1 comments/ 15555 views/ 6 favorites Dress Off 03: Tess Trueheart By: enf_cavalier [This story is a direct sequel to Dress Off 2: Erica vs Kimberly, and sees Stacey and Erin embark on a personal and important mission that could determine the very survival of Decider Enterprises.] Dress Off 3: The Capture of Tess Trueheart ================================= The sybian kicked up another level as the interrogator lent back in her chair and crossed her arms. A bemused smile touched the interrogator's lips, as she played idly with the controls of the masturbation device that her latest subject was strapped to. The subject - a curvaceous blonde woman in her mid-thirties, beautiful blue eyes closed tight in a desperate attempt to block out the scenario enveloping her - groaned as she felt the inevitable building up again. The orgasm that was about to wash over her was but only one in a long sequence that she'd already endured, and as she gritted her teeth in preparation for powerful release, she opened her eyes and flashed her tormentor a defiant smile. The interrogator sighed theatrically, and slowly pushed her seat back from her table. As she hauled herself to her feet, she took a moment to stretch her legs and adjust the hemline of the black knee-length skirt she was sporting. She didn't even bother looking at the blonde woman she had at her mercy, as the sybian did its work and sent another orgasm coursing through the body of her captive. The captive's moans were getting louder now with each session, and her breathing more erratic as she went limp, her arms shackled overhead to a chain hanging from the ceiling. The interrogator ceased the detailed inspection of her own state of attire, and looked up brightly as the blonde woman finished climaxing noisely. She let a hand wander to the sybian's remote control, sitting unobtrusively on the table that formed 1/3rd of the room's sparse furniture, and paused for a moment as a finger teased the control's single dial. Winking playfully at her blonde companion, the interrogator finally switched the dial to off, and walked slowly but deliberately over to where the captive stood. The interrogator's heels clicked loudly on the metal floor, suddenly the only noise in the otherwise sterile room. "That was your fifth orgasm. It could be the last one you have to experience in this place, all you have to do is tell me how to decrypt the files." The blonde regained some measure control of over herself - impressively quickly the interrogator privately admitted - and reinstated the defiant smile she'd modeled before. "Why? This is just starting to get fun. Don't tell me this thing's running low on batteries already." The interrogator laughed throatily. She was a woman in her earlier forties, with a sleekness to her physique and attire that spoke of decades of grooming and high personal standards. She wore a white blouse and black skirt that modestly covered the top half of her legs, and the only hint of personality to the otherwise standard business outfit was a pair of small gold earrings and a discreet matching necklace. She regarded the blonde in front of her, and gazed admiringly from head to toe. The captive beauty was almost completely naked, her hands shackled overhead and her feet shackled to rings in the floor, with her ankles sufficiently far apart that a sybian device sitting on a pole could nestle snugly between her legs. "My dear, I can assure you the sybian you've been having the pleasure of riding is most certainly connected to mains power. Don't worry about the batteries running out, it'll stay in business just as long as you insist on protracting this whole exercise." The blonde woman on the sybian took the sudden close proximity as an opportunity to spit on her captor, but the woman in the black skirt was too fast and casually slapped the blonde's face away. Other than the shackles, the only other thing to adorn the captive woman's body was a small pair of nipple clamps attached by a thin silver chain. The woman in the black skirt now took hold of these nipple clamps and gave them a decent tug, causing the blonde to gasp and come face to face with her interrogator. "Now now, prisoners should remember their manners Agent Trueheart. Shall we can continue to do this the hard way, or will you tell me where your employers are based?" Trueheart experimentally moved her tongue around the inside of her mouth, lightly pushing against the cheek that had just been slapped, while steadfastly ignoring the messages being sent to her by her remarkably sensitive breasts. "Come on Harrington, you can't tease a lady like this and then threaten to not let her finish." Harrington smiled, but there was no warmth in her eyes, and her hand maintained an uncomfortable pull on Trueheart's astonishingly sensitive nipples. After what seemed like an eternity, Harrington finally cocked her head to one side. "Have it your way then Agent Trueheart." Harrington suddenly let go of the nipple clamps' chain, turned abruptly on her heels, and marched to the only exit in the room, grabbing the Sybian's remote control in her right hand as she strode past the table. With her heel strikes still resounding through the room, she tapped the security code that caused the door to slide open, and turned to face her prisoner one last time. "You know Agent Trueheart, on a professional level I still truly admire your spirit and courage. You are a worthy adversary, and one should never be afraid to acknowledge that. And on a personal level, I do so hate to disappoint those so worthy of respect. Never let it be said that I don't indulge my guest's desires." With that final comment still ringing in Trueheart's ears, Harrington pointed the remote control at the sybian between her legs, turned the dial up to maximum power, and walked out of the room. ********************* The sound of the eight ball nestling into the corner pocket reverberated around the pool hall, or at the very least it would have seemed that way to the ashen-faced opponent who had watched the ball roll with grim certainty towards it's target. "I believe I called that pocket, darling." The sardonically smiling, striking brunette who'd played the shot didn't radiate friendliness. The pool hall was quiet, but not through lack of business. There was only one game on in the hall, and a sizeable audience had already built up to watch the two women slug it out. This was Michelle Ridge's home territory, and she wasn't in the mood to take prisoners, especially now that she had that winning feeling. She looked at the blonde woman who was her opposition, and casually gestured at her blouse with her cue stick. "I believe you owe us something, sweetheart." Michelle said, glancing over to her companion who was enjoying an uninterrupted view of the scene from the comfort of a nearby table. The companion, also a brunette and also easy on the eye, hopped off her stool and strolled over with an exaggerated calm. "I think this is a salutary lesson regarding what happens to blonde bitches who come into our pool hall and start making claims to greatness, wouldn't you say Michelle?" "Claire, I couldn't of said it better myself." Michelle replied, and looked expectantly at the blonde woman. Both of the players had already lost their skirts, with a seething Michelle having to show off her red panties after the very first game, due to what Michelle was now comfortably chalking down to beginner's luck on the part of her soon to be blouse-less foe. The blonde woman didn't look as cocky and confident as she had when she'd walked into the pool hall thirty minutes ago, challenging any woman to beat her in a fair game. Looking nervously at the growing audience around them, she fumbled at the first button of her blouse, and then paused to take into a deep breath. Knowing there was no other way out of this than to walk out in disgrace, she quickly undid the remaining buttons, slid the blouse of her shoulders, and ungraciously flung it at Michelle. Michelle caught the blouse cleanly, and made a show of inspecting the material. "Nice." she said, and then waved the cue stick again at the now visible white bra that the blonde was making an attempt of covering with her right arm. "So the choices are: play on, or walk on out of here in that rather fetching ensemble." "Hey! I never said anything about you keeping my clothing after this game!" the blonde woman replied indignantly. "Well sure, and if you see this through to completion I'm sure Claire and I will be merciful and let you have it back before you slink back to whatever hole you crawled out of. But quitters don't get squat around here, so you might want to keep that in mind after our next game when that bra of yours is resting on my friend's table over there." The blonde woman seemed for a second to have a look of panic in her eyes, but she was enough of a player to regain some composure and look defiantly at Michelle. "Fine, rack them up." she muttered. "My break." Michelle broadened her smile even more, and signalled to Claire to return to her seat, indicating with a nod of her head that this was now well under control and that the show was only going to get better from here on in. ************ Ten minutes and one game later, a white bra unceremoniously joined the blouse on Claire's table, and both Claire and Michelle took a moment to openly laugh at the predicament their opponent find themselves in. "Sweetheart, this isn't your night, and this certainly isn't your pool hall. What's your name, bitch? Who do we have the pleasure of stripping tonight?" The blonde looked at the two women and at the increasingly large pile of her clothes sitting on her table. "Bree." She half-whispered. One arm was covering her nipples from the penetrating stares of every man in the pool hall, while the other arm was already protecting the only item of clothing she had left on - a pair of silky white panties that matched the brassiere perfectly. Bree was a woman in her mid twenties, but her height was the only thing average about her. While her breasts might have been considered small by those who bothered to measure such things, there was absolutely no doubting that Bree made up for a slight lack of quantity with absolute perfection when it came to quality. It was a matter of accepted scientific fact in the area where Bree had grown up that you could simply tell someone's sexual orientation by whether they could, after twenty minutes in a conversation with Bree, tell you what colour her eyes were, whether she wore glasses, or anything about the topic of the conversation. "Well Bree, I see this bra and those panties are a set, so it seems a real shame to separate them." Michelle picked up the bra again and twirled it around her fingers, before passing it back to Claire for her to further inspect. "Given how you play, Bree, I'm guessing that you must have to take this off on a fairly regular basis. I'm surprised the clasp wasn't a worn-out bit of velcro..." Claire raised the trophy to the onlooking men and women in the audience, and the brunette felt a wave of exhilaration as the audience's appreciation visibly caused the now topless Bree even more discomfort. Bree looked like the kind of woman more used to teasing men behind a tight white top, than to brazenly having them out on display for any bystander to ogle. "So Bree, we once again reach a cross roads. One more game, and the good news is that you get your clothes back. Of course, there's the small matter of you having to take those panties off and doing a little show for us all. But you get to lose with - well, let's not lie and call it 'dignity' - but at least you get to lose and recover your losses. Or you can decide that you'd rather not have every man in this room have the sight of your fully naked and perfectly displayed body imprinted on their memories for the rest of their lives. You can take those rather saucy white panties of yours, and you can pretend that by covering your rather impressive breasts with your arm that you have retained some measure of self-respect, and you can march right out of that door." Michelle was loving this as she saw Claire's words rain down like body blows on what seemed to be left of Bree's self-assurance. It wasn't even worrying her that her own tightly defined legs were on full display, with her blouse not even fully covering her red panties when she was standing up. She knew what the sight would be when she leaned over. The men in the audience hadn't even bothered to be discrete about better positioning themselves to stare at her barely covered ass as she'd played the second game. The reward of seeing Bree's discomfort was a wonderful tonic though. However, that said, she couldn't help but credit Bree for not having completely broken down yet. A lesser woman would have had tears in her eyes now. Instead, Bree shot back a defiant look again, and seemed to hesitate before opening her mouth to reply. "I want..." the high pitch in her voice betrayed her nervousness, and she grimaced as she corrected herself. "I want one final game. I'm changing the stakes though." She looked at both Claire and Michelle. "If I win this next game, you take of your blouses and bras, and we all stand here for these guys to gawk at." Michelle and Claire exchanged looks that mixed amusement with amazement. Michelle found her voice first. "Why the hell, dear little Bree, would we want to risk that. You're down to your panties. Last time I checked, you had to use two hands to hold a cue stick. So, unless you've got some magical talent that you've so far hidden very well, you've not got much more to give us that you aren't going to have to give up anyway. I'm almost afraid some of the guys are going to get a headache just trying to decide whether to watch you from behind or from the front. 'Do I stare at her ass, framed in tiny white panties as she bends over, or do I stare at her tits as she tries to aim?' It's a hell of a dilemma. I'm sorry, but if by some miracle you fluke another game, these fine gentleman will get to see that my bra indeed matches my panties. And. Nothing. More." "What if I offered something else?" Bree persisted. "Like what? We aren't short of money, sweetie, and you aren't a good enough player to have any money anyway." "I'll do a forfeit." Bree countered. The audience around them was completely silent as the drama unfolded in front of them. Michelle started to scoff when Claire cut her off with a wave of her hand. "Wait up Michelle," Claire interjected, "let's see now. We don't want to be ungracious hosts. Bree here is in a spot of bother and sees a way out of it. A good samaritan would help out a lost soul when they find one." Claire paused and looked up and down at Bree, lingering over the topless body, and then deliberately and slowly walking around her. Claire reached out and touched Bree's back, and then ran a single finger down to the top of her panties. She could feel Bree involuntarily pull away slightly from her touch , and she let her finger follow the beautiful blonde's backside, playfully chasing her ass as it shifted uncomfortably. "It goes without saying," Claire said in a suddenly soft, almost comforting voice, "that if you lose then these come off." Claire paused again as she came around to face Bree. She placed two hands on the blonde woman's shoulders, and delicately ran each hand down her arms, until they were holding hands. She had perfect skin, and a surprisingly strong physique. No matter of physical strength would help her in this predicament though. She stared at Bree's downcast eyes, until Bree finally met her gaze. "It goes without saying," Claire seemed to whisper, in a way that inexplicably carried to everyone in the room, "that if you lose then these hands of yours will be bound behind your back." Claire let go of Bree's soft trembling hands, and maintained eye contact as she then backed away slowly. She reached a support pillar in the room. Without breaking her gaze into Bree's eyes, she ran a hand fondly down the pillar, which was situated the nearest to the front door of the pool hall. "It goes without saying," Claire now raised her voice mockingly, "that you will be bound to this pillar, facing that door, for the rest of the night." Claire looked across at Michelle, who seemed to intuitively know where she was going with this, and reached over to a bag from where she pulled a pen. "And it goes without saying," Claire finished, now staring admiringly at the pen for no apparent reason, "that we'll all sign your body with exactly what we think of you, as a memento of your time here." Claire switched her focus back to Bree, and let the full weight of her words settle in. Bree inhaled deeply a few times as she appeared to consider her options, eyes closed as if to block out the distraction of a crowd of men and women ogling her exquisite assets. Her chest rose and fell in a way that almost hypnotised the audience, before she opened her eyes, and simply said "Yes." Claire opened her mouth slightly as she quickly masked her surprise. She'd actually expected Bree to surrender. A quick glance at Michelle as she industriously worked on her cue stick was all the reassurance she needed though. Keeping her focus firmly on Bree, she called out to her gobsmacked audience. "Boys. This is going to be your lucky night." ************ The men in the crowd stood stock still in amazement at the sight in front of them. Three women. Three beautiful, amazing women. Topless and desperately trying to resist the urge to cover up as they slowly but surely turned around for the entire audience to soak in the view. Michelle's red panties and Claire's black panties stood as a colourful contrast to Bree's white panties, and as Bree had been topless now for an entire game, she was almost becoming immune to the sense that there were dozens of eyes glued to every sway and movement of her nipples. The same could not be said of Michelle and Claire. The former was still wondering how she managed to lose that last game, how the blonde outsider had managed to suddenly find a run of form despite surely being distracted by the leering looks from a crowd silently willing Michelle to victory. The latter was seething at the apparent incompetence of the former. It would be worse for Claire and Michelle of course. This was their home, they'd have to return knowing what everyone had seen. The little blonde bitch would probably move on, disappear into folklore, and never have to worry about seeing the never-ending smirks of those around them. The hall had never been this quiet while open, as the audience just privately meditated over the beauty on display in front of them. Only the occasional wolf whistle and scattered applause broke the silence, until suddenly, out of nowhere a series of beeps started, as if from a pager. Bree suddenly looked up brightly, and reached over for her bag at a nearby table. She held up a finger for everyone to hold on a moment as she rummaged through, before triumphantly pulling it out and holding it up for the world in general to behold. Bree's demeanour seemed to switch suddenly, and a calm confidence now visibly showed in her body language that seemed completely at odds with the state of her clothing. "Ladies, thanks for the game. It was an excellent way to kill the time necessary for a little project of mine. Now, if you don't mind following me." Michelle and Claire opened their mouths, but hadn't seemed to have thought through a reply, and so closed them again. Bree stared blankly at them for a moment, and then clicked her fingers. "Sorry, yes, of course. How could I forget." Bree drew herself up to her full height, and extended her hands out in front of her, before twitching her nose and waggling her fingers like a stage magician. Dress Off 03: Tess Trueheart "Showbiz!" she exclaimed. Michelle and Claire suddenly broke out into an almost military style march towards the door, pushing their way through the crowd, seemingly oblivious to the occasional quick grope that the audience members snuck in while being unceremoniously shoved aside. Bree quickly gathered up their clothing before making as if to head off after them. As she was about to leave, she cast a quick smile around an audience whose members collectively combined complete confusion with total arousal. "Thanks everyone," she said with a quick wave, and a nod of her head indicating the pile of clothes she was carrying. "Don't worry about these, the girls and I have just got to get changed in the car for our next performance. Enjoy the rest of your night!" Bree turned on her heels and strutted out of the hall, her tall long legs carrying her gracefully to the now open door to the street outside where Michelle and Claire waited. Every pair of eyes in the room watched as Bree's tight white panties and perfectly defined, entirely naked back disappeared from sight. It was only then that a collective intake of breath erupted into frenzied conversation as everyone tried to digest what had just happened. Even through the hubbub though, the sound of the front door closing echoed through the hall, and a ripple of silence rolled through the hall one final time as those nearest the exit nudged those further away and directed their attention to the door itself. Resting innocently on the door handle, evident to even the furthest patron at the darkest corner, was the unmistakable sight of three delicate pieces of white, red and black material. ************ "Ladies." A fully dressed,smartly attired Bree Carson smiled sweetly as she looked into the suddenly confused eyes of Michelle and Claire. "What the hell's going on here?!" Michelle exclaimed, looking around them in shock. It was if they had suddenly dozed off for a moment, only to wake up a few seconds later to find themselves in a completely different place, and no-one else around. The room they were now in looked for all the world like a small changing room, with a wall of mirrors and a couple of cheap looking seats strewn haphazardly in front of a narrow table built into the wall. "Well, I've got some great news for a pair of budding entertainers such as yourselves." Bree glanced down a clipboard in her hand and theatrically ran a finger down what seemed to be a list of names before tapping it expectantly on a pair midway down a sheet. "What have you done to us, you little bitch?!" Claire snarled, confusion giving way quickly to a bubbling anger. She went to move her towards Bree but confusion rallied to the front of her mind again as she realised that she couldn't actually control her legs. "Now, now, it's just a little hypnotism - nothing to get too stressed out about. Yet." Bree said, maintaining a friendly smile as she gave Michelle and Claire a chance to take in their surroundings. Both women were completely naked, with the only exception being a strange earpiece that they each wore in their right ears. Michelle and Claire looked at Bree with undisguised hatred as they took in the enormity of their current predicament. "Give us our clothes now, and maybe we let you walk out of here. There are two of us, and soon to be less than one of you." Michelle's eyes flashed as she delivered the ultimatum, while next to her Claire struggled to make any headway on closing the gap between her and their blonde tormentor. "Well, that's hardly constructive, it is girls?" Bree said, admonishingly. "Besides, I'm guessing that you're finding it a little hard to move right now, and I'm sure you'd love to hear why." Bree took a moment to pointedly stare at the women's breasts, knowing that neither woman would be able to cover them up, and grudgingly admitted to herself that both of these women were rather beautiful. They clearly worked out, and the flat tummy and well-toned thighs, along with milky complexion of their smooth flawless skin, made Bree half-wonder who'd finish first when what she had planned went down. "You see, while we battled it over the pool table, a fun little device of mine was broadcasting a hypnotic message. Nothing like a good game of strip pool to keep the audience focussed on the visuals, and keep the background noise from other games or conversations down to a minimum. Of course, the subliminal message is easy enough to ignore if you know what to do, or if you've got half a brain, but sadly for you I guess you don't qualify under either of those categories. The upshot of it all is that you fine upstanding ladies are both hypnotised, and we've just spent a rather constructive thirty minutes putting together a modest show. Well, perhaps 'modest' isn't quite the appropriate word. Nonetheless, we're in the perfect place for it though. The Roxbury," Bree continued, waving a hand around her, and lifting her eyes to the ceiling, "has witnessed the start quite a few sparkling entertainment careers." Michelle and Claire's eyes widened considerably as they realised they were in a changing room of the city's foremost theatre. They also realised that there was a dull, constant noise coming through the ceiling, which they'd previously missed by virtue of having greater concern for their missing clothing. The noise could only mean though that there was a show going on upstairs, and they had absolutely no doubt that it would be a full house. "You're not going to make us go out there looking like this." Michelle said, "Not because of one stupid pool game." "No, absolutely right. I'm going to make you go out like that, because of what you did to someone I know." Bree replied, the smile beginning to fade now and an icy calm settling into her voice. "Who?!" "Tess Trueheart. Let's just say she's a fellow employee of a certain company who innocently contacted you a while back thinking you both had a problem that our services could resolve to everyone's - eventual - satisfaction." "So, girlfriend of yours is she?" "Well, you know how it is, us blondes have got to stick together. Anyway, it turns out you didn't actually have a problem, but were being paid by someone to get Tess out into the open. Tess was taken right in front of you, and not only did you not do anything to help, you were actively complicit in her abduction. That doesn't endear you to me, unfortunately." "So what? It was a job. It's not our fault your friend's an idiot." Claire said. "Now, now, stop making it so easy for me to rationalise your imminent humiliation." Bree snapped back, fire in her eyes for the first time all night. She gathered herself and continued on. "Luckily for you both, this isn't a simple mission of revenge. I need to know who hired you, and that means that you both stand an outside chance of not being on stage in eight minutes in front of this city's elite, staggeringly under-dressed for the occasion." "Let us go right now!" Claire shouted, furious at Bree and furious at her own legs for refusing to move. "Yes, I'll let you go in a few minutes. I'll send you both on your way. However, before you head off you might want to hear my proposition." Bree tossed a pad and pen on the table in front of Claire, and let their anger simmer for another few seconds before continuing. "Thanks to a conversation we all had before you just woke up, the hypnotism will compel you to head out on stage in a few minutes - I think act one is about to finish shortly so you won't have to share the stage - and rather dramatically masturbate for all to see." Michelle and Claire's mouths dropped open as they listened on in horror. "You will fondle your breasts. You will moan and groan like no woman has moaned or groaned before. You will massage and rub your moist wet pussies until you've almost achieved the noisiest climax those people have ever witnessed, and just when you're on the edge of finishing yourselves off, you'll turn to each other and finish each other off with your tongues. Don't worry about any interference. The security guards are all going to be busy with another distraction elsewhere in the building, so I suspect I can buy you enough time to finish the performance before you're rudely interrupted by any prudes who don't like your modern take on the performing arts." Bree paused for effect. "However, there is a tiny sliver of hope." Bree said brightly, waggling her finger at them. "So all we have to do is give you a name and number, and you give us our clothes back?" Michelle whispered, a lot of the defiance now knocked out of her. It was more than a little worrying that she couldn't actually see either of their clothes in the room, and from Claire's frantic glancing around, she could tell the same realisation had come to her too. "Oh god no." Bree laughed breezily, a glint in her eye as she flashed a wide smile at them both. "I tossed your clothes in a bin after we entered the building and unless you want to spend an hour searching this building in nothing but a pair of shoes, I reckon you might want to forget you ever owned those particular pieces of slutwear." Michelle and Claire stared back at Bree incredulously. "You said you had something we wanted! We want our clothes!" "No," Bree replied, waving the finger at them again, "You think you want your clothes. What you really want is the secret control word that will stop you from going out onto that stage and masturbating in front of a rather large audience of this cities movers and shakers. The good news is that the word is encoded into those special earpieces you're wearing, or as I like to call them - your entire outfit!" Michelle and Claire involuntarily touched their ears to feel the tiny buds of salvation. "Of course," Bree continued, "it's not quite that simple. The earpieces have a random timer in them. I reckon it'll take you four minutes to get to the stage. The timer is set to go off anytime between one to seven minutes after you leave this room. Even I don't know when!" Bree clapped her hands and shared an excited smile. "It'll be fun to count down the seconds though, won't it! Four minutes to the stage. Maybe one, maybe seven minutes until the control word sets you free. I reckon those are pretty good odds. Better odds than you gave Tess. Of course, should you feel that professionally you can't reveal your employers, then I'll just take my property and send you on your way." The note of finality in Bree's voice conveyed to her unwilling audience that Bree wasn't about to wait for protracted deliberations. Michelle and Claire glanced at each other, a look of helplessness in both their eyes, and Claire reached for the pen and paper to write something down. "Of course," Bree chimed in, "our little conversation before involved me implanting another secret control word that I can use at any time should the name and number on that pad prove to be less than useful. You don't want me to have to come and find you both again, because I have a very active imagination when it comes to novel ways to embarrass." Claire paused slightly, and seemed to shiver slightly, before continuing on with writing down a name and number. "What if they gave us a false name though?" she whined. "Life can certainly be unfair at times can't it." Bree commiserated with clearly fake compassion, hands perched on her hips. Claire sulkily flung the pad at Bree, who took the pad and grimly smiled at the contents. She took in the details, taking care to memorise them now, and then raised her head to address the two naked women in front of her. "Great doing business with you both. Please feel free to keep those earpieces on as you head off for your appointment with the stage. You'll forgive me if I don't wish you good luck, as I'm rather hoping those timers run a little long." Bree opened the door to the changing room, and took one last long look at the stricken ladies. "Showtime" she said, simply. Michelle and Claire felt their legs begin to move, and they marched out in the empty corridor beyond, their hearts racing at a million miles an hour as they silently pleaded for the earpieces to spring to life. Bree watched as they walked quickly down the hallway, hands obediently by their side so that their completely naked bodies would be on show for all to see. She allowed herself to smirk in satisfaction at having exacted some retribution for Tess' capture, but it settled back into a grim expression of determination when she reminded herself that Tess Trueheart was still in the hands of the enemy. "Mitchelson." She said, speaking into the microphone hidden in the collar of her sleeve. "Go ahead Carson." came the immediate response from her partner, who'd been silently monitoring the whole situation. "Has the security alarm at the back door been triggered?" "Yes, the security guards are already on their way. They'll be investigating my amusing little setup for at least ten minutes, so Michelle and Claire should have an unimpeded run." "Good." "Did you set those timers going?" "Oh!" Bree said, raising a hand her to mouth in mock horror, "I'm such a terrible agent aren't I? There's always some small detail I forget to take care of." Bree continued staring down the corridor for a few more moments as the nude women started up a set of stairs, breasts undoubtedly jiggling in front as they bounced on up to a waiting crowd. As the last bare foot passed out of sight, Bree then turned and started back to her the car where Mitchelson waited, humming quietly as she went. ********************* "Agent Carson and Agent Mitchelson were able to acquire a name and number thirty minutes ago, and we have traced both to an old disused facility of ours in Vancouver." Stacey Shackleton stirred in her seat as the shadowy figure at the other end of the video conference cut right to the chase. Normally, these mission briefings were dragged out a little bit, but after what had happened in the past 72 hours, it was clear that this was no ordinary missions. "Our agent is alive and in one piece, of that we are certain. Unfortunately we are also certain that the ransom demand - should they bother to go through with one - is one we cannot meet." Special Agent Shackleton crossed her arms thoughtfully, and gazed into the middle distance. She and her red-headed companion of six months were otherwise alone in the room, with the laptop sitting in front of both of them, and a crackling fire keeping out some of the cold that had been ever-present this winter. "Would it be fair to say that they already knew that we'd track down their stooges and that this trail we've stumbled on is one that's been deliberately laid down for us?" No-one who met the brunette beauty was ever in doubt of her natural and effortless good looks. However, it was only as you got to know Stacey Shackleton that you realised that those perfectly pert breasts and finely crafted backside were but two parts of a trifecta that also included a sharp and incisive intellect. "You'd be right Special Agent. The person who captured our agent is known to us, just as we are clearly known to them. We are under no doubt that we were allowed to trace the message to there, and that of course it is a trap." "If it's so obvious," replied Stacey, "why would they possibly think we'd care to walk into it?" "Because Agent Shackleton, the organisation that has taken off with your colleague knows that we have a certain affinity with those who work here. They know that we have a certain fondness for them that means we'll do whatever we can to get her back. And in this case, that affinity and fondness is ..." the cloaked voice paused for a moment, "... particularly high. There were those on the Committee who thought you shouldn't be involved, given the connection. I took a different view. I'm pulling you off your current assignment, so that the both of you can take a trip and see if you can't cause a reversal of fortune." Stacey Shackleton took a big breath in and rubbed her face with her hands, taking in the enormity of the current situation. Beside her, Agent Erin Masterson coughed politely. Stacey waved the inevitable question away, signalling that she'd fill Erin in shortly, and turned her attention back to the laptop screen. "Of course Director, we'll pack immediately. Do we know what physical and mental state Tess is likely to be in? It's only been three days, Tess wouldn't break under torture." "Everyone breaks under torture eventually Agent Shackleton, although in this case we believe that Tess' captors won't employ any of the usual interrogation techniques. They have, well let's just say unusual tastes and somewhat contradictory beliefs. Those beliefs should at least keep Agent Trueheart relatively safe for now, even if very far from comfortable. A full mission briefing is being downloaded to your computer now. Good luck. We'll be in touch." The Director's abrupt sign-off didn't even wait for acknowledgement from Stacey or Erin. This mission was time-critical, and the clock was already ticking. Stacey looked across to a still confused Erin. "Come on," she said, grabbing the laptop and heading towards her bedroom to pack, "I'll fill you in on the way to the airport." ********************* As Stacey fought their way through the late afternoon traffic, Erin finally finished up on her mobile and dropped the phone back into her backpack. "Flights are booked, and I've got us rooms at a motel near the old safe-house. Now how about an answer to that question of how you know Tess Trueheart? Have you worked with her before? "In a manner of speaking." Stacey gave up on the lane she was currently in, and darted into faster moving traffic beside her, merging between two expensive-looking cars with split-second timing, She waved distractedly in half-apology at the herd of suddenly honking drivers around her, and tapped the steering wheel impatiently as the airport finally came into view ahead of her. "Well there's an answer that illuminated absolutely nothing." Erin could see the concern on her mentor's face. The lane they were in began to speed up again though, and Stacey finally let go of some of the tension that the late-afternoon crawl had added on top of what the mission had already provided. The beautiful brunette special agent took a moment to look across and throw a weak smile at her passenger. "Sorry Erin." Stacey could see that Erin was eager to help, and she reflected that it had been a weird couple of months for the duo. Agent Erin Matthews, the most junior hire of Decider Enterprise's latest small batch of 'graduates', had taken three long weeks to forgive Stacey for her own role in Erin's need for a new life. Inevitably though, after that initial period of anger, their relationship had suddenly snowballed into a deep friendship forged from a common experience. As Erin realised that Stacey had once experienced the same intense, naked embarrassment as she had, Erin and Stacey bonded, and they'd settled into their roles of mentor and student with mutual respect. "I've known Tess in two lives. My past life, and my current life. She helped me become what I am today, in several ways." Stacey couldn't help but reflect that this meant Tess was one of the main reasons that she'd once been left on public display, completely naked, outside a busy city cathedral, unable to cover up or escape, with many an amateur photographer experiencing the photo shoot of their lives. It had to mean something that this fact actually made extracting Tess from her current predicament all the more important for Stacey Shackleton. ********************* Harrington walked into the meeting room and strode purposefully to her seat without even acknowledging the two other people sat at the table. Dress Off 03: Tess Trueheart "The prisoner has so far not been cooperative. As we expected." "So what next? We can hardly continue your method of extracting the information indefinitely. We've already received reports that the two women you used to entrap Agent Trueheart have been spoken to by the enemy." "Yes, yes, of course they have." Harrington said dismissively, still not even bothering to acknowledge the other speaker with as much as a glance. "Well," the other speaker continued, already realising this conversation was going to be like extracting blood from a stone. "It's not going to take them long to figure out who we are. The false trail you laid probably isn't impenetrable, and they have annoyingly intelligent operatives." "Oh, they know who we are. Come on, why even bother with a false trail. Especially when they'll be so kind as to obligingly send us a Plan B free of charge?" "What?! You mean to actually gave those two idiots you employed the direct number of the Vancouver site?!" "Sure, why not. Seemed more impressive than a tawdry calling card, and Tess being Tess, I feel the urge to acquire some leverage." Harrington leaned back in her chair, and took a moment to smooth out a barely visible crease in her jacket, and then reached into her pocket to extract a small usb drive. "It doesn't matter that they know who I am. It matters that they know what I have, and who I have." She stared at the USB drive again for a full minute, almost trying to decipher it's contents by shear strength of will. Then she grimaced, put it back in her pocket and seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts she was having. Harrington looked up for the first time, and flashed a grin at the others. "By the end of the week, we'll have the inside gossip on at least half of Decider Enterprises motley collection of targets, and our beloved and benevolent boss will have all the control he's ever wanted." "And I," she continued in far quieter voice, once again turning her attention to the far wall, "will have all the revenge I've ever wanted." ********************* Stacey and Erin stood in front of the nondescript building, blended into the drab street, situated in what could only be called one of the more anonymous areas of Vancouver. It was seven at night, and the Vancouver winter was not missing an opportunity to reinforce it's reputation as really rather cold. The two women had come straight from the airport via a couple of stores for supplies, and the coats they'd brought from home were beginning to feel a little flimsy in the face of a determined chill. Erin half-turned her face towards Stacey, without taking her eyes of the front door to the building. "Well, looks cosy." "It's an old facility, hasn't been used in years. It's from the old days before the organisation decided that nobody would expect us to hide out in somewhere as obvious as five-star hotels, so we may as well hide out in comfort." "Yes," said Erin, "I noticed that this place might struggle to pick up five stars. Or one star. Or a positive review of any kind." Stacey looked across at Erin and raised an eyebrow. "Come on Erin, you know not to judge a place by the facade outside. For all you know this place could be a palace behind that door." Stacey gestured towards the door with the graffiti and the suspiciously clean padlock, and then shrugged her shoulders and adjusted the hood on her jacket to help keep the cold wind out. "Of course in this case, you'd be right, but that's entirely beside the point." Stacey looked in both directions to see if anyone was watching, and then smoothly pulled some bolt cutters from her backpack. She was about to break the lock when Erin grabbed her arm and pointed at what Stacey had assumed was an old poster advertising some local gig that someone had plastered on the wall. Erin's finger pointed at a very recognisable symbol - the logo of Decider Enterprises. "So," said Stacey, "it's one of own safe houses, of course it would have some identification on it." "True, but didn't the graphic design department manage to ram through a change in the logo about three months ago in a blatant attempt to justify the actual employment of a graphic design department?" "Yes." "And didn't you say this facility had been abandoned for years." "Yes." "So how come the logo is the god awful one that the graphic design department foisted on us?" Stacey stared at the poster, gave Erin a friendly squeeze on the shoulder and ripped the poster off the wall. As she did, a couple of earpieces fell to the ground, and Erin quickly kneeled down to retrieve them. Handing one to Stacey, neither delayed in putting them in an ear, and neither were surprised when the earpieces suddenly started humming. Seconds later, the dark silence of the deserted street was jarringly replaced by unmistakable sounds of a woman experiencing an orgasm. "Our mutual friend, Special Agent Tess Trueheart," said a female voice "a very special guest of mine, and it's always so rewarding to catch up with those who play such an important role in who we are today." Stacey quickly looked at Erin to make sure she was getting this too. Erin nodded, and glanced sharply around her, trying to make sure that she wasn't distracted from any visual signs of immediate danger by the voice in her ear. "I can reassure you that Tess is thoroughly enjoying her stay, and I'd like you to join us too. Eventually. If you want to see dear old Tess, I'd be certainly happy to arrange that." The voice certainly seemed business like, and purpose evident in the tone suggested they were dealing with someone who'd been around the industry. Twin shafts of bright light illuminated the both of them with impeccable timing just as the voice finished, easily drowning out the dull light of the street lights infrequently scattered along the street. Stacey put a hand over the eyes to try and make out the source better, and instantly realised they were the headlights of an approaching car. "The car", the woman in the earpiece chimed in, "will take you to your next destination. I assure you this car is your best opportunity to find Miss Trueheart." The car pulled up beside them and stopped. It was a black sedan and naturally the windows were tinted. The doors didn't open, and there was no signs of life from within, or seemingly any inclination for anyone inside to step out and challenge them. "Now in case certain ideas are popping into those fiendishly clever minds of yours, I regretfully have to say the driver is but a poor slob with no real idea about any of this. He knows a destination, so that which he'll show you willingly is all you'll ever get out of him." Stacey and Erin shared yet another look, and both were looking up and down the street to see if there was anyone else looking. The headlights had ruined what little night vision they had though. "Ignorant as he is though, he makes up for it in paranoia. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to feed your belongings through the passenger side window so that he can keep any eye on them during the trip. An entirely unnecessary precaution I'm sure, two upstanding ladies such as yourselves would surely not cause harm to someone so lowly as to be positively innocent. but I suppose I should humour him anyway." The voice contained an air of levity that suggested the speaker had little regard for those she employed. Stacey took off her backpack as the passenger side window slid half way down. The car was dark inside, and Stacey could barely make out the driver, but she threw the backpack on to the passenger's seat and indicated that Erin do the same. As Erin reluctantly handed the backpack over, the voice piped up again. "Of course, I'd personally take your guarantee that you have no weapons hidden in those coats of yours, and would gladly let you keep them." The voice paused for a moment as Stacey stared blankly ahead. "But you know how underlings can be. They don't share our mutual respect and understanding of honour. So, I'm afraid the coats will be going in the car too. Stacey had already half-removed her coat as the voice was speaking, and shoved it through the window, before mentally cursing their new tour guide and making a move for the rear doors. "Wait up" said the voice. Clearly whoever was speaking to them could see them. Were they watching from a nearby building, or through a camera? Stacey wished her teeth would stop chattering so she could her herself think. "You see, you have a certain reputation that unfairly precedes you, and the driver is frankly nervous that you could use some kind of material to restrain him while he's concentrating on his driving. Somewhat unlikely I'm sure we can all agree, but I suppose it would be a health and safety issue for the driver to be unduly affected by nerves when driving at night. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to deposit anything that might conceivably used to restrain him in the passenger seat as well." The voice gave this a moment to settle in, and then helpfully chimed in with a clarification. "In case you're wondering, that's pretty much everything you're wearing." Erin had just deposited her coat through the window as they both realised what was to come, and she openly swore. "Now, now" admonished the unidentified woman, "I'm sure we can all agree with the old principle that it's better to be safe than to be sorry." "Panties?!" Stacey replied, knowing that who ever was speaking to her could hear also her every word. "Panties?! I'm going to restrain someone with my panties?!" "Well, clearly they could be used as a gag while you rough up the poor man for information he sadly doesn't have to divulge." Stacey cast a look to the heavens, and then gave a look to Erin that said in no uncertain terms that whoever they were dealing with would pay for this, but that right now they had no option but to play along. As shirts and jeans found their way on to passenger seat, Erin started to jog on the spot to keep warm in the sharp cold of the winter night. Clad only in bra and panties, Erin began to rub her shoulders to massage some heat into them, only to notice Stacey giving her the signal to strip entirely as quickly as possible. "Sooner we do this, the sooner we're in that car and on our way" Stacey said. Erin could only helplessly agree, and moments later her bra was off and Erin's gorgeous, ample breasts felt the full unfiltered effects of the wind. "Fuck!" she swore, surprising even herself. She shivered again as Stacey unhooked her own bra and showed off a pair of nipples that looked like they could cut diamonds in their current state. Stacey grimly agreed with Erin's one word assessment of the statement, and after only the briefest of pauses to reflect on the predicament, she hooked her fingers on both side of her panties and pulled them down. Bending at the waist to remove them, she let out a tiny and undignified shriek as a gust of wind blew right into her backside and between her legs. "Fuck!" she screamed, echoing Bree's earlier thoughts, and she quickly stood up, placing a hand on her ass as a feeble attempt at a windbreak. "Put them in the car please, ladies." the voice calmly commanded. Stacey and Erin dumped their panties in through the window and quickly went to open the rear doors. Locked. Stacey tried the handle again, running on the spot as she did, breasts bouncing freely, the only saving grace being that the street was still mercifully empty. Still locked. Somebody's enjoying this view, and that somebody, Stacey reflected, was going to pay severely for this in the not too distant future. As the passenger side window slid up and closed, the voice crackled into life again. "Fantastic, thank you for your cooperation ladies. I'm sure you're keen to get to your destination, and I've now instructed the driver to take you there directly." Thank God for that, thought Stacey, now open the damn door. Before she got a chance to try the handle again though, the car suddenly pulled away from the street and started to cruise down towards an intersection in the distance. Another random car drove past in the other direction, and honked to indicate that Stacey and Erin had been spotted. They two women looked at each other, jogging and hopping on the spot, completely nude, exposed, cold, and without any documents, gear, or supplies. It went without saying that strictly speaking they'd both been in far more compromising situations than this before. They trained to handle compromising positions. However, they didn't train to do it when their finely trained minds were otherwise distracted by a Vancouver winter night, and they both could see that the other was beginning to feel the old sensations of acute embarrassment. They felt like amateurs, and that only helped to exacerbate the problem. "Ladies, if you'd be so kind as to follow the car, the driver will ensure he goes at a suitable speed such that two fine specimens like yourselves will be able to keep up with. I certainly", said the mysterious voice, with a note of mocking concern carrying through the earpieces, "wouldn't suggest you stand around in the cold admiring the surroundings if I were you. It'll get a bit chilly out there in an hour or so..." Stacey and Erin stared at the car as it pulled gently away into the distance, with a sinking feeling in the pits of their stomachs, teeth chattering, and their entire skin covered in goosebumps. Another pair of headlights turned a corner behind them, and the muffled sound of a party of revellers approaching from the opposite direction jarred Stacey and Erin out of their trance and into action. With nowhere to go but forward, and hoping that the enemy was more interested in merely humiliating them rather than actually causing them to die of hypothermia, Stacey and Erin began to break into a run. Destination unknown. Duration uncertain. "How far do you think they'll make us run?" Erin stuttered through clenched teeth as they turned into a more brightly lit street at the first intersection. "Don't know." Stacey replied, "But do you really think they got us in this state to have us run along some half-deserted back roads of a quiet part of town?" As Stacey ran on, with her brown hair caught in the wind and flowing behind, and the wind ceaselessly pushing against her bare chest and crotch, she gave her companion a brave smile. Erin returned the smile briefly, and swept her own red locks out of her eyes. She pushed her shoulders back in a show of determination even as the old nervousness and embarrassment threatened to break through, aided by the relentless cold. Stacey gave Erin a friendly pat on the bottom in encouragement, as a distant pair of red lights guided the two naked beauties ever onwards into the night. ********** To be continued in 'Dress Off 4: The Rescue of Tess Trueheart".