried Thumper and gave her a mouth to mouth CPR. She coughed, opened her eyes, and felt helpless to see the face of her conqueror.

“I apologize I didn’t really catch what you said…I must have been love struck…so could you please say again where is Willard Whyte?” That time Bond got the answer he was looking for.