Amanda, CIA Agent Ch. 05

Was she to be fitted for pants too? Perhaps part of a going away outfit?

Or perhaps she was to wear stockings with her dress. During her frequent shopping forays, she'd often seen sets featuring a garter belt and stockings as part of a traditional bridal lingerie ensemble.

But what was up with the whole bridal scenario? Was it part of an upcoming mission? Or simply an element of another kinky habituation session? She feared the latter was more likely. She dialed Percy again, but her call went straight to voice mail.

As she hung up, she heard Lisette across the room, speaking to a seamstress. She held a satchel in one hand, her handbag in the other, and as she opened the door, Amanda realized she was leaving. Impulsively, she descended the stairs and crossed the floor.

"Um, Lisette, before you go, could you --"

Lisette frowned at Amanda's exposed legs. "Could I what?"

Amanda realized her skirt was still off. She pressed her palms to her thighs in an absurd, hopeless attempt to lengthen the tails of her blouse.

A uniformed delivery man entered through the open door, a long box under each arm. As he passed Amanda, he tried to twist his head past its limits.

Amanda's cheeks pinked. "Um. Could you tell me why --"

It occurred to her then how strange it would be to ask Lisette to explain her own need for a bridal gown. "Um, never mind." Flustered, she turned and walked back to the platform, clapping the back of her blouse against her backside when she felt it fly up.

"There you are," said Malcolm. "Give Cherie that blouse, and I'll take the last few measurements."

Before Amanda could react, Cherie had already undone the buttons and pulled the blouse off her shoulders, leaving her in just her bra and panties.

"That's such a flattering set," said Malcolm, turning her toward the light fixture and standing back to study her. "Mauve is one of my favorite colors. I'll have to mention it to my girlfriend." He measured her waist, then her chest, above and below her breasts.

Cherie cocked her head. "I already had a beautiful set of bridal lingerie in mind for you. All in white, of course. But now that I've had a better look at your body, we've got more to work with than I realized. And apparently you're open to something a little more daring."

Malcolm looked her up and down. "I agree. It would be a crime to cover that up."

Cherie knelt down in front of her. "Those cutouts on the front of the panties are so hot! Oh, looks like we have a little grooming issue."

Amanda turned red to her ears. "I had to cancel my regular waxing to be here tonight. They rebooked me for next week."

Cherie smiled and patted her shoulder. "I understand." She made another jot in her notebook.

"Should I choose some dresses to try on?" asked Amanda, looking over at a traditional high-necked satin gown with a floor-length skirt and train.

Cherie shook her head. "Lisette's already designed a dress for you. You're going to love it."

Amanda's face fell. Since her teens, she'd romanticized her future wedding, and she'd dreamed of choosing a dress that matched her preferences exactly.

A moment later, she realized she'd gotten carried away. She wasn't really getting married; this was all for show. She felt silly.

"All done," said Malcom.

"Yay!" said Cherie, leaning in for a friendly hug. "I'm so excited for you."

Malcolm stepped toward her and wrapped his own arms around her. As he kissed her cheek, he clinched her tightly, and she felt her breasts flatten against his chest, all too aware of her nearly naked body and his hard thigh pressing against her vulva. But she was careful to temper her instinctive response, gently slipping out of his grasp as she tried to avoid offending him.

"Don't forget, 8am on Thursday," said Cherie brightly as Malcom watched Amanda pull on her blouse. Amanda nodded and pasted on a polite smile as she zipped up her skirt.

As she drove home, she replayed the day's events and her apprehensiveness grew. What was Percy up to?

* * *

The next day, feeling especially lonely in her solitary SCIF, Amanda decided to sit down for lunch in the dining room instead of customarily bringing a salad back to her desk. She chose a small corner table, then scolded herself for being unsociable. She forced herself to meet the eye of a passerby, but he immediately looked away. She smiled at the next woman, but she too failed to join her.

You really need to get out more, she told herself. With Jason's recent migration from her 'yes, please' list to her 'hell, no' list, she teetered on the brink of yet another dating dry spell. Unless she could quickly identify a replacement.

But the men who streamed past in twos and threes -- many of whom checked her out -- were uniformly unsuitable, due to excessive age, or insufficient height, or intolerable corpulence. They didn't have to be hot, she reminded herself, just under 30, with an average face and minimal fitness. Surely that wasn't too much to ask for someone as pretty as herself.

In college, she'd grown accustomed to continual attention from attractive men. She didn't often choose to date them, but there was always at least one man pursuing her -- frequently more -- and she felt reassured by their presence. Her current lack of options was unsettling.

Was Jason really so bad? she wondered. Since their disagreement the day before, he'd called, and texted, and left a voice mail. But critically, he hadn't expressed any regret for his abominable behavior. No, he didn't care about her as a person, not really.

And as his voice mail made clear, the things he wanted sexually were just out of the question. Public groping was the least of it. Even exhibitionism wasn't the worst of it. No, his demands were beyond the pale. And apparently non-negotiable. His sense of entitlement was infuriating.

She'd just have to find someone else.

She checked her phone again for a callback from Percy. She'd tried him three times that morning, but now Natasha wasn't even bothering to pick up. She'd have to do a walk-by.

* * *

Outside Percy's office, Natasha's desk stood vacant. Amanda peeked around the corner, and saw Percy's door was ajar.

Amanda tapped on his door, then opened it a crack. Percy sat at his desk, holding a huge sandwich. When he saw her, he froze in mid-bite.

Not waiting to be invited in, Amanda sat down opposite him. "What's going on, Percy? You haven't returned my calls."

"I've been busy," he managed between chews. A stray scrap of ham fell into his lap.

"Apparently I'm playing the lead role in some sham wedding in Alexandria tomorrow morning. Is this part of an op?"

Percy took another bite, and chewed openmouthed. Amanda noticed the layer of mayonnaise coating his lips and chin, and as she watched, another dollop dripped onto his shirt.

I can't believe I kiss him whenever he wants, she thought to herself. He's disgusting.

She restrained the urge to make a face, and tried to soften her expression. "I could do a better job with the op if I understood the objective and knew what to expect."

She pursed her lips. "And who's the groom? Some foreign national we're trying to turn? Or do I pry some intelligence out of him? Will I have backup?"

Percy waved his hand. "It's not an op. It's just a guy with a fantasy about a bride, and a wedding, and a... deflowering. Not much for you to do, really, just say, 'I do' and then lie back and get fucked. Oh, and pretend to be a virgin, however ridiculous that notion might be."

She scowled. "Am I going to actually say vows? I'm not going to actually be legally married, am I?"

Percy snorted. "The vows don't count. You're not married unless you sign the papers."

He checked his watch. "Shit. I'm late for a call. Just follow Lisette's instructions. Now, scoot. Close the door on your way out."

* * *

The next morning, Amanda stopped for coffee on her way to An Affair to Remember. It had been another sleepless night.

While she drove, she blew into her steaming cup, willing it to be cool enough to guzzle. As her sexual experiences mounted, it was getting easier to stomach the casual way Percy assigned her liaisons, but only slightly. He never even introduced her beforehand, she fumed.

However, she understood that Percy's objective was not to make it enjoyable; it was to break down her inhibitions until she could carry out her responsibilities more effectively. Seen from that perspective, it made sense to force her to have sex with people she'd never met, and to leave her guessing about how the encounter would unfold.

But still, she struggled with her feelings of helplessness.

As she approached Alexandria, she encountered a traffic jam from an overturned tractor trailer that delayed her considerably. But luckily, the businesses near the bridal shop were all closed at that early hour, and the streets were quiet. She parked, stepped to the tiny alcove, and rang the bell. Cherie buzzed her in and met her at the top of the stairs.

"This way, Amanda." She led her to the back of the store. "We're behind schedule, but I'll try to hurry."

She wheeled over a clothing rack, from which hung the finished wedding gown. "Isn't it beautiful? I can't wait to see you in it." She clutched her hands together and bounced up and down.

Amanda bent over the garment. On the plus side, it had the long, layered skirt she'd dreamed of. However, the material was tulle, not the satin or silk she'd envisioned. And the bodice was a backless halter.

Cherie nodded at her. "Let's get you out of these things and into your gown. Hopefully Malcolm did a good job with your measurements. We don't have time for any adjustments." As she spoke, she reached to Amanda's hip and unzipped her skirt, then unfastened the buttons of her blouse. She hung them both beside the gown.

"I'll let you take off your bra and panties yourself." She smiled.

Amanda crossed her arms over her body. "Did you say you chose some bridal lingerie?"

Cherie nodded. "They're for your going away ensemble. You don't wear a bra or panties with this gown."

Amanda struggled to process this information. Although she tried to avoid it, she'd sometimes worn low-cut dresses without a bra before, but she'd never gone out in public without panties.

"I can help you with the gown, once you... take your panties off. And your bra," she added, checking her watch again.

Once again, Amanda glanced at the tailors, already at work at their machines, apparently paying no attention. She looked back at Cherie, who shifted her hip, waiting.

She reached back, unhooked her bra, pulled her arms from the straps, and handed it to Cherie. With a sigh, she slipped her thumbs inside the elastic of her panties and pushed them down her legs and off.

"Oh, my," whispered Cherie to herself as her eyes flitted over Amanda's naked body. She turned to remove the gown from the rack.

"Amanda! I didn't hear you come in," said Malcolm as he bounded forward to embrace her, then held her at arm's length as he scrutinized her bare breasts.

Amanda startled at his voice, and stiffened as his hands slid down her body and settled on her hips. Her cheeks pink, she pulled away and turned her back. "Can I have my dress?" she asked Cherie, over her shoulder.

"Of course." Cherie gathered the gown, raised it high, placed it over Amanda's head, and helped her pull the skirt over her shoulders and down to her hips. With no hesitation, she lifted Amanda's breast as she pulled the halter into position, repeating the process on the other side.

Amanda saw the gown's neckline plunged to her waist. Even more problematically, the pleated tulle halter was almost completely sheer, and the curves of her breasts were readily discernable in the full length mirror.

As was the rest of her body.

Her eyes followed the lines of her hips and thighs down to her knees, where her lower legs finally disappeared amid a swirl of embroidered, beaded fabric. To her horror, even her skin tone was obvious through the transparent material.

She tracked upward to her crotch, and with the swish of her skirt, she caught a glimpse of her vulva, darkened by a triangular shadow of stubble. When she was still, the embroidered daisies provided concealment, but any abrupt movement would flash her center. Heat crept across her cheeks.

With an effort, she steadied her voice. "I see your point about the bra. But a pair of white panties would look fine beneath this dress. In fact, the whole thing's a bit shocking, frankly, even with the panties."

Cherie nodded slowly and tilted her head. "I thought you might say that. To be honest, I don't think I could wear this dress in public. But then, I don't have the body for it, at least not like you do."

She crouched at Amanda's feet. "Lift your foot, please." She passed a frilly garter over her foot, and slid it up to her thigh.

She stood and squeezed Amanda's shoulder. "Unfortunately, Percy was very specific. No bra, and no panties. He said you're pretty daring in your everyday dress, and since most of the guests are your co-workers --"

Amanda turned to look at her wide-eyed.

She dropped Amanda's bra and panties into a shopping bag, covered them with her skirt and blouse, and handed the bag to Malcolm, who carried it away. "I must have misunderstood. But it sounded like he said some of your co-workers had already seen you naked at the office."

Amanda covered her face with her hands.

Cherie looked both ways and then leaned closer. "Percy told me not to tell you the last part. He said you actually get off on it. On being forced to expose yourself to groups of men, and being embarrassed and humiliated. So he said I have to force you, if necessary."

She looked Amanda in the eye. "I didn't think that could possibly be true. The part about getting off on it. But I thought you should know what he's saying. Please don't tell him I told you." She handed her a bouquet.

Amanda was stunned by Cherie's words. Dizzy, she leaned against the dress rack to steady herself.

When Malcolm returned, he stopped to look Amanda up and down before taking her by the wrist. "You look amazing. But it's 10:05, and they're all waiting downstairs. Come this way, we'll use the other staircase."

Amanda managed to regain her equilibrium sufficiently to negotiate the stairs in her heels. They emerged into the art gallery.

Amanda saw the artwork and partitions had been cleared away, and a few rows of folding chairs were filled with guests. She recognized Wilson, Tyler, and Emma, as well as Chad, Cody, Megan, and Shane from her Farm training program. Behind Wilson were Dirk and Michelle Miller. She didn't know any of the other guests.

Her stomach did flip flops, and rumbled audibly. She should have had something other than just black coffee, she thought.

At the front stood two men with their backs to her. Behind her, some recorded organ music began, and Percy appeared at her side, and extended his arm. As he led her to the front, the guests turned to watch.

Initially, she kept her chin high, took slow, dignified steps, and tried to minimize the movement of her skirt. But when she felt the crowd's eyes on her, she looked down at herself, and as she feared, much of her body was plainly visible through her sheer dress beneath the bright lights of the gallery. She held her bouquet in front of her crotch, but with each step, her unfettered breasts quivered.

She heard a collective intake of breath as her co-workers' eyes absorbed the sweep of her hips and thighs, somehow more exposed than if she'd been completely naked. Their surprised expressions turned to shock as they registered the absence of any panties and realized the darker triangle they'd glimpsed at the junction of her thighs was her bare pubic mound.

The whispers of the guests built in volume until they competed with the recorded music. Voices from behind her reminded her that the rippling flesh of her bottom was equally on display. She pulled at Percy's arm, urging him forward, but he maintained his stately pace. Her chin trembled as she fought back tears.

When they reached the front, Percy kissed her cheek, then moved to stand to her left. She glanced to her right, and saw Jason Carruthers smiling back at her. He put his hand behind her head and leaned in for a passionate kiss.

It took her a moment to absorb the implications. Jason was the groom in this sham wedding, this ridiculous public ceremony serving as the prelude to some depraved male fantasy.

Outraged, Amanda tried to pull away, but Jason held her knot of braided hair in an iron grip as he slid his tongue into her mouth. Another surge of noise from the guests drowned out the sound of protest she made in her own throat.

Even if the ceremony was just for show, it was hard to think of a more repellant man to play the part of her betrothed. On first meeting him, she'd found him quite appealing, but his public pawing in the coffee line was intolerable, and his recently disclosed sexual peccadillos were too twisted to contemplate.

She pushed hard on his chest, with no apparent effect, then wrapped her fingers around his thick throat. After another moment, Jason released her, and she gave him a bitter scowl.

Across from her, a middle-aged man in a dark suit and burgundy tie raised his hand, and behind her the guests quieted.

"We are gathered here to join Amanda and Jason in holy matrimony."

He faced her. "Amanda, do you take this man, Jason Carruthers, to be your lawful wedded husband, to love, honor, and obey, from this day forth, as long as you both shall live?"

She almost laughed out loud. What was this nonsense about obeying? And anyway, he was supposed to ask Jason first. But she supposed neither of these were the real issue.

Percy nudged her. "Say, 'I do,'" he whispered.

It wasn't a real wedding, she reminded herself. Let him have his fun, make Percy happy, and obtain her coveted assignment.

"I do."

"Jason, do you take this woman, Amanda Stevens, to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forth, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

Percy handed Amanda a plain gold band, which she placed on Jason's finger, and he reciprocated.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jason pulled her close and began to kiss her chastely, but then turned her and very obviously groped her breast, drawing hoots from her co-workers as she struck his arm with increasing force.

"Asshole!" she spit at him when he finally released her.

Jason smirked, then turned and withdrew an envelope from his jacket and gave it to the officiant. He then handed a much thicker envelope to Percy.

Is that cash? she wondered. Did Percy just rent me out? Am I a prostitute now?

The officiant touched her hand and gave her a folded certificate. "A copy of your marriage license," he told her with a smile.

Amanda heard her pulse in her ears. She unfolded the thick paper. 'State of Virginia' and 'Certificate of Marriage' were emblazoned across the top, amid elaborate scrollwork. At the bottom left, she saw her signature, written in her own hand in blue ink, with Jason's signature below it. At the lower right were the signatures of the officiant and the County Clerk, overlaid by an official raised seal.

Apparently, she had just gotten married.

Cherie grabbed her elbow. "What a beautiful ceremony," she gushed, looking her up and down again. "You look simply stunning in that dress. I was afraid it was a little too much, but you pulled it off like --"

She bit her lip. "Well, I've never seen a bride who could carry that off like you did."

Behind them, the guests had risen from their chairs, talking excitedly, and Cherie whistled softly to get their attention. "Amanda's going to toss her bouquet now." She turned Amanda to face away from a small open area.