A day at the spa FFF/F

[Hottbatgirl69]

I rewrote this story a while ago and wanted to update here the complete version

Day at the spa
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Description
In the dimly lit corner of an opulent mansion, Christina, known to the underworld as Agent Amber, observed the swirling dance of shadows and wealth. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, scanned the room with the precision of a hawk, not missing a single detail. At 25, she had the poise of a seasoned operative, her 5'4" frame enveloped in a fiery red dress that whispered secrets of its own with each step she took. Her hair, a vibrant cascade of auburn locks, brushed her shoulders, framing her delicate features. The dress, a clever choice for the mission, had a slit that revealed the muscular legs beneath, a silent testament to her rigorous training regimen.

The heels of her red strap sandals clicked against the marble floor as she approached the host of the evening, John. He was a man of questionable tastes, known in certain circles as the purveyor of the deadliest weaponry. Her mission, her first for British Intelligence, was to charm him, to coax from his lips the details of his next illicit deal. John, a bear of a man with a thick beard and a penchant for gold jewelry, greeted her with a smile that never quite reached his eyes. He had the look of someone who enjoyed the thrill of danger, but Christina knew better than to underestimate the cunning behind that façade.

They danced, their bodies moving in a rhythm as old as espionage itself—the dance of deception. She fluttered her lashes, her voice a siren's call that promised nothing but delivered everything he wanted to hear. With each twirl, she inched closer to her goal. The conversation flowed as smoothly as the champagne that bubbled in their flutes, and she felt the tension in the room crackle with the electricity of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

Her hand, adorned with a ring that concealed a state-of-the-art fingerprint scanning device, brushed against his. The briefest of touches, but it was enough. The device whirred silently, capturing the unique pattern of John's fingerprint. Christina's heart raced, but she kept her smile in place. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for, the first step in securing her place as a top-tier spy. But the night was still young, and the real challenge lay just beyond the gleaming doors of the party—upstairs, in a room protected by a biometric lock, where the map of the next weapons shipment was rumored to be hidden.

Excusing herself from John's embrace, she sashayed towards the staircase, her legs moving with the grace of a gazelle. The guards at the top, two burly men with stern faces, barely registered her presence as she slipped by, a phantom in heels. The tension grew as she approached the door. It was a sleek, black monolith, unassuming yet menacing, like a silent sentinel guarding the crown jewels. She held her breath, applied the stolen print to the scanner, and waited for the click that would grant her entry.

The lock released, and she stepped into the room. The scent of leather and expensive cigars filled the air, hinting at the clandestine deals made within these walls. She scanned the room, her eyes darting from the gleaming mahogany desk to the walls adorned with maps and blueprints. There it was—a manila envelope, thick with the promise of intel. With trembling hands, she pulled out the map and took several pictures with the high-res camera embedded in her ring. The adrenaline surged through her veins as she stuffed the envelope back into its hiding place.

Her mission half-complete, she descended the stairs and melted back into the party. She called Betty, her handler and confidante, her voice a low murmur in the cacophony of laughter and clinking glasses. "I've got it," she whispered into the sleek earpiece hidden beneath her hair. "Stay for fifteen more minutes, then leave," Betty instructed, her voice calm and steady. "Do not raise suspicion." Christina nodded, even though she knew Betty couldn't see her. She had been trained for this, and she would not fail.

At the bar, she ordered a drink, her eyes searching the room for any signs of trouble. That's when she saw Maedeh, a vision of exotic beauty with olive skin and dark, almond-shaped eyes. She was dressed to kill, her figure hugged by a black dress that left little to the imagination. Christina felt a pang of something—curiosity, perhaps?—as Maedeh bought her a drink and introduced herself. They chatted amicably, Christina's mind racing as she tried to discern the woman's motives. But the conversation took a strange turn, and suddenly she felt lightheaded. The room spun, and before she could react, everything went black.

When Christina awoke, she found herself bound to a luxurious bed, a sticky piece of tape over her mouth. Panic set in, her eyes darting around the unfamiliar room. The air was thick with the scent of gardenias, and the light was a soft glow that cast eerie shadows on the walls. She wriggled against the silk sheets, trying to free herself, but the knots held firm. The last thing she remembered was Maedeh's concerned expression as she guided her to the bathroom. What had happened? Had she been discovered?

Maedeh entered the room, her heels clicking against the polished hardwood floor with a rhythm that echoed Christina's racing heart. Behind her, two women followed, each a testament to the beauty and strength of the female form. One was a blonde goddess, her skin a canvas of golden tans, her eyes a piercing blue that seemed to cut through the shadows. The other was an American beauty, her dark skin glowing in the soft light, her physique a sculpture of power and grace. Both were dressed in yoga pants and crop tops that hugged their athletic builds, leaving little to the imagination. They moved with a silent confidence that spoke of their training and the secrets they kept.

Maedeh leaned over Christina, her brown eyes narrowing as she ripped the tape from her mouth. A lipstick stain remained, a crimson smear that seemed to mock Christina's predicament. "Who are you working for?" Maedeh's voice was a velvet purr, but the steel beneath it was unmistakable. "Why did you come to my party?"

Christina, her mind racing, played it cool. "John's party," she corrected, her voice a tad too casual. "I'm just here to enjoy the company." She hoped the lie sounded convincing, her breathing steady despite the fear that knotted her stomach.

Maedeh leaned closer, her eyes darkening. "I think you're more than just a social butterfly, Miss...Amber, was it?" She emphasized the name with a sneer. "Let me show you something."

The Persian woman tapped on a sleek, wall-mounted screen, and suddenly Christina's own image filled the display. She watched herself in the grainy footage, her movements jerky as she slipped past the guards and into John's study. The video was damning, capturing her every move as she planted the device to copy John's fingerprint and later searched for the map. A cold sweat broke out on her forehead, but she kept her expression neutral.

Maedeh hit play again, this time focusing on the moment Christina pocketed the envelope. "Care to explain?" she demanded, her voice like a whip crack in the tense silence.

Christina swallowed hard, buying time. "I...I don't know what you're talking about." But the footage didn't lie, and the women standing sentinel by the door didn't look like they were in the mood for excuses.

Maedeh sighed, a sound that was more akin to a hiss. "John," she spat the name like a curse, "my husband, he's a fool. He lets his greed cloud his judgment. He thinks I don't know his games, that I don't understand the business we're in. But I do." She straightened, her gaze boring into Christina's. "And now, you're going to tell me who sent you, or I'll make sure you regret ever setting foot in my home."

The blonde woman stepped forward, a wicked smile playing on her lips as she produced a set of handcuffs. "We can make this easier on you," she said, her Asain accent a stark contrast to Maedeh's. "Or we can make it harder."

Christina knew she was in trouble. Her training had prepared her for capture, but she had never expected it to come from someone like Maedeh. She had underestimated the woman, thinking her nothing more than a pretty face in a dangerous world. Now, she realized the error of her ways.

The two guards loomed closer, their expressions grim. Christina knew she had to act fast. She could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her, the walls closing in. The taste of fear was bitter in her mouth, but she forced a smile, playing the part of the clueless socialite to the hilt.

"Maedeh," she cooed, her voice sugary sweet, "I'm sorry if I've upset you. But I can assure you, I'm not here for any of your... business dealings. I'm just a guest, enjoying the party."

Maedeh's eyes narrowed, her lip curling in disbelief. "Save it," she snapped. "You're coming with us." The blonde woman leaned in, showing handcuffs that glinted menacingly in the soft light. With surprising strength, she untied Christina from the bed.

The two Amazonian guards, each took an arm, their grips like iron. Maedeh stepped back, watching the scene unfold with cold detachment. She tore a strip of duct tape from a roll and stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Christina's. "You're going to tell me everything," she said, her voice low and deadly. "But first, I think we need to ensure you don't cause any more trouble."

Christina felt the tape being pressed against her mouth, the sticky material clinging to her skin and muffling her protests. She could see the satisfaction in Maedeh's eyes as she sealed her fate, the room going quiet except for the muffled sounds of her own panic. The blonde asain woman secured the handcuffs around her wrists with a sharp click, the metal digging into her skin. They marched her through the mansion, the echo of their footsteps bouncing off the high ceilings and marble floors. The partygoers had no idea of the drama unfolding just beyond their line of sight.

As they approached a narrow hallway, Christina saw her chance. With a sudden burst of strength, she wrenched free from the blonde's grip, planting her heel into the Afican Amazon's shin with a satisfying crack. The woman yelped, dropping to one knee, and Christina took the opportunity to deliver a swift knee to her gut. She stumbled back, the air whooshing from her lungs.

The blonde woman, however, was not so easily deterred. She lunged at Christina, her own hands reaching for the handcuffs. But Christina was already moving, spinning away and using the momentum to sweep the blonde's legs out from under her. The woman hit the floor with a thud, and for a brief moment, Christina thought she might actually escape. But the African Amazon was back on her feet, pistol in hand, her eyes flashing with fury.

The cold metal of the gun pressed against Christina's temple, and she froze. The woman's finger tightened on the trigger, and Christina's heart stopped. But she had been trained for this. She knew that fear was a weapon, and she would not let it control her. Instead, she allowed a smirk to play on her lips, her eyes flicking to the loaded chamber she had noticed when the gun was pointed at her.

Maedeh's gaze followed hers, and she laughed, a cold, brittle sound that sent shivers down Christina's spine. "Ah, so you think you're clever," she said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "Let's see how clever you are when you can't run."

With a swift motion, the black-haired Amazon grabbed a set of leg cuffs from the blonde's pocket and secured them around Christina's ankles, forcing her legs to remain a mere foot apart. The woman still raging from the knee to her gut reached down and pulled off her own pants. Then she did the same to her thong underwear, revealing a sculpted physique that left no doubt of her combat prowess.

"Open," she demanded, shoving the damp fabric into Christina's face. They ripped the tape off Christina mouth and forced her to take a deep breath of the musky scent. "I hope you enjoy the taste of my panties," the black Amazon lady sneered, then shoved the fabric into her mouth, the salty taste of sweat and a hint of arousal mixing with the sweetness of perfume. She taped it back, sealing Christina's protests once again.

Maedeh nodded, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Take her to my limo," she instructed the guards. " We're going to the spa. Make sure she's comfortable." The Amazonian woman nodded in unison, gripping Christina firmly by the arms. She was half-dragged, half-walked through the mansion, her heart racing with a mix of fear and anger.

The limo was a sleek black beast parked outside, its tinted windows reflecting the mansion's grandeur. The two guards forced her into the backseat, and Maedeh followed, her eyes never leaving Christina's. The Asain Amazon took the passenger seat up front while her partner took the driver seat, leaving Maedeh and Christina in the plush confines of the back. The door clicked shut, and the engine rumbled to life.

Maedeh leaned back, her body a picture of relaxation. But Christina could feel the tension coiled in her like a snake ready to strike. The Persian woman's hand slid over to Christina's thigh, her fingers tracing a line upward, pushing the slit of her dress higher. Christina felt a shiver of arousal despite herself, her skin prickling under the unyielding touch.

Maedeh's eyes locked on hers, and she began to toy with the edge of Christina's panties, her nails scraping lightly against the sensitive skin. "You're a pretty little thing," she murmured, her voice a siren's song in the enclosed space. "I think you'll enjoy the spa. It's where I take all my... special guests." Her hand slid further up, and Christina felt the heat of her breath against her neck.

The limo's smooth ride did little to soothe her nerves as Maedeh's touch grew bolder. The woman's fingers slipped beneath the fabric, stroking and teasing until Christina couldn't help but gasp. She tried to squirm away, but the handcuffs and Maedeh's firm grip held her in place. The woman's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at Christina's response, her smile widening.

Maedeh's hand trailed higher, her fingers deftly slipping under the elastic of Christina's panties. The blonde in the driver's seat glanced back, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and hunger. Christina's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, her breath hitching as Maedeh's touch grew more insistent. The drive to the spa seemed to stretch on forever, each bump in the road sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

The limo pulled up to a nondescript building, the neon sign flickering "Serenity Spa" in the quiet night. The guards opened the door, and Maedeh slid out with a grace that belied the situation. She held out a hand to Christina, her nails painted a deep, seductive red that matched the dress Christina still wore. "Welcome to my sanctuary," she purred, her eyes glinting with a hint of malice. Christina had no choice but to follow as the womandrag het out, her legs shaking slightly as she stepped out of the car.

Inside, the spa was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of essential oils and something else—something darker, a scent that made Christina's stomach clench. She was led through a maze of corridors, the plush carpets muffling their footsteps. The Amazonian women remained silent sentinels, their eyes never leaving her. The anticipation of what was to come was almost unbearable.

Finally, they arrived at a private suite, the door adorned with a golden "M" that gleamed in the soft light. The African Amazon opened it, and Christina was pushed inside. The room was large, with a king-sized bed at its center, surrounded by velvet curtains. A large, salon chair sat in the corner, and Christina couldn't help but wonder what kind of "treatments" Maedeh had in mind for her.

Maedeh closed the door, leaving them alone. She walked over to the bed and sat down, patting the space next to her. "Come," she said, her voice low and inviting. "Let's get you comfortable."

Christina's eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape, but she knew better than to fight two trained operatives while bound. She took a deep breath and walked over to the bed, her heels clicking on the marble floor. Maedeh's hand slid around her waist, pulling her down onto the soft mattress. The woman leaned in, her breath hot against Christina's ear. "You're going to tell me everything," she whispered, her voice a silky threat. "And when you do, I might just decide to keep you for myself."

Maedeh's hand slipped up Christina's thigh, her fingers playing with the elastic of her panties. The touch was electric, and Christina couldn't help but react, her body betraying her even as her mind screamed for her to resist. The Persian woman chuckled, her eyes gleaming with victory. "I knew you'd be a good little spy," she murmured, her thumb stroking Christina's clit through the fabric. "But now, you belong to me."

Maedeh leaned in, her lips brushing Christina's ear. "You," she called out to the blonde Amazon, "fetch me Sara." The blonde nodded, her gaze lingering on Christina for a moment before she turned and strode from the room, the door clicking shut behind her. Christina's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to process what was happening. Who was Sara? And what did she have to do with this?

The black haired Amazon stepped forward, her powerful frame seemingly unfazed by the recent skirmish. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew she was in control. "Let's get you into a more...comfortable position," she said, her smile predatory. Before Christina could react, she had been lifted and carried over to the salon chair in the corner of the room. The woman's strength was astonishing, and Christina felt a thrill of fear mingle with the unwelcome arousal that still lingered from Maedeh's touch.

The chair was padded in velvet, the kind that whispered luxury and comfort, but Christina knew better. The woman's hands were swift and sure as they bound her wrists to the chair arms, the ropes tightening with each loop. The blonde returned with a woman named Sara, another blonde. She was younger 21, with pale skin and makeup that painted her as a gothic beauty. Her eyes were lined with thick kohl, a stark contrast to the red of her full lips, and her hair was styled in a cascade of soft waves that fell to her waist. Despite the dark aesthetic, she had a softness to her, an innocence that seemed out of place in this room of shadows and secrets.

Maedeh introduced her companions with a flourish of her hand. "Tiffany, my dear," she said, gesturing to the black-haired Amazon, "she's my right hand, my enforcer." Tiffany's smile was feral, a warning that Christina didn't miss. "And this," she continued, pointing to the blonde, "is Kim, my personal bodyguard. She's quite the handful, aren't you, darling?" Kim's smirk was cold, her eyes like chips of ice as she nodded in acknowledgment. "And you've already met our newest addition, Sara."

"Sara," Maedeh said, her voice a purr, "she's quite the artist with makeup. But her talents don't end there." She leaned in closer, her breath hot against Christina's cheek. "During the day, she makes people beautiful. At night, she makes them talk."

Christina's eyes widened with horror as she realized what was about to happen. She had underestimated these women, thinking they were just muscle for the operation. But now, she knew better. They were all players in this twisted game, each with their own unique set of skills.

Sara stepped forward, her delicate hands moving with a precision that spoke of a mind far more complex than her gothic exterior suggested. She set down a case on the vanity, snapping it open to reveal a collection of makeup brushes and palette knives. But alongside the cosmetics were vials filled with a clear, odorless liquid that sent a chill down Christina's spine.

Maedeh leaned in, her eyes boring into Christina's. "Last chance," she whispered, her breath hot against her cheek. "Who do you work for and whats real your name?" She peels off the tapegag and Christina spits out the panties in her mouth.

Christina took a deep breath, her chest heaving with anger and fear. "You can go to hell," she spat, her voice clear and defiant.

Maedeh's smile was cold, her eyes dark with rage. "Very well," she said, standing up. "If that's how you want to play it." She turned to Sara, who was already preparing her tools. "Gag her."

Christina's heart hammered in her chest as she watched Sara approach with the hot pink ballgag. She knew she had to stay strong, to keep her secrets, to survive. She had been trained for this at the academy, the very place that had turned her into the spy she was today. They had taught her to resist interrogation, to keep her cool under pressure.

Maedeh's eyes narrowed as she leaned in close, her voice a whisper of fury. "You're making a mistake," she warned, but Christina's only response was a steely gaze that dared her to go ahead. With a sharp twist of her wrist, Maedeh snapped the gag into place, the rubber biting into her cheeks and muffling any further protests. The taste of rubber filled her mouth, and she felt a thrill of panic, but she pushed it down, focusing on the mission.

Betty would be looking for her, she reminded herself. Her handler, her closest friend, would not abandon her. She had to hold out, had to keep her wits about her. The gag was uncomfortable, but she had been through worse at the academy, had endured hours with the device in her mouth, learning to breathe through her nose and keep calm.

Maedeh stepped back, a flicker of admiration in her eyes despite her anger. "Very well," she said, her voice cool. "Let's see how long that spirit lasts." She turned to Tiffany and Kim, who had moved to stand by the door, their expressions a mix of amusement and anticipation. "Let's get started, shall we?"

The three women moved with the synchronized grace of a well-oiled machine, each playing their part in this twisted ballet. Sara approached with a tray of makeup brushes and the chilling vials of liquid, her eyes never leaving Christina's. Tiffany and Kim took up positions behind the chair, their arms crossed, watching the interrogation unfold with a mix of boredom and excitement.

Maedeh nodded to Sara, who selected a syringe from her kit, filling it with the clear liquid that Christina knew was anything but innocuous. She felt the pinch of the needle as it slid into her arm, the cool liquid spreading through her veins. She tensed, waiting for the pain, but it never came. Instead, there was a gentle warmth that grew, enveloping her like a soft blanket. Her vision swam, and she felt her body go slack. The gag in her mouth was the only thing keeping her consciousness tethered to reality.

"Now, let's start with the mani-pedi," Maedeh said, her voice a silky purr that seemed to fill the room. She held up Christina's limp hand, examining the chipped polish with a sigh. "Such a shame, really. But we'll fix that."

Sara took Christina's hand, her own slender fingers steady as she dipped them into a bowl of warm, scented water. The smell of lavender filled the air, but the sedative was already taking hold, and the spy felt the edges of her world blur. Her hand was gently massaged, the sensation soothing despite the fear that clutched at her chest. The syrup from the syringe had been mixed into the water, and as Sara worked, it coated Christina's skin, setting it alight with a tingling that grew more intense with every touch.

Maedeh leaned in, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "You see, my dear," she whispered, "this isn't just any mani-pedi. It's a special treatment, designed to make sure you tell us everything we want to know." She nodded to Tiffany, who stepped forward with a set of gleaming silver manicure tools that looked more like instruments of torture than beauty aids.

Christina felt the first brush of the nail file against her skin, and she gasped as the tingling turned to a sharp, electric pleasure. It was as if every nerve ending had been amplified a thousandfold, and she struggled against her bonds, trying to pull away from the sensation that was both heavenly and hellish. The women laughed, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they watched her squirm.

Maedeh leaned in closer, her breath hot against Christina's cheek. "Tell me," she murmured, "who sent you? What do you know about my business?" But Christina remained silent, her eyes narrowed with determination.

The Persian woman sighed, a sound of pure exasperation. "Very well," she said, turning to Sara. "Let's begin the interrogation."

"What color should we choose?"

Maedeh's question hung in the air, thick with anticipation. Her voice was a purr, a predator toying with its prey. Christina's eyes narrowed, the only sign of her resistance as she stared at the wall of nail polish bottles. The warmth from the syrup was spreading, and she could feel the beginnings of the nerve enhancement. It was a strange, disorienting sensation—like her skin had been turned into a canvas of pleasure and pain.

Kim stepped forward, plucking a bottle of neon pink from the shelf. She uncapped it, the scent of the polish sharp and artificial in the air. "Let's go with this," she said, her voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate with the throb in Christina's veins. "It'll be a...matching set," she added with a smirk, holding up her own hand to show the same shade painted on her nails.

Maedeh nodded, her smile widening. "Perfect," she said, her eyes gleaming. "Let's make this an experience she won't forget."

Christina felt the coolness of the polish as it was applied to her nails, the brush strokes precise and deliberate. Each stroke sent a shiver up her spine, the sensation amplified by the serum. She clenched her jaw, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

Maedeh took a seat across from her, her eyes never leaving Christina's as she began to unravel the mystery of her identity. "Let's start with something simple," she said, her voice a silky threat. "What's your real name?"

Christina's eyes remained defiant, but she said nothing. The silence grew heavy, the only sounds in the room the soft rustle of fabric and the occasional drip of wax from the candles. Maedeh's smile grew tighter, her patience wearing thin.

Tiffany and Kim stepped closer, their eyes gleaming with excitement. Tiffany began to trace a pattern on Christina's bound wrists with the rope, her movements slow and deliberate.

"You're very tense," she murmured, her dark eyes locking with Christina's. "Let's see if we can help you relax."

Tiffany's rope slithered from Christina's wrists, and she felt the warmth of the black Amazon's hands as they began to explore her body. The woman's touch was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the earlier display of strength. She felt a shiver of pleasure as Tiffany's fingers traced the lines of her collarbone, then slid down to the swell of her breasts. The fabric of her dress was pushed aside, exposing her to the cool air and the heated gazes of the three women.

Kim, the blonde with the piercing eyes, stepped closer, her own hands moving to Christina's ankles. She began to unbuckle the straps of her sandals, her touch sending sparks of sensation up her legs. Christina squirmed in the chair, the feeling of being so utterly exposed and vulnerable sending a rush of adrenaline through her veins. But she remained silent, her eyes never leaving Maedeh's, who watched the scene unfold with a hunger that was almost palpable.

Maedeh leaned back, a smug smile playing on her lips as she observed her companions' ministrations. "You see, my dear," she said, her voice a purr, "we have ways of making even the most stoic of spies...cooperative."

The sensation grew as Tiffany's hands continued their exploration, moving from her breasts to her neck, her thumbs tracing the delicate line of her throat. Each touch sent a bolt of pleasure through Christina's body, making her cough and gag around the ball in her mouth. The warmth from the sedative grew, spreading from her fingertips and toes to pool in her core. Despite the fear and anger, she couldn't deny the building arousal.

Maedeh leaned back on the bed, watching with a predatory smile as her team worked their magic. "You're fighting it," she murmured, "but you can't hide from us forever."

Christina's eyes never left hers, a silent challenge that seemed to amuse the Persian woman. Sara stepped back, admiring her handiwork with a critical eye. Her fingers, now a vibrant shade of neon pink, looked like works of art, the polish glossy and perfect despite the chaos of the situation. Christina felt a strange detachment, as if watching the scene unfold from a distance.

Next Tiffany grab a leg stool and put it in front of Christina. They tied her feet to it so Sara could paint Christina toes. The nails, now a vibrant shade of neon pink, matched the polish on her fingers. Sara's touch was surprisingly gentle, her eyes never leaving Christina's as she worked. Each stroke of the brush sent a wave of sensation through her body, the warmth from the sedative now a full-blown inferno. Christina felt her resolve wavering, the pleasure too intense to ignore.

Maedeh took a step closer, her own desire evident in the way she licked her lips. She reached out and grabbed the gag, pulling it from Christina's mouth with a rough yank. "Let's try this again," she said, her voice husky. "What's your real name?"

Christina's eyes remained defiant, but she couldn't hide the slight quiver in her voice. "I've told you," she managed, her tongue feeling thick and clumsy. "I'm just a guest."

Maedeh leaned in, her nose skimming Christina's neck. She inhaled deeply, and a knowing smile spread across her face. "You're lying," she murmured, her breath hot against Christina's skin. "And you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Her hand slid up Christina's thigh, the fabric of her dress riding higher with each inch. Christina felt a shiver of arousal, despite herself.

Maedeh's thumb brushed against her, the fabric of her panties already damp. Christina's cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and anger. She couldn't believe her body was betraying her like this. But she remained silent, her training holding firm even as her resolve began to crack.

Maedeh's eyes narrowed, and she leaned back. "You think you're so clever," she said, her voice a low purr. "But we'll see how long you can keep this up." She snapped her fingers, and Tiffany stepped forward, a glint in her eye.

Sara approached the chair, her delicate hands holding a tray of makeup. She began with Christina's eyes, lining them with a rich, smoky eye shadow that seemed to deepen the pools of green. The color was a stark contrast to the pink of the gag that filled her mouth, a crimson ball that made her look like a doll caught in a sadistic game. With a gentle touch, she applied the shadow, her movements precise and practiced. Christina felt a strange detachment from her body, watching the transformation as if it were happening to someone else.

Next, she traced her lids with a kohl pencil, the soft strokes creating a dramatic look that emphasized the fiery spark in her gaze. The blonde's eyes remained cold and focused, but Christina could see the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. Despite the anger coursing through her veins, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of admiration for the younger woman's skill. Sara's hands were steady, a silent testament to the power she wielded here in this chamber of secrets.

The final touch was the lipstick, a shade that matched the dress Christina had chosen for the evening—a deep, seductive red that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the room. Sara painted around the gag with a feather-light touch, her movements both sensual and taunting. The coolness of the stick contrasted with the heat in Christina's cheeks, the color a stark reminder of her predicament.

Maedeh stepped back, a smug smile playing on her lips as she held up a handheld mirror. Christina's eyes met her own in the reflection, and she had to admit that she looked stunning. The makeup was flawless, transforming her into a living doll, a creature of beauty and pain. The fiery locks framing her face looked like a halo of secrets, the dark liner and red lips a silent declaration of war.

Maedeh's eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of weakness. "What do you think, Miss Amber?" she asked, her voice a silky caress. "Do you like what you see?"

Christina's heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral. She knew better than to give them the satisfaction of seeing an reaction. She had been in situations like this before, but none had ever been quite so...personal. The mirror was held up to her face, and she couldn't help but be taken aback by the transformation. The fiery red lipstick and smoky eyes made her look like a siren, a seductive spy ready to conquer the world.

Maedeh stepped back, her eyes gleaming with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Very nice," she murmured, her gaze lingering on Christina's breasts. "But I think we can do better." She nodded to Tiffany and Kim, and the two women moved closer, their eyes hungry. "Take off her dress," she ordered, her voice a silky command.

Christina's cheeks flushed, but she remained stoic as the dress was torn from her body, leaving her in nothing but her panties. The red lace contrasted sharply with her pale skin, and she felt a twinge of embarrassment despite her training. The two Amazonian guards looked her over, their eyes lingering on her bound form. Tiffany's hand reached out, her fingers tracing the line of Christina's neck, then dipping down to her chest. She pinched one of her nipples, hard, and Christina couldn't suppress the gasp that bubbled up from her throat. This was a light pinch but with the drug in her body it felt like no pain she's experienced before.

Kim chuckled, her own hand moving to Christina's pussy. "Let's see how much you enjoy this," she said, her voice a taunt. Her thumb slid under the lace, pressing against her clit, and Christina's body responded despite herself. She felt the wetness pool between her legs, the gag in her mouth muffling her protests.

Maedeh leaned in, her breath hot against Christina's skin. "You see, my dear," she whispered, "resistance is futile. Soon, you'll be begging for more." With that, she turned and left the room, her heels echoing down the hallway Sara followedcloselybehind. The door clicked shut, leaving Christina alone with Tiffany and Kim.

The two guards shared a look, a silent communication that sent a shiver down Christina's spine. They had clearly enjoyed their mistress's game and were eager to continue without her. Tiffany's hand remained on Christina's breast, her fingers playing with the sensitive peak. Kim knelt down, her eyes on Christina's. She slipped her own hand into her pants, her thumb stroking her clit with a casual ease that was both mesmerizing and terrifying.

"You want this, don't you?" Tiffany's voice was a growl, her teeth bared in a feral smile. "You want us to make you feel good." Christina's eyes darted to the door, but she knew escape was impossible. The ropes held her firmly in place, and the women had the keys.

Kim leaned in, her breath hot against Christina's thigh. She slid her hand out of her pants, and before Christina could react, she sat in front of her and had brought her toes to the soaking wet fabric of her panties.

"Let's see how much you like this," she said, her voice a sultry purr. She slid the fabric to the side, exposing Christina's pussy to the cool air of the room. Christina's eyes widened in shock, but she couldn't look away as Kim's toes began to caress her labia. The sensation was foreign, the humiliation making her stomach twist, but she couldn't deny the pleasure that was building.

Tiffany's hand on her breast grew bolder, her thumb flicking the hardened nipple with a roughness that sent waves of pleasure through Christina's body. Her eyes met Christina's in the mirror, the sadistic glee in them unmistakable. She leaned in, her teeth grazing Christina's ear. "You're going to love this," she murmured, her breath hot and sweet with the scent of alcohol.

Kim's toes slid into Christina's wetness, and she couldn't help but moan, the sound muffled by the gag. The sensation was intense, the pressure building as the women worked in tandem. They knew exactly what they were doing, their movements precise and calculated. It was a dance of domination, and Christina was the helpless prey.

Her eyes glazed over as the pleasure grew, her body responding despite her mind's protests. The room swam before her, the scent of gardenias and leather mixing with the musk of arousal. The two women leaned in, their teeth bared in predatory smiles.

Kim's toes curled, pressing deeper, and Christina felt the beginnings of an orgasm building. She bit down on the gag, her body writhing in the chair. Tiffany's grip on her breast tightened, her nails digging into the soft flesh. The pain was a sharp contrast to the pleasure, but it only served to heighten her arousal.

Maedeh had known what she was doing when she picked these two to interrogate Christina. They were masters of the art of pain and pleasure, a deadly combination that could make even the strongest spy crack. And as Christina felt herself getting closer to the edge, she knew she had to find a way out of this before it was too late.

Her eyes searched the room, looking for anything she could use to her advantage. The walls were bare, the only decoration the mirror that reflected her own desperate gaze. But then she saw it—a small knife, tucked into the side of the vanity. It was a slim chance, but it was all she had.

Summoning every ounce of strength she had, Christina bucked against the chair, her eyes never leaving the knife. Tiffany and Kim were caught off guard, their laughter turning to surprise as she fought against her restraints. The chair rocked precariously, and for a moment, it looked like Christina might break free.

But the ropes held firm, and the two women quickly regained their composure. "Naughty girl," Tiffany chuckled, her grip on Christina's breast tightening. "You're just making this more fun."

Christina glared at them, her eyes flashing with determination. They were going to pay for this, she vowed silently. She would not be broken by these vixens, no matter how skilled they were at their twisted games. But as the moments ticked by and the knots in the ropes held firm, she knew she had to find another way to escape.

Maedeh stepped back, watching the scene unfold with a smug smile. "I think our little spy has had enough," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Tiffany, remove her gag. I want to hear her beg for mercy."

Tiffany leaned in, her fingers brushing against Christina's cheek as she unbuckled the gag.

Christina's jaw ached as she opened her mouth to speak, her voice hoarse from the gag."Wh...." was the only sound Christina could say before Kim shoved her toes into her mouth, silencing her.

Tiffany breath is hot on Christina's face as she leans in, her fingers digging into the ropes that bind her wrists. "You're going to worship our feet," she says, her voice thick with amusement. "For kicking us earlier and trying to escape right now." Christina's eyes flick down to the toes in front of her, the blue polish on Tiffany's nails standing out starkly against the her dark skin.

Kim's pink-painted toes wiggle before her eyes, a silent demand for attention. Despite the fear coiled in her belly, Christina can't help but feel a twinge of arousal. She knows this is part of their game, their way of breaking her down. But she also knows that she can't let them win, not now, not ever.

With a deep breath, she closes and begins to suck on the toes in her mouth, her eyes never leaving Tiffany's. She can feel the woman's satisfaction, but she refuses to give in to the humiliation. Instead, she focuses on the taste of the polish, the slight tang of the chemicals that coats her tongue. It's a small act of rebellion, to find something mundane in this bizarre situation.

As Christina worships their feet, she uses the opportunity to observe the room, looking for any signs of weakness or a way out. Her gaze flicks to the knife on the vanity, her mind racing with escape plans. But she knows she must bide her time, wait for the perfect moment to strike.

Tiffany switches her foot with Kims again, and now Christina's eyes are level with Kim's toes. She stares at them, the pink polish glinting in the soft light. They're long and elegant, the kind of toes that could crush a man's windpipe if given the chance. Christina swallows hard, her own throat feeling tight as she's forced to suck on them. The taste of polish fills her mouth, and she fights the urge to gag. She can feel the women's power over her, their control, and she hates it.

But as she sucks, she can't help but feel the beginnings of an orgasm building deep within her. The combination of the sedative, the intimate touch, and the adrenaline of the situation is too much. Her body is betraying her, responding to the stimulation despite her mind's protests. She tries to ignore it, to focus on the escape, but the sensation grows stronger, coiling in her stomach like a serpent.

Tiffany can tell she close to the edge, and she starts using her foot on Christina's pussy again, her toes tracing patterns that make Christina squirm in the chair. The sedative is wearing off, but the sensitivity remains, and every stroke feels like a bolt of lightning. Christina's eyes roll back in her head, and she can't help but moan around the toe in her mouth. It's a sound of pleasure, of submission, and it sends a thrill through Tiffany's body. She's enjoying this more than she should, but the thrill of the hunt is too intoxicating to resist.

Maedeh and Sara return, the machine still shrouded by the blanket. Christina's eyes widen as they roll it closer, the wheels squeaking slightly on the marble floor. What could be under there? The anticipation is almost unbearable, her heart racing in her chest. The two women exchange a knowing smile, and Christina can't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up her spine.

They remove the blanket with a flourish, revealing a contraption that looks like a cross between Ergonomic Kneeling Horse and a medieval torture device. Christina's eyes widen further as she takes in the straps, the gleaming chrome, and the vibrating attachments. Maedeh's smile widens, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Now, my dear," she says, her voice a purr, "it's time for us to get a little more...intimate."

" Go fuck yourselves," Christina managed to mumble around the toe in her mouth, the words muffled but clear.

Maedeh's smile grew colder, and she nodded to Tiffany and Kim. "Let her up," she said, her voice a whip crack. The two women obeyed, Kim took het foot out of Christina's mouth with a pop, while Tiffany untied her from the chair. Christina stumbled to her feet, her legs wobbly from the arousal that had been building in her body. She was pushed towards the contraption, her eyes wide with apprehension.

They positioned her in front of the machine, her arms and legs spread wide. The straps were cold against her skin as they secured her wrists and ankles, pulling her into a kneeling position that left her vulnerable and exposed. The metal bit into her flesh, a stark reminder of her captivity. They then positioned a spinning wheel over her butt that had leather belts attached to it, ready to rain down pain and pleasure indiscriminately. Christina's heart raced as she watched the wheel spin, the belts dancing in the air like the fingers of fate deciding her next sensation.

Maedeh stepped forward, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "Before we continue," she said, her voice a silky caress, "is there anything you'd like to tell us, Ms. Amber?"

Christina glared at her, the anger in her eyes a stark contrast to the forced obedience of her body. "Is this the best you can do?" she spat out, her voice defiant despite the situation.

Maedeh's smile grew, a dark twinkle in her eye. "Very well," she said, her voice a low purr. "Let's see if this changes your tune." She nodded to Kim, who stepped forward with a gleaming ring gag in her hand. Christina's eyes widened as the gag was unbuckled and the cold metal was forced into her mouth, the ring clamping down on her tongue. The gag was secured with a brutal click, leaving her unable to speak anything but muffled sounds of protest.

Maedeh leaned in, her breath hot against Christina's cheek. "Now, let's see if you're still so eager to keep your secrets," she whispered, her voice a mix of amusement and malice. She stepped back, her eyes raking over Christina's bound form with a hunger that made her skin crawl.

The wheel began to spin, the crops whipping through the air with a sound like a snake's hiss. Christina braced herself, her body tense as she awaited the first strike. It came without warning, a sharp sting against her inner thigh that made her gasp around the ring gag. The pain was intense, a jolt that shot through her, but it was quickly followed by a strange, electric warmth that spread through her core. She bit down on the metal, her eyes watering as she struggled to keep her composure.

Maedeh watched with a cruel smile, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "You see, Agent Amber," she said, her voice like a knife sliding through silk, "I know exactly what you're feeling. The line between pleasure and pain is a delicate one." The wheel spun again, and Christina felt the belts kiss her skin, this time on the other thigh. It was a dance of torment, a symphony of sensation that she hadn't anticipated.

Maedeh stepped back, stroking her chin as if contemplating her next move. "Let's leave her for a few hours," she decided, her eyes lingering on Christina's bound body. "Let her think about her choices. Maybe she'll be more...cooperative when we return."

Christina's eyes watered as the first few strokes of the leather bit into her flesh, the pain searing through her body. She squirmed against the straps, her legs trembling with the effort to break free. But the contraption was too well-designed, holding her in place like a vice. She could hear the rhythmic thwack of the wheel spinning, the anticipation of each strike a silent torture in itself. The room swam in her vision, and she took deep, ragged breaths through her nose, trying to focus.

Where was Betty? Where was the backup she had been promised? The academy had prepared her for this, had taught her to keep her wits about her, to never break under pressure. But this was different. This was real, and the pain was all too real. The wheel spun faster, the leather biting into her skin with a ferocity that seemed to match her racing thoughts. Her mind raced, trying to formulate a plan, a way out of this predicament. But all she could think about was the stinging agony and the cold metal of the ring gag digging into her mouth.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The room was silent except for the sound of her own labored breathing. She felt a hand on her shoulder, gentle despite the situation. The women had returned. Christina's eyes fluttered open to see Maedeh standing over her, a look of...curiosity on her face. The Persian woman reached down, her fingers tracing the line of the ring gag, her eyes lingering on Christina's swollen vagina. "Well, well," she murmured, "it seems our little spy has a taste for the exotic."

Christina's cheeks flamed with both pain and embarrassment as the ring gag was removed, the taste of cold metal lingering on her tongue. She panted, her eyes locked on Maedeh's, the only sound in the room the wet smack of the leather belts against danglingin the air. The contraption had been designed to both punish and arouse, and it had done its job all too well. Her body was a traitor, betraying her training and resolve with each sharp sting of pain that somehow morphed into a dark, pulsing need.

Maedeh stepped back, her eyes glinting with amusement at Christina's exposed vulnerability. "It seems our little spy enjoys a bit of pain with her pleasure," she said, her voice like silk over gravel. "How...interesting." She turned to Sara, who was standing by the vanity, her own eyes wide with shock. "Give her a moment to compose herself," she ordered, her gaze never leaving Christina. "Then, we'll see how much she really knows."

The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Christina took deep, steadying breaths, trying to push aside the confusing jumble of sensations that flooded her body. The pain had been intense, but it had also brought with it a strange, almost exhilarating rush of arousal. She had never felt anything like it before, and she wasn't sure if she liked it. But she knew she couldn't let them see her weakness, couldn't give them the satisfaction of thinking they had broken her.

Maedeh's eyes were sharp as knives as she leaned in close. "Ready to talk now, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock concern. Christina met her gaze, her own eyes flashing with defiance. She had to keep her cool, had to keep playing the game.

Maedeh's smile grew wider, more predatory. "I don't think so," she murmured, her hand sliding up Christina's body to caress her cheek. "Let's see what else we can do to make you more...cooperative." She stood up and walked over to the wall, her heels clicking against the marble floor. The wall was a mirrored surface, reflecting the room in all its sordid glory.

Christina watched as Maedeh's hand hovered over a panel, and suddenly, an image flickered to life on the mirror's surface. It was Betty, her long blue hair a mess, her eyes wide with fear. She was in a similar chair as she was earlier, bound and gagged with duct tape wearing a long leather black jacket. The sight of her friend in trouble sent a jolt of terror through Christina's body, but she didn't let it show on her face.

Maedeh leaned in, her voice a purr. "Looks like your little friend tried to come to your rescue," she said, her eyes gleaming with malice. "But it seems she's in a bit of a pickle herself." The video played out, showing Betty being captured by Tiffany and Kim.

Christina's eyes widened with horror, her heart racing. She had to keep her cool, had to think. "Let her go," she managed to say,

Maedeh reached for the pink ballgag and shoved it back into Christina's mouth, cutting off her words. She fastened it securely, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "We'll see how much you enjoy the show," she said, her voice a mix of anger and excitement.

The Persian woman then produced a sleek, black device that Christina recognized all too well—a vibrator. She felt a shiver of dread as Maedeh attached it to her clit, the coldness of the metal a stark contrast to the warmth of her skin. With a flick of her wrist, she turned it on, the vibrations starting at a low, insistent hum that grew stronger with each pulse. The device was set to random, the intensity fluctuating without warning. Christina's eyes widened in horror as she realized the depth of their depravity.

Maedeh stepped back, a twisted smile playing on her lips as she admired her handiwork. "I'll be back for you soon," she said, her voice a dark promise. "But first, I think Betty needs a little...tenderizing." With a flick of her hand, she signaled to Tiffany and Kim, who grabbed Christina's shoulders, holding her in place as she struggled against the stool.

Christina had to waver between maintaining her cover and enduring the relentless torment of the vibrator. The random intensity was a form of psychological warfare, keeping her on edge and making it difficult to focus on anything but the waves of pleasure and pain that crashed over her. She watched as Maedeh and the others left the room, their laughter echoing down the hallway. The vibrator remained, a cruel reminder of her vulnerability.

Christina looked up on the screen to see them walk into the same room as Betty, who was bound to a chair, her eyes wide with fear. Betty, her trusted handler, had been captured as well. The sight sent a cold shiver down Christina's spine, but she had to stay focused. She couldn't let her emotions get the better of her.

Maedeh's voice grew louder as she approached Betty, the cruel smirk on her face a mirror of the one she had worn when Christina was bound to the chair. "Hello, darling," she cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness that didn't quite hide the malice beneath. "I see you'rein a bit of a pickle."

Betty glared at her, her eyes flashing with defiance. "You won't get anything from me," she spat through her gag.

Maedeh's smile grew even wider. "Oh, but I will," she said, holding up a small vial filled with the same clear serum that had been used on Christina. "You see, I know all about your little agency's little...quirks." She stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Let's see how much you can take, shall we?"

With a swift motion, she injected the serum into Betty's arm. The woman's body jerked, and she let out a muffled cry through the gag. The two Amazonian guards held her down, their grips unyielding. The process was almost mechanical, a well-oiled machine of seduction and terror that Christina knew all too well from her own training.

Sara took a seat in front of Betty, her strong hands taking hold of her own. "Let's start with your nails, shall we?" she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Black, I think. It'll match your style." With a wink, she selected a bottle of deep, black nail polish from the vanity.

Christina watched in horror as Betty's eyes rolled back in her head, the serum taking hold. Her body convulsed, and she knew all too well the agonizing mix of pleasure and pain that was about to be inflicted upon her friend. The video feed was a twisted mirror, reflecting the same scenes of torment she had just endured.

Maedeh stepped back, her eyes gleaming with excitement as Betty's body began to respond to the drug. Sara took Betty's hand, her own nails already painted a deep, glossy black that matched her soul as she began to paint Betty's nails. The brush strokes were deliberate, almost tender, a stark contrast to the brutal reality of their situation.

The spy hand trembled, the polish smearing slightly as she worked. It was a subtle sign of the fear and anger she felt, but Christina knew it was there.

Maedeh leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as she watched Betty's transformation with a sadistic smile. "You see, my dear," she said, her voice a purr, "we have ways of making people very...cooperative." She stepped closer, her heels clicking against the tiles. "You're going to tell me everything I want to know," she murmured, her breath hot against Betty's cheek. "And if you're a good girl, I might just let you see your friend.

A TV screen turned on I Betty room showing h Christina's ordeal, the vivid images causing her heart to race. She could see her friend being sexual tortured with a vibrator while bound to the stool, the look of fear and defiance in her eyes. Betty knew she had to be strong, had to resist the serum's effects, but the anticipation of her own fate was almost too much to bear.

Sara just finished her first hand, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as she held up Betty's shaking hand. The nails were a stark black, a stark contrast to the pale skin and the gleaming chrome of the chair. Each digit was a miniature prison, painted with the color of midnight and the promise of secrets.

Let's start the other hand," Maedeh said, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she took in Betty's distress. Sara set to work, each brushstroke a calculated move in the dance of torture. The serum was already taking hold, making Betty's skin tingle and her thoughts swirl in a maelstrom of fear and arousal. She clenched her teeth, trying to focus on anything but the sensations that were building within her.

Kim and Tiffany stepped forward, moving with the grace of panthers stalking their prey. They gripped the edges of Betty's long black leather boots, their muscles flexing as they worked the heels off. The sound of leather peeling away from skin echoed through the room, sending shivers down Christina's spine. Betty's bare feet were exposed, vulnerable and pale against the stark chrome of the chair.

Maedeh watched with a vindictive smile as the two women began to massage Betty's feet. The blonde's hands were firm, her movements methodical, each press and rub a silent threat. The black-haired Amazon's touch was softer, almost gentle, but the malice in her eyes belied any semblance of kindness. They were playing a twisted game, one that Christina recognized all too well from her training. The goal was to break her mentally, to make her watch her closest ally suffer while she remained helpless.

Betty's eyes never left Christina's, a silent plea for strength. Her breathing grew erratic as the serum's effects grew stronger, and she struggled against her restraints. Christina felt a swell of anger, her eyes burning with the need to act.

Maedeh's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she observed Betty's plight. "Now," she said, her voice a sultry purr, "we're getting somewhere." She snapped her fingers, and Tiffany and Kim stepped back, their work with the nails complete. "Sara," she purred, "it's time to move on to the next phase."

Sara nodded, setting aside her nail art tools. She approached Betty with a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth, her movements as graceful as a ballerina's. She knelt before the chair, her eyes meeting Betty's. Despite the situation, there was something almost tender in the way she began to wash her feet, her gentle strokes belying the cruel intent behind her actions. The water was scented with jasmine, the sweet floral scent mixing with the coppery tang of fear that permeated the room.

Christina's eyes were glued to the scene unfolding before her, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew what was coming next—Maedeh had made it clear that Betty would face the same torments she had endured. Sara's delicate hands, now free from the grip of the serum, moved with a purpose that sent a shiver down Christina's spine.

With a flourish, Sara pulled out a set of velvet restraints, attaching them to Betty's ankles. They were adorned with small, shimmering crystals that caught the light, a twisted nod to the opulence that surrounded them. Betty's eyes widened, but she remained stoic, her gaze never leaving Christina's who was on the screen. The Christina felt a pang of guilt—she had brought this upon her friend.

Maedeh stepped closer, her hand stroking Betty's calf with a possessiveness that made Christina's stomach churn. "Sara," she said, her voice like a silk scarf sliding over skin, "make sure she feels every touch."

Sara nodded, her eyes never leaving Betty's. She began to massage Betty's feet, her fingers digging into the arches with a firmness that made the older woman gasp. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with the promise of pain and the threat of betrayal. Christina watched as Sara's hands moved up Betty's legs, her touch growing more intimate. She knew what was coming next—the serum that would make Betty's body respond against her will.

Then Sara starts painting Betty big toes dark red polish. Betty moans through her gag as shevwatches her friend through the screen. Christina tries to convey reassurance with her eyes, but she knows the battle within Betty is raging.

The brush strokes are precise, each one a silent declaration of the fate that awaits her. Betty’s legs tremble as the polish dries, the anticipation of the serum's bite as potent as the smell of the nail lacquer. Maedeh, ever the dramatic, leans in and whispers something in Betty’s ear, a promise of what’s to come. Betty’s eyes widen, and Christina’s heart sinks.

Sara stands back, admiring her work, then she opens a drawer and pulls out a syringe filled with a pink serum that Christina doesn't recognize. She walks over to Betty with the grace of a cat stalking its prey. Betty's eyes follow the syringe, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Christina feels a fresh wave of dread wash over her as she watches the scene unfold. She has to find a way out of this—for both of them.

Maedeh nods at Sara, a silent command. The younger woman leans in, her breath hot against Betty's neck as she whispers something that makes Betty's eyes go wide with fear. Sara then e

Injects the serum into Betty's arm.Then the screen goes to black, leaving Christina's heart racing with worry. She fights against her restraints, the leather biting into her skin as she tries to escape the chair. The door opens, and Tiffany walks in, her smile wicked.

"I see you're feeling a bit...anxious," she says, her eyes flicking to the live feed that had just been cut. "Let's see if we can help with that." With a flick of her wrist, she turns the vibrator to its highest setting. The sudden sensation sends a jolt through Christina's body, and she cries out, the sound muffled by the gag.

The world narrows to the relentless buzz between her legs. She can feel the tension building, despite the horror of her situation. Her body betrays her, responding to the stimulation as if it were a lover's caress instead of a tool of torment. She tries to focus on anything else—the smell of the room, the feel of the ropes on her skin, the sound of her own muffled moans—but it's no use. The vibrator's intensity is a living thing, a beast that demands her full attention

Christina's breath hitched as the vibrator's relentless buzzing ceased, the sudden silence echoing in the starkly lit room like a gunshot. She felt a strange mix of relief and frustration wash over her. Despite the agonizing anticipation, she hadn't reached the brink she had hoped for. The cruel device had been taunting her for what felt like an eternity, bringing her so close to release only to snatch it away at the last moment. Her body was a taut bowstring, desperate for the sweet release of an arrow's flight.

Her eyes flicked to the digital clock on the wall. Only five minutes had passed since the last time it had shut off. Five agonizing minutes of the vibrator's whimsical dance across her sensitive flesh. She had lost count of how many times she had been brought to the edge and denied. The anticipation was a twisted game her captors played, and she knew she was losing. Sweat beaded on her forehead, her breathing ragged. The gag in her mouth made it difficult to gasp.

The door opened, and Tiffany, the sadistic Amazonian guard, sauntered in. Her eyes gleamed with amusement as she took in Christina's flushed cheeks and heaving chest. "Looks like you had quite the workout," she purred, her voice thick with sarcasm. "But we can't have you getting too tired, can we?" She crossed the room, her hips swaying with the grace of a predator approaching its prey.

Christina's eyes widened as Tiffany reached for the vibrator, a wicked smile playing on her lips. "Not again," she thought, her body already protesting the impending assault. The Amazon leaned in, her breath warm against Christina's ear. "Maedeh said we need to keep you...motivated." With that, she turned the device back on, the buzzing filling the air once more. Christina's eyes rolled back in her head as the vibrations began their cruel dance.

Tiffany stepped out of the room, leaving Christina alone with the relentless buzz of the vibrator. The door clicked shut, the sound echoing through the chamber like a gunshot in the silence. Christina's eyes flew open, expecting the torment to stop, but to her surprise—and dismay—it continued. The waves of pleasure grew stronger, her body shaking with the intensity of it all. The cruel game of denial had been turned on its head, and she was being granted the release she had been denied earlier.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she bit down hard on the gag as the climax approached. The vibrator, a tool of torment moments ago, had become an unexpected ally. Her eyes rolled back, and she couldn't help but let out a muffled cry as the orgasm crashed over her. It was intense, almost painful in its force, a stark reminder of the control these women held over her. Her body arched, the leather straps cutting into her skin as she writhed in the chair, each spasm sending a jolt of pleasure through her.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the vibrator stopped. Christina's body went limp, the aftershocks of her climax leaving her trembling. She struggled to breathe, her chest heaving with the effort. The room was silent once more, the only sound the harsh breaths she drew through her nose.

As the fog of pleasure receded, Christina felt a deep exhaustion settle over her. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped her as the reality of her situation crashed back in. The chair was cold against her bare skin, and she was all too aware of the sticky mess between her legs. The gag was still in place, a constant reminder of her powerlessness.

When Christina finally opened her eyes, she found herself lying on the bed, her wrists and ankles bound by a pair of hand cuffs and ankle cuffs, the cold metal biting into her skin. The gag was gone, leaving her mouth dry and tasting faintly of metal.

Looking around she was still in Maedeh private suit, the opulent decor seemed to mock her current state of helplessness. Christina could hear muffled voices outside the door, a cacophony of whispers and laughter that sent a shiver down her spine. She tested her bonds, the metal cold and unforgiving. She had to find a way to get free and warn Betty, to put an end to this twisted game before it was too late.

The door creaked open, and Maedeh glided in, a vision of innocence in a short floral sun dress that fluttered around her toned legs. She wore flip flops, the soft slap of the soles against the floor the only sound in the room. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and she had a serene smile on her face that did nothing to hide the sharpness in her eyes.

Kim followed, her grey sweat pants hugging the curves of her muscular legs, an oversized animal print t-shirt hanging off one shoulder. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and her eyes were filled with a lazy hunger that sent a shiver down Christina's spine.

Tiffany entered last, her tight jumpsuit hugging every inch of her voluptuous figure. The material clung to her like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. Her hips swayed as she walked, a seductive roll that spoke of power and confidence.

Maedeh's gaze raked over Christina, taking in her bound form with a glint of satisfaction. "Ah, you're awake," she said, her voice a silky purr. "I trust you enjoyed your little...interlude."

Christina glared at her, her eyes flashing with anger. "Where's Betty?" she managed to ask, her voice hoarse from the gag.

Maedeh's smile grew wider. "Don't worry about her," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "She's being...taken care of."

Christina's stomach churned with fear for her friend. "What have you done to her?" she demanded, her voice rising.

Maedeh stepped closer, her hand stroking Christina's cheek. "Let's just say she's receiving the same...special treatment you got." She leaned in, her breath hot against Christina's ear. "But don't worry, we're not done with you yet."

Christina felt a surge of anger, her body straining against the bonds. "I won't tell you anything," she spat.

Maedeh chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down Christina's spine. "Oh, I know," she said, her eyes gleaming. "But your friend Betty did!

The spy's eyes widened in shock. "What?"

"Betty would never betray us," Christina said through gritted teeth, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

Maedeh's smile grew even more smug. "It's amazing what a little persuasion can do," she said, her eyes glinting with triumph. "But you see, it doesn't matter what she said. I already know who you are—British Intelligence, sent to infiltrate my operation. You thought you were so clever, hiding behind your pretty face and your fake jewelry."

Christina's heart raced. They had underestimated these women. "You think you're so smart," she hissed. "But you don't know anything."

Maedeh leaned in closer, her breath a warm caress on Christina's skin. "Oh, but I do," she whispered. "I know you know all about my secret trading posts. Your little mission was quite the revelation. But there's one thing you're keeping from me, isn't there?" Her hand slid down Christina's body, lingering on her chest. "Your real name. It's all I need to complete my victory."

Christina's eyes narrowed, the fire of defiance burning brighter with each taunting word. "You'll never get it," she murmured, her voice steady despite the fear coiling in her stomach.

Maedeh's smile grew predatory. "Is that so?" she purred. She nodded to Tiffany and Kim, who approached the bed with a sense of eager anticipation. "We'll see about that."

The two guards took their places, one on either side of the bed. Their muscular forms cast shadows in the flickering candlelight, their expressions a mix of boredom and eagerness. They knew the game was far from over.

Maedeh stepped aside as Sara glided into the room, her movements as graceful as a ballet dancer's. She held a ring gag with a tube attached to it, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic excitement. Christina's heart sank as she realized what was about to happen.

Before she could react, Tiffany and Kim pinned her down, their strong arms holding her in place. Sara approached the bed, her lips curled into a knowing smile. She leaned in and secured the gag around Christina's head, the tube sliding into her mouth with a cold, plastic intrusion. Christina's eyes watered, and she made muffled sounds of protest around the tube, but it was too late.

Maedeh stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Christina's. "Now, I bet your hungry," she said, her voice a purr." Sara made you this lovely strawberry and banana smoothie."

Sara nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She took a sip from the glass before offering it to Christina. The spy's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she had little choice. As the cool liquid filled her mouth, she tasted the faint hint of something bitter beneath the sweetness. She swallowed, the serum coating her throat and sending a rush of warmth through her body.

Maedeh watched with a smug smile as Christina's eyes glazed over. "Good girl," she murmured, patting her cheek. "We wouldn't want you starving, would we?"

The serum began to take effect almost immediately, sending waves of pleasure through Christina's body. She struggled against her restraints, her eyes wide with fear and arousal. The two guards held her down, their grips unyielding as they watched the show.

Maedeh took a step back, her eyes never leaving Christina's. "Now, let's get you cleaned up," she said, her voice a silky whisper. "You wouldn't want to miss the main event."

The women worked in unison, their movements practiced and efficient. They unbuckled the restraints and lifted Christina's limp body from the bed. Her legs wobbled as they stood her on the cold, marble floor, the smoothness of the stone sending another shiver through her. They guided her to a standing shower in the corner of the room, the water already running warm and steamy.

Maedeh began to take off her dress, revealing a figure that was was flawless as the marble around them. Her skin was like porcelain, unblemished and unyielding, a stark contrast to the chaos of the room. She stepped into the shower, the water cascading over her body like a waterfall of diamonds. Christina felt a strange mix of awe and revulsion as the woman's hand reached out to her, beckoning her closer.

Maedeh's hand was like a vice as she gripped Christina's wrist and cuffed it to a hook in the shower wall. She watched as the other handcuff was attached to the opposite wrist, leaving her with no room to maneuver. The warm water pelted her body, mixing with the cold sweat of fear that coated her skin. Her eyes searched the room for any sign of escape, but Kim and Tiffany had already left, their footsteps fading down the hallway.

With a flick of her wrist, Maedeh sent a spray of warm water over Christina's chest, the droplets gliding down her body like a lover's kiss. She stepped closer, her eyes raking over the spy's trembling form. "You see, my dear," she said, her voice a purr, "there's no point in fighting. You're already ours."

Sara approached her next, her eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and something darker. Christina felt the brush of fabric as the woman's dress slid off her body, revealing a canvas of intricate tattoos that snaked over her skin like living vines. The warm water ran over the ink, bringing them to life in a mesmerizing dance.

"Tiffany and Kim I want you to to go check on Betty," Maedeh's voice was like silk, but the command in it was unmistakable. "Make sure she's...comfortable."

The two Amazonian guards shared a knowing smirk before exiting the room, their footsteps echoing down the hallway. Christina felt a cold dread settle in her stomach at the thought of what they might be doing to her friend. She had to keep her wits about her, had to find a way to escape before it was too late.

Maedeh stepped closer, her body now fully exposed to the spray of water. She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of Christina's jaw with a gentle touch that belied the steel in her grip. "Your silence won't save her," she murmured, her breath warm against Christina's cheek. "But it might just make things interesting for you."

Sara followed suit, her own naked body moving with the grace of a dancer as she approached Christina from behind. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders, and her eyes gleamed with the same sadistic pleasure that Christina had seen earlier. She began to wash Christina's back, her hands moving in slow, sensual circles that sent waves of pleasure crashing through her body. Despite the fear, Christina couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal—the serum was working its dark magic, turning her body against her.

Maedeh's lips brushed against Christina's neck, sending a shiver down her spine. "We know everything about you," she whispered, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin. "Your mission, your cover, everything." Her hand slid down Christina's body, coming to rest on her hip. "But we want to know more," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "We want to know what makes you tick."

Christina's eyes remained focused on the wall, but she could feel the heat of Maedeh's body, the warmth of her breath. Sara's hands continued to roam, moving from her shoulders to her breasts, her touch feather-light and maddening. Despite herself, Christina's breathing grew heavier, her body responding to the unyielding rhythm of the serum. She clenched her fists, trying to hold onto the last threads of her resolve.

Maedeh stepped back, her eyes never leaving Christina's. "You see," she said, her voice a soft crescendo, "you can't resist this. Your body craves it, even if your mind won't admit it." She stepped away, gesturing for Sara to take her place. The younger woman eagerly stepped forward, her own desires clear in the hungry way she looked at Christina.

The shower's warmth was a stark contrast to the icy grip of fear that held Christina captive. Sara's hands were everywhere, her touch a mix of pleasure and pain that seemed to shatter any semblance of control Christina had over her own body. She felt the ring gag being removed, and the cool air of the room hit her face like a slap.

Maedeh leaned in, her eyes glittering with triumph. "You're going to tell us everything," she murmured, her breath hot against Christina's ear. "And when you do, we'll make sure you're...rewarded."

The spy's gaze flickered to the door, a silent plea for escape. But she knew better than to hope for rescue—she had to find a way out herself. As Sara's hands roamed her body, she started to give in to the serum's allure, the warmth spreading through her like a lover's embrace. Despite her training, she found herself leaning into the touch, her mind clouded by the seductive haze of pleasure.

Maedeh stepped closer, her naked form a stark contrast to Christina's bound and helpless state. The Persian woman's eyes gleamed with victory as she reached out, her fingers tracing the line of Christina's jaw. "You're so beautiful when you're like this," she whispered, her breath hot against the spy's skin. "So...malleable."

Her lips met Christina's, the kiss a mix of sweetness and malice. The spy's body tensed, her mind screaming at her to pull away, but the serum had its hold on her. The kiss was deep, demanding, and despite herself, Christina felt a response. The warmth of Maedeh's mouth was like a brand, searing through her resolve and leaving her trembling.

When they broke apart, Maedeh's eyes were gleaming with victory. "Now, let's get you ready for the grand reveal," she said, her voice a purr.

The water was turned off, and Christina was led from the shower, the cold air of the room making her shiver. She was guided to the salon chair, where Sara had set up a tray of makeup. The blonde touch was gentle as she began to apply foundation, her eyes never leaving Christina's.

Maedeh circled her, a predator admiring her prey. "You clean up nicely," she said. She held up a mirror, and Christina's eyes widened at her reflection. Despite the fear and anger roiling within her, she had to admit that she looked...beautiful. The makeup highlighted her features, making her look more like a seductress than a captive spy. Her eyes were lined with kohl, her lashes thick and dark, the neon pink of her nails a stark contrast to the stark white of the salon chair. Her skin was flushed, the serum's effects making her look like she had just stepped out of a lover's embrace.

"Now," Maedeh said, her voice a silky command, "it's time for the final touch." She gestured to the bed, where a maid's costume lay neatly folded. "Put this on," she ordered.

Christina's heart raced as she was led to the bed, the soft fabric of the costume brushing against her skin. She felt a flicker of hope as they uncuffed her wrists, allowing her to dress herself.

But as she reached for the costume, she saw an opportunity. With a burst of strength fueled by adrenaline and desperation, she swung her arm, catching Maedeh off guard and sending her sprawling to the floor. Sara stumbled back with a grunt, and Christina didn't waste a second. She grabbed the nearest object she could find—a heavy brass candlestick—and swung it with all her might. It connected with Sara's stomach, and the other woman doubled over with a gasp, the air leaving her lungs with a whoosh.

Christina didn't wait for them to recover. She sprinted out of the room, her bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor. The corridor was empty, the echo of her footsteps bouncing off the high ceilings and plush walls. The maid costume was discarded behind her, a symbol of the humiliation she had almost suffered. Her eyes darted around, searching for any sign of an escape route.

Her breath was ragged, the adrenaline pumping through her veins like a wildfire. She stumbled into what looked like a storage room, filled with forgotten bottles of nail polish and dusty beauty supplies. In the corner, she spotted a beacon of hope—an old landline phone. It looked like it hadn't been used in years, but it was her only shot.

With trembling hands, she picked it up and dialed a random number. It rang once, twice, then a click. She didn't wait for a response. The message was sent and she hung up, the silence deafening. Christina's eyes searched the room, her mind racing. There had to be a way out of this place, a way to save Betty.

Her gaze fell upon a pair of scissors lying forgotten on a dusty shelf. Without hesitation, she grabbed them, feeling the cold metal in her hand giving her a small semblance of power. With the scissors in hand, she made her way to the next room, her heart racing in her chest. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the flickering candles scattered around. In the center of the room was a large, ornate message table, and underneath it, she spotted a couple of cardboard boxes that looked large enough to hide in.

Without making a sound, she slid under the table, her breathing shallow and fast. The scissors pressed against her chest, a silent promise of retribution if anyone found her. The minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. Then she heard it—the click of heels against the marble. Kim, the blonde guard, walked in, her eyes scanning the room with a bored expression. Christina's pulse pounded in her ears as she waited, her muscles tense and ready to spring.

When Kim was close enough, Christina darted out from her hiding place, the scissors pointed at the woman's throat. "Get down," she hissed, her voice low and deadly. Kim's eyes widened in surprise, but she complied, dropping to her knees. "You will kiss and lick my feet," Christina ordered, her voice unwavering despite the fear that threatened to consume her.

Kim's gaze never left hers as she began to obey, her full lips curling into a snarl. Christina felt a rush of power as the tables turned, her body still humming with the serum's aftermath. She lifted one foot, the neon pink toes taunting the guard. With a growl, Kim leaned in, her tongue sliding out to taste the bare skin. The sensation was surprisingly erotic, a twisted blend of power and submission that made Christina's stomach clench. She gritted her teeth, focusing on the task at hand.

The blonde's tongue traced the arch of her foot, her eyes never leaving Christina's. Each flick and suck sent a shiver through Christina's body, a strange mix of pleasure and revulsion. She knew she had to keep her guard up, had to use this moment to her advantage. As Kim's mouth moved to her other foot, Christina's hand tightened around the scissors, ready to strike if the opportunity presented itself.

But as the minutes ticked by, she realized that the guard was no fool. She was playing along, waiting for a moment of weakness. Christina felt the serum's grip on her body loosening, the warmth receding. The game was changing, and she had to be ready to adapt. She took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Kim's. "Tell me where Betty is," she demanded, her voice a whisper that seemed to echo in the quiet room. "Or I swear I'll use these on you."

Kim's eyes narrowed, and she smirked, the glint of challenge in them. "You won't do it," she murmured, her voice low and seductive. "You're not like us." But Christina knew she had to keep the upper hand. She stepped closer, the scissors pressing into the soft flesh of Kim's neck.

"Where. Is. She?" she repeated, her voice a growl. Kim's eyes flickered with fear, and she knew she had her. "The basement," she choked out. "In the last room on the right."

Christina felt a surge of relief and anger. She had to get to Betty before it was too late. She stepped back, her heart racing as she contemplated her next move. "By the way I can tell how much you enjoyed me worshipping your feet," Kim said with a sneer.

Christina's cheeks flushed with humiliation as she felt the warm wetness between her legs. The serum had done its job, leaving her no control over her body's response. But she couldn't let Kim see her weakness. She tightened her grip on the scissors, her eyes never leaving the other woman's face. "You're the one who's going to be begging," she spat back, the words fueled by the anger coursing through her.

With a swift move, Christina snatched the handcuffs from Kim's pocket, spinning her around and securing her to the massage table with surprising ease. The Amazonian struggled against the restraints, her eyes flashing with anger and fear. "What do you think you're doing?" she growled, her voice muffled by the towel Christina had shoved into her mouth.

Christina leaned in close, her voice a dangerous whisper. "I'm finishing what you started," she said, her eyes glinting with a mix of determination and malice. She grabbed another towel, wrapping it around Kim's head and securing it with the gag. The guard's muffled protests grew louder, but Christina ignored them, her mind racing as she searched for a way to free Betty.

Maedeh's words echoed in her mind as she made her way to the basement, her heart pounding in her chest. The corridor was dimly lit, the shadows playing tricks on her already strained senses. She could hear the faint sounds of moaning and whimpers, and she knew she was getting closer. The serum was wearing off, but the fear remained, a cold knot in her stomach that grew tighter with each step.

As she reached the last door on the right, she took a deep breath, preparing herself for what lay beyond. She turned the handle slowly, pushing it open with the barest of sounds. The room was illuminated by a single flickering bulb, casting eerie shadows across the floor. There, bound to a chair in the center of the room, was Betty, her eyes wide with terror and confusion.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of Betty, her long blue hair now cropped to her shoulders, it wasn't a bad look, but the circumstances were anything but ideal.

Betty's eyes widened in surprise when she saw Christina, her body still reacting to the vibrator's relentless rhythm. The ropes that bound her were intricate, a work of art in themselves, but it was the stark contrast of her nudity against the cold, industrial chair that sent a shiver down Christina's spine. The vibrator was hidden from view, but the muffled cries of pleasure that emanated from her friend's parted lips told a story of its own.

Maedeh stepped out of the shadows, a needle filled with a glowing green serum in her hand. She had a twisted smile on her face, one that promised pain and torment. "Ah, just in time," she purred, her eyes flicking from Christina to Betty and back again. "Your friend here has been such a delightful challenge Betty.

But now," she continued, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper, "it's time for the grand finale. This little concoction here," she held up the needle, the light glinting off the glass, "will make Miss Betty here live out her most terrifying nightmare for 72 hours straight. Can you imagine, Agent Amber?"

Christina's heart skipped a beat. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice thick with rage.

Maedeh's smile grew wider. "It's quite simple, really," she said, " Betty was so easy to break, but not you, my dear. You're made of stronger stuff and that excites me."

Christina felt the rage boil within her. "What do you want?" she growled through gritted teeth.

Maedeh's smile grew more predatory. "Your surrender," she purred. "We have a deal, Agent Amber. You come with us, and I'll spare Miss Betty from this...unpleasantness."

Christina's eyes narrowed, but she knew she had to play along. She nodded curtly, her jaw clenched with rage. "Fine," she said, her voice a low growl. "I'll come with you."

Tiffany just walked in with a pissed off kim, who had clearly escaped her own ordeal. The sight of Kim, her usual confidence replaced by anger, told Christina that she had not enjoyed her time with the vibrator. The Amazonian woman's wrists were bruised, and her eyes burned with a newfound hatred.

Maedeh's eyes lit up at Christina's surrender. "Excellent," she purred, gesturing for Tiffany and Kim to secure her. They moved with the synchronized grace of dancers, wrapping the rope around her wrists and ankles with practiced ease. The rope bit into her skin, a reminder of her captivity, and Christina gritted her teeth as they tightened the knots. But she knew she had to play along—backup was on the way.

As they worked, Christina couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at the discomfort she had caused Kim. It was a small victory in a sea of defeat, but it fueled her determination. She allowed them to tie her up, the ropes feeling like a warm embrace compared to the cold steel of the chair she had just been in.

Maedeh stepped back to admire their handiwork, her eyes lingering on the crotch rope that Kim had added with a smug smile. The rope was tight, pressing against her already sensitive skin. It was uncomfortable, but Christina knew it was a small price to pay for the chance to escape with Betty.

As they began to lead her up the stairs, she heard the soft sound of the basement door opening. Sara rushed in, her eyes wide with excitement. "Ma'am," she gasped, "my computer detected a signal from the old landline."

Maedeh froze, her eyes snapping to Christina. "What did you do?" she hissed.

Christina shrugged, feigning innocence. "I didn't do anything," she said, her voice as smooth as honey. "But it seems someone else was feeling a bit...chatty."

Maedeh's expression darkened, and she turned to Sara.

"Fix this," she barked, gesturing to Christina.

Sara nodded, moving with swift efficiency to Betty's side. The serum was a shade darker than the one Christina had received, and she wondered what new hell it would unleash on her friend. With a cold smile, Sara injected the serum into Betty's arm, the plunger disappearing with a quiet hiss. Betty's body jerked, and she let out a muffled moan through the gag.

Maedeh approached Betty, her voice a silky threat. "Now, let's try again," she said, leaning in close. "Who did Miss Amber contact?"

Betty's eyes rolled back in her head, and her body convulsed. The serum was working its twisted magic, and Christina could see the fear in her friend's gaze. Maedeh takes off her gag, and the room falls silent, save for Betty's ragged breathing.

"Who did Miss Amber contact?" Maedeh asked again, her voice a mix of sweetness and steel.

Betty's eyes snapped to focus, and she managed to croak out the words, "British Intelligence."

Maedeh's smile grew even wider, if that was possible. "Very good," she purred. "The truth serum works wonders, doesn't it?" She stroked Betty's cheek, and Christina could see the fear in her friend's eyes, the horror of realizing she had been played.

"How long do we have?"

"One hour" Betty gasped out, her voice raw from the gag's earlier assault. "They're coming for us. You won't get away with this."

Maedeh's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. But she quickly regained her composure, turning to Sara. "We need to move fast" she barked. " we probably have an extra hour with the signal jammers." Sara informed her, her voice trembling slightly.

Without wasting another moment, Kim and Tiffany moved swiftly, Tiffany hoisted Christina on to her shoulders and Kim took Betty's limp form into her arms. They ascended the stairs, their footsteps echoing through the hallway like a macabre dance. Christina's eyes remained on Betty, her heart racing as she was carried away.

Maedeh followed closely behind, her heels clicking with the rhythm of their steps. She knew time was of the essence and every second counted. Once in the suite, they placed Betty on the plush king-sized bed, her body sprawled out like a discarded ragdoll.

Sara stepped forward, a new set of makeup brushes in her hand. She set to work on Betty's face, her strokes swift and efficient. The harsh light of the room cast shadows on the bruises from the gag, but Sara's skilled hands soon covered them with a fresh layer of foundation. The makeup was applied with precision, transforming Betty into a grotesque parody of the glamorous spy she had once been.

Christina was being hogtied on the floor next to the bed, her arms bound behind her back, her legs pulled up and secured to her wrists, leaving her in a vulnerable and exposed position. The rope bit into her skin, a constant reminder of her helplessness. She watched as Sara painted Betty's face, her friend was looking more beautiful than ever, yet the horror of their situation painted a stark contrast to the serene expression that was being painted on her features.

Betty's eyes searched the room, looking for any sign of escape or rescue, but they only found the cold, unyielding stare of the two Amazons standing guard. The ball gag in her mouth was a constant pressure, a silent scream that only served to amplify the sounds of her own breathing and the pounding of her heart. The crotch rope was a new addition, a cruel reminder of their earlier torment. It was tight, digging into her most sensitive areas, and she couldn't help but whimper as she felt the rope's fibers against her clit.

Maedeh walked over to the bed, her hips swaying with each step. She sat down next to Betty, her eyes tracing the line of the rope that crisscrossed over her breasts and between her legs. "Now, my dear," she said, her voice a sultry purr, "I think it's time we had a little chat." She reached out and stroked the side of Betty's face, her nails lightly scratching the skin. Betty's eyes closed, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to compose herself.

Maedeh leaned in closer, her breath hot against Betty's cheek. "You see," she whispered, "I have something special for you." She held up a vial of dark purple liquid, the contents swirling ominously. "This little cocktail will ensure that no matter what happens here, you won't forget us for a very, very long time." Her smile was cold, the promise in her eyes chilling.

Without warning, she uncorked the vial and brought it to Betty's lips. The spy struggled against her bonds, her eyes wide with terror, but it was futile. The liquid was forced into her mouth, the bitter taste of it coating her tongue. She swallowed reflexively, choking on the thick fluid as it slid down her throat. The serum was potent, and she felt it work its way through her body, the warmth spreading from her stomach outwards like wildfire.

Maedeh stepped back, watching with a cruel smile as Betty's body began to respond. The serum took hold, and Betty's eyes glazed over, her breathing becoming shallower and more rapid. Her cheeks flushed, and her chest heaved, the ropes digging into her skin as she began to arch her back. Christina watched in horror as Betty's expression changed from one of fear to one of pure, unbridled pleasure.

Maedeh leaned in, her voice a seductive murmur. "You see, this isn't just any serum," she said, her eyes gleaming. "It makes you crave what you know is wrong." She traced a finger along Betty's jaw, the gesture intimate and possessive. "And it makes your climaxes...so much more enjoyable."

You can thank Sara for developing this little cocktail," Maedeh said, her voice a sultry purr as she gestured to Betty's bound form. "It's a new formula she's been working on. And as your reward for being such a good little spy and telling us everything, even though we had to use a truth serum to get it out of you, you get to experience it firsthand."

Sara looked up from her work, a wicked glint in her eye. "Only 45 minutes until the party," she reminded Maedeh.

Maedeh straightened, her expression one of reluctance as she stepped away from Betty's writhing body. She walked over to Christina, her heels clicking against the cold tile floor. "Ah, yes," she said, her voice a silky purr. "Time does fly when you're having fun, doesn't it?"

Sara stepped forward, her eyes gleaming as she held out the tube of cherry red lipstick. "Let's give Miss Amber a chance to show her appreciation," Maedeh said, her voice a sultry whisper. With surprising gentleness, she unbuckled the gag from Christina's mouth, the ball popping free with a wet smack.

Maedeh took the lipstick from Sara, her movements deliberate as she traced Christina's bottom lip. "Kiss them," she ordered, her voice a silky command. All the girls took off their left shoe and offered their feet to Christina.

Christina glared at her, the fire in her eyes a stark contrast to the vulnerability of her position. But she knew better than to refuse—not if she wanted to keep her dignity intact. With a resigned sigh, she leaned over and pressed her lips to Kim's foot, the taste of cherry wax on her tongue. The blonde's skin was warm and soft, and she felt the woman's toes curl in response. She left a bold, crimson kiss on the arch of her foot, the imprint of her lips a stark declaration of her defiance.

Next was Tiffany, her dark skin a stark contrast to the pale red of the lipstick. Christina kissed her foot with the same fiery passion. The Amazonian guard's eyes never left hers, a challenge in their depths that she couldn't ignore. Christina held her gaze, refusing to be cowed by the woman's strength.

Then it was Sara's turn. The young woman offered her foot with a smug smile, her black nails gleaming in the candlelight. Christina pressed her lips to the soft, bare skin, leaving a perfect imprint of her kiss. The smell of the serum was faint on Sara's skin, a reminder of the torment she had inflicted. But as Christina pulled away, she saw a flicker of something in the woman's eye's joy? Excitement? It was unnerving, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Maedeh foot was lazily presented next, and with a snarl, Christina kissed it, leaving a crimson stain that matched the shade of the gag that had so recently silenced her. The woman's skin was cool and soft, a stark contrast to the steel in her gaze. Christina felt a surge of anger as she kissed the foot, but she knew that giving in to her emotions would only serve to entertain her captors.

Each kiss was a silent declaration of her refusal to be broken, a promise that she would find a way out of this twisted game. "Good job, my dear," Maedeh purred, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You may be wondering why we're going to all this trouble. It's simple, really—I want to remember tonight. Maedeh started to explain "After we escape tonight we're going celebrate by getting a tattoo of your lips stain, a permanent memory of our fun tonight," she said with a wicked smile. "And as for that idiot husband of mine, you can tell him I've had enough. He's not man enough to handle me." Besides I've always found girls more attractive anyway."

Maedeh nodded to Kim, who stepped forward with a leather ring gag. It was a stark contrast to the elegant evening wear the women had been forced into, a reminder of the cruel reality they faced. Christina felt the cool metal press against her teeth as Kim buckled it into place, the leather biting into her cheeks. The ring was adorned with tiny, shimmering diamonds that caught the light, a twisted symbol of the opulence that surrounded them. The gag filled her mouth, the taste of leather and the coppery tang of fear mingling on her tongue.

"Lift her up," Maedeh ordered, her eyes gleaming with a twisted anticipation. Tiffany and Kim obeyed, hoisting Christina onto the bed next to Betty. The ropes dug into her wrists and ankles as they adjusted her position, her mouth now level with Betty's exposed and vulnerable pussy.

Sara stepped back to admire her handiwork, the serum making Betty's skin glow with an unnatural sheen. "It's time," she announced, her voice a mix of excitement and business-like efficiency. "Maedeh, if you'd like to do the honors."

Maedeh nodded, her eyes alight with a dark glee. She picked up a small, heart-shaped object, the kind of thing you might find in a adult toy store, but this one had a set of wires trailing from it that led to a small, ominous-looking device. Christina's eyes widened in horror as she realized what it was. A butt plug, but not just any butt plug—this one was designed for interrogation purposes. The Persian woman approached Christina, her movements graceful despite the tension in the room. She held up the device, letting it catch the light as she stepped closer to the bound spy.

Christina felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead as Sara stepped aside, making room for Maedeh to proceed. The Persian woman's eyes never left hers as she leaned in, the tip of the plug pressing against her anus. The coolness of the metal sent a shiver through her body, a stark contrast to the heat of the serum that still lingered in her veins. She tried to tense, to resist, but it was useless. Kim if you would," Maedeh said, gesturing to the machine.

The blonde stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she connected the wires to the plug. She flicked a switch, and Christina felt a sharp jolt of electricity shoot through her body. Her muscles clenched around the intrusion, and she bit back a scream. The pain was intense, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure so intense it was almost unbearable. She bucked against the restraints, her eyes squeezed shut, as Maedeh began to move the plug in and out.

Then Kim attached a loose wire to her gag, the metal cold against her skin. The wire snaked around her head, the ends connecting to a device in Maedeh's hand. "Now," Maedeh said, her voice a seductive purr, "we're going to have a little fun with this."

"You see Betty deserves a little...treat," Maedeh said, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent as she held the device in her hand. "And if you cooperate, I might just make it worth your while." She leaned in closer to Christina, her breath hot against her ear. "I want you to make her cum," she whispered, her voice a silky caress that made Christina's skin crawl. "And every time you stop, you'll feel this." She tapped the device, sending a jolt of electricity through the wire and into Christina's mouth and buttt.

Christina's eyes widened with shock, and she nodded frantically, desperate to avoid the pain. She turned to Betty, who stared back the drug take full affect now making her eyes glazed with a mix of fear and need. Maedeh's sadistic smile grew wider as she watched the two friends' silent communication. She knew she had them right where she wanted them.

Christina leaned in, her tongue tentative at first, but the electric shock from the gag quickly turned the tentativeness into urgency. She began to lick and kiss Betty's pussy, her movements driven by the fear of the pain that would come if she stopped. Betty's body responded despite the situation, her hips bucking against Christina's face. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Christina's efforts and Betty's muffled moans.

Maedeh watched with a cruel smile, her hand resting on the remote that controlled the intensity of the butt plug's vibrations. "That's it," she coaxed, her voice like a snake's hiss. "Make her come for me, Amber."

Christina's eyes never left Betty's, her own fear and determination mirrored in the other woman's gaze. "OK girls we gotta be going," Maedeh purred, her eyes gleaming with victory as she stood up from the bed. "But before we go, a little parting gift for Miss Amber here."

Sara stepped forward, her movements deliberate and precise as she reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, vibrating egg. It was a twisted, shiny pink, a grotesque caricature of something that should have been innocent. She approached Christina, who felt her stomach drop. The egg was attached to a remote control, and Maedeh took it with a flourish, her eyes never leaving Christina's face.

Maedeh leaned in, her breath hot against Christina's ear. "A little something to remember us by," she whispered, a malicious glint in her eye. With a sadistic smile, she inserted the egg into Christina's already soaked pussy, the sensation of fullness making the spy's eyes roll back in her head. She bit down on the gag, her jaw clenched as she fought the wave of pleasure that threatened to overwhelm her.

" Oh by the way, this was all Betty's deepest desires," Maedeh announced with a wicked smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she walked awayfor the final time. Betty's eyes went wide with shock and disbelief, her mind racing to comprehend what was just told. "Admitted under the influence of our little truth serum," she continued, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "It seems your friend here has quite the...kinky side she's been keeping hidden."

The first orgasm hit Betty like a bolt of lightning, ripping through her body with a force she had never felt before. Her eyes rolled back in her head and a muffled scream was trapped by the gag as her body shaking. The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that she almost forgot the horror of her situation. Almost. The serum had turned her body into a traitor, a plaything for Maedeh's twisted games.

Christina felt the vibrations of the egg deep within her, the buzzing echoing through her body as she focused on her binds. Her mind was a maelstrom of emotions—sexual tension, anger, and the burning need to escape. The ropes dug into her wrists, a constant reminder of her captivity, but she refused to give up. Her eyes never left Betty's, the silent communication between them a lifeline in the storm.

With a sudden burst of strength, she managed to slip one hand free from its restraint. The shock of victory washed over her, and she gritted her teeth, determination setting her jaw. The vibrator in her pussy was a constant distraction, but she ignored it, her mind solely on the task at hand. Her free hand worked at the knots around her other wrist with furious intent, her fingers deft and nimble despite the tremors of pleasure that shot through her.

Betty's second orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, the intensity of the serum taken over. Her body arched off the bed, her legs thrashing wildly. The gag muffled her screams, but her eyes—those piercing blue orbs—spoke volumes of the agony she was experiencing. Christina felt the heat of her own climax building, the vibrations from the egg inside her almost too much to bear. But she had to be the strong one, had to keep her wits about her.

With a grunt of effort, she managed to free her second hand, the ropes finally sliding off her wrist. The metallic taste of victory washed over her as she reached up to her mouth, her fingers trembling as she unclipped the gag's wires. The egg inside her was relentless, its vibrations pulsing in time with the pounding in her chest. Her eyes never left Betty's, silently willing her to hold on, to fight through the pain.

Christina's hand moved swiftly to her own restraints, her movements frantic. With trembling fingers, she managed to untangle the wires attached to the butt plug in her own body. The sudden silence was deafening, finally she removed her vibrator egg with a gasp of relief. She watched Betty, who was still caught in the throes of her forced ecstasy, her body convulsing with each wave of pleasure.

Christina quickly ungags Betty, the rubber ball popping free from her friend's mouth. Betty gasps for air, her eyes glazed over from the aftermath of the forced pleasure. "Betty, are you alright"

Betty's eyes slowly focused on Christina's, and she nodded weakly. "Y-yeah," she croaked, her voice hoarse from the gag.

Christina didn't waste any time. She helped Betty sit up and worked on the knots binding her wrists. The fabric of the ropes was rough against her skin, but she felt a sense of urgency that dulled the pain. With each twist and pull, she felt the bonds of their captivity loosening. Finally, Betty's hands were free, and she clutched at Christina's arms, her nails digging into the flesh as she tried to stand.

"We need to get dressed," Christina murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced around the room, her eyes searching for anything that could be used as clothing. The only items of clothing in sight were the remnants of Christina torn dress and her own discarded underwear. She knew that they couldn't meet their backup half-nude and vulnerable. Then she saw it two robs hanging on the back of the door, likely belonging to the spa. "Here," she said, tossing one to Betty and wrapping the other around herself. The fabric was thick and warm, covering their exposed bodies.

Just as they managed to get dressed, the door to the suite burst open with a deafening crack. A swarm of agents in black tactical gear rushed in, weapons drawn, their eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger. Christina and Betty blinked in the sudden onslaught of light, their hearts racing as they realized they had been found.

The first few days after their rescue were a blur of doctors' offices and debriefing rooms. They were poked and prodded, asked the same questions over and over again by a never-ending parade of stern-faced officials. The CEO of British Intelligence, a beautiful 50 year old woman named Victoria, had a meeting with them. Her silver hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her eyes were sharp as she listened to their story, nodding every so often.

"You two did excellent work," Victoria said, her voice clipped and professional. "The intel you gathered, the targets you captured...it was a great success."

Christina and Betty exchanged a look, the weight of their ordeal momentarily lifted by the words. Despite the horrors they had endured, the knowledge that they had achieved their mission filled them with a strange sense of pride. They had survived, and in doing so, had struck a blow against the very people who had tried to break them. "I'm promoting you both to the rank of senior operatives," Victoria continued, her gaze unwavering. "You've earned it." Now get ready for your next case.

The two women looked at each other, then back at Victoria. "Yes ma'am," they said in unison, their voices a mix of exhaustion and determination. Despite their ordeal, the thought of returning to the field was strangely exhilarating.

[bondagefreak]

@Hottbatgirl69
Please fix the gender-tag ASAP. "f" stands for underage female.
This is unacceptable and needs to be labelled properly.