0 comments/ 5894 views/ 5 favorites Lesbionage By: Smokey125 Thanks to all the wonderful Readers who have supported me and my fictional friends over these fifty-plus projects (the first fifty numbered Smokey Sagas and additional stuff in between). After writing and posting all these, I decided to write an "anthology" of sorts, commemorating the first fifty stories, but for a number of reasons, I've decided against publishing it on the site. In lieu, I intend simply to continue getting on with the new stuff, so here you are, and do please enjoy. *** Smokey Saga #51: "Lesbionage" Yes, this is indeed just what it sounds like from the portmanteau title—not straight-gay conversion of any sort, just plain good ol' girl-spy war. Not to be confused with the Peach/Red Dragon porn film of the same name. This story contains two main sex scenes, though quite a bit of (violent) action occurs before we reach the second one. But it's definitely there, and it's definitely intense. *** The Mission Thursday, May 21th, 2015, 3:52 p.m. Chief Darla Boyd picked up her private phone and dialed a single digit. "Lacroix? Get in here, please." 28-year-old Sadey Ava Lacroix—born and raised Brooke Johnson from St. Paul—rushed to her secret agency office I.N.T.E.L.I. (the Internal Network of Tactical and Elite Logistics Intelligence), entered her passcodes, gained access, and reported to her boss. Miss Boyd faced away. Sadey/Brooke strode through the office to Darla's desk and perched in the seat across from her. Hearing her sink into the cushy leather, Darla slowly spun 180° in her own chair. "You have a new assignment." Sadey immediately cleared away a generous share of memory space. She leaned forward, folding her arms on the desk, focusing undivided attention. Boyd lowered her voice, glaring at her with cold, steely calculating eyes. "Mission critical, Lacroix. The organization is in danger. I have summoned you because you are my finest agent. We've learned that a number of operatives belonging to V.I.P.E.R. have been recruited as nuclear specialists, under the guise of dummy agents." Sadey's brows rose as her eyes widened. Vicious archenemy organization V.I.P.E.R.—a.k.a. the Vital Investigations Personnel of Espionage and Reconnaissance—was I.N.T.E.L.I.'s most mortal adversary. V.I.P.E.R. had been gunning for them from the beginning, but both agencies knew that the opposition was tougher and sharper than spikes. It would take one hell of a cunning scheme on either part to infiltrate the other with the goal of neutralization. And V.I.P.E.R. had concocted just such a scheme. Fortunately for I.N.T.E.L.I., the overseeing chiefs had a few tricks up their own sleeves, and tapped their way into V.I.P.E.R.'s top-secret network. This was an entirely new level that had been reached. A level of life-threatening jeopardy. Miss Darla Boyd went on. "To the extent of our power, we've pieced together an outline of the plot being hatched by the likes of V.I.P.E.R. Their nuclear experts have devised plans to build an extremely innovative...and powerful...laser-powered detonation device." "Oh my God," Sadey muttered. Boyd gave a nod. "You bet your fucking ass, oh my God," she repeated. "We're talking War Of The Worlds shit here, Lacroix. I'm sure I needn't explain the havoc a motherfucker like this can, and will wreak upon us." "You needn't," Sadey shook her head, now determined to carry out her assignment. "Tell me where I come into play." "In order for proper construction, V.I.P.E.R.'s nuclear experts have configured a supply of plutonium, at an isotope level so explosive, so life-threateningly dangerous, it has yet to be defined." Sadey's mouth descended open. "This is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity for our enemies, Lacroix," Boyd told her intensely. "The resources necessary to produce this unholy degree of radioactivity...are all but unobtainable. Such an instrument of Earth-shattering destruction would never have been built before...and it never will again. This is their one and only shot. If V.I.P.E.R. succeeds, the annihilation of I.N.T.E.L.I. is but small potatoes. Today it's us, tomorrow it's the free world as we know it." "Holy shit." "I.N.T.E.L.I. is not in the habit of mindless eradication of its fellow organizations, Lacroix. You know this. But in the case of lethally nuclear carnage, we must make an exception. Self-defense is justifiable action. On the contrary; if we succeed...V.I.P.E.R. will be taken out of commission—if only to prevent further threats of world domination. Once this is done, we place the plutonium in the capable hands of the federal government, to be properly disposed of. "But first, Lacroix..." Sadey could now see where this was headed. And she could see her assignment was clear as day. "...You are to locate V.I.P.E.R.'s secret headquarters...secure the plutonium, and herein abscond. Do you copy?" Sadey nodded. "Perfectly." Darla nodded back. "Then you've not a second to lose...after my final instruction to you." She slowly stood from her chair, placing her palms firmly on the surface of the desk. Sadey did the same. They leaned in together until the tips of their noses were barely an inch apart. "...I reiterate, Lacroix: the mission, is, critical. Imperative. We cannot fail. If you fuck this up... "...We will have to kill you." *** Hideout And Seek Thursday, May 21st, 2015, 4:38 p.m. From a childhood age, Brooke Ava Johnson—who kept her real middle name under her spy alias—fostered an effortless fascination in that which was secret and mysterious. Social obligations such as school bored her to tears, as she had to share the information she was taught with twenty or thirty other children. She'd have arranged for private tutoring if she thought she could learn elusive things to which others were not privy. Oh, how she thirsted for the excitement of concealed knowledge, for that which only she was privileged to learn. She wanted others' secrets, and she wanted her own. She wanted a life with suspense. She'd find it one day in her 20s, in the thrill ride of espionage. She'd been playing the perilous spy game for five years already, since the comparatively tender age of 23. Her folks had always urged her to follow her heart, but did not see this vocational path coming. They had not counted on a future of such unwieldy hazards for their sweet young daughter. But they also failed to anticipate the degree of sharpness and stealth to which Brooke honed her keen, fresh mind. She was smart, slick, and quick. She was cunning, sly, and sneaky. She possessed all the key ingredients to claw her way to the rank of master spy. Her zeal for excitement and danger drove her to succeed in missions, if only to ascend to a new plateau, to feel the rush of what lay lurking around the next corner. She was extraordinary in her dedication once she'd found the calling. And she may have been blessed with an incredibly agile mind, but she knew it wasn't enough to merely be a natural. It required work to get this good. Work which she was prepared to take on. Her speed, attention and ever-peeled eyes paid off. In five years, she had turned in a performance spanning territory normally covered by hardened, seasoned veterans. She'd coerced vital secrets from some of the toughest fiends and assassins to cross her path. Sometimes, though, her easily-come cunning didn't suffice alone; on rarer occasions, she had to be downright ruthless. She'd admit it: sometimes she had to do things she didn't want to. And all this wasn't to say she never landed in harm's way herself. She'd fallen into some all but deadly traps in her career. And she'd come nail-bitingly close to being eliminated, but one way or another, she'd always found some way out. She had to admit, however, to a fair deal of intimidation on this case, both because she'd never gone up against the forces of the notorious V.I.P. before, and because Darla had never threatened her with termination should she fail. She wasn't infallible. She'd made a few semi-serious slip-ups here and again, but the harshest reprimand she'd faced to date was a marginal (albeit firm) smack on the wrist. The opening step in her investigation was locating V.I.P.E.R.'s secret hideout. By this point in her career, such a recon stage was a piece of proverbial cake. It would be no small feat, taking some deep digging, and her time was limited. But stacked up next to her following instructions, this initial task was a walk at the beach and a day in the park. Her first stop after leaving headquarters was back to her own residence—to change into an inconspicuous outfit—accompanied by a fellow I.N.T.E.L.I. operative—as well as a personal good buddy—named Irene. The ops often escorted one another home for security and protection, in case an enemy spy happened to be following. They never knew. They could afford to trust no one outside of their own organization. They firmly, however, trusted each other. When a new recruit was taken into the agency, he or she was introduced to everyone, and informed that this was his or her new family. And for airtight reason: if any I.N.T.E.L.I. spies turned against the family, or stabbed them in the back, they were terminated. Permanently. As well as an ally and a friend, Irene was also something of a detective. And she had a fellow detective friend herself, who, as luck would have it, happened to know of a dark haunt down in Hemdale, regularly frequented by one of V.I.P.E.R.'s active ops. It was called the Black Claw, a gothic restaurant located on Kent Street. One well-placed phone call later for a rough dossier on the subject, Sadey was on her way down to Hemdale, her friend Irene due to report back to the agency. Hemdale was a rough, hostile part of town. It was still daytime as Sadey rolled along the noisy, bumpy Kent, heading westbound past brownstones, folks shouting, music-blaring cars and other downtown entities. Finally reaching the corner of Kent and Hemmings, there it was, looming heavy and dark at number 1221: the Black Claw. She got out and proceeded to head for the dank eatery, making the point to try to look just like any normal person going about her business. Fortunately, should a nasty, predatory thug or any of the sort mess with her, a severe lesson would be taught. She entered the smoky, dark interior, greeted by a striking facsimile of Bela Lugosi. "May I be of service, madame?" asked Lugosi, glaring into her eyes. Not allowing herself to be daunted by the atmosphere, Sadey bravely shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm looking for someone." Mentally consulting the dossier she'd committed to memory, Sadey commenced to circumnavigating. She easily blended into the murky background, shuffling along the dark shadows, passing candles, empty porcelain bowls, marble slabs, banquet tables adorned with skulls, scrolls, and other knickknacks she didn't care to identify. This element was strangely comfortable for Sadey, a master spy with a keen sense for spotting camouflaged anomalies. Luckily, her shifty behavior would not be considered suspicious at all, even had patrons been studying her movements. Her attention to detail ruled out most of the shady characters right away. Soft pipe organ music permeated the air. Clinking tableware and conversing voices filled whatever silence was left over. The sound of her footsteps failed to register. She skulked along her search, until— There she was. She spotted her. Undoubtable. It was Agent 183—as she, Irene and their detective friend now referred to her. Sizzlingly hot—albeit lethally so—flowing ginger hair, parted flawlessly atop her crest, swimming down her shoulders, impeccably framing the sculpted face of an empress of evil. Sadey knew the woman was a ravishing ginger from the detective's description, that she would know her when she saw her, but nonetheless remained stunned by her remarkable magnetism, almost even...dazzled. Almost... Stop, she strictly reminded herself. She is the enemy. Do not allow yourself to be drawn in by her beauty, even if it is...magnificent...you have a mission to carry out. Cast all impure thoughts from your mind this instant. Sadey knew her only as 183. The ginger's real name was Kat McCree. She sipped a martini between cigarette puffs, resulting in thick, plumy clouds billowing from her ruby lips. Sadey smirked as she decelerated pace. Hm. A martini. How cliché. Have you no originality? She averted her gaze to look for a vacant seat nearby, where she could keep an eye on her. The ginger suspected nothing...Sadey believed and hoped. She held her in sight as she waited, unfolded her napkin and idly played with it, trying her hand at some origami. Soon, a waitress approached to ask if she'd care for anything. Not very hungry, Sadey felt yet less suspect should she order something. So she requested a glass of iceless water. Twelve eventless minutes passed before Ginger 183 paid for her drink and rose. Alerting herself, Sadey tossed a few dollars on her own table, slipped out from her seat and gave pursuit, granting the obligatory head start. No one monitored her movements—certainly not Lugosi, who was taken with some business or other in the back. The advantage of windows wasn't provided, so she'd need to hustle through the door as not to lose sight. Once outside, she followed the sound of footsteps, which had abruptly increased in pace. Sadey picked up speed trotting behind. Perhaps Ginger 183 sensed she was being tailed, and was hurrying off for a quick escape. Sadey halted at the corner of the building when she heard the footsteps stop. She instinctively hid behind the corner as she heard a chirp!—Ginger remotely unlocking her car. Sadey ever so discreetly poked an eye around the corner to see the driver's side door of a silver Mercedes slam shut. The ignition started. Ginger floored the gas and rapidly pulled out. XY3-G41. She leapt back behind the building as the Mercedes accelerated, peeling around the corner onto Kent, heading east. Her tires squealed, leaving patches of burnt rubber. Sadey watched her speed away, stealing a glimpse at the rear plate for confirmation. The license tag was all she needed. Once the coast was clear, she dashed back to her own car. It was equipped with, among other things, a mapping device that operated like a GPS, but rather than giving directions, tracked license tags. She activated the map, entered the code, and a blinking red dot appeared, traveling further east down Kent, until turning left onto Holabird Highway. Sadey started her ignition and threw the gearshift into drive. Also now on the map blinked a blue dot, representing Sadey herself. Her tracker led her north to the outskirts of Hemdale, as it began to get dark. Another couple of minutes, and she was directed up into the Hect's development. She passed Randall's View Terrace, on the way to the next stretch of property, known as the Dixie Sands. This nest of luxury homes was certainly more welcoming and accommodating than Hemdale's sketchy milieu. Her map chimed as a message box appeared. TARGET PARKED: 21584 DIXIE SANDS, TWELVE PINES, it read. The red dot was now stationary, allowing Sadey to meet it. Bingo. Ginger had reached her destination. Sadey was right in figuring her friend 183 here was heading home. She wasn't sure until they pulled into the neighborhood, but she had a pretty strong feeling V.I.P.E.R. headquarters wasn't to be found in such an upscale housing block. Still, she couldn't be certain until she caught up. Sadey muted the tracking map and cut off the headlights as she came in close. Building 21584, Dixie Sands. Beneath a streetlight, sure enough, there again was the silver Mercedes. XY3-G41, she reread with a satisfied nod. Sadey shifted into reverse, backed up a few buildings, and slid into a generous open stretch of curb. And...park. Ka-chunk went the gearshift. Now, a few moments to think. Clearly, this was Ginger's residence. Even if V.I.P.E.R. foolishly tried to disguise their hideout as a luxury home, there would be far too much irregular secret activity going on for neighbors not to take notice. Eventually, someone would report something. So, Sadey still hadn't found the enemy headquarters. But she had the license tag now, and Ginger had to report back to the real V.I.P.E.R. office at some point. All Sadey could do now was wait. While she waited, there were a couple things she could do. She could tune up some music or talk radio. She could go into her knapsack for a snack or some water, or to read the next chapter in her spy novel. Hell, if she felt the inclination, she could even pull back up beside Ginger's house, re-park, take out her binoculars and see if she could catch the vixen in the middle of a shower. Just this idea in and of itself gave her the inklings of that funny feeling between the thighs. Sadey, stop that! her brain commanded. Enough! You're a spy, and no matter how fucking hot she is, she's your enemy! Entertaining curiosity about her with your damn hormones is gonna get us nowhere but dead. Got it?! Yeah, yeah, a'right, got it. She could just go back to her own home now. After all, she did have the license tag, and could continue tracking and following as much as necessary. But staying here staking out the place would give her an edge on time, whenever Ginger did again report to headquarters. And she needed just such an advantage. Given the option, she would rather sleep in her bed than her car, but she had chosen a demanding career, and these were conditions that sometimes applied. On the other hand...she closed her eyes with an impish smile. Hanging out in only her car made certain things more exciting. She booted her laptop and retrieved an external flash drive from another compartment of her knapsack. Connecting the drive, she waited for it to register, and opened the contents. Her private flash drive contained items she personally enjoyed in her leisure time. She navigated to a very specific folder, a folder dedicated exclusively to steamy images of her personal idol of both worship and lust, Mata Hari. Brooke-slash-Sadey was intensely enamored of her, practically since birth. Mata Hari had died seventy years before the girl was born, but regardless, had taught Brooke wonderful things as a child: how to be a spy...how to subdue an opponent through merciless seduction...how to make it through puberty...how to pleasure herself like a real woman, even as a mere teenager... Much as one part of Sadey wished Mata Hari had not left her world a century ago, her other side regularly faced the fact that if she ever had to go up against her, she wouldn't stand a chance. The Dutch siren would flash her that devastatingly evil leer, own her before she knew what happened, and have Sadey in a melted heap at her feet. And then...oh, the things such a sly temptress could do to her...when on her clock, Sadey Lacroix was a relentless, emotionless secret agent who stopped at nothing to effectively complete her assignments. But in personal, non-top secret pursuits of sweet carnal delights, Sadey reveled in sheer submission. Lesbionage She climbed into the backseat. In younger years, Sadey/Brooke had enjoyed some romantic dates and playful romps, having yet to this day to find her other half. But that was perfectly fine; she preferred the unattached life, leaving herself unhindered in her top-secret escapades. Espionage and ongoing romance did not mix. No one wanted to sit home alone waiting for her, frightened to death of what might happen at any given moment, and Sadey couldn't blame them. She certainly didn't want to put anyone through that. No, she was content between periods of duty to lie beneath the spell of Miss Hari, jilling herself crazy to her. Her laptop boasted an application feature that played images on her screen as a slide show, so she needn't take her hands off her body. She could simply set the program to begin, molest herself to her heart's content, and rub that swelling pussy raw. If the prospect wasn't already exhilarating in and of itself, Sadey reminded herself that she was in her car—sheltered, yes, but more vulnerable under scrutiny of outdoor eyes (and ears). Anything could happen. Any neighbor could step out the door at any second for any reason. Even what with it being evening, she could be caught at all turns. And while actually being caught would not play in her favor, the hypothetical scenario lit her on fire inside. Just as in the nature of her job, she gelled splendidly with danger. And so began the exquisite show. As so many times before, Sadey gazed into the enchanting vision pixelated across her monitor. She knew it was only an electronically generated computer image, but the fact that it was a photograph, directly taken of the real Mata Hari from a hundred years ago, kept her engaged. In the strictest terms, it wasn't really her, but in a looser sense, it was. The pictures flashed before her fixated eyes, one by one by one. Naughty poses, exotic dances, defiant eyes, captivating expressions. Sadey felt her body react under her clothes. It tightened, heated, and her bits began to twitch. She extended her auto-massage deeper under, from the flesh which was fair game, towards the territory only she was allowed to mark. She found it unnecessary to undress, as her hands could perform to task equally well inside clothing or without it. She imagined hearing Mata Hari speak to her, according to her own fantasies of domination. Fuck your hand. You are mine. You will obey. I command you...to rape yourself. Sadey instantly moistened, feeling the involuntary stiffness in her nipples and clit. She refocused her blurry vision on the current image of the seductive goddess. The picture smiled at her, subtle and suggestive, just daring Sadey to defy her. Mata Hari seemed to take pleasure and satisfaction in scorning her this way, such merciless, agonizing teasing. The silent taunts deliciously tormented Sadey. She hated being teased, and she loved it. Her hot skin perspired under her clothes. It was unbearable, and irresistible. Another image. Overwhelming lust. You will submit to me. You will remain my submissive. You will follow my orders, it told her. Sadey smirked to dial in the ecstasy of succumbing to Mata Hari's power and control. The truth was, in a non-sexual setup, Sadey/Brooke had always loathed being told what to do by an authority figure, without a say in the matter. She hated being forced to obey condescending commands, just as she hated being teased in any way. Her assignments from Miss Darla Boyd were different. These were part of her job, and Darla supplied them without patronizing her. As a young girl named Brooke, she conversely deplored being scolded by her parents, or embarrassed in school by an audacious teacher. But this was something else again. This was and would remain always pure fantasy. And so Sadey took the fact that she hated being pushed around in a controlling manner like this, and used it against herself. It was by now a staple of her masturbatory activity. The idea revved her like the hottest of fetishes, and perhaps things would be different one day in the future, but right now, her exotic courtesan was the only person she dreamed of sexually. She whimper-moaned, parting her legs further and sprawling out across the seat, feeling herself up under her outfit—imagining the groping feminine hands were not her own, and that she was to be restrained, harassed and punished against her will. Fantastic passion raged, engulfing her like wildfire, as she struggled to maintain a firm hold. To enhance plausibility, she pretended she was lying face down over Mata Hari's own statuesque body, her idol's arms reaching around her from behind, to fondle and grab. With what bordered on a wealth of experience making love to herself, her finesse in doing so rivaled that of her own profession. She flipped up her bra cups, her eager 36Cs free to jiggle out like gelatin. Right hand firmly occupied south of the border, she palmed each breast with her left, alternating level of force, satisfying the demands each new moment threw at her. She adored her beautiful tits. Which was to take nothing away from the wonder of others' beautiful tits, but these were the set with which she was blessed. Her gratitude was immeasurable. She loved them so much, she almost hated having to routinely encase them in these wired brassiere shackles. In fact, were it up to her, she'd let them out each day to greet the world. Her honeypot was a lovely marvel itself, but Sadey was content to keep that little gal in her pants. And in her own pants she was, writhing over the upholstered interior, simmering with unbridled lust. Should anyone chance to stroll by just now, Sadey would have quite the challenge either hiding or explaining her behavior. Passersby were however the last thing on her mind. She went on jilling and drilling herself, timing the rhythmic clenches of her cunt with the thrusts of her dexterous digits. She barely even need hold focus on the laptop monitor anymore—a good thing, as her eyes were rolling back in her head. The moans became shouts. Sadey arched her back, plunging herself like tomorrow wouldn't come. Her fingers coated themselves in secreting pussy juice as sweat broke out over her hide, pasting her skin to her clothes and hair. She swam in delectable inner spy fantasies, of being captured and castigated by her idol and heroine, the great Mata Hari. She was the one and only woman on Sadey's mind. And she was driving her steadily, rapidly, intensely towards a monster orgasm. "OhhhhhhhFUCK," Sadey remarked, clenching so hard down on her fingers her cunt ached with pleasure. She desperately pinched and grabbed at herself, stamping and digging her left foot into the floor of the backseat. She couldn't stand it, and she couldn't get enough. She cringed and winced, no longer in control of her movements or motor skills. Luckily, her pussy knew what it was doing. The short-term countdown began. Building surges assaulted her, exploding through every cell. She whapped her head against the back of the seat, any resulting pain nullified and overshadowed by supreme, divine passion. Her swollen cunt had blushed crimson red in her pants. Her clit and heart bulged and throbbed against her. Desirous sizzle blazed over and through. Oh, that body...that face...that smirk...that raw, sheer magnetism...everything about her...here it came. She was about to blow through the portal and over the edge. Yes! YES! PLEASE! YES!! PLEASE!! Finally, she came: gloriously...magnificently...stupendously. She wet her pants with violent, frothy cum, propelling through her blood-swollen, engorged pussy lips, all over her fingers and panties. She shrieked, untamed screams of wild, epic proportions, rivaling any other. It ran the course of one of her most maddening orgasms—if not the most—she'd experienced to date. Every time Sadey had an orgasm, big or small, there arrived a moment when she took a step outside of herself and asked if this was really happening. This momentous evening was no exception. She supposed it just always felt too incredible to be real. Jilling off was an astonishing thing to be able to do with her body—as often as she wanted, whenever she wanted, and, within reason, wherever she wanted. She hadn't forgotten about her extremely crucial mission, but in order to begin she had to find the V.I.P.E.R. hideout. And to accomplish this, she still needed to wait for her ginger-locked foe to make her next move. And in the meantime, she knew how to keep herself busy. She couldn't have pent-up sexual tension and frustration clogging her mind and body, taking concentration away from her vital assignments. She had to get that aggression out. True, this exhausting workout did drain her of energy and make her sleepy, but as she sat up, still no activity emanated from 21584. It was almost ten. Sadey suspected that before doing anything else, she should pull back up beside Ginger's house to see if she detected any goings-on inside. But as she waited in afterglow just for stamina to replenish, such an ambitious project showed itself to be far easier thought than said, let alone done. She was fading. Fast. But she knew as long as she had Ginger's license tag, she...she... Yawwwwwwwwn... ...Yeah, that's not happening...not right this second...we're gonna have to...to, uh... *** Chasing Down The Dawn Friday, May 22nd, 2015, 5:19 a.m. Sadey Lacroix was jolted to consciousness by a sound she knew well: the rev of a car ignition. She stirred, blinking her eyes open. Hints of sunlight were just barely appearing over the horizon. She had no idea what time it was, nor could she discern much else her surroundings offered, but one thing she could determine was the departure of a silver Mercedes pulling out from its spot a few cars in front of her. Gasp. She pawed her eyes and gave her cheeks a smack to make sure she was not dreaming. Once she'd adequately assessed this, she scrambled into her front seat, turned over her own engine, fumbled into her knapsack until she successfully retrieved the Red Bull she'd packed, popped it open, took a healthy-sized swig, and reactivated the tracking map. However, the map's disadvantage was the lack of memory in its data. Which meant requiring her to reenter the license tag. "...Oh...oh, damn. Oh, damn!" she uttered. "What was it again? What...wh—..." She tried to think. "Shit! Why the hell didn't I write it down?!" She'd think as often as she used this device, she might remember to scribble down a license tag separately once in a while. However, she didn't often have to consult the map overnight on one suspect. She shut her eyes tight and focused. She had it yesterday...what was it... ...X... ...X-Y... ...Then a digit...3?... Luckily, her memory worked pretty well even when groggy. She punched in each component as she recalled. X...Y...3...G...4... ...1? she thought hopefully. The screen leapt to life, and sure enough, there again blinked the red dot along, en route out of Hect's. "Yes!" Sadey threw her car into gear and peeled on out from her own spot. As predicted, starting this leg of her journey, Ginger now had only a small lead on her, and—according everything was going to plan—didn't know she was being followed. Her tracker took her further east coming out of the luxury property, close to eleven miles before she found herself in a much more sparse, industrial area on the edge of town. The road narrowed as the pavement grew bumpier. She was greeted in this region by mills, factories, labs and plants, encompassed by protective fences. She slowed down for the sake of safety to glance back and forth between the road and her map. Just a moment later, her message box appeared again. TARGET PARKED: LOCATION UNKNOWN The message stayed up just long enough to register. Her heart sped. She was almost there. This was intimidating, but exciting. She'd tailed a few enemy operatives to their secret locations in the past, and the first part was always the most nerve-wracking. It brought about the wicked mad rush of enthusiasm she always got discovering something new and secret to which no one else was privy. And she loved a good challenge—fortunate, as infiltrating enemy headquarters sure as hell supplied one. Sadey paid extra careful attention to her coordinates. It was painfully obvious she couldn't just waltz right on up and strut her way inside to find the plutonium, and she also knew she'd better park well out of sight. One hand on the wheel, she grabbed her car radio with the other. "Come in-T.E.L.I.," she began. "This is Sierra Alpha Lima. Do you read me? Over." Buzz. A moment later, her reply crackled through. "Delta Foxtrot Bravo here. I read you, Sierra. Go ahead. Over." Buzz. "Delta? The eagle has landed. Arrival is imminent. I repeat: the eagle, has, landed. Over." Buzz. "Outstanding work, Sierra. We'll begin tracking you from here. Backup on its way once we find you. Over." Buzz. "10-4." Sadey lowered her voice and slowed the car as her destination jumped into view. Just as with recognizing Ginger on sight, she knew this was the place—both on instinct, and with the help of her track map. She pulled off the pavement, reversed, flipped a three-pointer, and slipped her car backwards in between some forestry on her reverse side, for the quickest possible getaway. Once parked, she turned off the car, deactivated the map, climbed in the backseat and changed into her army camouflage uniform. She tied back and flipped up her hair under her cap. Finally, she slipped on her gadget belt and exited, binoculars in hand. Out of the car, she crept nearer the building while blending in with the foliage, continuously evaluating the situation at the building entrance. When she spotted someone coming, she tucked into a ball to hide in the shrubbery until the coast cleared. This wasn't easy in broad daylight, but she couldn't afford to whittle away another entire day. At last, she slunk up close enough to make a dash for the entrance at the perfect moment. It was a gamble; she couldn't anticipate when the next operative might be coming out. But these were the chances she routinely took in the spy game. Oh-oh...another V.I.P.E.R. op. Sadey crouched and readied her binocs. *** Spy Like An Eagle Friday, May 22nd, 2015, 7:37 a.m. "Five...seven...five...five...one...zero..." Reading the entered passcode, Sadey quickly committed it to memory, silently repeating it, looking back and forth. It was clear. She couldn't tell how clear for how long, but she who hesitated was soon eliminated. She kept her head down and made the dash. She made it to the door unspotted, entered the same passcode, and gained access. Making certain her taser and all other tactical necessaries were at the ready, she sidled herself inside the building and let the door quietly shut behind. She took an initial gander around. She could detect both some similarities to her own secret agency, and some differences as well. Given the early morning hour, she was surprised how dark it was inside, but proceeded to remind herself that just like in the Black Claw, she saw no windows anywhere. Focusing on the pros, she mentally noted how the darkness would play in her favor, making it easier to hide. The soles of her boots scuffed audibly along the stone floor. Sadey suspected most of the operatives who were here this morning were working in their offices. Putting herself in their place, if she heard slow, stealthy-sounding footsteps outside her door, she would be suspicious. So she picked up her pace a bit, but remained cautious and silent just the same. She caught the movement of a shadow from the corner of the eye as something whisked behind her. She magnetized her back to the wall and grabbed the taser. Silence. Sadey looked left to right, holding her breath. She saw nil. It wasn't entirely uncommon to undergo spells of paranoia while under the pressure of carrying out her job, but she was growing keener all the time to what was real and what was power of persuasion. On the surface, she was mistaken this time, but it was impossible to know for sure in an enemy element. She continued. Just as she had done in the restaurant, she slipped among the dinginess and the shadows, eyes peeled for any sign of danger. Each door from wall to wall bore a keypad for passcodes. She wouldn't be able to accumulate any more passcodes while inside, but she did know a hack to get past them. And she used this hack once she reached a distinctive door, a door with a sign she hadn't seen yet. TOP SECRET AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY KEEP OUT Aha, she thought. She had to be prepared for whatever might be on the other side. She slipped on her gloves, placed her laser pointer between her lips, keeping it activated with her teeth, and pointing it at the security sensor on the side of the keypad. She turned the knob with one hand as she punched a distinct, precise thirteen-character code into the pad with the other. This code acted as a skeleton key to break locks made and installed by this manufacturer. The combination hack compromised the keypad lock's integrity, granting her split-second access. The door clicked. She pulled the knob just enough to hold it a crack ajar. The door would shut and lock again automatically if she let go, so she removed her laser pointer and then grabbed the taser with her other hand. She pulled the door a little ways open, poking one eyeball through. She saw an empty room. She let herself in. Closing as soundlessly as she could, she surveyed her new surroundings. The locale was curiously sparse. For such a large "top secret" room, there was not a lot going on here to meet the naked eye. It looked more like a multipurpose room. Two series of wooden desks lined the floor, some occupied by knickknacks, some not. These were not the sort of odds and ends that would help her. Though quite plausible, it remained difficult for Sadey to believe the sign on the door was a trap, or a red herring for enemy spies. Until further notice, her gut told her to presume that the secret—or a clue to it—lay somewhere in these four walls. Then something strange caught her eye. A framed painting of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg hung halfway along the back wall, six feet off the floor. Sadey scoffed. Really? she thought. Safe in the wall behind a picture frame? What amateurs! I'm about to make you very, very proud of me, Mata Hari. She really hadn't expected things to be this simple. Which meant they probably weren't. So she kept her guard up, carefully holding watch back and forth, as she approached the painting. When she reached it, she took hold with her gloved paws, and gently tugged on either side. Strangely, nothing happened. She tugged on the bottom. Nada. The top. Nope. ...Hm. Perhaps they weren't such amateurs after all. All right, V.I.P.E.R., well done; round one to you. The search continues. Sadey started away. ...Wait a minute. Was...that... She turned back, darting her own eyes back and forth between the painting's. Lesbionage ...Movement?? The next thing her wary gaze registered sent a shock wave through her. The painting's eyes... ...Blinked. Sadey gasped. HOLY SHIT. They were watching her. She had been found out. "Fuck me!" It was a trap! She whirled on her heel and booked for the door. But not before she heard the intruder alarm. A pack of V.I.P.E.R. henchwomen burst inside to confront her. Sadey reflexively reversed course, though she knew there was nowhere to go. The only entrance and exit to the room was through the very same door she'd hacked open, and through which her pursuers had now barged to get at her. Sadey was astute enough to perceive that at least one of them would be guarding the door while the others attempted to subdue her. But she wasn't going down without a fight. She still had her taser, and she hadn't attained this rank in her career by giving up easy. Three V.I.P.E.R.s came at her simultaneously, from different directions. She couldn't stun them all, so she somersaulted in a safe direction, jumping to her feet as she retrieved her taser from its holster. She spun 180° and fired, putting one enemy agent out of commission as the other two continued to give chase. Her taser would need some time to recharge now that it had sent off a hot blast, so she fell back on her martial arts training. She leapt out of the path of her enemies' own first taser shot, and delivered her other opponent a sharp kick to the gut, forcing her too back for the moment. The attacker still in pursuit swung. Sadey dodged the punch, ducked into a squat and deftly swept her legs from under her. She went down. Sadey didn't know how many V.I.P.E.R.s had hurried in to ensnare her, or for how much longer she could fight them off. While she had a moment to regroup, she whirled back in the direction of the door to see one more coming at her fast. Sadey sensed another tase coming. She minimally impressed her opponents by cartwheeling out of the line of fire, buying herself a bit more time as this stun gun as well took its time to recharge. She was doing well considering what she had to work with, but was pretty certain she was delaying the inevitable. Her chances of escape were slim, but existent. These five V.I.P.E.R. operatives couldn't be the entire office population this morning, and if the rest weren't yet aware of her presence, it was only a matter of time till they would be. She was lucky this was a large room. The op she'd tased slowly began to recover, as the two she'd put on the floor with her feet got back to theirs. Again, she was being ganged upon by three. She was losing energy. But she still had a few tricks. One of her attackers yanked out her taser, which hadn't yet been used. Sadey snatched her arm before she could aim, redirected her shot, and caused her to shoot one of her allies. While the offending op paused to register what she'd done, Sadey took further advantage, holding on to her arm and winging her with centrifugal force, smack into her other ally. The force of the blow sent both to the floor. Finally, the fifth V.I.P.E.R. joined the fray, realizing just how tough this adversary was. Sadey drained most of what was left of her stamina, leaping at her with an airborne kick to the chest, pushing her back several steps. Her only hope now was a mad dash for the door while it was unguarded. Her taser had been recharging, so she went for it once more, to nail the same op remaining in her path. However, of the five V.I.P.E.R. agents who had rushed her, only two had taken a zap with their tasers. And almost all of them were back on their feet. Before Sadey knew what was happening, she was nabbed by the arms, which she felt pulled forcibly behind her back. She began to beg for mercy, though she knew it was pitifully useless. "No...no! NO! PLEA—" The next sound she heard was bloodchillingly familiar. Everything went black. *** The Eagle Has Fallen Friday, May 22nd, 2015, 10:48 a.m. Sadey Lacroix revived to find her already bleary vision blocked by a blindfold wrapped tight over her eyes. She went to move her limbs, only to realize she was also now immobilized, to what she had to guess was one of the room's long wooden desks. She was correct in this assessment, but had yet to grasp the half of it. She was naked, from head to foot. Her clothing had been removed and piled separately. Her hair remained ponytailed behind her head. Her body was stretched forwards over the desk, legs spread, bare feet flat on the floor, tied to either wooden leg. Her arms were stretched in front of her, hands bound at the wrists. The twine tying her was pulled slacklessly over the opposite edge, split at the fibers, threaded underneath and brought back to her body, where its now dual ends bound her ankles to the desk legs. "What th—...what the fuck!" she exclaimed. She obligatorily tried to wrench herself loose, but the rough twine only dug into her skin, refusing her the least motion attempted. The original five who'd cornered her in the room had departed, placing Sadey in the hands of two fellow agents who had arrived to take over. One of these two was their superior, V.I.P.E.R. chief Linda Princeton. The other was Agent Ginger 183, o.k.a. Miss Kat McCree herself. They watched with evil satisfaction as the nude Sadey tugged and jerked against the twine. They'd searched her apparel just on the off chance that she'd have been foolish enough to carry identification on her. She hadn't. Though it would have made things easier on them, technically, it would also have taken the fun out of what was to happen now. The most delicious part: the interrogation. Sadey heard footsteps inching on her. A chill played her spine. She heard chuckling. Sadistic chuckling. The next that rode down her vertebrae was a single fingertip. She gasped. "Well, well, well..." she heard one voice say. It was Ginger Kat's. Had Sadey privilege to see what was going on, she would have realized that this was none other than her stunning Black Claw acquaintance, the very same. "...And just whom do we have here, hmmm?" Sadey did not allow herself to be cowed. She ceased struggling long enough to tell them the following. "I suppose this is all intended to frighten me. Well, let me tell you something. You're never gonna get away with this. My organization and I know what you're up to, and they know where I am. And once the authorities find out about this, you're toast." Kat and Linda weren't unsettled in the slightest. "Is that so?" questioned Linda, joining Kat beside Sadey's bent-over body. "And just what organization of yours might this be, my dear?" "Ha!!" Sadey shouted. "Wouldn't you like to know." "As a matter of fact, we would," Kat replied. "So then, sweet cheeks..." Sadey cringed as she felt a hand palm her left ass cheek, giving it an impish goose. She wriggled it off. Her captors chortled. The voice went on. "...We can do this one of two ways." "That's right," Linda resumed. "And I'm sure we needn't explain them to you, but, y'know what? I'm going to anyway, just for fun." Sadey went on fighting for mobility. Linda slowed her speech to a condescending, patronizing tone, as if speaking to a guilty child. "Option one: you can be a good girl...cooperate with us...tell the nice ladies who you're working for...the nice ladies take care of a little business from there..." She shrugged thoughtfully. "...Maybe they let you go, maybe they don't...but whatever happens, you have the satisfaction of knowing that you've decided to come clean with us. Whaddaya say, little one?" Being treated like a child made Sadey's blood boil. She growled at them. "Go to hell." "'Go to hell'?" Kat innocently repeated, turning to Linda. "Why, that's not very nice. Perhaps she doesn't wanna hear her choices." "Well, that's too bad for her. It doesn't matter what she wants; she's gonna hear them anyway. "Option two, Little Miss Intruder: you can choose to keep the information to yourself...not cooperate with us...and the nice ladies subject you to a series of interesting little treatments...designed to help you feel more agreeable. Make sense?" Sadey scoffed at them. "Do whatever you want," she challenged. "I'm not talking." Kat brought her hands together in a gleeful clasp. "Oh, how I was hoping you'd say that!" she grinned. "Shall we confer, boss?" "Oh, I think we run the entire gauntlet on her, nothing less," Linda opined. "Because quite frankly, my little plaything, I don't buy your claim that anyone's coming to rescue you. Not for a second. And so as far as I can see, we've got all the time in the world." Sadey swallowed what she hoped was a silent gulp. "So the only question then is..." Linda asked Kat, "...Where to begin?" "Well, you know me," Kat smiled. "I'm playful. I'm quite fond of the, eh...feather, myself..." Sadey snorted. "I am not ticklish," she lied, praying they wouldn't call her bluff. "Mmm, we'll be the judges of that," she heard the other voice say. Shit. "Orrrrr..." Sadey's ears perked up. If they were thinking of a torment worse than tickling, she could be in some trouble. Could be. She'd been tortured for vital information in the past, and no one had yet succeeded in breaking her. Deep inside, regardless, she was terrified of the day an enemy exposed and preyed upon her Achilles' heels. But there was no way she was about to let them sense that. Linda took Kat a few steps aside and whispered in her ear. "OOOOooohhhh..." Kat cooed in revelation. "...I could see that. And then?" More inaudible whispering. Sadey heard Ginger/Kat go on giggling with excitement. "Well, you see, that's why you're the boss," Kat remarked, bowing before her. "And don't you forget it," smirked Linda. "Now you go fetch the materials. I'll keep our little friend here company." Kat did as she was ordered, trotting along. Linda stayed, examining Sadey from numerous angles. Sadey felt her toy with her hair. "Mmm...quite a shapely, nice young thing, aren't we," said Linda, smoothing the backs of her fingers over Sadey's shoulder blade. Sadey squirmed in embarrassed discomfort, wordlessly snarling at her. "Oooh, and feisty, too. I can see we'll be needing to do something about this. Fortunately..." Linda again chuckled malevolently, poking her under the arms. "...We've got just the thing." Kat returned shortly. Sadey remained unshakable on the outside, but on the inside, she was petrified. She didn't know if or when anyone from I.N.T.E.L.I. might be coming to rescue her, or if they could even make their way in. She'd been amazingly lucky only to get this far. But her luck seemed to have run out. What were they about to do? "AHHHhhh, here we are..." she heard one of their voices announce. "Good girl!" "But one of the many reasons you keep me around," the other rejoined. "So then!" Sadey again heard the voice of the woman who seemed to be the superior. They reapproached. "Before the torture gets underway, my little sex kitten...I'm gonna give you one more chance to spill it." She took Sadey's chin in her hand and turned her to face them. "Who are you...and who are you working for?" Sadey drew forth a glob of saliva and spit on her. "Fuck you cunts." Ominously calm, Linda retracted her wet hand. Her voice lowered and intensified with hostility. "Very well..." Kat pulled the aforementioned feather from her bag of tricks. "Indeed, have it your way," she concurred. "In that case, we're gonna start out nice and easy, just get'cha warmed up..." She mischievously brandished the plume at her, even though Sadey couldn't see it. "...With a little teasing." Sadey's eyebrows rose in alarm. She didn't think she liked the sound of this... Kat sauntered behind her ass. She refrained from any contact except for the twitch of the feather, which was felt a moment later. Sadey gasped once more. A horrific chill invaded her as the feather's blade found its way to her slit, twirling and swirling between her quivering labia. It tingled, and irritated. It both amused and annoyed her. She shut her eyes tight under the blindfold and grimaced, trying to shake off the prickly sensation. To her frustration, the evil feather clung to her and would not be abated. Linda brushed a few strands of hair from Sadey's face, studying her expression. "Why, whatever's the matter, little friend?" she queried, pouring on the sadism. "Why're you wincing like that? I thought you said you weren't ticklish." "Yes, you know, I seem to remember her making that claim myself," Kat agreed, spinning the feather between her fingers as she slid its softer and sharper sides alternatingly over Sadey's cunt. "What's up with that?" she wanted to know. Oh, they were enjoying this. Sadey clenched her hands into trembling, aggravated fists, dug her toes into the floor, and burrowed her face in her arms. More growling emanated from her elbows. Linda pretended to notice her curvaceous breasts for the first time. "Oh, my, and what are these then?" she grinned, feeling her up. She groped her mounds and tweaked her nipples, relishing so maliciously messing with her. "What've we got going on here? What's this all about, huh?" Sadey was hating this, these enemy ladies' unique ability to trigger her reflexes so effectively, but she tried to take a minute to regroup. If she could just find the strength to ignore the torment for a moment, she was certain she could maintain mind over matter, and could hold out until I.N.T.E.L.I. broke in to save her...unless perhaps they upped the ante...but she was having trouble mustering this much will and concentration. Especially as Kat culled apart her pussy lips to get her on the inside...and Linda reached under her tits, and dug in her nails, extending the vicious tickling treatment to both genital regions. "GrrrrrraaaaaaAAAAAAAHHHHH!!" Sadey exploded, whipping up her head. "ALLRIGHTBITCHES!!" she conceded. "All right, I admit it! I'm ticklish!! Okay??! I'm fucking ticklish! FINE! I lied! All right?! Is that what you wanna hear?!" The V.I.P.E.R.s laughed at her, impressed she could get out all these cohesive words through the torture. "Ahhh, I never get tired of being right," Linda snickered to her crony. "Now then, I think that's enough child's play." "Awww," Kat pouted. "But I was starting to really enjoy fucking this little pussy's pussy with my feather." "Yes, well, don't worry," Linda turned back to the bag Kat had brought. "Open her up wider, and you can leave it in there. That oughta be fun for her while we pull out the big guns. I think we might also have something for her asshole while we're at it..." Sadey's sphincter immediately tightened. She despised anything near her ass. But she'd no intent of giving them this satisfaction. Ginger Kat spread her pussy further ajar as Linda'd instructed, inserting the feather as far as could reach, only the stem sticking out. "There you are!" she cheerfully declared. "Now you can tickle yourself! That should be entertaining!" Linda paused to raise a single finger. "Uh, I hasten to remind you, however, buddy-girl...anytime you may like to work with us, tell us who you are and who you're working for, it's alllll over. Just something to think about. But hey, you wanna draw this out? That's just more fun for us! We're having a ball here! You're only making it harder on yourself, peaches." "You're never gettin' it outta me," Sadey insisted. "Do your worst." Sadey knew they were right, but she just couldn't give up the information. She just couldn't. Darla had made it crystal-clear that her life literally depended on this mission, and fessing up to them equaled an automatic concession. It simply wasn't an option. She would have to find a way of tolerating their shenanigans. She felt a fingertip stroke from her hip down the side of her rump. She jerked away, and felt the infernal feather vex her pussy from the inside. Her eyes jumped open underneath her blindfold. This was a new one on her. She wasn't exactly a virgin, but she'd never had anything with such a fluffy, tickly consistency cinched inside her cunt (or asshole) before. She didn't think she liked this...but...she couldn't honestly be sure. It tingled overwhelmingly. This might be too much for her. If only she knew, however, what her two fiendish friends had in store for her now. Linda retrieved her next toy from the bag. A vibrator. A Hitachi vibrator. They'd secured Sadey with her backside close enough to the wall that they needed no extension cords; they simply plugged it in. They tried to hide the gleeful excitement from their inflections as they spoke to her. "Well, if you're quite certain, that's fine with us," Linda stated matter-of-factly. "Seconded," nodded Kat. "Whoever you are, I like your drive. And I'm very intrigued to see just how much you can take." This time Sadey knew they heard her gulp. She heard a low faint hum, as a surging rush of sexual passion hit her, generating from her clit, where Linda pressed and held the vibrator to her. They switched positions: Linda behind Sadey, Kat to her side. Sadey didn't want to complain, mind them, but she couldn't figure out what precisely was happening here. They were interrogating her, willing to get her to spill the proverbial beans, and this portion consisted, ostensibly, of...rewarding her, with intense pleasure? This made no sense, Sadey could only think, but the radiating, steadily building luststorm growing inside did not permit her to reason any further. She failed to discern her proper incentive to talk. And again, whatever the motive going on here, she wasn't about to question it. "Ohhhhhh fuck..." she groaned, not unlike the times she made love to herself, in her car or any other daring setting. Whatever this damn thing was, it was incredibly potent, gradually taking her over from head to soles, rocking her like a hurricane. Her body began to blaze, sweat breaking through her pores. More moans escaped, equally grateful whimpers joining. She yanked even harder on her bonds, just to have something to pull against, but of course, as she tugged with her wrists, this in turn tugged on her ankles. She tried to bend her knees and press down with more force, but they didn't seem keen on allowing her to do so. She heard the voice of Ginger whisper huskily in her ear. "How's that feeling?" Her hot breath and tantalizing words dizzied Sadey yet further. "You like it?...You little rat??" This struck Sadey as a rhetorical question, but calling her a rat got her attention, as did what happened next. The Hitachi left her. Sadey gasped in distress at the abrupt deprivation. She scrabbled the desktop, trying to contort her lower body in any manner such to allow her the pleasure back. "Oh no-o-o-o-o..." she cried. Kat and Linda shared a victorious laugh at her expense. "NOW then..." Kat went on, "...You little fucking titmouse..." She roughly gripped Sadey about the chin and cheeks, culling a squeal from her. She felt her lean in again, heard a spitting sound, and a small splatter of saliva smacked her in the nose, promptly punctuated by a harsh slap across her face. She cried out in both pain and humiliation. Kat threateningly delivered her order. Lesbionage "Talk." She understood. It wasn't hard to comprehend now whatsoever. They were forcing the ecstasy upon her, and then taking it back away when she began to really enjoy it. This was the method on to which they'd moved. Well, at least things made sense now, but...oh, was this ever devilish. Oh, how inexorably cruel. She certainly hadn't expected them to be nice to her, but nevertheless, they were operating on a grander scale than she could have imagined. They weren't messing around. They were getting right after her. Once more, Sadey attempted to collect and remind herself of the situation. She could not give in to her base animal desires in exchange for the exposure of her identity and organization. And she was perceptive enough to realize that even if she did confess, they still might not allow her full sexual release. She repeated to herself that it was not an option, until she could say it out loud. "I'll never talk," she breathed, trying to sound resilient though she was being drained of strength. "Never." The V.I.P.E.R.s traded contented smirks. "Suit yourself," she heard one of them coo. The Hitachi was switched up to its next setting. Sadey's pussy was already damp and pink from the initial vibing, her clit swelling into a full erection. The vibrator was never turned off after the first tease and denial, and so she wasn't quite ready for the second. "Never," she reiterated, almost through catching her breath. "You're gonna have to kiOOOOHHHHHHH...FUCKMEEEEE..." What Sadey didn't know was that Kat and Linda were more than just boss and employee. They were in fact unexclusive lovers on the sly. Logically, their relationship afforded some truly kinky sexual scenarios. And what was more, they lived for opportunities like this. Linda wasn't lying when she said they were having a ball. Upon the realization years ago of what an effective torture technique restrained tease-and-denial proved to be, they practiced back and forth on each other—and then on multiple unsuspecting ladies they captured—until they'd become expert at reading the signals of a woman's impending climax. And so most times when an enemy agent of the female persuasion paid a visit and became spotted, the two of them teamed together to ever so nicely "convince" her to play by their rules. And in the process, they wound up turning themselves on just as erotically as their victim. The difference was, of course, they'd no reason to deprive themselves of such superb pleasure. Sadey was no exception. And so it came as little surprise that as Linda ruthlessly vibed her, coercing out one desperate whine after another, she and Kat were increasingly fired up right along with her, their own pussies generating moisture as well. This, however, was the furthest thing from Sadey's mind. She perspired harder and more profusely, gasping and yelling for prolonged passion and release. Her clit had swollen to full hardness, no longer able to hide beneath its hood. It bulged against the almighty pulsation as her now soaked cunt dripped all over. The buildup steadily rose and rose...until, all of a sudden— "Oopsie!" Sadey heard Linda deliberately interject behind her. She dropped the Hitachi to the floor. "AAAAAAGGGHH! NOOOOO!" Sadey screamed. She launched into the tantrum of a psychotic four-year-old. She shook and lurched, trying her damnedest to break the desk, infuriatedly slamming her fists on its surface. She couldn't even feel the feather anymore, or the discomfort of the twine around her extremities, pinching into her skin. Her eyes filled with both blood-redness and tears. She babbled incoherently, spitting incessant nonsense syllables until her mind would process real words. "I...I...d—th—y—wh—...FUUUUUCK!!" she shrieked, through clenching, grinding teeth. "I HATE YOUUUUUUU!!" "Aw. Well, that's too bad," Linda uttered, calm and tranquil as could be. She ambled to her right, so that she and Kat stood on either side of Sadey's face, no one minding her pussy for the moment. They waited for her to inevitably settle back down. She felt her nose and cheeks being tweaked. "Ready to talk yet, dollface?" the voice to her left asked. Sadey sobbed. This was turning into an awful game of psychological terrorizing. By inflicting this despicable primal desire on her, they were really making her question whether it was worth keeping her secrets locked inside. For the first time, she felt like giving in. "Tell us the truth, we'll let you cum," the voice on her right purred into her ear. "Hmm?" continued the other, as Sadey felt her hair and back being caressed, between the shoulder blades and downwards. "What do you say? 'S not a hard thing to do. Just be honest with us...and you'll be handsomely rewarded." "Yes," agreed her boss. "On the other hand...we are actually being quite nice right now. If you insist on keeping quiet..." Sadey's mouth opened wide in anguish...as two sets of fingers fastened around her nipples, and began to pinch them...hard. "...We can make life very difficult for you." Gasp. Sadey painfully sucked air through her teeth. "OWWWWW..." she moaned. "Seems like a pretty simple choice to me. Don't you think, boss?" said Kat. "Oh, I do," smiled Linda, releasing their captive's nipples. "What'cha think, little friend? Would you like some more tickling? You want the pleasure?..." She took Sadey's ear lobe between her teeth as she finished, "...Or do you want some pain?" "I WANNA CUM!" Sadey mindlessly screeched. "Well, now, you see, I'm just not sure we can arrange that..." Linda explained, speaking slow and easy, as they enjoyed the show Sadey put on for them. "...As long as we don't know you...we really don't even know your name. Wouldn't that be impersonal?" Sadey's only response was to whap the desk and stamp the floor much as the twine would let her. "Orrrrr..." she heard again. Uh-oh... "...I believe there's another option..." Kat smirked. "And what's that, my esteemed right-hand lady?" Linda asked, leaning an elbow on Sadey's head. Kat grinned, turning back to rummage through her bag of fun once again. She pulled on a pair of heavy work gloves, found what else she was looking for, and turned to show her boss, like a child proudly displaying an 'A'-filled report card. She was so excited she was practically dancing in place. Linda nodded, wagging one index finger in broad approval. "I love the way you think, babe," she praised. What Kat was currently showing her boss-slash-girlfriend...happened to be a pouch of itching powder. She cautiously tore it open, humming cheerfully. "Yep; if this doesn't make the little cunt talk, nothing will." Sadey really didn't like the sound of this. "A'right, boss, now stand back!" Kat cheerfully warned. "Safety first!" Linda did as she asked, and Kat set about to giving Sadey a light dusting. "Right then! Let's see, a little on the back..." Kat demonstrated, coy and seductive. "...Bit on the shoulder...on the arm there...some for the boobies...little dab right there on the nose, so cute!..." Each location she sprinkled some powder took a moment to register. Once it did, Sadey began, predictably, going crazy. "AAAAAH! AAAAAHH! AAAAAHH!" she shouted repeatedly, tensing her muscles. "OH my GOD! What the fuck is that?!" Kat paused to stare down at her. "What's it feel like, silly??" Kat carried on, sprinkling a coating down her spine, and went a trifle more generous on—and in—her ass, at which point the pouch was almost empty. She furled out what was left over Sadey's parted legs and feet. Sadey had thought she was going insane over not being allowed to cum, but she was mistaken. This was insane. This was oblivion, and beyond. She screamed and howled, well on her way to laryngitis. The itching was un-bear-able. She realized—now, only too late—that she was able to stand everything else: the tickling, the teasing, the orgasm denial, the pinching, the taunting, the embarrassment...next to this, all that was a breeze. She was ready to rip herself apart. She wanted to scratch her own eyeballs out. She dug and clawed into the desk, until splints of wood collected under her fingernails. "STOPPIT!!" she implored. "STOPPIT!! PLEEEEASE!!" "Why, but it's already done, you funny little thing!" Kat told her merrily. "There's nothing to stop now!" The itching wore on until Sadey was trembling uncontrollably, whining, yowling for relief. Her actions dissonantly clashed as she bawled like a newborn infant but swore like a sailor. Her speech was akin to that following her orgasm deprivations: unintelligible and hysterical. As with her wild orgasms about to hit at the apex of pleasuring herself, she started feeling as if she wasn't in her own reality anymore. This was unreal. Her life literally flashed before her eyes. Her forehead, one of the few parts of her body to which nothing had been done, began throbbing something horrible. On top of everything else, she couldn't exactly use a headache right now. There was really rather enough to contend with at the moment. Kat dutifully disposed of the empty itching powder pouch. She prided herself, amongst other things, on not being a litterer. She returned, and clapped her gloves off over Sadey's head, which was by now about as wet as her cunt. "You're a genius," Linda remarked. "Remind me to give you a raise." "Mmm..." An aroused Kat semicircled around to where her chief/lover stood, and passionately kissed her. The liplock lasted several seconds full of Sadey carrying on behind them. They turned to stand side by side over her. "Anytime, little lady," Linda hollered, to carry over her screams. "Anytime you're ready to talk, it'll all be over. Anytime." The truth was, even if Sadey had wanted to confess, she wasn't sure she'd even remember what she had to say at this point. Unbelievably, as terribly senseless chaos as her world had been thrown into...it was about to get even worse. Linda reclaimed the Hitachi, flipped it up another setting, and returned it to Sadey's now softened clit. It was a good thing she was blindfolded, or else Sadey's eyes would have sprung directly out from their sockets, as if on springs. Her tone retained its dynamic volume and shot up three octaves, past her falsetto into a register yet to be defined. To say that she was going crazy now merely aspired to understatement. She had long since lost the ability to focus on what was truly important here—i.e., that she was under no circumstances to divulge the truth to them. Her outlook had all but entirely reversed. Right now she was on the verge of frantically babbling it all out just to get the insanity to end. "Say the words, we'll let you cum, pipsqueak," one of the voices taunted her. "Just say the words, and we'll let you cum!" The temptation had grown too great. Sadey was ready to surrender. Ready to admit they had broken her. She was a mess. A naked, drenched, dripping, libidinous, itchy, tied-up, blubbering mess. But she could still feel the vibing. And she simply couldn't bear another denial. She had to cum. Her priorities had changed. She'd give anything just to cum right now. Anything. The itching was still driving her out of her mind, but Sadey wasn't about to let it show up her forthcoming orgasm. She couldn't believe she had decided this, but...she would talk, if it got her the explosive orgasm she so very much needed right now. Was she about to sacrifice everything she had worked for all this time—her organization, her career, her nation, her life...for one orgasm? Yes. Absolutely. Without a moment's hesitation. But, Brooke—?! But nothing! You're in my mind! You've no idea what is happening on the outside right now! You have no right to question me! Don't you dare, Brooke! Don't, you, dare! Brooke's/Sadey's eyeballs had rolled straight back in her head. There were no longer sufficient words to describe what she was going through. All Linda and Kat had to do was stand and leer at her, keeping the Hitachi fixed right on her clit. They were of course also watching for the signals of when she was about to cum, which they had to keep an eye on to properly manipulate her and extract the crucial information. Sadey, meanwhile, really was just about to lose it. When she'd gotten up to tail the Ginger Kat to her hideout, the most electrifying megagasm she'd ever been forced through was not a concern. But after two harshly interrupted blasts of pleasure, now as her pussy was at last allowed to feel it again, the raging orgasm was barreling towards her at light speed. Here it came. Here it came. The Hitachi stayed on her. While it was there, the horrendous itching powder lost its wicked influence. Sadey's mind was set on climax and nothing else. If she was allowed through this, she could take anything. She could deal with the relentless itching, or whatever else they subjected her to. She began seeing stars. One blasted her square between the eyes. She spiraled through limitless dimensions of heaven, awaiting the imminent. If she wasn't careful, it would be joined by the bout of laryngitis she'd been fearing. She could still faintly feel the feather tickling her inside the pussy, helping her along the way. It was coming. It was coming! She couldn't believe it. It was about to happen! Kat and Linda counted down the final seconds with her. Five...four...three...two...one... And to Sadey's sheer astonishment, the orgasm finally...FINALLY—... Linda took the Hitachi away. "AAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHI.N.T.E.L.I.!!" Sadey cried. Linda and Kat raised their eyebrows. "What was that?" asked Kat. Her boss put the vibrator back on Sadey's clit for one second...and then swiftly removed it again. "I.N.T.E.L.I.!" Sadey confessed deliriously. "I work for I.N.T.E.L.I.!" She paused to heave a breath. "I can't take it anymore; you win! My name is Sadey Lacroix, and I work for I.N.T.E.L.I.!" she exclaimed. "They sent me here on a mission, to steal your plutonium! But you caught me, and you beat me! It's too much! I surrender! Pleeeeeeeeease let me cum!!" Kat and Linda turned to one another, exchanging a triumphant evil grin. Linda held the Hitachi out for Kat to take from her. "Well, well..." said Linda. "That's a good girl! Now then...Miss Sadey Lacroix...my associate will proceed to let you off the hook, while I adjourn to check this out. Be right back! Don't you go anywhere!" Kat flipped up the Hitachi once more before returning it to Sadey, who now felt her fate and her doom sealed... ...But her orgasm granted. "Ohhhhhhh—ohhhhhhhh—OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" Sadey erupted, her primal savage lust brought full circle. "Never let it be said that we are not women of our word," Kat concluded, turning off the Hitachi once the orgasm mercifully died down. "Now! You just sit tight, li'l gal, while the Missus Chief and I decide what to do with you next." She giggled maliciously, prancing out of the room, leaving a broken, defeated Sadey Lacroix...only to helplessly sob to herself. As the smoke cleared and her system settled back down, the utter magnitude of what had transpired dawned upon her and sank in. She'd confessed. She'd lost. She'd failed. For the first time, she had been overpowered, and defeated. It really was all over now. Oh, God...what have I done?... WHAT have I done?? To be continued...