Sharkman
Governor
Should I swim? Or coming with my inflatable dinghy? My cruising yacht is sad to say confiscated.
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Sexpionage III
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
Well I wouldn’t swim, the laser sharks, don’t you know?
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Innocent Victim (6)
Land and Airspace surrounding the Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
They’d been permitted to share the live feed from the Tunisian drones and helmet cameras. In the crammed operations room Roger Moore watched along with the rest of the ops and analyst team as the twelve-man Tunisian Special Forces squad, including Major Underwood and Special Agent Miller, flew low and fast in two helicopters to hover over the building inside which Agent Anderson was being held.
When they were just a few feet from the flat surface of the roof, six men abseiled down from the first helicopter, like spiders dropping from their webs, and continued on foot to meet with the soldiers from the other chopper.
“This is it,” Jason said succinctly and without ambiguity, “We go in now as planned …”
Nods all around, including one from a fully armed Grace Miller.
After brief further and final reconnaissance, Jason gave a signal. Flash-bang grenades were hurled through the top floor windows, while men simultaneously entered from the roof, upper windows and doors.
There was a brief, confused firefight … bullets whistling across the air. One by one, in the terse operational signage of the Special Forces, it was confirmed that the hostiles were dead. There had still been no word of Agent Anderson.
Back in the ops room, it felt as if everyone was holding their breath. Then a soldier approached a big wooden box and ripped the top off. Inside was a hooded, virtually naked figure. The hood was removed, and Lacey’s dirty face appeared on the screens, dazed from the stun grenades but alive, her eyes silvery as a cat in the smoked infused hue of the cameras.
Back at HQ, an exultant cheer went up from dozens of throats at once. Moore shook hands with the entire team, grateful to have recovered his Agent, and of course his lover. Over his shoulder, he saw several of the team sink to the desks, heads in his hands, with relief.
Wellington Hospital South Building, The Wellington Hospital, St John’s Wood, London
Finally, Lacey awoke from the sedation. She was in a hospital bed, hooked up to all manner of wires and IVs, the beeping of medical monitors playing like a metronome, regular and steady.
Her body ached.
She felt like she’d cracked a rib or two, but her head didn’t seem to hurt as much as it had. The Agent reached up and touched the bandages wrapped around her forehead, and as dumb as it was, she couldn’t help but think about how unattractive she probably looked with them there.
Glancing to her side she saw Grace at her bedside, her head resting in her hands, her eyes closed. Lacey licked her lips, her throat dry and scratchy, and said quietly: “Thank you.”
Grace looked up, her eyes wide and smiled. “You might have made a bit of a mess of things, Agent Anderson” she said, “But there’s no way we were ever leaving you on your own.”
The cobwebs were starting to clear from Lacey’s head. “Am I going to be okay?” she asked.
“You’ve got a few broken ribs and had a concussion,” Grace replied, then paused before adding, “And … significant anal bruising …”
Lacey looked down before nodding knowingly.
“But the doctors tell me that with a little counselling, you’re going to be fine.”
“Thanks to you. You saved me.” Lacey felt tears form in her eyes. “But I’m kinda fucked now, career wise, right?”
“Oh Lacey,” Grace took her colleagues hands in hers, “There are some questions to be answered, but no, you’re most definitely not fucked …”
MI6 HQ, SIS Building, Vauxhall, London – two weeks after Lacey’s release from hospital
It didn’t help that Lacey had to keep re-living the events that had led up to what had happened. She’d been grilled and interrogated and debriefed several times round the block. Within hours of the rescue-attack, a Tunisian clean-up crew had been dispatched and hoovered up the remaining bodies and intel from that building. The actual outcome of the whole thing had been a huge win for the Agency.
She was still in hospital when the questions started coming, and, after she’s been treated for her injuries and general mal-treatment, she was discharged under arrest and returned to HQ to face the music.
The door to the small dark room with the large one-way viewing window, opened and in stepped the Head of the MI6 Academy Operation, Major Luke Willoughby, his face grim. Lacey got to her feet as he approached … the day she’d been forced to give him a blow job in his office to ‘prove’ herself whilst still a trainee, flashed through her mind (see The Scandinavian Affair - The Graduate).
He stopped before the anxious, young Agent, forcing them to share an agonizing moment of silence. “They’re placing you on Administrative Leave,” he said.
Lacey nodded. She had figured as much … suspension while they investigated.
“For how long?” she asked.
“Indefinitely,” he replied. I
It felt like a cold knife had been plunged into her heart, and it took everything she had to keep from crying.
“Please hand over your ID, Agent Anderson. Your suspension begins immediately.”
To Be Continued …
Land and Airspace surrounding the Alrueb Detention Block, A Daesh secure building at In-Amenas, Eastern Algeria on the Libyan border
They’d been permitted to share the live feed from the Tunisian drones and helmet cameras. In the crammed operations room Roger Moore watched along with the rest of the ops and analyst team as the twelve-man Tunisian Special Forces squad, including Major Underwood and Special Agent Miller, flew low and fast in two helicopters to hover over the building inside which Agent Anderson was being held.
When they were just a few feet from the flat surface of the roof, six men abseiled down from the first helicopter, like spiders dropping from their webs, and continued on foot to meet with the soldiers from the other chopper.
“This is it,” Jason said succinctly and without ambiguity, “We go in now as planned …”
Nods all around, including one from a fully armed Grace Miller.
After brief further and final reconnaissance, Jason gave a signal. Flash-bang grenades were hurled through the top floor windows, while men simultaneously entered from the roof, upper windows and doors.
There was a brief, confused firefight … bullets whistling across the air. One by one, in the terse operational signage of the Special Forces, it was confirmed that the hostiles were dead. There had still been no word of Agent Anderson.
Back in the ops room, it felt as if everyone was holding their breath. Then a soldier approached a big wooden box and ripped the top off. Inside was a hooded, virtually naked figure. The hood was removed, and Lacey’s dirty face appeared on the screens, dazed from the stun grenades but alive, her eyes silvery as a cat in the smoked infused hue of the cameras.
Back at HQ, an exultant cheer went up from dozens of throats at once. Moore shook hands with the entire team, grateful to have recovered his Agent, and of course his lover. Over his shoulder, he saw several of the team sink to the desks, heads in his hands, with relief.
Wellington Hospital South Building, The Wellington Hospital, St John’s Wood, London
Finally, Lacey awoke from the sedation. She was in a hospital bed, hooked up to all manner of wires and IVs, the beeping of medical monitors playing like a metronome, regular and steady.
Her body ached.
She felt like she’d cracked a rib or two, but her head didn’t seem to hurt as much as it had. The Agent reached up and touched the bandages wrapped around her forehead, and as dumb as it was, she couldn’t help but think about how unattractive she probably looked with them there.
Glancing to her side she saw Grace at her bedside, her head resting in her hands, her eyes closed. Lacey licked her lips, her throat dry and scratchy, and said quietly: “Thank you.”
Grace looked up, her eyes wide and smiled. “You might have made a bit of a mess of things, Agent Anderson” she said, “But there’s no way we were ever leaving you on your own.”
The cobwebs were starting to clear from Lacey’s head. “Am I going to be okay?” she asked.
“You’ve got a few broken ribs and had a concussion,” Grace replied, then paused before adding, “And … significant anal bruising …”
Lacey looked down before nodding knowingly.
“But the doctors tell me that with a little counselling, you’re going to be fine.”
“Thanks to you. You saved me.” Lacey felt tears form in her eyes. “But I’m kinda fucked now, career wise, right?”
“Oh Lacey,” Grace took her colleagues hands in hers, “There are some questions to be answered, but no, you’re most definitely not fucked …”
MI6 HQ, SIS Building, Vauxhall, London – two weeks after Lacey’s release from hospital
It didn’t help that Lacey had to keep re-living the events that had led up to what had happened. She’d been grilled and interrogated and debriefed several times round the block. Within hours of the rescue-attack, a Tunisian clean-up crew had been dispatched and hoovered up the remaining bodies and intel from that building. The actual outcome of the whole thing had been a huge win for the Agency.
She was still in hospital when the questions started coming, and, after she’s been treated for her injuries and general mal-treatment, she was discharged under arrest and returned to HQ to face the music.
The door to the small dark room with the large one-way viewing window, opened and in stepped the Head of the MI6 Academy Operation, Major Luke Willoughby, his face grim. Lacey got to her feet as he approached … the day she’d been forced to give him a blow job in his office to ‘prove’ herself whilst still a trainee, flashed through her mind (see The Scandinavian Affair - The Graduate).
He stopped before the anxious, young Agent, forcing them to share an agonizing moment of silence. “They’re placing you on Administrative Leave,” he said.
Lacey nodded. She had figured as much … suspension while they investigated.
“For how long?” she asked.
“Indefinitely,” he replied. I
It felt like a cold knife had been plunged into her heart, and it took everything she had to keep from crying.
“Please hand over your ID, Agent Anderson. Your suspension begins immediately.”
To Be Continued …
Abseiled from the choppers? So that means Jase and Grace deliberately abseiled into the treetops?
And no fair snatching up Lacey before @Sharkman and I could have her fun. Now I’m going to have to kidnap @Lace from England directly. However, in good news for us, I’ve seen how well Mi6 keeps track of suspended agents in the past so old Sharks and I shall have plenty of time for @Lace ‘s education
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Abseiled from the choppers, 'chuted from the planes, Loin' my friend
...
You don’t think Lacey will jump at the chance for an all-expenses paid “holiday” to SharkLoin Island?
twonines
LIMERICUS
"You never know, we may have to rescue that foolish Moore girl again"
Lace
Assistant executioner
Mister @Loinclothslave and Mister @Sharkman it seems that @Fossy is happy for me to suffer some more. So if you both want to create a personal message convo for the three of us then you can tell me what you both would like to do to me, and how you would do it. I'm shivering with excitement already.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
old slave
FELIS RESPICIENS
I give it two more posts..............(but four for anal)
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Innocent Victim (7)
The Country Residence of Roger Moore, Head of the UK MI6. On Dartmoor in the County of Devon – four weeks after Lacey’s Suspension had started.
The ‘suspended from duty’ Agent, Lacey Anderson was strapped to some sort of table; arms outstretched, chest pressed to the smooth surface, knees bent and separated, ass in the air.
“You know this a spanking bench, don’t you Agent Anderson.” The male voice spoke quietly yet also with an air of dominant assertion.
“Yes,” the bound girl whispered and closed her eyes.
“I could have made you stand, legs spread, and then tied your wrists to your ankles; better access for what I have in mind. But the blood rushing to your head would eventually make you too dizzy to answer my questions.”
He made an agonisingly slow circuit around his captive, hands behind his back as though on an evening stroll. A twist of her head brought attention to a low silver table. On it sat a wicked-looking serrated-edged knife and a bamboo cane.
“Did the Daesh keep you stripped … totally naked?” As he spoke the words, Roger Moore gripped the burgeoning bulge at his groin.
“Oh God, yes, yes they did …” his captive lover’s voice was weak.
He stopped in front of her, crouched so they were eye level. The move made it difficult for Lacey to look beyond his face and see the ‘Master’ within.
“Did they rape you?”
“Y … yes.”
“Where?”
“Huh?”
“Where, I mean how …”
“Oh fuck, please don’t …”
“Tell me Anderson.”
“My ass, over and over they fucked my ass, and then …”
She held his gaze.
“Then what …” he prompted.
“Then they pushed the electric prod into me there too …”
With a quiet groan he stood and she felt his hand sweep down her back to cup her mound.
“Wet already huh? Does talking about this turn you on?”
“What, fuck, no … Sir …”
“I think it does Anderson.”
“Oh God …” Lacey blasphemed and squirmed as two fingers slid into her open pussy to circle around her inner core.
A slow smile spread on Moore’s face before he stepped back to look down at her. Then, once again he placed his hand on her back. She shuddered at the contact, struggled against the bonds.
“I like it when you squirm, girl.”
She stiffened and he continued. “Did you suck them?”
“Y … yes Sir,”
“And swallow?”
“Fuck … yes Sir.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that, for its lack of menace, shook her to her core. He sounded genuinely amused.
“And did they make you cum huh Lacey?”
Now she felt the humiliation stimulate her deeply as she relived the degrading orgasms they had forced from her captive body.
“Did they?”
“Yes, they did.”
“You mean they made you climax, despite the fact that you were being held captive, bound and debased?”
“Yes …”
Moore’s hard on was raging … and his girl was so damn wet …
His hand moved from her back and skimmed over her hip. She bit her lip, determined to take whatever “punishment” he dealt out.
Her Master’s palm smoothed over her ass then vanished from her skin. Lacey didn’t look up, wouldn’t give him the notion that she was concerned about anything he could or would do.
Then she sensed him before seeing him as he knelt in front of her again, forcing Lacey’s gaze to the large knife he held in his grip. He disappeared from view; and she gasped as the tip of the blade touched her skin, slid meticulously across bare shoulders. Lacey inhaled sharply, preparing for whatever he did next. But it was his bare hand that returned to her bottom, a soft caress, then smack!
Moore slapped her hard on the right cheek. Lacey dropped her head to the smooth wood, shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t make a sound. Another blow to the opposite cheek, and she grunted slightly, then arched her back to tug at the bindings. Damn, this made her ass sting!
Moore feathered his lips across the hand marked flesh. Her breath hitched and he stopped. Four more blows struck her bottom before Lacey gasped.
A pause before he doled out another spanking; and another, and another until a volley of blows peppered Lacey’s ass in rapid succession. Her belly clenched, pussy fluttering. The pain made her dizzy with desire.
Moore chuckled. “I think you like this, Lacey.” His hand passed over her ass, sliding towards her exposed and glistening mound, fingers slipping inside the bound girl’s swollen, wet labia. Lacey struggled for breath, shivering beneath his touch. A minute passed, and then another with her Master’s touch remaining idle. No movement, no stimulation, despite her vain attempt to hump his invasive digits.
The waiting turned torturous, as she got wetter by the second, and she couldn’t have stopped the whimper if she wanted to, wriggling her hips to get more pressure on her hard and needy little nub.
Moore leaned in so that his chest pressed to the bound girl’s back, brushed her hair off her shoulder and whispered, “I’m going to spank that pretty ass of yours until you cum for me, Princess.”
Lacey whimpered.
He nuzzled her neck, licked behind her ear. “And then, I’ll put my tongue in your pussy and eat the flesh from your lips until you do it again. Is that what you want?”
A soft mewl escaped her throat.
“Or, should I just finger you?”
Fuuuuckkkkk! Lacey’s head dropped forward as she fought the lust consuming her.
“Or maybe …” he lifted his torso and surged forward, rubbing the bulge of his hard dick against her mound with a slow, sensual undulation of his hips, “… maybe I should just fuck you, hard and fast in that tight little hole. Want me to fuck you, Princess?”
Lacey bit her lip and whimpered. With his cock teasing her, all she could think was that she wanted it all. She pushed back as far as the constraints would allow, and he brought his hand down hard on her left ass cheek, commanding her,
“Tell me, Agent.”
“Huh … did you call me Agent?”
Roger Moore laughed, pleased with the creative way in which he was telling the young Agent, his submissive lover, that her suspension was over and she had been found not guilty of all prospective charges.
“I did, Agent Anderson … welcome back!”
Lacey smiled as her Master spoke again. “So, what’s it to be girl?”
“Oh God yes, please…fuck me, Master.”
He shifted, hands firmly gripping his captive’s waist while he continued to grind against her body. She shuddered and moaned, equal parts frustrated and aroused at being helpless to his ministrations. Finally, large palms smoothed up her back and then moved outward down her arms.
He lay against her so tightly she could feel his heart pounding as he freed his erection from the confines of his suit pants and thrust hard into her body …
This brings to an end the latest series of Sexpionage – Redemption. All is well again … Grace is back in the arms of her lover, Jase, and Lacey is also where she wants to be, under the strict discipline of her Boss, Master and paramour …
The team will be taking a short break now to rest and recuperate but we will be back before you know it! Thank you all for your wonderful support and we will see you all again very soon.
The Country Residence of Roger Moore, Head of the UK MI6. On Dartmoor in the County of Devon – four weeks after Lacey’s Suspension had started.
The ‘suspended from duty’ Agent, Lacey Anderson was strapped to some sort of table; arms outstretched, chest pressed to the smooth surface, knees bent and separated, ass in the air.
“You know this a spanking bench, don’t you Agent Anderson.” The male voice spoke quietly yet also with an air of dominant assertion.
“Yes,” the bound girl whispered and closed her eyes.
“I could have made you stand, legs spread, and then tied your wrists to your ankles; better access for what I have in mind. But the blood rushing to your head would eventually make you too dizzy to answer my questions.”
He made an agonisingly slow circuit around his captive, hands behind his back as though on an evening stroll. A twist of her head brought attention to a low silver table. On it sat a wicked-looking serrated-edged knife and a bamboo cane.
“Did the Daesh keep you stripped … totally naked?” As he spoke the words, Roger Moore gripped the burgeoning bulge at his groin.
“Oh God, yes, yes they did …” his captive lover’s voice was weak.
He stopped in front of her, crouched so they were eye level. The move made it difficult for Lacey to look beyond his face and see the ‘Master’ within.
“Did they rape you?”
“Y … yes.”
“Where?”
“Huh?”
“Where, I mean how …”
“Oh fuck, please don’t …”
“Tell me Anderson.”
“My ass, over and over they fucked my ass, and then …”
She held his gaze.
“Then what …” he prompted.
“Then they pushed the electric prod into me there too …”
With a quiet groan he stood and she felt his hand sweep down her back to cup her mound.
“Wet already huh? Does talking about this turn you on?”
“What, fuck, no … Sir …”
“I think it does Anderson.”
“Oh God …” Lacey blasphemed and squirmed as two fingers slid into her open pussy to circle around her inner core.
A slow smile spread on Moore’s face before he stepped back to look down at her. Then, once again he placed his hand on her back. She shuddered at the contact, struggled against the bonds.
“I like it when you squirm, girl.”
She stiffened and he continued. “Did you suck them?”
“Y … yes Sir,”
“And swallow?”
“Fuck … yes Sir.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that, for its lack of menace, shook her to her core. He sounded genuinely amused.
“And did they make you cum huh Lacey?”
Now she felt the humiliation stimulate her deeply as she relived the degrading orgasms they had forced from her captive body.
“Did they?”
“Yes, they did.”
“You mean they made you climax, despite the fact that you were being held captive, bound and debased?”
“Yes …”
Moore’s hard on was raging … and his girl was so damn wet …
His hand moved from her back and skimmed over her hip. She bit her lip, determined to take whatever “punishment” he dealt out.
Her Master’s palm smoothed over her ass then vanished from her skin. Lacey didn’t look up, wouldn’t give him the notion that she was concerned about anything he could or would do.
Then she sensed him before seeing him as he knelt in front of her again, forcing Lacey’s gaze to the large knife he held in his grip. He disappeared from view; and she gasped as the tip of the blade touched her skin, slid meticulously across bare shoulders. Lacey inhaled sharply, preparing for whatever he did next. But it was his bare hand that returned to her bottom, a soft caress, then smack!
Moore slapped her hard on the right cheek. Lacey dropped her head to the smooth wood, shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t make a sound. Another blow to the opposite cheek, and she grunted slightly, then arched her back to tug at the bindings. Damn, this made her ass sting!
Moore feathered his lips across the hand marked flesh. Her breath hitched and he stopped. Four more blows struck her bottom before Lacey gasped.
A pause before he doled out another spanking; and another, and another until a volley of blows peppered Lacey’s ass in rapid succession. Her belly clenched, pussy fluttering. The pain made her dizzy with desire.
Moore chuckled. “I think you like this, Lacey.” His hand passed over her ass, sliding towards her exposed and glistening mound, fingers slipping inside the bound girl’s swollen, wet labia. Lacey struggled for breath, shivering beneath his touch. A minute passed, and then another with her Master’s touch remaining idle. No movement, no stimulation, despite her vain attempt to hump his invasive digits.
The waiting turned torturous, as she got wetter by the second, and she couldn’t have stopped the whimper if she wanted to, wriggling her hips to get more pressure on her hard and needy little nub.
Moore leaned in so that his chest pressed to the bound girl’s back, brushed her hair off her shoulder and whispered, “I’m going to spank that pretty ass of yours until you cum for me, Princess.”
Lacey whimpered.
He nuzzled her neck, licked behind her ear. “And then, I’ll put my tongue in your pussy and eat the flesh from your lips until you do it again. Is that what you want?”
A soft mewl escaped her throat.
“Or, should I just finger you?”
Fuuuuckkkkk! Lacey’s head dropped forward as she fought the lust consuming her.
“Or maybe …” he lifted his torso and surged forward, rubbing the bulge of his hard dick against her mound with a slow, sensual undulation of his hips, “… maybe I should just fuck you, hard and fast in that tight little hole. Want me to fuck you, Princess?”
Lacey bit her lip and whimpered. With his cock teasing her, all she could think was that she wanted it all. She pushed back as far as the constraints would allow, and he brought his hand down hard on her left ass cheek, commanding her,
“Tell me, Agent.”
“Huh … did you call me Agent?”
Roger Moore laughed, pleased with the creative way in which he was telling the young Agent, his submissive lover, that her suspension was over and she had been found not guilty of all prospective charges.
“I did, Agent Anderson … welcome back!”
Lacey smiled as her Master spoke again. “So, what’s it to be girl?”
“Oh God yes, please…fuck me, Master.”
He shifted, hands firmly gripping his captive’s waist while he continued to grind against her body. She shuddered and moaned, equal parts frustrated and aroused at being helpless to his ministrations. Finally, large palms smoothed up her back and then moved outward down her arms.
He lay against her so tightly she could feel his heart pounding as he freed his erection from the confines of his suit pants and thrust hard into her body …
This brings to an end the latest series of Sexpionage – Redemption. All is well again … Grace is back in the arms of her lover, Jase, and Lacey is also where she wants to be, under the strict discipline of her Boss, Master and paramour …
The team will be taking a short break now to rest and recuperate but we will be back before you know it! Thank you all for your wonderful support and we will see you all again very soon.
twonines
LIMERICUS
No, thank you for making the long hot summer even hotter, and Lace for suffering so delightfully.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Always a pleasure 99. Thanks for following my friend.
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
Never wrong my old friend, all options always a possibility right up until the very end ... and thanks for the suggestion old one, clearly thought up in an upbeat moment whilst gazing out over the dry plains and dwindling water levels of Scammonden Dam
...