Agent Swann, FBI

"Leaving already, sugartits? And we were just getting to the good stuff!" Joe's departing comment followed her on her way out of the trailer.

Agent Ross was flabbergasted. How did Swann dare to leave in the middle of the interview? Such unprofessional behavior was unlike her. Come to think of it, she had been acting in a strange way ever since entering this place, and even though he could not quite figure out why that was, he did find her obvious distress somewhat...amusing. As she was heading for the door, he drily said, "We are done in a minute, Agent Swann. Come back here and let's finish this, now."

Natalie stopped just as she could breathe the fresh forest air. Ross was not her superior, but he was still her senior mentor, and she could not reject a direct order, even though she did not want to go back anywhere near that scumbag. Doubly defeated, she turned on her heels and came back to the table, feeling humiliated and helpless. In front of her, Joe was beaming.

"Ahh, I missed you, pumpkin. Why don't you come over here and sit in uncle Joe's lap? I promise it will be much more comfortable than that rickety old chair," he said with a nasty grin, slapping a greasy hand against his bare, hairy thigh.

Natalie once more tried her best to ignore the insufferable pig and instead turned to her colleague, whispering to him, "Ross, can we please get out of here? It's obvious this guy doesn't know anything. We're just wasting our time here."

"Oh, I know more than you think, baby. I know exactly what you want. And there's only one way you will get it," Joe interjected. He left his words hanging in the air, the double meaning obvious. Even the dull male agent could not hide a small smirk this time as he picked up on the sexist slur. Joe didn't blame him. Working every day with such a knockout of a partner, the poor guy had probably tried to get into her pants more than once, and failed every time. Joe chuckled to himself. This agent...Ross, was it?... had a lot to learn. He clearly had no idea how to treat a slut, or he would have gotten to that pussy in no time. From where Joe was sitting, agent Swann was just begging for it.

Natalie could not believe it! Was it possible that her partner was enjoying the situation? Was this some kind of revenge for her tendency to take the lead despite her lower rank? Or was it just some man-to-man joke at her expense? For some obscure reason, she didn't dare to snap a sharp remark at the slob, nor did she reprimand her partner.

Joe sought eye contact with Natalie, and when he got it, he fixed her large brown orbs with an intense stare, conveying to her all the filthy thoughts that occupied his mind at that moment, daring her to stop him from seeing them all fulfilled. He had her now. Oh yes, she was his. She just didn't know it yet.

Natalie had kept her eyes averted most of the time until now. Feeling Joe staring at her, she made the mistake to look up, and then it was as though she were mesmerized--a mouse in front of a snake. It wasn't that his eyes were dazzling, or charismatic. Quite the contrary; they looked like pig eyes, squeezed in amid bags of fat. But the things they conveyed! They seemed to drill straight into her soul, sucking out her most horrible fantasies and making them worse. It was as though her resolve was melting. She could no longer turn her eyes away, nor could she speak. Her mouth opened, as though to say something, and then remained agape, and silent.

The look she gave him in return, the expression of submission in those dark, velvety eyes, the slight tremble of her full lips, the tightening of the tiny muscles in her brows, almost caused his cock to burst through its meager confinement beneath the table. He nearly came in those week-old underwear, adding to the stains already in them. What small part of Joe's mind that wasn't occupied undressing the young female agent in front of him, body and soul, was now handing out trite answers to Ross' questions in monotonous tones, as if coming from a separate being.

Agent Ross tried to continue his interview, not paying much attention to what was happening around him as he read his notes and scribbled down what he could. It was difficult to get any information out of this slug of a man. Swann may have been right, they were wasting their time. Still, he liked how his colleague had turned all meek and silent all of a sudden. Perhaps it was the stench floating around in this place. He could see how that would affect her. For his part, he would have to get his suit dry-cleaned once they got back to civilization. Failing to get any more answers to his questions, he stood up.

"OK, Mr. Carter, we are done, for now. Do not leave the country until we let you know that this case is closed. We might have more questions to ask you at a later date." He walked to the door and then looked over his shoulder at Swann who was still sitting at the table with a lost look on her face.

"Didn't you have an urgent call to make, Agent Swann?"

This broke the dark spell Natalie had been frozen in. Shaking her head, closing her mouth, she stood up too, almost stumbling on her chair, and headed for the door without another word, happy to leave this creepy place.

Before his pretty prey could exit his home, Joe grabbed a hold of her arm and pulled her aside, cornering her between himself and the wall. A quick glance outside confirmed that her partner was already a ways up ahead and would not overhear what he was about to say. Boy did she smell good! He made sure to stand close enough to her so that she could feel his erection poking up against her body, to let her know he had claimed ownership of her.

Natalie shivered at the clammy touch on her arm, and then the solid bulge against her thigh, but did not even consider shaking herself free. Again, she felt frozen to the spot, lost in her own maze of twisted arousal.

"If you want to know what really happened to that missing chick, I might know something about it," Joe said in the most serious tone of voice he had used all day.

"But there is a price. You come see me tonight back here, at ten o'clock sharp, alone and unarmed. And don't tell anyone about it, or I won't talk." He looked into her eyes for a long moment to see if she had understood, and then slid his hand down her arm to brush over the backs of her slender fingers.

"Oh, and about that payment, don't worry about it, I'll let you know what you can do for me when you get here," he finished with another toothy grin.

"See you tonight, tight-cheeks." He gave her a slap on the butt to send her on her way, and then turned back into the trailer for some breakfast.

* * *

Natalie's mind cleared almost as soon as she was out of the truck, but Joe's words kept churning in her head. Following Ross to their car, she even let him drive again as she was trying to sort out her thoughts. If that fat pig really knew something about their case, it might help her progress toward her upcoming promotion. However, there was something more at stake here, something far more personal. That price she would have to pay... it was easy to guess it would be some kind of sexual service. And the things that a sleazebag of Joe's caliber would come up with in that regard would never classify as mild. To her confused mind, that thought acted both as a repellant and an attractor.

Starting with her puberty, she had developed very intense fantasies which she had kept to herself and had fought to suppress for years. And now that man, that disgusting slob, was giving her a chance to live them all out. It would be their secret. Nobody she knew would be around or have any reason to meet with or speak to that man afterward. And even if they did, who would believe a hillbilly like him if he decided to brag about his conquest? After the way he had just treated her, with Ross as her witness, it was clear he was quite full of himself and could not be trusted. Besides, it would be her word against his, and a respectable Federal agent like herself would win that debate ten times out of ten.

It would be just a one-time affair. She could experience the thrill to its culmination, and then it would be exorcized, leaving her free from its curse for the rest of her life. It was a bit reckless, maybe... but she didn't think this guy was really dangerous. He was just a stupid, porn-addicted redneck. And it was not as if she was defenseless. Even without her gun, her body was a trained weapon and she felt sure she could overpower that obese guy without breaking a sweat. But he was so disgusting! What if she caught some disease? And what if his invitation was a trap? What if, when she got there, ten of his friends would be waiting to jump her and gang rape her?

Thoughts like these continued to torture her for the entire day back at the office, preventing her from getting much work done. Whenever she managed to calm down and think about the situation in the cold light of day, she came to the conclusion that it was all just bullshit, that Joe had no information to give and that he only wanted a piece of ass without having to pay for it. Yet, she could not get rid of that clammy touch on her arm. She could still feel the moist, pudgy fingers holding it with steel strength. It was as though she was still in his filthy grasp. Whenever that thought came back, her resolve collapsed and she felt the urge to see him again.

Moreover, it seemed that the stench of his genitals had impregnated her pants where he had rubbed them. It was as though his pheromones had marked her and were floating around announcing to everybody that she was owned. Looking around at her colleagues, nobody seemed to notice anything different about her, but she did not dare to ask. She made several trips to the restroom to try and wash the spot with soap, even spraying it with perfume. But somehow the smell would not go away. Worse, whenever she found herself alone in the restroom, she could not fight the perverse thoughts from coming back. She found herself slipping her hands under her shirt, under her sports bra even, to knead her breasts and pinch her nipples. That just drove her crazy and blurred her mind even more.

In the end, she went home early, in the hopes that a long shower would remove all traces of that awful man. As soon as she was in her apartment, she disrobed and got under the hot spray. She soaped every inch of herself and shampooed her long curly hair. Then she turned down the temperature of the water until it was as cold as it could get. This helped her a lot, and when she got out of the shower, covered in goosebumps, her decision was clear in her mind. She would forget about that jerk and continue with her job as usual. She was looking forward to a cozy evening of watching Columbo episodes until she fell asleep on her couch.

On the way to the kitchen, she saw her clothes, which she had just dropped in a heap on the floor. She gathered them to put them in the laundry basket. That was when the smell came back, wafting up from her crumpled pants. In seconds it had melted her mind again.

She realized then that she would never get rid of this curse. The only way to break free was to explore it, live it out to its end and then forget about it. She looked at the clock. Five past nine. She could still get there in time if she hurried.

She put on a pair of jeans, a normal bra that would not compress her breasts to oblivion, and a white blouse. Nothing sexy, but informal and not too expensive, as she might have to dump the clothes afterward. For her shoes, she selected a pair of natural leather sandals with a medium heel.

She was already late. She had no time to dry her hair or tie it into her usual bun. She knew that by the time she reached the trailer park, it would have dried into a monstrous mess of brown curls, but that didn't really matter at this point, did it?

She considered taking her gun, hesitated, and decided to put it in the glove compartment of her car, just in case. She also tossed her handcuffs in her purse should she need to arrest the guy at some point.

Then she drove as fast as she dared. Night was already falling and it was a solid hour to get to the trailer park. With almost no traffic on the back roads at this late hour, she made it in less than fifty minutes. But she was still late. She parked her car by the rather quaint 'No Trespassers' sign at the entrance, and then set off across the seedy encampment. Again, the place seemed deserted, and she wondered if anyone else but Joe lived there.

She arrived at his big trailer truck a few minutes past ten, panting and having built up a sheen of perspiration from the brisk walk. Taking a breath, she gave the door a firm knock, which still sounded weaker than the pounding of her own heart.

* * *

Joe had been watching for agent Swann to arrive, but never thought she'd show. When the clock had passed ten, he was sure she wouldn't, but then he spotted her jogging up toward the trailer, and his face lit up in a nasty smile.

"Hey, kitten, why don't you get over to your friend's house and play with some dolls or something, leave daddy to have some fun tonight, OK?" he called over his shoulder to his daughter, who gave him a frown and a huge sigh.

"I'm nineteen, dad. I don't play with dolls anymore. Though it looks like you'll get to play with your doll tonight," she added with a twisted grin. "Are you sure you don't need some help with her?"

"Just get out of here, girl," he said, making shooing motions for her to leave.

"OK, OK. I'm going." Heather grabbed some of her things and then pushed open the back door, slipping out into the woods behind the trailer and was fast gone into the night.

* * *

Joe leaned up against the front door of his shabby, but trusted trailer. On the other side of it stood special agent Natalie Swann, the two of them separated only by a sheet of metal. He had heard her knocking, but decided she could wait a little longer. He stroked his rising cock through his sweatpants and thought about what he'd first do with her. He could almost smell her through the walls; that faint, sweet perfume of hers that intoxicated his senses.

Natalie stood, panting, trying to recover her breath. There was no reaction, no sound from inside the truck, though she could see a warm yellow light filter through the curtains. Where could that slob have gone off to anyway? He was just playing with her nerves, she was sure. At least this pause allowed her to calm down a bit.

Joe couldn't wait any longer. He tore open the door, and there she was. For a moment he just stared at her, taking in her beauty. She looked different. So different, in fact, that at first glance he thought she might be somebody else. Her hair was all over and around her head, a tousled mass of thick brown curls. She wore more makeup than she had when on duty, and her tits looked somehow bigger. Her plain white blouse contrasted with her golden-tanned skin, making her glow in the dim light under the single functioning lamppost. Whoever this was, she looked great! Then he recognized those liquid brown pools she had for eyes and his face split in a big grin.

"Agent Swann. So glad you could make it," he said, holding out his arms to the sides in a welcoming gesture. She did not respond with more than a raised eyebrow.

The temperature had dropped outside, and wearing no jacket, she looked cold, though her skin gleamed with perspiration. She must have hurried to get here on time. He liked that. Already, she was showing dedication. He made no move to invite her inside, enjoying the sight of her standing there shivering. She looked even more unsure of herself now than she had earlier, but he knew she wouldn't have come here if she didn't know what she wanted--and what he wanted.

"You look unarmed, but you'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it," he said, taking a step forward.

"Turn around and put your hands up against the wall." He smirked, loving the swapping of roles. When she did as ordered, he moved up behind her and placed his hands on her hips, enjoying the feel of their flaring curvature. He grabbed her small, firm waist and slid his hands up along her flanks as if feeling for any hidden weapons, taking his time, and when he reached her breasts, he cupped and squeezed them far longer than needed.

Natalie chewed her lip, and closed her eyes, repeating to herself that she was making a mistake. But it was too late now. His hands were warm and sweaty against her cold skin. The touch was disagreeable and the way he squeezed her breasts... his fingers felt like the claws of some raptor. Yet it brought a clench to her vagina. This was it. Her fantasies were getting real.

"Well, you don't hide much up there, I can tell," he taunted her, a bit disappointed in how shallow those small mounds of tit flesh felt under his palms. He leaned in closer so that he could bury his bulbous nose in her sweet-smelling mass of hair and whispered in her ear, "Now let's see what you're concealing down below." Grabbing her neck with one hand to push her up against the trailer wall, he used the other to feel up her jeans-clad ass and firm-muscled thighs. Wherever he placed his hands on her, he felt tight, young flesh. She was fit, alright, and in great shape from the looks of her.

All along, Natalie remained silent. She was trembling a bit, whether from the chill or the fear, she couldn't tell. Or was it excitement? His hands explored her butt and crotch as though she was just a piece of meat. It should have been obvious to him that she could not hide anything there as her tight pants hugged her body. But then, he wasn't searching her, he was evaluating her, and asserting his domination of her. And she felt it, deep in her soul.

He found her purse hanging off one shoulder and ripped it away with such force the strap broke. Rifling through its contents, his eyes fell on the standard issue handcuffs inside and he let out a soft chuckle. Plucking the metal out of the purse, he upended the rest of it on the muddy grass and threw the empty thing aside as if it was trash.

"Hey! My purse! My things!" Natalie protested, wondering how she was going to find all her stuff in the darkness. The keys to her car and to her apartment were in there somewhere! Along with the condoms she had thrown in at the last minute.

"How nice of you to bring your own toys to the party," Joe said, ignoring her protests, and pulled her hands down one by one to lock them in the steel manacles behind her back, tightening them to their smallest circumference until they sat snug up against her slender wrist bones.

She had felt it coming the moment he'd found the handcuffs and she gave herself a mental slap for even bringing them. Or was this what she had wanted all along? She hadn't found any non-violent way to avoid her shackling, and now she felt stupid, standing there like some common criminal in the chilly night, her wrists crushed by her own handcuffs. How humiliating was this going to get?

"Now let's go have that talk, you and I," Joe said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her along in rough jerks, making her stumble as she was manipulated, stubbing her toes against the steps on the way in. She wasn't really used to wearing heels. Joe shoved her inside the trailer and slammed the door shut behind them. Natalie already had the distinct feeling this would be the longest night of her life.