A Spy Gets Schooled

Tara knew she was in trouble immediately after the brunette's arms locked around her throat, but by then the chokehold was firmly in place. It didn't help that she was still sensitive after her orgasm, and the other woman was wrapping herself around Tara. The well-toned calf was pressing at her clit, hard enough to stimulate it, but not hard enough to cause pain. She felt the hard muscle of the guardwoman's body contrasting with the softness of the breasts rubbing against her back, nipples erect- Get yourself together, stop daydreaming!

The mental slap she gave herself broke the spell, but her sight was already fading to darkness. She felt around for anything to use as a weapon, and luck smiled on her again today. Her fingers closed around the stun gun the guard dropped. Without thinking, she turned it on, jabbed it into the side of the other woman's neck, and pressed the trigger. The woman yelped, more with surprise than pain, but she let go and rolled off Tara, which gave her room to breathe. Either those tasers really were a joke, or the guards had no idea how to recharge batteries. She discarded the useless device.

Tara and the guard were on their knees, glaring at each other. Then, without warning, they moved forward and clashed with their bodies. Their fingers intertwined, each woman trying to push the other backward. Their faces were right next to each other, their breaths mingling, and their own soft grunts filling their ears. Their breasts pressed against each other, their hard nipples used like dueling foils.

They were evenly matched in strength, so Tara tried a different tactic. She attacked the other woman's mouth with her own, tongue parting lips, and invading her opponent's mouth. The brunette was taken by surprise and thrown off balance, and she fell on her back, Tara landing on top of her and pinning her to the ground. They disentangled their fingers, the woman trying to push Tara off, and Tara placed her forearm on the woman's neck and pressed down with her whole weight.

Remembering how effective the kiss was, she decided to escalate things; she slid her free hand down the front of the woman's skirt, and into her panties. The woman was dripping wet already, so Tara did not waste any more time and slid her fingers between the woman's lower lips and started exploring. Understanding dawned in the brunette's eyes, but she either didn't have the strength or the will to resist, and only moaned and struggled feebly. Tara soon found the slightly rougher patch two inches inside the woman's pussy and started rubbing it, while at the same time rubbing the woman's clit with the palm of her hand, and the woman's moans became louder and shorter.

The guard was now completely in Tara's power, her legs kicking weakly, her breath coming in shorter and shorter bursts, until the combination of choking and expert fingering technique brought her to a mind-shattering orgasm. Tara rubbed her hands over her opponent's body as it twitched uncontrollably, and finally drifted off into unconsciousness. Tara looked at her defeated opponent, thinking about the heat she felt right now in her own core. She wondered if she shouldn't relieve her tension quickly before continuing her escape, when a clock somewhere nearby struck the full hour, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

#

The clock struck five times. It was this late already? Tara cast a quick glance at the unconscious woman. No time to tie her up or hide her, she needed to leave right now, or be caught by one of the staff who would be starting their work soon. Tara straightened out her skirt and blouse, and hoped no one would recognize her as long as she wore a guard's clothes. She half ran to the door leading to the garage, but before opening it she stopped, straightened her back, and took a deep breath. Confidence was always the most important part of a disguise.

The garage was mostly empty. There was space for at least four cars, but only one stood there, the Baron's luxurious limousine. This was not good. Half of the city would recognize it, and people would surely take notice of her, but she might have to risk it. As she approached the car she heard the rumbling of a much larger engine. Through a crack in the garage gate she saw a large truck, obviously military, partially loaded with crates, a soldier talking with one of the guards, and them signing some papers. The driver maybe? Was he preparing to leave?

She could not pass up this opportunity, so she cracked the gate open and slipped out. Or tried to at least. Her blouse caught on the gate, and suddenly she was stuck in full view of the whole courtyard. She struggled to free herself, but just as the soldier finished signing off, she managed to tear herself free with one quick pull, leaving a significant part of her blouse stuck to the gate. She ran to the truck, silently cursing the Baron for making high-heeled boots part of the guard's uniform. She managed to hide behind the truck just as the driver turned her way. Her heart was hammering, but it didn't look like anyone noticed her. She quickly climbed onto the truck's bed, hid behind some crates, and she hoped that the crates and the tarpaulin canopy would be enough to hide her.

The engine roared and truck lurched forward once, and then rolled toward the gate. It stopped there for a while, and when it started rolling again, Tara noticed she had been holding her breath and she slowly exhaled.

She cast one last look toward the mansion, and her breath caught as her eyes met with the cold blue ones of the blonde who had defeated her yesterday. The woman was standing in a window of the first floor, and she had obviously noticed Tara hiding among the cargo. To Tara's surprise, however, the blonde didn't raise an alarm, but instead she licked her finger and then moved it down from her mouth, between her breasts and toward her pussy. All the time she held Tara's gaze and smirked at her. She was taunting her! Oh, when they met next time, that bitch was going down! Then the truck was through the gate and on the street, and Tara ducked behind the crates again, fuming.

She waited until the truck was a few blocks further, and when it stopped at a streetlight, she jumped down onto the street. She took a jacket she found between the crates to cover her torn blouse, and she broke off the heels from the boots to make running easier if she needed it. God damn the Baron and his fetishes. The next time she saw him she'd shove one of those heels up his-

One of the passersby looked at her, eyebrow raised, interrupting her thought, and she noticed she had been scowling. She quickly wiped the scowl from her face and continued, eyes downcast to avoid further attention. Before going back to the safehouse she doubled-back a few times to make sure she was not being followed, but it seemed she was safe at least for the time being. Once at the safehouse, she sent a signal to HQ notifying them of her need for extraction, and then she took a long shower, during which the memories of last night came back, and she used and abused the showerhead in ways for which it was most likely not designed.

#

When she came out of the shower an answer from HQ was waiting for her, confirming her extraction, and asking for a report over a video connection. When she connected, the screen was filled by the face of Quinn, her case officer, and she quickly reported what happened during the last twelve hours.

"...And there is one thing that's still bothering me. I've never been so horny on a mission before. And for that matter, all the other women were behaving like bitches in heat too."

Quinn looked a bit uncomfortable hearing that.

"That knockout gas you used? It seems there was a little mix up. The canister I gave you contained an experimental compound. It turns out it doesn't knock people out for long, but then remains airborne longer, and um... It also turns out to be a potent aphrodisiac."

Tara felt her jaw dropping, but before she could react, Quinn continued.

"Anyway, I'll be going on vacation from tomorrow for a few weeks, so see you in a month or two."

And then she quickly closed the connection, leaving Tara staring at her own reflection in the dead screen. She gathered herself after a moment. Two months would pass quickly, and she knew whose face she would be using for a seat cushion after that, superior officer or not.