Lace
Assistant executioner
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Sexpionage III
- Thread starter Fossy
- Start date
She should bite it....
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
You would think, right Wraggster, but when you consider her state of mind, her exhaustion, the total breaking of her body and soul, then such an action, which would lead to nothing but momentary self gratification, would seem underwhelming and relatively meaningless ...She should bite it....
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
... but equally, it's exactly what a lot of girls in Lacey's position would do!She should bite it....
Mentioning no names, of course...
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
The Graduate (4)
Somewhere in the UK. Location Unknown …
This time when they came back, Smoker pulled a much bigger cattle-prod out of his bag. A thick cable protruded from the end, which he attached to something that looked like a car battery. When he turned it on, the tip sparked and smoked.
“One last time. What is the name of your training instructor? How many trainees are in your program? What is the password to your login on the MI6 training site?”
Lacey stared blankly ahead, still as a statue. When Smoker moved the cattle prod toward one of her breasts, she didn’t even flinch. Smoker paused, then motioned for Red Shirt to switch the battery power off. He handed the cattle prod to his partner than shook his head sadly.
“You know what? I don’t think this bitch will ever talk. Go tell them it’s time.”
“What?” Lacey’s voice quivered. Was this where she died? Panic rose from the pit of her stomach.
Red Shirt left the container as Smoker untied Lacey from the chair before helping her onto her unsteady feet. She had no strength left to fight or object and so as he took her elbow the young girl let the man lead her out of the container to the place, she presumed, of her impending death.
It was late morning and the sun was fully up, the dirt field and the little cabin bathed in pinkish light. Something was different, though. Half a dozen vehicles were parked nearby, including an ambulance. As Lacey stood there confused, Smoker, with an uncharacteristic show of care, placed a white towelling robe over her shoulders. The cabin door opened and people started filing out. Faces she knew. All her instructors from the Academy. The last person in line was the Head of Training, Luke Willoughby, who placed a gentle hand on Lacey’s shoulder.
“Congratulations, Agent Anderson. You passed your training and graduated with honours. Welcome to MI6.”
As Willoughby and the others started clapping, Lacey was so shocked that the fact she was standing virtually naked before this crowd of familiar faces didn’t even register. She turned in a slow circle, taking everything in, and as her eyes fell on Smoker and Red Shirt, her jaw dropped.
They had pulled off their ski masks, and though Lacey still did not recognise them, they were clapping along with the others, but still the young girl felt more than a little nauseous as Red-shirt grinned, winking his eye, no doubt recalling his violation of her body in the name of ‘instruction’.
An MI6 doctor and nurse were part of the group, and they took Lacey inside the cabin for an immediate medical inspection. After the medics had spent long enough poking and prodding at Lacey’s body, Willoughby personally delivered a huge plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, along with a ‘gallon’ of water, which the girl devoured. Lacey was deemed medically sound but the doctor wanted her hospitalised for 24 hours with an IV drip to make sure her observations returned to normal.
The newly qualified Agent was ready to comply fully with whatever medical procedures were available to her, but only after she had been allowed some privacy inside the cabin to use the shower.
It took a while for reality to sink in. As Lacey shuffled around the tiny bathroom waiting for the water to get warm, she could almost believe the last few days had been nothing but a nightmare infused dream. But then she caught her reflection in the mirror and stared at her naked body, streaked with sweat and dirt. She ran a hand over her breasts, down her stomach, then between her thighs. As her fingers explored, Lacey realised that she still had dried semen all over her legs and abdomen.
As she locked eyes with her image, she made herself a promise. She might have signed up to use her body as a tool and a weapon, but from now on, it would always be on her own terms. If she took a cock into her pussy or her mouth, or even up her ass, it would be her choice and no one else’s. If her legs spread, she’d be the one who spread them. Her life, her choice.
Although she had now graduated, Lacey Anderson still had so much to learn …
To Be Continued …
Somewhere in the UK. Location Unknown …
This time when they came back, Smoker pulled a much bigger cattle-prod out of his bag. A thick cable protruded from the end, which he attached to something that looked like a car battery. When he turned it on, the tip sparked and smoked.
“One last time. What is the name of your training instructor? How many trainees are in your program? What is the password to your login on the MI6 training site?”
Lacey stared blankly ahead, still as a statue. When Smoker moved the cattle prod toward one of her breasts, she didn’t even flinch. Smoker paused, then motioned for Red Shirt to switch the battery power off. He handed the cattle prod to his partner than shook his head sadly.
“You know what? I don’t think this bitch will ever talk. Go tell them it’s time.”
“What?” Lacey’s voice quivered. Was this where she died? Panic rose from the pit of her stomach.
Red Shirt left the container as Smoker untied Lacey from the chair before helping her onto her unsteady feet. She had no strength left to fight or object and so as he took her elbow the young girl let the man lead her out of the container to the place, she presumed, of her impending death.
It was late morning and the sun was fully up, the dirt field and the little cabin bathed in pinkish light. Something was different, though. Half a dozen vehicles were parked nearby, including an ambulance. As Lacey stood there confused, Smoker, with an uncharacteristic show of care, placed a white towelling robe over her shoulders. The cabin door opened and people started filing out. Faces she knew. All her instructors from the Academy. The last person in line was the Head of Training, Luke Willoughby, who placed a gentle hand on Lacey’s shoulder.
“Congratulations, Agent Anderson. You passed your training and graduated with honours. Welcome to MI6.”
As Willoughby and the others started clapping, Lacey was so shocked that the fact she was standing virtually naked before this crowd of familiar faces didn’t even register. She turned in a slow circle, taking everything in, and as her eyes fell on Smoker and Red Shirt, her jaw dropped.
They had pulled off their ski masks, and though Lacey still did not recognise them, they were clapping along with the others, but still the young girl felt more than a little nauseous as Red-shirt grinned, winking his eye, no doubt recalling his violation of her body in the name of ‘instruction’.
An MI6 doctor and nurse were part of the group, and they took Lacey inside the cabin for an immediate medical inspection. After the medics had spent long enough poking and prodding at Lacey’s body, Willoughby personally delivered a huge plate of eggs, bacon, and toast, along with a ‘gallon’ of water, which the girl devoured. Lacey was deemed medically sound but the doctor wanted her hospitalised for 24 hours with an IV drip to make sure her observations returned to normal.
The newly qualified Agent was ready to comply fully with whatever medical procedures were available to her, but only after she had been allowed some privacy inside the cabin to use the shower.
It took a while for reality to sink in. As Lacey shuffled around the tiny bathroom waiting for the water to get warm, she could almost believe the last few days had been nothing but a nightmare infused dream. But then she caught her reflection in the mirror and stared at her naked body, streaked with sweat and dirt. She ran a hand over her breasts, down her stomach, then between her thighs. As her fingers explored, Lacey realised that she still had dried semen all over her legs and abdomen.
As she locked eyes with her image, she made herself a promise. She might have signed up to use her body as a tool and a weapon, but from now on, it would always be on her own terms. If she took a cock into her pussy or her mouth, or even up her ass, it would be her choice and no one else’s. If her legs spread, she’d be the one who spread them. Her life, her choice.
Although she had now graduated, Lacey Anderson still had so much to learn …
To Be Continued …
Well. Probably just as well she didn't!She should bite it....
As you may have guessed, Fossy, I certainly didn't see that turn in the plot coming!
Lace
Assistant executioner
I was so close to doing just that WraggShe should bite it....
Lace
Assistant executioner
Fossy!! You have no idea how shocked I was when this happened. Very relieved too though.
But I did … I mean the possibility did cross my warped little mind. In a story I wrote with @windar, “Last Liaison in Lyon,” agent Barb Moore was trained as an agent and forced to endure in training what might occur should she be captured … the difference though being that she knew while Lacey did not.Well. Probably just as well she didn't!
As you may have guessed, Fossy, I certainly didn't see that turn in the plot coming!
I’m any case, Fossy pulled this off brilliantly! Very well done. Can’t wait to see how Lacey fares on her first real assignment and whether she’ll be able to actually keep those promises she has made to herself.
Sharkman
Governor
Great starting, @Fossy. I didn't expect it but more and more I hoped for @Lace it's just a final test before starting her adventures. We have the honor to read with interest the unconventional education methods of HQ. For sure it based on old Dino Moore. He had planted indeed his 'seed'. @Lace, it's really better to "Die Another Day (2002)".
Fossy
SEXPIOGENTUS
The Graduate (5)
MI6 Academy, Fort Monckton, Portsmouth, UK
“Thank you for coming back to see us, Agent Anderson,” Luke Willoughby said, emphasising her newly appointed job title as he waved Lacey into a chair.
“Sure, no problem. I was just surprised to be called back so early after my graduation, that’s all. What was it that you wanted to see me about?”
Willoughby rubbed his chin as he stared at Lacey from across his polished oak desk. He smiled at the fact she did not address him as ‘Sir’ and raised his eyebrows at the newly graduated Agent. “You met Roger Moore, I understand?”
Lacey had been introduced to Moore at the SIS HQ the same day that she first left the Fort Monckton Academy, and recalled how he had been reviewing her documented report while she stood in his office. It wasn’t quite the most awkward moment of her young life, but it wasn’t far off (see Agent Provocateur).
“Yes Sir, I did.”
“Well, he has asked me to personally run a few more tests past you.”
“Tests … Sir?”
“Did you not wonder why Mister Moore wanted to see you, Agent Anderson?”
Lacey could have answered facetiously and said something about wanting to ogle her body and stare at her breasts, but she thought better of it.
“Yes Sir, now you come to mention it, I did.”
“Well, he has something in mind for you Agent Anderson, and he needs me to take you through a few routine workouts first?”
“First?” Lacey repeated, but Willoughby was giving nothing more away. “… I can fetch a change of clothes for you and we can do it right now.” He continued.
Lacey sputtered out a yes, still a little surprised at this turn of events, and she soon found herself in the main gym changing room holding a pair of navy-blue gym shorts and a matching t-shirt with a small MI6 logo over the left breast. She quickly changed and headed out to the large gymnasium. It wasn’t empty … men and women were lifting weights, riding exercise bikes, or walking on treadmills. In one corner of the gym, which had thick mats on the floor, a small group was engaged in light hand-to-hand combat.
Along with one of the agency’s trainers, Willoughby walked Lacey through a set of exercises to test her strength and endurance. The trainer seemed happy with Lacey’s performance, and afterwards Willoughby took her to the padded corner of the gym to spar with another female agent. Lacey used her judo moves to flip the woman to the mat over and over, and she even held her own against a male agent who was taller and heavier.
Once the workout was over, Lacey showered and changed back into her street clothes, whereupon she was returned to Willoughby’s office.
“Good,” was the word the Academy Head spoke as she took the offered seat. What that implied Lacey had no idea, other than she assumed that she ‘passed’.
“So, is that it … Sir?” Agent Anderson asked.
Willoughby sat back in his seat and exhaled. “Not quite, there is something else we need to talk about.”
“Oh …” The confused girl responded.
“I’d like a little more information about your, erm, personal life. Do you mind telling me how many men you’ve slept with?”
Lacey’s face went red. “Actually, I do mind. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m sorry Agent Anderson, but I must insist that you answer my question.”
Lacey let out an irritated sigh then shrugged. “Just one Sir, actually no wait, make that three after those goons who abducted me …”
Willoughby nodded apologetically. “What does it mean to you … sex?’
“What? I erm don’t really know. I don’t attach a lot of importance to it. It’s like seeing a movie. It’s fun while it’s happening, but a few days later I don’t remember much about it.”
“Do you currently have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
“Not really.”
“That’s surprising, because you’re a very beautiful girl.”
“And beautiful girls can’t be single and independent?”
Willoughby shuffled the papers on his desk. “Did you love the man you slept with?”
Lacey thought back to her High School teacher, Kurt Harbinger (see Lacey’s first time), and then replied, “No.”
“So having sex with someone you don’t love isn’t an issue for you.”
“Obviously not. Now when are you going to tell me what all of this has to do with … Sir?”
Willoughby leaned back in his chair and laced his hands over his stomach. “Mister Moore has a mission for you. It requires a female Agent working alone.”
“And he wants me?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Well, I’m flattered, but it sounds like a job for a more experienced Agent, so …”
“Where are your parents from originally Agent Anderson?”
“Erm, Malmo in Sweden.”
“Are you Swedish?”
“I guess, I mean I was born there, but …”
“Do you speak Swedish?”
“Yes, fluently, but …”
“The mission is in Stockholm, Agent Anderson, that’s why the boss needs you.”
Lacey nodded; she was beginning to understand. “So, I guess I have no choice then if I’m to follow orders?”
Luke Willoughby nodded.
“So, will that be all, Sir?’
Willoughby smiled. “Almost, but not quite. The next thing I need you to do is strip so I can make sure you don’t have any scars, birthmarks, or other bodily colourations.”
Lacey just stared. “You’re joking, right?”
The smile slid from Willoughby’s face and he crossed his arms over his chest, the body language saying Do I look like I’m joking? “You will be a Swedish Escort Girl Agent Anderson, and you will need a convincing back story, so please, remove your clothes so I can take the required notes.”
Lacey knew she had a great body and never felt self-conscious about showing it, but stripping naked in her erstwhile boss’s brightly lit office in the middle of the day so he could make notes just seemed creepy. But she also knew the MI6 wouldn’t hire her as a honey-trap without being absolutely certain about every aspect of her. The young Agent knew there was no way to get out of this.
So how is this supposed to go? Slow and sexy like a striptease, or quick and simple like I’m at the doctor’s surgery? Lacey’s head suddenly spun.
Because Willoughby was already glancing at his watch, Lacey decided on the second option. Biting her lip, she stood up and reached for the buttons on her blouse. Informally dressed, Lacey wore a white button-down shirt and tight faded blue denim jeans, and she stared at a spot above Willoughby’s head as she unfastened the shirt then dropped it on her chair, exposing her pink lace bra … all that now covered her ample breasts.
Turning sideways she flicked open the button of her jeans and pulled the zipper down before wriggling her way free of the denim. The bra went next, followed quickly by the thong, and soon Lacey stood stark naked with her arms hanging loose at her sides, ready for ‘inspection’.
Willoughby tried to show no emotion, but his cock was so hard he had to shift positions in his chair to ease the ache. His voice came out low and rough as he asked the girl to turn around, which she did.
Holy shit, the Academy Head thought, her body isn’t just great, it’s perfect; those breasts, those legs, that amazing ass, and all of it wrapped in skin as smooth as satin. He asked her to face him again, and now her perfect body was back on full-frontal display.
“Okay that’s fine,” he croaked as dispassionately as he could manage.
The beginnings of a smile crept onto Lacey’s face. I’m just ‘fine’? she thought. Sure, and that’s why you look like you’re about to have a heart attack, you perve.
“Now I have another test for you,” Willoughby said. “No, leave them, you’re fine the way you are,” he added as the girl reached for her clothes.
Lacey dropped her blouse again. “What kind of test requires me to be naked?”
“A test of cunning and resourcefulness. I want to see how fast you can think on your feet and handle a critical situation at a moment’s notice.” He stood and walked to the front of the desk, then perched on the edge of it with his legs slightly spread. “Imagine you’re alone in a room with a Senior Military Officer who’s about to meet with the Chinese and sell them the blueprints of our latest stealth bomber. You need to distract him for 20 minutes so he misses that rendezvous. Show me how you’d do it.”
“Y … you mean here? Now?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
To Be Continued …
MI6 Academy, Fort Monckton, Portsmouth, UK
“Thank you for coming back to see us, Agent Anderson,” Luke Willoughby said, emphasising her newly appointed job title as he waved Lacey into a chair.
“Sure, no problem. I was just surprised to be called back so early after my graduation, that’s all. What was it that you wanted to see me about?”
Willoughby rubbed his chin as he stared at Lacey from across his polished oak desk. He smiled at the fact she did not address him as ‘Sir’ and raised his eyebrows at the newly graduated Agent. “You met Roger Moore, I understand?”
Lacey had been introduced to Moore at the SIS HQ the same day that she first left the Fort Monckton Academy, and recalled how he had been reviewing her documented report while she stood in his office. It wasn’t quite the most awkward moment of her young life, but it wasn’t far off (see Agent Provocateur).
“Yes Sir, I did.”
“Well, he has asked me to personally run a few more tests past you.”
“Tests … Sir?”
“Did you not wonder why Mister Moore wanted to see you, Agent Anderson?”
Lacey could have answered facetiously and said something about wanting to ogle her body and stare at her breasts, but she thought better of it.
“Yes Sir, now you come to mention it, I did.”
“Well, he has something in mind for you Agent Anderson, and he needs me to take you through a few routine workouts first?”
“First?” Lacey repeated, but Willoughby was giving nothing more away. “… I can fetch a change of clothes for you and we can do it right now.” He continued.
Lacey sputtered out a yes, still a little surprised at this turn of events, and she soon found herself in the main gym changing room holding a pair of navy-blue gym shorts and a matching t-shirt with a small MI6 logo over the left breast. She quickly changed and headed out to the large gymnasium. It wasn’t empty … men and women were lifting weights, riding exercise bikes, or walking on treadmills. In one corner of the gym, which had thick mats on the floor, a small group was engaged in light hand-to-hand combat.
Along with one of the agency’s trainers, Willoughby walked Lacey through a set of exercises to test her strength and endurance. The trainer seemed happy with Lacey’s performance, and afterwards Willoughby took her to the padded corner of the gym to spar with another female agent. Lacey used her judo moves to flip the woman to the mat over and over, and she even held her own against a male agent who was taller and heavier.
Once the workout was over, Lacey showered and changed back into her street clothes, whereupon she was returned to Willoughby’s office.
“Good,” was the word the Academy Head spoke as she took the offered seat. What that implied Lacey had no idea, other than she assumed that she ‘passed’.
“So, is that it … Sir?” Agent Anderson asked.
Willoughby sat back in his seat and exhaled. “Not quite, there is something else we need to talk about.”
“Oh …” The confused girl responded.
“I’d like a little more information about your, erm, personal life. Do you mind telling me how many men you’ve slept with?”
Lacey’s face went red. “Actually, I do mind. What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m sorry Agent Anderson, but I must insist that you answer my question.”
Lacey let out an irritated sigh then shrugged. “Just one Sir, actually no wait, make that three after those goons who abducted me …”
Willoughby nodded apologetically. “What does it mean to you … sex?’
“What? I erm don’t really know. I don’t attach a lot of importance to it. It’s like seeing a movie. It’s fun while it’s happening, but a few days later I don’t remember much about it.”
“Do you currently have a boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
“Not really.”
“That’s surprising, because you’re a very beautiful girl.”
“And beautiful girls can’t be single and independent?”
Willoughby shuffled the papers on his desk. “Did you love the man you slept with?”
Lacey thought back to her High School teacher, Kurt Harbinger (see Lacey’s first time), and then replied, “No.”
“So having sex with someone you don’t love isn’t an issue for you.”
“Obviously not. Now when are you going to tell me what all of this has to do with … Sir?”
Willoughby leaned back in his chair and laced his hands over his stomach. “Mister Moore has a mission for you. It requires a female Agent working alone.”
“And he wants me?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Well, I’m flattered, but it sounds like a job for a more experienced Agent, so …”
“Where are your parents from originally Agent Anderson?”
“Erm, Malmo in Sweden.”
“Are you Swedish?”
“I guess, I mean I was born there, but …”
“Do you speak Swedish?”
“Yes, fluently, but …”
“The mission is in Stockholm, Agent Anderson, that’s why the boss needs you.”
Lacey nodded; she was beginning to understand. “So, I guess I have no choice then if I’m to follow orders?”
Luke Willoughby nodded.
“So, will that be all, Sir?’
Willoughby smiled. “Almost, but not quite. The next thing I need you to do is strip so I can make sure you don’t have any scars, birthmarks, or other bodily colourations.”
Lacey just stared. “You’re joking, right?”
The smile slid from Willoughby’s face and he crossed his arms over his chest, the body language saying Do I look like I’m joking? “You will be a Swedish Escort Girl Agent Anderson, and you will need a convincing back story, so please, remove your clothes so I can take the required notes.”
Lacey knew she had a great body and never felt self-conscious about showing it, but stripping naked in her erstwhile boss’s brightly lit office in the middle of the day so he could make notes just seemed creepy. But she also knew the MI6 wouldn’t hire her as a honey-trap without being absolutely certain about every aspect of her. The young Agent knew there was no way to get out of this.
So how is this supposed to go? Slow and sexy like a striptease, or quick and simple like I’m at the doctor’s surgery? Lacey’s head suddenly spun.
Because Willoughby was already glancing at his watch, Lacey decided on the second option. Biting her lip, she stood up and reached for the buttons on her blouse. Informally dressed, Lacey wore a white button-down shirt and tight faded blue denim jeans, and she stared at a spot above Willoughby’s head as she unfastened the shirt then dropped it on her chair, exposing her pink lace bra … all that now covered her ample breasts.
Turning sideways she flicked open the button of her jeans and pulled the zipper down before wriggling her way free of the denim. The bra went next, followed quickly by the thong, and soon Lacey stood stark naked with her arms hanging loose at her sides, ready for ‘inspection’.
Willoughby tried to show no emotion, but his cock was so hard he had to shift positions in his chair to ease the ache. His voice came out low and rough as he asked the girl to turn around, which she did.
Holy shit, the Academy Head thought, her body isn’t just great, it’s perfect; those breasts, those legs, that amazing ass, and all of it wrapped in skin as smooth as satin. He asked her to face him again, and now her perfect body was back on full-frontal display.
“Okay that’s fine,” he croaked as dispassionately as he could manage.
The beginnings of a smile crept onto Lacey’s face. I’m just ‘fine’? she thought. Sure, and that’s why you look like you’re about to have a heart attack, you perve.
“Now I have another test for you,” Willoughby said. “No, leave them, you’re fine the way you are,” he added as the girl reached for her clothes.
Lacey dropped her blouse again. “What kind of test requires me to be naked?”
“A test of cunning and resourcefulness. I want to see how fast you can think on your feet and handle a critical situation at a moment’s notice.” He stood and walked to the front of the desk, then perched on the edge of it with his legs slightly spread. “Imagine you’re alone in a room with a Senior Military Officer who’s about to meet with the Chinese and sell them the blueprints of our latest stealth bomber. You need to distract him for 20 minutes so he misses that rendezvous. Show me how you’d do it.”
“Y … you mean here? Now?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
To Be Continued …
Lace
Assistant executioner
I guess, but it just seemed so kinda demeaningSo, Lacey, all this was in the job description, wasn't it? Just a normal day in the office, right? It's no good complaining!
Lace
Assistant executioner
I hope youre right CatonineI doubt it needs 20 min. to make this guy come....
You’ll just have to learn the first rule of cruxgirls- always read the fine print!
Sharkman
Governor
I doubt it needs 20 min. to make this guy come....
Let's see ... Willoughby is a MI6 pro knowing all tricks. Lace is still nude in a kind of job interview. He had his fun til now.
You see. Just a simple pretense.
A comedian? Cheeky! Hope Lace know that there are still waiting some more trained girls in the back-office to get a relaxed sightseeing job in Stockholm. @Fossy you know them?