Agent Lisa awoke slowly from a lovely dream, full of girls in bikinis rubbing each other with baby oil, and turned over in the black satin sheets on her bed. Her long ginger hair tumbled about her head. Just a few days into the three months' recuperation leave she had been given by a grateful Agency, she was already feeling fully recovered.
It had been a strange case, rescuing young scientific genius Sasha Zorn from the clutches of the sinister organisation known as Tash. Lisa had herself spent weeks as their prisoner, subject to the most mind-blowing treatments. Some of them had even been fun at the time, and certainly getting to know Sasha intimately had been wonderful. At the recollection, Lisa smiled; she would miss her a lot. Still, it was great to be home.
Ah well, it was no good staying in bed all day. She had to get up and go out. She climbed out and stood up. Had there been anyone with her in the bedroom, they would have had not the slightest difficulty in making out her slim but curvy figure through her diaphanous nightie. Her long, shapely legs would have been even more visible, as the nightie was barely long enough to cover her hips. Sadly for her, though, she had slept on her own.
After a quick breakfast of fruit juice, scrambled eggs and toast, she was back in th ebedroom, pondering what to wear.
It seemed to be a good day for her favourite black satin trousers. As always, she laid them out on the floor, lay down herself and began wriggling into them. This always took a lot of effort and a few minutes. Once she was more or less into them, she took a coat-hanger, hooked it into the zip fastener and slowly, slowly managed to pull the zip closed. Once that was done, she struggled until the button at the waist was done up, then buckled the very wide shiny black belt, pulling it to the last notch.
She stood up and looked in the mirror, and her green eyes glowed with pleasure at what she saw. The wide belt emphasised her narrow waist, and the tightness of the trousers indicated her waist-to-hip ratio and fully displayed her shapely thighs and calves. The trousers had no side pockets, as they would have been pulled out of shape. There were two pockets at the rear, but the tightness of the trousers meant that she could not get even a credit card into them. The lack of pockets was a little awkward, but it was worth it for the effect these trousers always had on passers by. She never got tired of seeing people turn their heads and gawp as she walked along.
Lisa carefully checked that her thong was not visible at the back. Showing her bottom was one thing, but she wasn't going to be vulgar!
These trousers went well with her black polo neck sweater. That was less of a struggle to get into, because while it was equally tight, especially over her ample breasts, it was quite stretchy. She pulled it down to her waist. It would, she knew, ride up and expose her midriff, but that was no problem, as the day was warm enough and she knew that whatever showed was washboard flat. The black contrasted with her pale, creamy complexion. She was so lucky, she thought. While many ginger girls had freckles, her skin was utterly flawless.
Obviously, she needed her boots. These were shiny black to match her belt, and had beautifully thin high heels. Being of no more than average height, she preferred heels that few girls could walk in to make herself taller. She spent several minutes tugging at the laces up the front to ensure that they fitted snugly all the way up her shapely calves to her knees.
Thus attired, she went on her way through the morning sunshine.
Having no particular errand to perform other than to enjoy the fresh air, Lisa meandered along slowly with no great sense of purpose. Her very high stiletto heels clacked along the pavement, and her bottom swayed from side to side. She smiled as she saw the familiar expressions on passers by. She turned right and wandered down an alleyway, a route she often took.
Suddenly, all went black! Most people would have panicked, but Lisa instantly and calmly grasped the situation. Someone had thrown a sheet over her; the sheet had weights around the edge to make it easy to throw. Lisa started to remove it, but strong arms gripped her from behind, pinioning her own arms to her sides. Simultaneously, she received an incredibly strong blow to her stomach, as if she had been hit by a battering ram. The blow knocked the breath from her body, and would have made her double up if the arms had not held her so strongly.
As she gasped in a breath, someone sprayed something in her face. Before she knew what had happened, she had sucked in a good lungful of the stuff. Another blow to the stomach again made her gasp and get another lungful. She was feeling very woozy now, and was unable to resist as she felt her ankles being manacled together and tight straps go round her calves, thighs, waist and body, imprisoning her tightly in the sheet.
The strong arms that had held her now hoisted her onto a shoulder, and she was carried a short distance somewhere and dropped onto a floor. More straps secured her to the floor. Then an engine started, the floor vibrated and she sensed that she was moving. She was in a lorry and being abducted. Again, Lisa felt no panic; this was scarcely the first time that this had happened to her. But who was responsible this time, and why?