Taylor walked into the bedroom. At 5'7" she was a tall stunning auburn haired woman with a perfect figure. Now dressed only in a purple bra and panties (high cut) she was if anything even more eye catching.
At 32 she was a high flyer with a very senior position in a Federal Agency. She reflected on this as she glared at the woman on the bed.
The woman was shorter that Taylor, with relatively small breasts, a mere 32B compared to the federal agent's 34D. Like Taylor the woman was dressed only in her underwear, a white bra and thong. Unlike Taylor she was securely tied to the bed. Her ankles bound together with white cotton rope, which in turn was cinched and fastened to the iron bars at the foot of the bed. Her hands were fastened in front of her, and similarly cinched. Rope also encircled her body and disappeared under the bed securely anchoring her to it. Her mouth was gagged with white cloth with a white bandage wrapped round her head to hold it in place.
White seemed to be her colour for the day.
How on earth could a woman trussed up and gagged be in complete control of the situation, Taylor wondered? Yet she was, and the senior agent had little choice but to go along with her wishes.
The gag might have prevented speech, but there was no mistaking the mischief in the diminutive brunettes' eyes, or the grin that was playing on her lips.
The bitch was really enjoying this.
"Well, you were right," snarled Taylor. "What do you want now?"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Two days previously
"There she is," whispered Jackson.
"You certain?" asked his companion; at 5'11 he was slightly shorter than his heavyset partner, but no weakling.
Both men were dressed in dark jackets and trousers. Both sported short cropped hair, as if they shared the same barber, but Jackson's thick dark hair contrasted with the light almost blonde colouring of his partner. Both carried pistols and other items useful for subduing or terminating uncooperative suspects.
The young woman they were observing reached the edge of the pavement outside the club, its loud music spilling out behind her.
The doorman followed her with appreciative eyes, which seemed fixed on the legs below what could only be described as a bright red microskirt. The tan coloured hose offering the tease of a glimpse of butt cheek. Suddenly a scuffle broke out behind the doorman: two drunken louts fighting in the doorway. With his attention diverted the two agents leapt out of their black sedan and lunged at the girl who was also watching the commotion. A black sack was thrown over her head and her arms yanked behind her wrists to be fastened together with black plastic ties.
Her muffled screams couldn't penetrate the wall of noise coming from the club and the two men were able to hoist her off the ground secure her ankles and wrap a scarf round her jaw pushing material from the sack into her mouth.
Bound, gagged and packaged into the car in less than thirty seconds!
"Decoy worked well," Jackson observed as they drove their captive to the safe house they had prepared.
"Nice to work with professionals," his colleague agreed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back at the safe house the two men removed first the gag then the hood from their prisoner. Both were more than a little surprised to find her face streaked with tears. The black lines flowing down her cheeks looked almost comical as her mascara mixed with the salty tears.
She was dumped onto the large double bed, the dominating feature of the room. Conveniently it was of a design which sported iron bars at the top and foot, almost as if it had been designed to tie prisoners to.
"Don't worry, we won't hurt you," the younger man assured her.
In response the young woman raised her eyebrows and looked up at the ceiling with her big brown eyes. She looked so attractive, so vulnerable and innocent that the man's heart almost melted.
Then she jerked her head round to her right arm. Even with the gag her shriek was pretty loud and the look of agony on her face was heart rending.
"You're hurt?"
She nodded.
He realised that the ropes pulling her hands behind her might be the problem, or simply the position they held her in.
"She's fooling you," Jackson assured him cynically. "Trying to get you to release her."
"Is that true?"
A furious mmpphing into the gag accompanied by a vigorous shaking of the head, convinced the younger man.
"If we tie your hands in front will that help?"
A nod, and those brown eyes looked into his, somehow conveying gratitude and trust in a way that words could never.
Jackson stared at her thoughtfully, but said nothing.
Carefully the young agent loosened the rope around her wrists, then with her hands loose very gently touched her right shoulder blade. She almost shot off the bed letting out another muffled scream.
"I'm so sorry," the agent apologised. "She really is hurt," he admonished his partner.
Slowly and very gently he guided her hands to the front of her body. With the palms together he wrapped the rope around her wrists cinching it off so that there was no possibility of her slipping out of the tie. The knots he tied underneath her wrists preventing her from attacking them with her mouth: if she ever got the gag off.
Her ankles were then secured to the foot of the bed.
Despite her treatment the girl looked at the men with no anger in her very expressive eyes. She didn't even seem upset now that she was no longer in pain. All in all it appeared that she had accepted her situation and was quietly relaxing in her captivity.
Jackson left the room to make coffee while the younger agent watched over the prisoner. When he returned a few minutes later it was to find the girl ungagged and his partner gently cleaning her face with a damp cloth.
"Chadwick, what do you think you're doing!" he demanded.
"Just checking she's OK sir," came the response. "Gemma's shoulder got damaged a couple of days ago and our treatment hasn't helped it at all."
The girl gazed at him with doe like eyes. Jackson felt like throwing up.
"Don't forget," he snarled, "that three of our agents are missing, probably dead because of her and her friends. And remember the type of people she is working for."
"I now, but it doesn't mean we have to be like them," Chadwick replied, and reluctantly shoved a fresh piece of cloth back in the girl's mouth, then secured it with a clean bandage. As he wrapped the bandage round her head he could swear she was giggling like a schoolgirl.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Jackson's cell phone rang.
"Yes, the package is secure," he responded t the voice on the other end of the call. "No we weren't followed: backup were tailing us to make sure.
"Fine, Yes.
"What! No way. Get a woman here to do that! All right but confirm that order in writing - a text will do."
Chadwick looked at him puzzled. The two men were sat in easy chairs in the front room of the house, while their captive slept. She had been allowed a bathroom break and a shower, and had been so cooperative that the senior agent was convinced she was trying to put them off their guard.
"We gotta search her," Jackson informed him.
"But we already have. There was nothing out of the ordinary in her purse, and there's no pockets on her skirt, and that lilac top is just too tight to conceal anything," Chadwick replied blushing slightly. That top was so tight he could see flimsy yellow her bra underneath it. Hell he had even seen that her nipples were hard. He reddened again.
"Our Lord and Master wants her to be searched thoroughly," the senior agent confirmed, "and you know what the means."
The prisoner's eyes widened and strong mmmphing could be clearly heard from behind her gag.
"I'm sorry," Chadwick explained. "It's normal procedure, and we don't have any female agents available at the moment."
The last statement was not entirely accurate, but both men remembered the difficulties that had followed when agent White had performed a strip search on a suspect in her own special way. Although later found to be innocent, the woman had never recovered from that experience, and was currently recovering in an institution, her treatment funded by the agency. Not surprisingly Agent White became known as Agent Orange after that.
Eyes glared at them over the gag.
"I'm going to remove your skirt first, but I'll try not to touch you inappropriately … " Chadwick began.
The prisoner's expression changed, and her body began to shake.
She was laughing at him!
Angrily he pulled down the zip at the side of her red skirt, then yanked it down to her ankles. Her bright yellow panties and hose followed. Putting the clothing on the bed beside her he searched through every inch it. To his surprise he found a small blade in the lining of the skirt.
He waved it in front of her face.
"You were going to use this to escape, weren't you? You weren't as badly hurt as you pretended. This is why you wanted your hands tied in front," he growled angrily.
"Mmmmpphh oooh," she responded shaking her head. "uu an ust eee."
"What?" Puzzled he pulled the gag down.
"No," she said softly. "You can trust me. I can help you, if you're after what I think."
He looked into her eyes trying to see any sign of deception. Surely those soft brown eyes couldn't belong to a liar, a thief, a traitor?
Confused and a little angry at himself he shoved the wad of cloth back into her mouth, and began to pull her top up
She screamed into the gag. The pain in her eyes was real.
"I'm sorry," mumbled. Her eyes were tearing up again, and it almost broke his heart to see her in such pain.
"Listen I'm going to untie your hands, and I'll help take off your top. It would help if you tell me anything else that you might have hidden in your clothing."
"Mmmm oww?" came the squealed response.
"Aaaah, yes the gag."
It suddenly occurred to him that although he and Jackson had removed the gag several times the prisoner had not once tried to scream, or even plead for release. She hadn't even asked them why they had grabbed her. It was clear she knew what this was about and had resigned herself to her fate.
It took a few minutes to carefully peel off the lilac coloured top; he had to be careful not to cause her damaged shoulder any more pain, Slipping the bra off was, if anything, easier and finally the prisoner was completely naked. A search revealed nothing more.
"Anything else I should know about he asked carefully, wishing that Jackson had returned from checking in with the boss.
"Well it's quite easy to hide a micro dot under a flesh coloured sticking plaster where you wouldn't notice it," she answered.
"OK, where?" he asked dreading the answer.
"Try my upper thigh," she responded.
Her eyes were definitely laughing now. She was enjoying this.
Defiantly he shoved his hands between her legs, just above the knees.
"Higher," she teased him
He brought his hand up slowly feeling delicately for any smooth plaster that might be difficult to spot with the naked eye.
"Higher."
He moved his hand up slowly, until he reached her pubic hair.
"There, now just feel around."
He did so, realising that he was getting hot and excited. God his manhood was like a rock.
"Don't stop, you've almost found it, aaaaah," she moaned.
What the hell! Her eyes were now unfocussed and soft moaning noises were coming from her lips.
With a shock he registered that it was no longer just her thighs he was feeling!
"Damn you," he swore. "You're playing me!"
"I think you were playing with me," she breathed. "But don't stop, please."
He yanked his hand back, and glared at her unable for a moment to think of anything to say. Agents weren't supposed to sexually molest their prisoners, unless ordered to do so.
"Aww," she complained. "I was enjoying that."
"You conniving little ...damn you."
He thrust the cloth back into her mouth and fastened the bandage tighter than usual ramming the cloth deep into her mouth. Strangely it seemed to take up more room than before, and her eyes opened wide in shock.
She looked so beautiful.
Next the bra was forced back on, despite her putting up some token resistance.
"Now I'm putting your panties back on and you can lie their in your underwear," he stormed, vaguely registering that as punishments went this wasn't particularly cruel.
He snatched the aforementioned garment from the bed looked at it with horror. It was a piece of white cloth. Then where had he put her panties?
He looked at her face.
"Erm, did I … " he began hesitantly.
She rolled her eyes upward. Nodded her head, and then began to shake. Her whole body shook uncontrollably her petite breasts shaking.
Was she crying?
No, behind the gag she was laughing at him. Again!
Gently he loosened the bandage around her head, and removed the yellow underwear from her mouth.
"Well you can't wear these now," he conceded, "not when they're wet. We'll get you a change of underwear soon - what are you measurements?"
She rolled her eyes again.
This was going to be an interesting period of captivity.
Next/i>