Undercover Bondage

Then her blindfold was torn off.

And there he stood. Agent Leonardo Bandini, her sometimes-partner and all-round pain-in-the-ass. She might be imagining him, but that grin caused her no less irritation. The other occupants of the hall seemed to be oblivious to the male spy, their gazes passing right through him as they appraised the helpless latex-clad woman instead. Then in a phenomenon Isabella recognised all too well, the perverted beauty contest and its attendees began to dissolve away. She peered down at her chest just in time to see the glossy catsuit recede into thin air, her breasts jiggling free of the material.

But not everything disappeared. Her upright metal prison remained frustratingly intact, allowing not the slightest bit of slack in the posture it enforced. Her gag stayed put, now glistening with saliva. And Leo, that bastard, was still grinning at her like a bawdy frat boy. If that meant he was really there, she would look forward to slugging the pervert later.

"I never imagined you one for the flesh market, Izzy." And now I bet his imagination is in overdrive, she thought grimly as she tried and failed to twist her lady parts out of his roving gaze and save a shred of dignity.

Just get me out of here, Leo, she glared, her meaning unmistakable even without words.

Leo approached the immobilised agent and began inspecting the shackles binding her. His hands explored each of the restraints in turn, performing a thorough assessment of her prison. First her ankles, raised by the elegant stilettos that trapped her nimble feet. The fetters were solid steel bands welded to the central pole, holding Isabella's ankles neatly together and in place. No slack there. Leo's hands continued up her slender legs to her knees, noting as he did her calves trembling from prolonged confinement. The bands above her knees were similarly welded to the pole—probably the only thing keeping her unsteady knees from knocking together. All of the metal bands were padlocked shut with no key in sight.

He kneeled behind her to examine her joined forearms. Steel cuffs bolted together around her wrists and elbows kept her arms fused and fixed, the only movement coming from her wriggling fingers. Circulation looked good, but he heard a sharp grunt as he tugged on her elbows. Maybe Isabella wasn't as supple as she liked to think.

Finally he came to the collar. It was elliptical in shape, keeping her head centred, and like the rest of the restraints it was part of the metal frame, rigid and unforgiving. Its position forced Isabella to keep her neck back and her chest forward, rather like a soldier standing to attention. A sexy naked soldier whose look of contempt would have them punished for insolence, at least.

The design of the device also had the devious consequence that when viewed from the front it offered an unobstructed view of the victim from neck to knees. It was a feature Leo now enjoyed as he stood before his attractive colleague and soaked in her prominent curves, smiling with the knowledge she was entirely at his mercy.

"Wow, they really did a number on you, huh. What on earth compelled you to let them get this far?"

Her gold eyes flared in anger. Did he really think she'd let someone do this to her? If he'd remove the damn gag already she'd gladly tell him about the drug and perhaps even offer a demonstration.

Leo ignored her glare and continued, "Maybe you were enjoying the assignment a little bit too much." He smirked as his eyes travelled down her pert body, lingering on her swollen red labia.

Well, duh, she thought defensively. I've just had a finger shoved in my-

A muffled cry of protest escaped her gag as Leo rubbed his own fingers through her moist lips.

"I never thought I'd see that tough little body of yours helpless," he murmured.

And you'll never see again if you don't release me this instant, she bristled.

Even with her perfect posture, Leo towered over her. But Isabella was well-accustomed to being the shortest woman in the room and wasn't the slightest bit intimidated by the man before her. Yet.

Leo glanced at his watch. It was the standard-issue wrist watch for field agents, packed with a few handy features you wouldn't find in a retail store, but its main purpose was still to tell the time. On their missions synchronisation was often crucial, so every agent had to wear the same watch with the same configuration. Isabella had foregone hers in assuming her cover as a model, and the multiple drug-indused hells she'd lived through meant that her body clock was now completely out of whack. In short, she had no idea of the time or even if it was daylight outside. But Leo did. He was checking his watch for another reason, a reason that sent a chill down her spine―he wanted to know how much time he had with her.

Whatever he saw made him smile, and Isabella shivered in response. She watched silently as he looked up at her, noticing for the first time how his pupils grew with lust at each glance in her direction. So her ordeal wasn't over yet. Just how far would he go?

"Hmm, looks like this rig is missing a part," said Leo, grabbing something from behind her. Isabella couldn't look down to see what it was, so she huffed in surprise when a thick greased dildo eased its way into her. It was a snug fit, given how her legs were locked together, but it must have been designed for this prison because once the shaft was buried deep within her, she heard it latch onto the cuffs above her knees. But the dildo wasn't the only new accessory now locked in place. A second object was jury-rigged to the same pole, its bulbous head nestling snugly against her sensitive clitoris.

Another click and this object buzzed to life, thrashing her little nub into arousal and sending waves of vibrations through her entire body.

"Oops," ginned Leo. "Probably should keep it on low."

The vibrations died down slightly, but still had the helpless agent moaning before a single minute had passed. Leo then took her shapely breasts in his hands, circling her nipples with his thumbs as he locked eyes with her. Isabella's amber eyes snapped in and out of focus, lids drooping and rising as she tried to meet his smug gaze. If she were able to move, Isabella would probably be writhing in ecstasy. Instead her cheeks trembled and her nose twitched as sexual energy hijacked her body.

Leo could scarcely believe his luck. He'd been sent as backup when Isabella had failed to report for several hours, expecting to find her mopping up the place of evidence and feigning innocence when he berated her for going dark. Instead, the prodigious agent had gotten herself captured, and there was really nothing innocent about her current predicament. The contraption that snared her was a work of pure deviance, and it fascinated him to think what other ways the dungeon master had intended to exploit Isabella's bared form before Leo had arrived and taken his cane along with his consciousness.

Seeing the voluptuous agent reeling in the throes of an orgasm was like seeing a celebrity's sex tape. Isabella Winters was a legend in spy circles, and here she was foaming at the mouth with her dainty pink nipples jutting out like teepees and her pussy positively dripping with arousal. Surreal was an understatement. How could he not take advantage of this moment?

He smiled and turned to the tripod-mounted camera beside him. He'd been careful to stop the recording before entering the frame, but now he stepped behind it and flicked the record button. Starting at her feet, he slowly panned the camera up her trembling form to her distressed face, then zoomed out to capture the whole scene. The next few minutes passed in a flash as he filmed Isabella's every twitch in glorious high-definition. He lost count of how many times she climaxed, her thighs shaking uncontrollably under the spell of the wand vibrator. Then, stopping the recording, he swapped out the memory card with a pre-prepared blank card, making it look like the footage was wiped, and tucked the priceless cartridge into his boot. Mission complete. Or mission salvaged, anyway. Now to get out of here.

Sighing, he approached his squirming charge and switched off the wand vibrator. Then he detached the shaft from the frame and gently slid it from her pussy. It was so tempting to treat her to a few good thrusts, but he'd already done too much. So instead he began meticulously unlocking each shackle using the hex key he'd snatched from the snoozing man's pocket. Ankles, thighs, wrists, elbows, and finally the collar. By this point Isabella's eyes were shut, her breathing heavy and slow.

Leo took a step back, expecting to catch her, but the moment her neck was released Isabella's eyes flew open and she stepped forward, aiming a solid kick at Leo's crotch. It connected, and he sank to the ground a moment after she did. Though her legs were shaky, Isabella was very much in control and wasted no time in overpowering the man who'd degraded her into a common slut. There was rope discarded nearby from an earlier scene, so she put it to good use on the male agent. Rigging was not her profession, but after a few minutes and a plethora of knots she was satisfied with the result. Leo lay awkwardly trussed against the wooden floor, looking up at her apprehensively, his eyes slightly bloodshot from the pain in his groin.

Isabella ripped the ball gag from her mouth and stuffed it in his, taking great pleasure in pulling the thing as tightly as she could secure it.

"Numskull," she hissed at him, which coincidentally was exactly how the gag was starting to make him feel. Isabella tore the stiletto heels from her feet and got up to retrieve the camera's memory card, snapping it in two. Then she ransacked the cupboards until she found the evidence she needed: a canister of distilled eroxide. Finally, she stripped the unconscious rope master and donned his oversized clothes, reclaiming a shred of dignity after a long day of humiliation. She was too sore and too incensed to care about cleaning up her trail, so she simply stumbled out the door, leaving the two men sprawled on the ground.

Leo swore through the gag.

Fortunately Isabella had left him clothed, so he was able to slip a small knife from his boot—the one without the memory card—and work it against the ropes. At least he still had the real memory card intact.

With his arms still bound behind him, Leo heard a groan to his left and twisted to see Isabella's rigger getting to his feet wearing only underwear. Mustering his strength, Leo spun around and kicked the man's feet out from under him, then struck his temple with a boot. Poor guy—he was going to have one hell of a headache when he finally woke up.

A few minutes later and Leo was completely free. Taking care not to jostle his fragile manhood, he gingerly stepped over to the door and let out a whistle as he beheld the corridor. Bodies littered the floor, some moaning in pain, others simply unconscious. He must have really made her mad.

Breaking into a run, he took off down the corridor and up the stairs to the nearest exit. It was there he found Isabella dispatching the last conscious employee of eSensual Studios, a dominatrix decked out in black leather straps and fishnet stockings. Isabella glared at him as she dealt the finishing blow, dropping the other woman the ground. Then she started for the exit.

"Stop," Leo commanded, making his voice strong and authoritative. Isabella narrowed her eyes at the order, but paused momentarily to listen.

"I don't care if you forgive me for what I did," he said. "You're sexy as hell and that body deserves all the loving it can get. But unless you listen very carefully to what I'm about to say, the whole world is going to know exactly what Isabella Winters sounds like when she moans like a common slut."

That got her attention. Isabella crossed the space between them in three steps and pinned Leo to the wall.

"Are you trying to blackmail me, you little weasel?"

"Large weasel, if anything," he said calmly, smirking slightly as he towered over her. "And I'm getting to that part."

"I destroyed that footage."

"You destroyed a blank cartridge. I'd already secured that juicy footage for my own records."

Her rage subsided slightly, but Leo could tell her heart was beating faster.

"I'm listening," she said tersely.

"Glad to hear it. Now, I daresay the agency would have little use for a secret agent whose identity has been so deliciously spread across the wires. So I have just two requests in exchange for my word that that will never happen. First, whenever we are alone, you will drop your gaze to my boots and address me as Master. Second, that you will answer honestly every question I ever put to you, without deflecting or withholding information. So, what do you say, Izzy?" She glared. The threat of losing her job had reignited her temper. And he knew how much she hated that pet name.

Every fibre of her being ached to reach out and wipe that smile off his face with her fist. But he had a point. And she wasn't going to lose her career over this sorry excuse for a man. She had no doubt he'd do it. The worm didn't care about anyone but himself. Knowing him, he'd probably wait until a moment when the reveal would have the most devastating effect. She'd be on a deep-cover mission, attending a high-society party to investigate some rich black-market dealer, attired in her finest lace, jewellery, and glammed to perfection, drawing the lustful desire of every man and the fierce envy of every woman in the room... Then every screen and projector in the mansion would start rolling the footage of her naked, exposed, vulnerable, her wanton cries filling every corner of the decorous venue. In the blink of an eye she would fall from the highest esteem to the lowest, becoming an object of ridicule and disgust. Was her stubborn pride really worth running the risk of such humiliation?

But what was with those requests? The Master thing was probably some personal fetish, but always being honest? That just seemed tame by Leo's standards. There had to be a catch.

"That's it?" she asked, unimpressed. "Just... words? I don't have to be your sex slave, do your ironing, and give you my soul while I'm at it? I'm disappointed."

"Well, if you're offering..."

She kneed him in the shin.

"That's it, yes. So, what will it be? Words or unemployment?"

As much as she hated giving in, she really had no choice. Slowly, painstakingly, she bowed her head. "Fine. I agree to your terms." For now.

Leo raised an eyebrow.

"I agree to your terms, Master."

"Good girl," he smiled. "Now, let's return to headquarters so the clean-up crew can do their job."

***

The eSensual Studios extraction soon became known as the agency's messiest operation in four years. Isabella almost did lose her job, but of course all was forgiven once her boss calmed down; she was simply too versatile an asset to lose. There was, however, a period of several dull weeks in which she was confined to paperwork. This gave Leo ample opportunity to call her into his office for the bizarrest series of interviews, yanking her chain like an untrained puppy. His persistence caused Isabella no small amount of irritation, for it served as a consistent reminder of her subjugation by a man inferior to her in every way—they both knew she was the better agent.

So, swallowing her pride, she fielded questions about her past work, her regrets and failures, her relationships, even her dreams. All the while staring at a weathered pair of hardened leather boots, wondering where the copies of that demeaning footage might be hidden. Gradually, she subconsciously began to anticipate these sessions, enjoying the cathartic release of exposing her mind to an interested ear. She just wished she got more of a response than the boots afforded her.

It wasn't until several months later that Isabella got that response. She was out in the field, her first mission since the ESS debacle. It was a routine recon mission observing a local drug dealer. No contact. Except when she arrived at the site, it was deserted. At first she thought the intel was bad, but then she noticed some used needles and swabs in the corner. She took a closer look, examining the label on a bottle.

Eroxide.

Suddenly she felt a prick in her neck as a dose was swiftly injected into her jugular. She retaliated, spinning around with her fists out. Her assailant sidestepped with lightning speed—or maybe it was her reactions that were slowing. Her vision bloomed, illuminating the man's face.

"Master? What're you..."

"Haven't you figured it out yet, Izzy?"

Isabella's nose twitched. Even in her rapidly deteriorating sobriety she hated that name. Leo was grinning now, he features warped and drifting apart as her mind succumbed to the drug.

"Last time we did something like this together we were on a tight schedule, so I thought I'd clear your calendar for you and ensure we have plenty of time to play. How does that sound, Izzy?"

Her mouth moved as she fumbled for an honest answer that reflected her unwillingness. She found none. Because despite her reservations there was a primal hunger forming in her eyes. The drug was just a catalyst—it was her own desires that surfaced under its influence, and it was her own desires that now flooded her with euphoria and brushed away her inhibitions. Even though she knew the drug's effects perfectly well, she was powerless to fight its insidious influence. In five minutes she'd be begging to be used like a cheap slut and her years of advanced training would only shorten the humiliation by minutes at best. Damn drugs. She was in Leo's thrall now...

"First question," he said firmly, taking her chin in his hand to ensure he had whatever remained of her attention. "Would you rather be gagged or blindfolded?"

"Gagged," Isabella mumbled, her reply as automatic as breathing. Almost immediately a hard rubber ball was strapped into her pliable mouth. For a moment she felt indignation, for that wasn't how this honesty thing was supposed to work: she'd agreed to give answers, not compliance. Then her mind slipped into a fantasy of its own design and any prudish inhibitions were lost in a drug-induced haze of lust and wantonness.

The agent collapsed to the stone floor, her muscles no longer answering to her will. Leo knelt over her, smiling as he enjoyed the simple exchange of power, his hands on her cheeks, thumbs brushing her lips as he pressed the ball gag into place. This woman was his superior in every way, yet here she was drooling on the floor, a slave to his whim. But while her body was relaxed and defenceless, her mind was alive and over-stimulated with sights and sensations designed to awaken an insatiable appetite for sexual delights and shameless depravity. Such a wonderful drug.

Leo began to strip his prey and prepared to feed that appetite long into the night.