The Operative: File 04bySizeQueenSupreme©
She'd been a nightmare to track down. It wasn't that she was tricky, it's that she moved so fast, seeming to part the very world around her, leaving in her wake an endless supply of drained balls and dried pussies. Each witness Control found for me could only lead to another three whom my new target had banged into the ground.
It was not so much a matter of triangulating her location, but rather like following the threads of a spider-web, the potential recruit sitting in the center, pulling people to her with lustful strands of pure sex.
We had tracked her to the Ukraine in winter, forcing me to hide my lush figure behind fake fur, and fleece, and wool. I was forced to discard these items when I finally found my way into her winter-home; the place was built in defiance of nature. Even as I walked its halls, watching the wind howl and throw snow, the temperature was like that of an exotic beach, which only made sense when I found my way to the indoor wave pool with an actual white-sand paradise at one side. And on that sand, sunbathing beneath the UV lights of an artificial sun, was my target
Her hair was lush and golden, and long so that it flowed over the back of her simple lawn chair. Her eyes swiveled to regard me as I was shown into this inner sanctum; they were blue, paler than mine but somehow translucently layered with a greater depth. Her lower lip was fuller than mine, but I had a slight edge on her with my upper. Her face held more angularity than my own somewhat softer features; this gave her a far more striking appearance. Her chest baffled me, I'd never even met close to my equal when it came to un-enhanced breasts, and here hers were clearly just a tad fuller than my own.
Staring at Justine Heinrici, I felt something I had not felt in my entire life: Insecure.
"You're worried I'll replace you." She spoke at last. Where my voice was pure sex, hers was an exotic mix of that and more. Confidence, innocence, tranquility, huskiness and a slight German lilt.
"Then you know why I'm here?" I said back.
"Your... Control, wants me to join you, do they not?" She smiled, folding her arms behind her head. I have little appreciation for the feminine form, apart from knowing the power of my own, yet at the sight of her breasts lifting and re-asserting themselves into perfect teardrops higher on her chest, I could honestly feel a slight tingle between my thighs.
Was this how I made other women feel?
"Well, they might. I've been sent to test you." She laughed when I said this.
"Test me? What's the point of testing me when you don't even know if I'm interested yet?"
"Well are you?"
She looked me up and down, a gaze of sexual appreciation, and perhaps camaraderie as well.
"I might be. What's in it for me?"
"Well obviously we can't offer you money." I gestured, my arms wide, to indicate her magnificent sun-filled mansion on the heart of the Ukrainian tundra.
"You've got at least as much as our organization if not more so. Nor do I imagine that we have much to teach you when it comes to a craft like yours and mine. "
"I'd like to test that, actually..." She smirked, her gaze at me almost becoming wolfish.
"Well that brings me to what we can offer. Within the fold of Control, you would have an unprecedented access to files on the most extraordinary sexual performers on earth. We are familiar with your famous black books. We believe you would need a library of such books to keep up with the sheer volume of carnality my organization could throw your way."
"Hm. But I would have to do work, yes?" She lazily stretched, her legs shifting like water before me. She was at least two inches taller than I.
"Yes... but you might like it. The test I've been sent to administer would give you a taste of what work for us might be like, while allowing us to confirm what we suspect will be your legendary capability."
She yawned. "Far out. What's the job?"
I was in.
* * *
"You have no idea how happy it makes me to share clothes with another woman. I've never been able to do that before!" Justine was holding a beautifully cut slut-dress to me, seeing how it would handle my figure. "Yes, perfect fit. Try it on."
It would seem Justine had experienced some additional breast growth later in life, now weighing in somewhere between a JJ and K cup bra, but in her younger days so many decades ago, she'd owned plenty of bras and outfits in my size. Her height would be an issue, but as I slipped this particular black number on, --square patches cut out of it to expose a maximum of the sides and bottoms of my breasts, and a square keyhole in the middle to give my cleavage breathing room-- I found that the height difference just made for a shorter skirt, which was even hotter.
"So your file says you were part of a breeding program?"
Her expression darkened.
"If I'm going to work for your outfit, there will be no talk of that. Ever. And I would insist upon that information being wiped from my records."
I wasn't going to press it.
"Call me Justine." She insisted. She slipped into a two-piece number, a red crop top that showed her flat stomach and held her breasts aloft in a gravity-defying act. She added a short skirt that she made sure was at about the same level as mine. Looking in the mirror we were a pair of goddesses, blonde-haired, blue eyed, not twins, but distinctly sexual in our own ways, doubtlessly able to take on anything fate might throw our way.
We were en route to the somewhat warmer coast of the Black Sea. Hardly a resort, but much better than deep Ukraine. On my private jet I offered her the use of my Steward, but she waved him away.
"I would rather get to know you, Operative. What is your name?"
"That's highly classified." I answered.
Her mouth closed in a pouty 'O' of surprise a moment, which then shimmered into a smile.
"I'll bet I could make you tell me, dearie...."
Her words actually frightened me.
And excited me.
"Let's focus on the target at hand. His name is Conrad Hunter. Dr. Hunter to most. He holds PhD's in Psychology, Psychiatry, and Human Sexuality with a specialty in the Anatomical Sub-Disciplines of each. He is a former Control Agent."
She arched an eyebrow, "I hope we're not going to be killing anyone."
"Oh goodness no, he didn't leave Control on bad terms. But he left a formula he was working on for us incomplete. We're going to talk him into giving him the recipe... so that no one has to kill him. His vast knowledge in Sexual Interrogation and Manipulation will make him a tricky target. Also..."
I hesitated, swallowing hard.
"What is it?" Justine asked.
"He was one of my best teachers. I replaced him when he retired. And I could never beat him at his own game."
"Are you hoping or afraid I'll triumph over him where you've failed?" She asked.
I hung my head; how could this nuclear sex-bomb be so insightful? "Yes." I answered both possibilities truthfully.
"Well don't worry about it honey. I'm sure that if he gives in, it will be to both of us, not because of me. Who could resist over 100 inches of titflesh and our sexual talents?" She stroked my cheek and I felt like eating out of her hand.
"Yeah." I smiled weakly. She was humoring me, but I was glad to have at least that.
* * *
We touched down in the evening, leaving our little jet to swiftly click our way on high heels through the darkened city streets, aged soviet architecture looming large and gray against the empty sky. We were being followed and we knew it.
"Who do you think they are?" Hissed Justine, as the four burly men rounded the same useless corner we had.
"Delta Initiative." I said softly.
"Not familiar with that one. I've been out of the game a long while." Explained Justine.
"They're like an unlawful answer to Interpol. They sprang up last year with an unprecedented amount of funding and high level of employment. Their overall goals are fuzzy, but at the outset, undermining the authority of all governments be they despotic or democratic, acquisition of large sums of money, and establishment of a superior ruling class seem to all be in the offing. They abduct and kill people whom they deem to violate their own set of international laws."
"That's a mouthful." Justine said. "What will they do if they catch us?"
"I'm guessing I'm on the kill list by now, though I couldn't be sure. Either way we don't have time to lose them or outfuck them. Other options?"
"I can think of two." Said Justine, reaching beneath her skirt, somehow producing an impressively phallic handgun and a high-tech looking sub-machine gun.
"Woah." I said appreciatively.
"You a good shot?" She asked me. I shook my head. She handed me the larger gun. "Spray and pray." She instructed, then whirled on our tails with the magnum
I did as instructed, the staccato of ricochets echoing into the night while I veritably traced the outline of our opponents in bullets.
Justine calmly lined up her shots, the huge magnum throwing her whole arm up with each lead ejaculation. In four shots, four men fell. She turned to me, laughing as I trembled like a leaf, arms still shaking from the recoil of the rapid-fire gun. Where she'd fired four shots, I'd fired more like four hundred, the casings of ammunition piled around my feet like a sea of clinking copper.
"You're not kidding." She said. "You suck at that!"
"Rub it in why don't you?" I murmured, handing back her gun to be placed in whatever secret holster she had. She rubbed the back of my neck warmly as we continued down the street, the cold air assaulting us through our scanty costumes.
* * *
My former teacher had done well for himself. Conrad's estate was a four-story brick affair that looked warm, and comfortable. We let ourselves in, by way of hairpin, and were immediately accosted by a couple of guards, big burly boys, not bad looking really. Clearly my former teacher did his own recruiting.
Justine bit her lower lip taking them in. "We don't have to kill them too, do we?" She asked as one grabbed each of us by the shoulders.
"No no no...Let's have fun." I said, slithering my leg up between one's thighs, feeling a nice heavy package sit soft on my leg when I rubbed him there.
"Deal." Said Justine. Then she proceeded to break my very brain.
I watched in awe as she opened her mouth and stuck out the beginnings of a nice, soft looking pink tongue. But it kept coming and coming, seeming to unspool from her mouth as she gave a looooooooooong salacious lick down her assailant's torso, her tongue extending at least a full two feet to wrap around his zipper, prehensile strength and skill bringing it down, then slipping into his fly.
She was tonguing his cock while standing straight up!
She stuck out what must have been another four inches of tongue, only angling her head down slightly before the long wet muscle pulled back in, bringing with it a tremendous soft cock, bundled up in coils of mouth-meat.
"Holy shit!" Both guards and I said in unison, each of us mesmerized at the sight of this endless tongue, now skillfully flicking the head of the cock it was holding.
The Cock Justine's tongue was servicing hardened quickly to a beautiful 12-incher, she lustily joined me in licking at her man's balls... but this she could do with her whole tongue spiraled around his meat, her hands free to stroke at his muscles beneath his shirt. I whimpered inadequately as I licked up the cock I had to work with, slurping on it's head lustily as it firmed up at around 11 inches long.
I'm sure I looked envious, eyes leering as my head bobbed a little, my mouth stuffed full with fat cock. Justine was making putty of her own man, the tongue jacking the throbbing prick as it pulled it towards the mouth, like a winch lifting a truck made of meat.
Finally she was engulfing him in full, pulling him inch by inch, the cock disappearing into her throat. In a final act of impossibility, her tongue snaked out, wrapped around his dangling balls like she was picking fruit with it, and pulled the pair of seedmakers into the disappearing act of her mouth.
Then she was swallowing as he came hard.
My target came as well. Oh sure I was giving him the best blowjob that he would ever receive, but it was the sight of Justine's prowess that caused his rocket to launch, forcing me to choke just slightly on thick gouts of tasty cream. I was sure the guy in Justine's mouth was pumping out even more, but the word "gag" was clearly not in her vocabulary.
She lovingly milked the stud's balls as she slipped the softening rod from her mouth, lips curling and rolling as the meat came free. She looked at me with a haughty smile, seeming to like the sight of me wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.
I leaned in close to her.
"Not bad hon.. But wait till you see Hunter's piece... he's got the biggest cock I've ever seen." Even as I said these words my mind drifted the unknown quantity The Specialist was packing. If his cock weren't much of a grower, my former teacher would have the edge. Some part of me doubted it though.
Justine shrugged and packed the guard's cock back into his pants, then waited for me to do the same. Then there was the sound of a solitary, slow, clap.
"Well done, well done my darling." He sounded so old to me now... when I first met Conrad Hunter, he was a middle-aged man, brilliant and tall and dark. Now he seemed somehow smaller to me, hair peppered with gray, a pair of steel-rimmed glasses framing his pretty green eyes.
But he'd kept his physique up, no part of him drooped, save for the mammoth package he was hiding poorly behind his slacks. Justine looked at him fondly as I ran into his open arms, giving my former Spymaster a hug, crushing my breasts deep into his chest.
"You're here to interrogate me about the Prometheus Formula, are you not?" He chuckled.
"I was hoping you'd give it freely, Conrad."
"Now now, little one, I taught you that nothing is ever given freely..."
"Okay then, how about this...we've subdued your guards, you're all alone, and we'll torture you till you talk."
"Hm. You're welcome to try."
* * *
Well we did have the guns. Those wouldn't make him talk, but they were enough for him to stand still as we bound his hands and feet in his own restraints, spread-eagling him against a wall.
"Dr. Hunter, this is Justine. While I have the benefit of all your training, she has the benefit of far more experience. Between the two of us. We will make you talk."
He smiled proudly. "Show me." He instructed.
We did. We began by stripping him of his clothes, revealing his smooth firm physique, rippled abs, squared pecs, and toned legs. We left his underwear for last, a simple pair of clean white briefs, stretched into obscenity by the enormity of the bulge beneath. A single one of his balls makes more package than most men's entire junk collections, and here we were, looking at two of them and the coiled sleeping snake above.
"Brace yourself Justine, this thing never fails to drop my jaw." I said, rubbing my hands together with glee.
She moved in, swiftly de-pantsing him with such zest that his whole package bounced upon being freed, mighty balls wobbling and rolling in their sac as his cock slapped up against his abs, then drooped down, semi-hard at around 10 inches long.
"And that's not even hard yet!" I said hollowly, taking it all in again for the first time in too long.
Justine just shrugged. "It's pretty big, I guess." She sounded disappointed.
This woman was a marvel. I don't know what she had done in her life to make Conrad's incredible 15-inch long cock seem mundane, but it was becoming clear to me that she was simply out of my league.
I pulled Justine aside a moment and explained to her my plan. She nodded and together we went to work.
First there were more clothes to remove. My ex-instructor was not going to be impressed with some tawdry strip-tease act, so it was almost matter-of-fact the way we helped each other out of our appointed slutwear. Soon we both stood naked before his now throbbing 15 inch megacock, Justine's tits just a little higher than mine, though he didn't seem to think mine were any less attractive the way he stared.
"You've become a beautiful woman, my pupil."
"I was beautiful when you found me." I shot back.
"Not denying that." He murmured, staring,
mesmerized as Justine worked her hips, moving in to place a lingering kiss on his mouth.
I don't know what that incredible genetically engineered tongue of hers did inside of him, but I'd never seen his cock stiffen straight up with such speed before. By the time she pulled back she was frenching him and licking the inside of his left ear at the same time, looping her tongue inside his mouth while the tip tickled the side of his head.
"What in God's name?" He said, voice cracking slightly. I'd never heard that either.
"You mean Goddess." Justine hissed into his ear before kissing and licking down his jaw, his neck, his chest, joining me where I had already begun to trace the lines of his abs with my tongue. We played with his cock, holding it out of the way of our affections, passing it hand to hand, then placing all four of our hands on it, me staring at how much still protruded through.
Justine slithered the tip of her mouth-serpent down its length, lifting and ensnaring his balls, rolling them back and forth. I knew how heavy those bulky nuts were; her tongue was strong.
By the time I found myself slurping and smacking my lips all over his head, Justine was coaxing out precum to feed me, her endless tongue squeezing in a tight mobius strip around his titanic testes, the two of us filling the room with nothing but the sounds of fast breath, fevered moans, slobbering sucks and gurgling swallows.
His precum fountained down, coating her tongue white while it danced along his shaft in six different places at once, still tormenting the balls beneath. When his scrotum began to tighten, she used her mouth strength to tug it down, preventing his release.
When I was in training I could never take him all... now I was determined to blow his mind in addition to blowing his cock. Plunging down I consumed him, throating his whole 15 inches in a single gag-ridden suck, my throat convulsing in protest on his thick meat as I held him inside. Justine continued her assault on his balls as I looked up into his eyes, letting him know that I had surpassed him in raw skill and psychological prowess. Again his seedmakers tightened and a second time he was denied release as Justine put his nuts on lockdown.
"Not Bad!" She said encouragingly as I breathed raggedly around his whole 15 inches. Finally my head got light and I was forced to retreat, relinquishing his now-glistening prickshaft with a sound that was a choke and a moan somehow at the same time, jacking him angrily in both fists as I marveled at his meat.
"My turn." Justine said, gently pushing my head down to take over the all-important task of ball-worship. She straightened up, grinding her tits into his chest a moment as she gave him a smug smirk. "You should give us the formula doctor. Even if your brain can take this, I'm not sure your balls can. Wouldn't want you to burst such a lovely pair of big nuts..."
She trailed off and dipped her head, tongue making a candy-cane of his tremendous meat pole as she slurped it deep. Not only could she throat him to the balls without gagging, but she demonstrated another talent by whipping her head up and down, plunging him into her gullet at 5, 15, 25 miles per hour, hair spraying out as she bobbed wildly.
I was spattered with gobbets of precum and saliva, protectively nursing his nutsack as she bobbed, her head becoming an impossible blur of brilliant dicksucking. His balls were turning summersaults in my mouth as they tried to dispense their load, but I would not let them. He gave a strangled cry, fighting his restraints hard. It was awful to watch him suffer like this... but I needed the Prometheus Formula just as badly as he needed release from this tantric torture.