Capture Team Pt. 04: FACE OF EVIL

"I was acting?" Mary asked.

"Cliff, secure the prisoner," Jenny roared, "return her to the Hen House."

"I don't get to lock myself up this time," Mary pretended to pout. Grabbed by the shoulder, Mary, looking at Cliff's arm, protested, "Not so rough."

.

My promotion celebration began one minute after mid-night in premises where we had taken indenturees. Releasing Cliff from chastity, I ordered Cliff to cut the clothes off a landlady we caught looting the premises vacated by an indenturee. Screaming great curses as she was forced to watch me perform a double oral on Cliff and Logan, the landlady was hushed with the reminder that she would soon join her tenants in a shipment to the Institute.

I wanted to drag the landlady to the waiting van naked, but that might have attracted attention. Instead we drove the patrol car around back and deposited her naked body in the trunk.

As much as I enjoyed taking command with all the deference, ceremony and prerogatives, I faced the reality that as easily as the bars were pinned on, they could be plucked off. My career might begin and end right here at the desk in my new office.

The first criterion of a good raid is intelligence, where was LT Bernie?

I dispatched Cliff in civilian clothes to visit our undercover agent Jane in the dorm room she shared with our informant Bliss. In other circumstances, I might have preferred to have conducted the interviews myself, but the videotape of the interviews confirmed my decision to have ordered Cliff not to disclose Jenny's departure from the station.

Cliff properly had our informant strip for a personal inspection. Bliss was tart as she disrobed. "You really ought to get a copy of the tape," Bliss taunted Cliff as she held her arms in the air for Cliff to feel under her boobs, "Professor Miller filmed a scene as a class project. Topless girls in shorts and tights tap danced in a line from DDs on the left to A cups on the right. I was in the middle somewhere; but Jane's bouncing boobs won a spot on the far left."

I chuckled as I watched on the monitor over the door, the care with which he strip -- searched Bliss. A week in the iron jockstrap taught Cliff a lesson.

Reviewing the tape confirmed my decision to keep Jenny's departure from her sister Jane. Heck at our induction at indenture, we're stripped for inspection and examined like cattle. Our person, even our last name, becomes an Institute asset. Voluntary indenturees, like me and Jane, passed through a door with the legend institutum est nostra familia, reinforcing the concept that the Institute had become our family.

What did that really mean? Would Jane work as hard for me as she did for her sister?

Still, while Cliff kept news of Jenny's departure from Jane, he did back off his request that Jane undress at Jane's threat to have Nurse Jenny correct toxic masculinity.

I'd have to talk to Cliff about allowing resistance from subjects exempting themselves from proper protocols.

On tape, Jane and Bliss reported that, following filming the topless dance sequences, Professor Wendy Miller recruited them as extras in LT Bernie's production. The girls had certain days to wait in front of the dorm. Picked up in a paneled delivery van, Jane and Bliss were searched.

"It's a good toss," Jane told Cliff.

"Yeah," Bliss, hands on hips, spreading her legs for inspection, informed Cliff, "Fuzzy head Bernie likes to feel the girls up. I like to give him pluck when he lifts my bra up to play with my nipples. 'Ooo, can't you wait until we shoot the shower scene? You won't wreck the elastic in my underwear."

Jane and Bliss agreed that after driving around for a while, the vehicle stopped in an underground garage where the passengers alit to commence filming.

Told that the Institute prohibited activating their transponders, Bliss remarked as she bent over to pull her butt cheeks apart, "inside the building, we're stripped, frisked, touched and felt up pretty thoroughly. What do you expect? It's porn. Oh, there's a lot of dead time when we can float around the building. All the doors and exits are locked up."

"You get antsy," Jane added to Bliss' account, "Between takes, the stars get a bathrobe, the average slut like us are either naked or close to it. You have to move around to keep warm."

Shown a picture of Elise, Bliss and Jane identified Elise as one of the main starlets. "Elise is the only one allowed to drive there -- wherever there is -- in her own car and bring her cell. Shooting often has to be cut short because Elise has to rush home when the babysitter hired through an agency has to leave."

Even without the transponders planted on Elise, I pretty much had surmised that the shoots would take place in Robbins's auditorium a theatre in such a remote part of the University campus that direct observation would have spooked our target by disclosing our presence and interest.

Reviewing photographs of the premises from the University's website and considering information from Bliss, the best time to run the raid would be the confusion when the shoot ended. A sunken driveway surrounded by concrete retaining walls led to the underground garage. The best place would be the underground garage when cast and crew were boarding the van to return home or to the dorms.

How do I get the plans to the building?

While we waited for the raid, I had to keep Logan and Cliff from becoming antsy. Some steamy showers in our quarters upstairs in the mansion seemed to alleviate the tension and to relax the boys enough so that I could shave their pubes bald. I admired the pearly white skin that peered out from the bare skin when I cleared the suds away.

Secrecy and deception are necessary to the success of any mission. Like, typical guys they did not suspect I intended to attach the cock -- and -- ball jam before the raid. The chastity cages would fit plum to the skin if their pubes were depilated.

"With every pleasure," I released a wistful sigh when I kissed the exposed white skin, "there must be pain. Let Mama make things better."

Oh, I was the boss but I had to put up a front. I needed the plans for the Robbins Auditorium. The Institute now had possession of Peter Parker, the engineer who had the contract to rehabilitate the Robbins Center.

"Oh, Tina, I was so sorry I had to divert you to River Bend," Dr Crenshaw accepted my call, "The University projects that Peter had contracts for promise great rewards for the Institute. At the moment, I'm thinking of sending Peter back to River Bend intact to run his contracting company -- for the Institute. I may even return his wife Elise to River Bend and indenture her to her old job at the University -- so long as she reports in on time. I'm considering her request for an extension at the moment."

"Leave her request under consideration," I suggested, "that way you can magnanimously excuse a lateness if the need arises and you wish or assess additional time if the situation warrants. Flexibility is the essence to success."

In the background I could hear the voices of Institute Executives pleading with Dr Crenshaw to terminate the call and attend to another security breach that the programmer had discovered.

"I like your thinking, Tina," Dr Crenshaw laughed, "I don't want the University to know my interest in Peter's projects. Why do you need to see Peter's sketches? His office was in his house. If you need his sketches, why not go there and seize his personalty?"

Dr Crenshaw's attention was diverted by an Executive beseeching him that they needed a decision on the spot about the latest security breach uncovered.

"Tina," Dr Crenshaw, pausing to sternly admonish chattering colleagues to give him minute, suggested, "Just go to the front door and ask for the sketches. That should do it. Just ask for the drawings."

Should I interest Dr Crenshaw in the reason behind my request, the transponders implanted on Elise Parker. I made a snap decision not to involve Dr Crenshaw further. Secrecy and deception are necessary partners in a successful mission. "Thank you, Dr Crenshaw," I ended the conversation.

Tracking Elise from her transponders, I could tell she'd spend regularly left her house at!215 h (12:15 PM) to spend afternoons out for lunch and shopping, promptly returning at 1630h (4:30PM) just after her school age children arrived at home. A secret supply of cash? I wondered. Our intelligence from Bliss was that Elise used a babysitter service at night which furnished. With the child not yet in school, it was likely the service used during the day was the same service Elise used at night.

A few days surveillance on Elise's house showed the babysitter, the same person on the days we observed, arrived a few minutes after 1200 and was gone by 1645 (4:30 PM). I might have preferred using Jane as the stand -- in, but Bliss fit the general description.

What would I do with the babysitter? I decided I would risk detaining her under the Fugitive Detention Act. The Institute, under police powers granted it, could detain any person in a reasonable manner and for a reasonable time who is reasonably suspected of having fled from Justice or from an indenture to service or labor pending investigation into that person's correct status. I might have to detain this girl a couple of days. Theoretically, I should ask Dr Crenshaw for permission, but he was busy and with another security breach. There was no need to bother him.

I was surprised how easily Dr Crenshaw's advice to walk to the front door and ask worked, though not in the way he might have expected. Once Elise was out and safely away from the house, Cliff drove up to the side door in one of the cars we seized during the raids. I drove up in front of the house in an unmarked car right behind the babysitter's car. When I approached the front door, Bliss remained in my car.

At the front door, the babysitter bolted when she saw me. I charged into the house after her. She raced to the side door where she crashed into Cliff. He managed to cling to her as she collided with him and knocked him down.

Pulling her to her feet, I dragged her back into the house. "Wake the baby up," I warned her, "and I'll apply the tazz to your sweet spot. Why the hurry to leave -- we just arrived? A warrant?"

"I'm trying to raise the money to make a late payment," the girl protested, "I slave to catch up with debt. My car broke down. I paid for repairs and missed a couple of payments. To make a few extra bucks I clean up her kitchen and her bathroom while I mind the baby."

I was about to ask the girl to drop her dungarees for inspection of her bar code, when Bliss who had joined us inside the house, whispered, "I need her clothes. Get her undressed. Have Cliff watch her clean the kitchen. I need to shower, get my scent off me. Wearing her clothes and using her perfume should give me a fragrance close enough to hers to pass." Spotting a backpack like those college girls carry, Bliss snatched the satchel and opened it up, "her perfume is probably in there."

My penetrating glare at Bliss drew the observation, "Elise is an actress. Elise might not notice the change of face but a change of costuming?"

"And the bath?" I prodded her.

"First opportunity to bathe without a transman leering at me in the dorms," Bliss remarked, "Jane got herself on an academic report for splashing some soap in a his/her face. Trans-men may crowd women out of women's sports, scholarships and employment but porn is the preserve of a real woman." Turning to Cliff with a taunt, Bliss smirked in a breathless, audible whisper, "You can feel me up some other time."

It didn't take long for me to locate the sketches of the Robbins auditorium and load them in my car. Fluffy white bathrobe that reached down to her ankles. "Well, Bliss, it's up to you to play the feature role. Are you up to it?"

"I'm playing an easy part -- a silly college girl -- working off a debt I foolishly incurred," Bliss went about cleaning the mirrors and the vanity. "If I lose my way in the script, I'll smile and giggle."

With the plans, I found myself behind my desk planning the problem. Extra people were sent in from the farm to watch the access points and back up our raiding party. The extras, all volunteers appreciated the excitement. "We strike when the gates to the underground garage open. Use our vans to block the exit."

Cliff and one of my extras asked, "What is the likely response?"

"Cast and crew will be trapped," We were looking at the architect's sketches on the computer screen above my door. Inked copies of the architect's renderings were spread across my desk, "in their cargo vans when drivers scoot or try to. Likely a few will make it outside and try to scale the high retaining walls which surround the entrance to the underground garage."

Cliff smirked, "What do we do then? Give them a hand? Help them scale the walls?"

"Tazze them and cuff them," I replied, "They're fleeing the scene of a crime.

Concealing or assisting a fugitive indenturee is a crime."

"And our target, LT Bernie?" one voice asked.

"Intelligence reports LT Bernie and Professor Wendy retreat to his private apartment at the final cut of the night. The apartment is located in the oculus, the bubble in the roof. Once the targets are in the apartment, there's no exit.

My team will take the LT and his girlfriend Wendy. Wendy gets chucked into one of the vans with the girls. The guys are brought inside here. People from the farm will process the men on the scene."

Preparations and knowledge of the terrain pain off. We pulled a dozen men, mostly boys from the college, off the vans. When my order to disrobe drew blank stares, I advised them, "I'm impressed, so shy, so modest, Yet, I suggest, most who get undressed with a transit pass will be blessed, those who persist, who want to grapple, will face the surgeon's scalpel."

They stood stunned for a second or two. Then suddenly I had a dozen naked men facing a wall. As I read each code and implanted a transponder in the right hemisphere of each butt, I recited a little jingle, "I claim without apology, an expertise in male butt-ology, Some are tough, taut and muscular, amiable qualities for a star, others are graced by a curved swirl, soft and round like a girl."

After the raid, between processing prisoners back at our dungeon in the basement of the Riverside mansion, Cliff reminded me, "the hardest part of the job is less than serene," Looking up at the computer monitor above my door, Cliff quipped, "you have to face the image on the screen."

Processing prisoners gave me a moment of comic relief, Stripped on the tailor's platform and prodded, Elise, rubbing her rear end, asked permission to stand in my office. "I hope to be out of here. I need to call my attorneys."

"You can't," I was firm.

"I was given time to report in," Elise maintained.

"Live in a dream and awake in a nightmare," I reminded her, "your 10 days expired. You're an absconder. Do you have else?"

As much as I enjoyed taking command with all the deference, ceremony and prerogatives, I faced the reality that as easily as the bars were pinned on, they could be plucked off. My career might begin and end right here at the desk in my new office. I had to deal with the charismatic LT Bernie. Bracing myself to face the image on the screen, I nodded to Cliff to produce LT Bernie. I sat behind my desk and waited for Lt Bernie.

Though wrists and feet were secured and his genitalia were locked down in the cock -- and -- ball jam, LT Bernie retained his poise when Cliff guided him before my desk. Looking around, Bernie quipped, "Hmm, this is the place it begins and ends."

Before I could ask Bernie if he had anything he wanted me to report to the Institute, Bernie, assuming the deep voice of command, attempted to take charge. After effusively applauding my planning and execution of the raid, Bernie demanded "I need to report my findings to the Institute Director. Get me my clothes or issue me a utility uniform. I'll be sure to report your total cooperation!"

A strange feeling came across me. I felt myself carried along by Bernie's speech. My breathing became deeper. I could feel the temperature rising. How I wanted to get out of these clothes and fuck --

I drew a deep breath. "I'll report your request to the Institute," I uttered my response in a dry voice. "Anything else?"

"When I reveal to the Institute a plan I've developed," Bernie's gleamed with dollar signs as he bragged, "for baiting the young woman into submitting to capture as easy as inducing young women to over -- spend themselves into debt, I could end up in the directorate. I intend to reduce the process of credit -- indenture -- over extension -- capture into an assembly line. You could be part of it." Bernie, turning to look behind him at Cliff, implored Cliff. "My proposal could revolutionize Institute security. It's a question of do you want to join the future or end up going to market head -- shaven cuffed when Security is cut back?"

I blotted Bernie and his promises out of my mind. I nodded to Cliff. Cliff drew his taser. Had Cliff been carried along by Bernie's magnetism. Would Cliff take aim and fire at me? I closed my eyes and waited.

Dazed Bernie fell to the floor. Cliff inserted a ball gag in Bernie's mouth.

Standing over Bernie, hands on my hips, I declared, "When you sign the indenture, the Institute decides." To Cliff, I ordered, "Put Bernie in the cage outside, away from other prisoners. Even with his balls in a cock jam, and a ball gag sealing his mouth, he has enough charisma to persuade others to do his bidding."

"Anything else?" Cliff asked.

"Have someone from the farm guard him. Get Logan," I ordered, "Meet me upstairs in quarters. Your cock locks are coming off. Mama needs to fuck herself blind."