Holey Nightie: Golden Tongues Affair

James humped her bottom as if it meant the difference between life and death; as if by ramming her hole sufficiently, he could bring back all his fallen comrades with this single act of belittlement. Every thrust was so forceful that as he drilled her backside the rug they were on slid inch by inch across the room. James was beside himself with twisted glee. How humbling for the Holey Nightie. After tonight, she would know her place. She would be just another incarcerated spy, broken and humiliated by the best spy ever born...James Bondage! Her reign of terror was finally at an end!

But, alas, twenty minutes into her ass pounding, James was again disappointed. Instead of being degraded and embarrassed, Natasha was sighing and moaning, her body twitching and heaving. James felt a warm gush of fluids bathing his thighs. Holey Nightie was having yet another orgasm! And while he himself was wasted, worn ragged from this four hour long hump-fest, she seemed full of energy and enjoying herself immensely! She bucked backward against his invading tool, squealing with unbridled pleasure.

"Oh, yes, James!" she screamed, her face flushed with passion. Gasps and moans burst continually from between her drooling lips. "I've been...such a very...naughty girl! Oh, yes...I have! So bad...so evil...despicable even! I need to be...punished for...my sins! Punish me! I'm so....soooooo evil! Such a bad...BAD Nightie! Fuck me! Spank me! Punish me...so, soooooo good! Oh, yes, James! Oh, yes! YES! Fuck me, spy boy! Fuck naughty Nightie ...so hard....so deeeeep! Oh, yes! More! More! Harder! Deeper! Shove those... secret agent...balls...right...INSIDE ME! OH! OH! OHHHHHHH! Yes...yes....YESSSSSSSS!!"

The final indignity belonged to James himself. For some perverse reason, those twisted words inflamed his desire, and he again shot his secret agent wad into her. Grunting his passion, he filled yet another of her orifices with his seed. Against his dwindling will, he enjoyed it. His plan to humble the world's number one female assassin had backfired, and he felt dirty...used. He despised every groin-tugging spurt that filled her wicked bum!

When Natasha finally slumped happily to the crumpled rug beneath them, James slipped from her tight opening and rolled dejectedly onto his side. He was the world's best fuck...but Holey Nightie had taken all he could give and thrown it right back into his face. He'd failed his fallen comrades. He could still deliver her into the hands of justice, but his pride had taken a hit. She had bested his libido. Everything he could dish out she took in stride, having an orgasm every time. Yes, it made him feel great as a lover, but as a secret agent bringing a criminal to her knees? No, he'd failed....miserably.

Natasha couldn't help but agree...totally. In fact, as James lay there in his shame, he made no move to capture her at all. His mind was too busy chastising itself to see what was coming. But when he rolled onto his back to stare unbelievingly at the ceiling, THAT was his final undoing.

As he lay there, chest heaving, mind trying slowly to accept the reality of the situation - that he'd been USED by this remorseless vixen purely for the sake of sex - suddenly a smiling face appeared upside-down in his field of vision. Holey Nightie, grinning malevolently, glared down at him. Her eyes conveyed deep satisfaction, and more than a hint of pity.

"That, Mr. Bondage, was the most delicious fuck I've ever had. I guess England has a few good agents after all, eh? You were a simply delightful lay, I must say." Her hair was a mess, her eyeshadow trickled down her face, her lipstick had smeared all over her mouth, and sweat - and other liquids - dripped from her chin, but she smiled the smile of a truly satisfied woman. But that smile was still as evil as her hardened eyes. "And now, Mr. Bondage, while I thank you for an immensely pleasurable day, I'm afraid it's time for you to say good-bye. I'm sure we could make wonderful music together for a long, long time, but you could never work my side of the tracks, and I could never work yours. So, sadly, this must be farewell. But take with you the fact that I've finally found my match, sexually, in you, kind sir. And in honor of your supremely satisfying efforts here with me today, I am going into retirement. So, that cock that you're so in love with has indeed saved the world. I'll be going into hiding...and I won't be killing any more of your fellow agents. Unless one should somehow find me again, of course. I do have to protect myself. But you will be the pride of my collection. I know I could never top the fun I've had with you, so it all ends here. That should be something rewarding to take to your grave with you. I owe you that much. So, sleep well, James. And thank you for a most wonderful diversion." With that she kissed him gently on the lips....a kiss of death.

Still exhausted and dejected, James reacted much too slowly to the danger. With the speed of a python, Holey Nightie mounted his head again, crashing her drenched sex down onto his face for the final time. James's hands shot up, trying to dislodge her, but they were far too slow. The weight of the still attached bed posts combined with his own exhausted state, seemed too much to overcome. Reaching down, Natahsa - alias the deadly Holey Nightie - grabbed his semi-flaccid member and yanked hard on it. James screamed in agony, the cry depleting every last molecule of oxygen from his already straining lungs. At the apex of the scream, Holey Nightie crushed his head under her full weight.

James struggled valiantly. But Holey Nightie had wrapped her legs around his in such a way that he could get no leverage. His flailing hands she placed on her breasts, and James's male instincts set them to fondling the soft, warm flesh. Such an insidious means of misdirection. He fondled her tits and pinched her nipples even as he gasped his last breath. Natasha's crotch and bottom prevented any more air from entering his lungs, and he slowly drifted away. Though his persistent fingers had held tightly to her nipples - stubbornly refusing to relinquish their precious cargo - to the very last second, those two boob-fondling hands finally fell weakly to his sides. There was no more squirming beneath her sex. His body went limp. The twitching stopped. James Bondage, the world's number one spy - had succumbed to the devious and unholy Holey Nightie, as had so many others. But, even in death, he had accomplished his mission. There would be no more spies...negated, by this evil woman.

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Two days later, James's body arrived at HQ. It was the same as all the others. When Number One sadly trudged to the morgue, he was devastated to see his best agent laid out like that. So pale, so lifeless...yet grinning from ear to ear - a smile that nearly split his face in two. It was unnerving. As with the others, his tongue was gone, and his neck and shoulders were speckled with gold. A baggie-wrapped note, with a small piece of red satin folded inside it, was in his mouth. The block letters crawled into Number One's spine and ignited his brain with the fires of indignation. It read:

My dear, wonderful, generous Number One,

I must thank you for this wonderful man. He was by far the best agent you had. He was simply a delight to have "relations" with. I would ask you to send more like him, but sadly, I have decided to go into retirement. The Holey Nightie is no more. Mr. Bondage has the last strip of my nightie that I will be parting with. My nightie will henceforth be hung up for good. But oh, what a wonderful last fling you've sent me off with! In return for the shard of my nightie - the last such shard to be doled out to a deserving EX-agent - I have kept something of Mr. Bondage's for myself. Besides his wonderful tongue, I mean. It seems Mr. Bondage had more wonderful "parts" than just his lovely tongue. Please forgive me my greed in keeping it for myself. But, if I'm going into retirement, I'm going to need something to keep me smiling...and what I've taken from him should do nicely. It's a small price to pay for my willingness to retire, no? Thank you again, and please don't try to find me. You wouldn't want Holey Nightie to come out of retirement, now, would you?

Yours truly, A very satisfied...and eternally grateful Holey Nightie.

When the morgue attendant lifted the sheet, Number One saw with horror what her "payment" was for getting out of the spy business. Gasping loudly, he realized that Holey Nightie had taken more than James's tongue for her sick collection. She'd altered her m.o. and taken a second prize from the man with the license to fuck. Number One would never be able to get the chill out of his bones...

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Back in her bedroom, Natasha strolled happily to her "collection" closet. She opened the double doors and smiled at her trophies. She touched each golden tongue lovingly, moving from the very first she'd collected years ago, to the most recent, barely forty-eight hours old. Caressing the last, she sighed, "Oh, James, if only you weren't such a goody-two-shoes. We could've made such earth-shattering love together, for all time." She leaned forward and kissed the tip of the golden tongue, smiling wistfully. "Such a talented tongue," she said, running her fingertips along it's golden smooth edges. Then, with a deep sigh, she closed the door and locked it securely.

Walking to her bedstand, sitting on her brand new bed, she smiled a decadent smile. Her newest trophy, a trophy of a new and different kind, sat atop its mahogany base, nestled between the metal bands that held it in place in an upright position. The shining, golden penis, a stout twelve inches long, rose regally above the bloated sack at its base. The detail from sack to tip was astonishing. It had looked exactly the same when it was plummeting deeply into her mouth. She remembered every vein and tiny ripple of muscle, the shape of the head, the size of the tiny slit. Just seeing it again evoked memories of how it felt, how it tasted, even how it smelled. But it was much easier to focus on it in this state, free of the constant, blurring movement. Smiling happily, she made a mental note to give her personal goldsmith a substantial bonus for his masterful work in generously plating the prodigious pecker without obliterating a single juicy detail.

Natasha lifted the golden erection gently from its base, fondling it lovingly. She rubbed it on her cheeks, kissing and nuzzling it, sighing at the memories it evoked. Then she reached over and turned out her bedside lamp. She snuggled deeply under the covers, still fondling the shining schlong. She slid it slowly down her body, rubbing the tip of the head around and around her nipples, along her belly, down between her legs.

In the darkness, she held the golden phallus firmly and guided the head along her wet slit. Slowly, she pushed it in deeper, one millimeter at a time. Grasping it by the shiny testicles, she then rammed it roughly into her steaming core, pushing it in as deep as it would go. As she thrust it in and out, in and out, over and over, her lips curled into an ecstatic smile. She drooled and writhed under the covers. Gasping, remembering, fantasizing, she became lost in pleasuring herself with the toy that would be hers forever. It would be the one thing that kept her from resuming her career as the Holey Nightie, so it would have to please her constantly, thoroughly. And she had no doubts that it would. Yes, it would do its former owner proud. She'd see to that.

Her mind melted. Deep inside herself she thrust the golden member. Her eyes fluttered shut as she squirmed around the long, hard cock. She licked her lips and moaned her pleasure.

"Ohhhhhhhh, Jaaaaaames," she sighed, "I've been such a bad girl. Punish evil Nightie sooooo goooood. Ohhhhhh.....yes, James, yessssssss..." Her orgasms began shortly thereafter...and continued long into the starless night.

END

"Holey Nightie - The Golden Tongues Affair"

copyright Bacomicfan/Mike, 2003