[Part One](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cs2xln/spycraft_lessons_sexual_interogation_fm_bdsm/)
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“Come on, you have to give me more to work with,” I said, pleading. At the current moment I was sitting on a bed in the dormitory of one of my TA’s. By “sitting”, what I really meant was that I was laying on my back, my legs positioned indian-style vertically against the wall. My head was dangling over the edge of the bed, my hair hanging down.
I’m not usually prone to fidgeting, but dealing with Tyrone was starting to get to me. He had an almost robotically polite way of interacting with people. Friendly enough, but he didn’t react emotionally to anything anybody said to him.
He was sitting at his computer, his fingers danced across his keyboard like he was conducting an orchestra, the light from all three of his monitors reflecting against his glasses. Without stopping, he said, “I’m sorry, but that’s really all the details I can provide for you at this time.”
“This is dangerous business, Tyrone,” I replied, rolling over. “I could get killed, or if I’m discovered, I could get expelled. I need to know if you have my back on this.”
“I don’t think Jeriah is going to kill you,” Tyrone replied. “Maybe just talk to him? I hear that works well.”
“Have you tried talking to him?” I asked.
Tyrone paused his typing, tilting his head. “Well, yes, but not in a romantic context.”
“Well, let me fill you in. He completely shuts down. He’s ice cold, then super passionate, then dismissive, then really sweet, then he goes ape mode-”
“This really isn’t my area of expertise.”
“It’s like prying open a bear trap! The second I think I’m about to get him to talk to me, it’s like he gets possessed by the ghost of Christmas Go Fuck Yourself, and he resents me for getting close to him. Why are guys like this?”
Tyrone sighed and rubbed his cheek. “Look, your frustrations are legitimate. I just can’t help you with them. I don’t know him that well, and even if I wanted to provide you with his psych profile, I couldn’t. It’s locked up in Professor Gerfrid’s office.”
“Really?” I asked, perking up. I had no idea where those profiles were being stored.
“Really. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s got some sort of history. We all do. Nobody grows up to be a spy because they had a happy childhood. Now, can we please focus on your actual assignment?”
“Sure,” I replied, and hopped off his bed.
“The target is a semi-high ranking member of a criminal cartel. Upper middle-management. He’s a high-risk target, however you should be perfectly safe as long as you don’t get caught.” A picture of a large, muscular man in a tight fitting suit filled one of the screens. He looked like a bare knuckle brawler that somebody had beaten civilization into.
Tyrone continued. “His wife is an attorney that represents the same organization. She’s technically higher up the chain of command, but we don’t believe she’s personally hurt anybody. Still, you should watch yourself around her.” Another picture on a different monitor. She was pretty, with an expression of detached professionalism. Her icy gaze sent a shiver through me.
“You’ll be going undercover as a babysitter from a temp agency-” Tyrone continued.
“Wait, a honeypot mission? So soon?” I replied.
Tyrone paused. “Not … really? You’re just trying to retrieve some documents from a safe. We already have the pass code, we just need you to physically go in and get it.”
“Right, duh. That makes sense. I guess I shouldn’t just leap to conclusions like that.”
“Well, remember, seduction is always a valid option. Especially in your case. I think you were picked for this mission due to your appearance.”
“Oh?” I asked, blushing.
“The laptop in the apartment has been used to look up multiple porn actresses with a similar … physique and ancestral background as you,” Tyrone said.
“He’s into asians, I get it.”
“There is also a specific fetish. The male actor will be copulating with the female actress, when a second actress walks in portraying the significant other of the male. She eventually joins in. There is also a humiliation aspect.”
“Oh my God, you are not allowed to describe pornography,” I said, putting my face in my hands.
“Here are the female actresses that populate the films, if you wish to emulate their fashion,” Tyrone suggested helpfully, pulling up a series of images. I peeked through my fingers.
“I don’t think the average babysitter wears skin tight leather. Although the whip would probably help keep the children in line.”
“I also have some of the films queued to play if you’d like to watch them.”
I looked at him for several seconds before answering. “I appreciate the effort, but our friendship is not at that level.”
“I am only attempting to provide you a complete dossier regarding your mission,” Tyrone replied. I sighed, and shook my head.
“I appreciate that. But really, how hard can swiping a folder be?” I said.
—-
As it turned out, swiping a folder really had been the easy part. It was watching over a hyperactive five year old with a sugar addiction that had been exhausting. We were at a birthday party held at a restaurant that employed uncanny-valley furry automatons. I’d been making sure little Timmy didn’t die from overly loud music or insultingly bland pizza for several hours, and I was beyond relieved when it was time to take him home.
The apartment that Timmy lived in with his parents was luxurious. Vaulted ceilings, expensive paintings, and a carpet thicker than some mattresses I’ve had to make do with. Every square inch of it was cleaned and polished. It was so pristine, that the place didn’t really feel lived in, if that makes sense.
I thought back to what Tyrone had said, about happy childhoods among spies. Timmy was having his needs watched out for, certainly, but was he lonely? How often did his parents stay out so late? Would he grow up to be one of us?
Timmy still had a half hour until bedtime, so we played a video game he liked. I let him win so he wouldn’t cry himself to sleep, then had him brush his teeth and go to bed.
Right before tucking him in, I gave him a little “be good” treat that contained benadryl, melatonin, and another sedative. I really didn’t need him waking up and walking around to find me ransacking his home to find a safe like a bizarro reverse Santa Clause.
The safe ended up being behind the third painting I’d looked behind. Not shocking, I suppose. It was in the lounge, several rooms deep into the apartment. I got the safe opened without any problem, replaced a sealed envelope inside with a decoy, got it closed up again, and got the painting back up in place with only a minor struggle. So far, so good for my first –
The front door of the apartment opened.
My mind went into a hyper panic.
I was in the lounge, which fortunately had a door between it and the main entrance. It was a large room, with a huge television, a lovely couch, a couple of tables and stuffed chairs, a high-end laptop, and me, holding an envelope I was absolutely not supposed to have.
By the third heartbeat after hearing the front door open, I was acting on a plan.
Timmy’s father, a fairly somber businessman named Mr. Reese, called out for me as he made his way through his home. “Thank you for staying late! I can drive you home, or call you a cab, or you can stay here for the night, whatever you’d like to do.”
“I don’t know,” I called towards him. I tried to relax as I heard the door open behind me, and heard his breath catch in his throat. “What would you like to do?”
Mr. Reese had just walked in on me wearing a silver anklet, a gold necklace with a turtle pendant, and that’s all. My back was to him, my hair cascading down in a rich dark waterfall, ending right around my tailbone. My arms were up, running through my hair. I was looking over my shoulder at him, with a smile that promised mischievous delights.
My heart was pounding against my chest like it was trying to get out. It took every ounce of self control I had to not shake like a small dog at the pound. What if this didn’t work? Why the hell was my first instinct to resort to seduction at the earliest sign of trouble? And why the hell was I so damn *wet?*
Mr. Reese walked over to me, slowly undoing his tie as his eyes devoured me. “Well well, aren’t you full of surprises.” He reached out, and lifted my hands up and over his own head, pressing my body up against his. He cupped my chin in his hand and tilted my face upwards, and he leaned down to give me a kiss that roared with hunger. “And here I thought you were the quiet type.”
“No,” I replied, my eyes fluttering. “I’m a screamer.” His hand dropped down to grip me by the throat, and a spasm rolled through me. I wasn’t sure if it was losing control or the danger that was turning me on so much, but I wasn’t sure I could leave at that moment even if I had the chance.
He kissed me as he held me pinned against him. He didn’t choke me, not really, just squeezed a little to show me how easily he could. Maybe he intended it as a threat, or a promise.
He then moved, dragging me along like a porcelain doll. He brought me over to the end table that held the laptop. He bent me over, roughly. “Careful about your computer,” I said, as it was almost sent to the floor.
“It’s my wife’s,” He replied. “Now, as for what I would like to do, I’d like to pound that tight little ass of yours.”
I groaned. “There’s lube in my purse. I’ll go get it.”
“Maybe in a bit,” Mr. Reese replied. Behind me I could hear a zipper coming down, could feel the slackening fabric of his pants. A moment later, I could feel the hot tingle of flesh pulsing against my inner thigh.
“God damn,” Mr. Reese said, as the head of his cock felt the drenched entrance to my cunt. Without warning or mercy, he gripped my hair tightly in his fist and began to push himself into me.
My last roll in the hay had been with my classmate Jeriah, an admittedly embarrassing affair that revolved around an assignment. Jeriah had been rough, possibly even ferocious, but he hadn’t come near how callous Reese was being.
Where Jeriah’s fuck style involved a dark passion tinged with what felt like lovemaking, Reese was pure animalistic libido. He railed against me, taking pleasure from my body, not caring about giving any back.
It was at that moment that I started to realize something about myself. I felt like I could feel something coming from the men I had sex with. With Jeriah, it felt like something was threatening to overwhelm a dam. With Mr. Reese, it felt like he was a man who’d been starved half to insanity. As though the brutal carnal energy was something he’d been craving, and been denied, for years.
Another thing I learned about myself: apparently I had a little bit of a kink for raw, primal sex. I pushed myself back against him like I was in heat, my fingers grabbing the tablecloth and gripping on to it for dear life. I was panting and groaning as I took his onslaught, loving the pain from my hair and the slap of his meaty thighs against my ass.
Mr. Reese had left the door open when he came to take me. Which means that when Mrs. Reese came home and strolled through the door, her face a painting of shock and surprise, we were both startled.
My brain went into panic mode again. I had apparently fucked up VERY badly, and was about to be dragged into some insane domestic situation. At the same time, a new plan began to form in my head, one that I could hardly believe.
“Harry, what the hell are you doing?” Mrs. Reese demanded. Mr. Reese was standing still, his cock still buried in me.
The porn that Tyrone had talked about was on this laptop.
The laptop was hers.
“Well?” Mrs. Reese insisted. Mr. Reese was still too surprised for words.
“He’s fucking a better pussy,” I said. The words left my throat before I even realised what I was doing. Apparently I had very slutty instincts, because the rest of the plan was filled in as I reached behind me, grabbed Mr. Reese’s ass, and pushed him deeper into me.
“Excuse me?” his wife said, as she stepped towards me, her eyes glittering. I couldn’t afford to be wrong. I needed her to get on board with this as quickly as possible.
“I told you, he’s fucking the pussy of a superior woman.” I began to gyrate my hips, fucking Mr. Reese like he was a wall mounted dildo. He involuntarily began to thrust into me again, a low moan escaping his throat.
“Did you really expect him to settle with you forever?” I sneered. “When he could have someone like me?” There was no possible chance this could work. Tyrone had said there was a humiliation fetish, but never specified which way it went.
Mrs. Reese stalked toward me like a wolf smelling blood. Her eyes were glittering, her fingers clenched, her whole body trembling. Was it anger that was driving her right now, or something else?
“I can’t believe this. Harry, how could you do this to me?” Mrs. Reese said, ignoring me.
“I told you, because I’m better,” I said, before Mr. Reese could fuck this up for me. I began to tighten around him, using my inner muscles to try and pull him deeper into me. “Tell her,” I said, looking over my shoulder at him. “Tell her that I feel better than she does.”
Mr. Reese groaned and shuddered as I brought him to the brink of orgasm in front of his wife. “She is. I’m sorry honey. She’s so fucking good.”
“Say it,” I demanded.
“She’s- She’s better than you,” Mr. Reese gasped, his body shaking.
“Do you have any idea what I’m going to do?” she asked, her tone and body language colder than an iceberg.
I’d already cast my dice. The only thing left to do was let them ride. “You’re going to sit down in that chair, and show me how wet your sloppy pussy is, and you’re going to watch and learn how a real woman fucks.”
The iceberg cracked. The woman I’d just met thirty seconds ago dropped her eyes and turned a deep red. She shuffled over to the overstuffed chair that was facing us, and primly sat down. After a moment of indecision, she slowly began to hike up her skirt. Her black silk panties came into view. Carefully, awkwardly, she began to slide her hand into the waistband as she watched the two of us.
Her head tilted back, her eyes lowering to slits as her fingers began to explore herself. She sighed deeply as her other hand came up to massage her breasts through her blouse. I let her go for a bit, and I’d stopped trying to strangle Mr. Reese’s dick. For my plan to work, I needed him to last a bit longer.
She was starting to get more into it now, undoing a few buttons to get better access to her own chest. “Take your panties off,” I ordered in a throaty whisper. She paused, then mostly complied, scooching her underwear down to her ankles and leaving them there.
She returned to her tender self ministrations, trying to slide a couple fingers in between tightly clenched thighs. “Spread them,” I commanded. She turned a deeper red, looking at the floor, as she slowly spread her knees, presenting me with her dripping cunt. I was surprised by how wet she was; the black panties had done a good job keeping her level of arousal a secret.
I should have probably given her some more orders, but I was getting too distracted. Mr. Reese was now enthusiastically slapping his body against me, his fingers digging into my hips so he could drive himself harder against me. Taking control was fun, but I needed a break.
“Fuck me like you did before,” I said in a low voice, looking over at him. “You know, when you choked me a little?”
That did it. The animal lust resurged into him, and he began to fuck me in ernest, one of his hands reaching up and gripping my throat. My hands came up to clutch his forearm, hanging on for dear life.
In a fit of inspiration, he bunched up my hair in his fist, holding it like a ponytail. He then wrapped it around my neck, turning my own hair into a ligature. He gripped me tightly like this, cutting off my air completely.
I started to panic, wondering if I’d pushed things too far. He was strangling me hard enough to cut off my air, and patches of darkness were creeping into the corners of my vision. On the other hand, the complete control he held over my life and cunt was unimaginably hot. I was shivering with panic and pleasure, completely losing track of the world around me.
The orgasm that had been building up inside of me like a gathering storm unleashed itself while my body was still burning for air. It was intensity to the point that I could feel myself just starting to black out.
At the same time, I could feel a distant warmth flooding me from within, and could hear the sound of Mr. Reese grunting like bear as though it was in a separate room. His hands slipped from my hair and neck, and I slumped to the table, coughing and gasping. Mr. Reese stepped back from me, his cock leaving a thick white trail as he left.
I took some deep breaths as I composed myself, and looked up. The wife was still sitting there, legs splayed wide. She’d managed to free her tits somewhat, and was tugging on her nipples as we made eye contact. She licked her lips, her face dotted with tiny beads of sweat.
I wasn’t in the clear yet. In order to make sure I could leave, I needed the two of them too occupied to stop me, or ask questions. Shock had been the first weapon. Now it was time for awe.
I pushed myself up to a standing position, then walked around the end table until there was nothing between me and the wife. I leaned my butt against the edge of the table, letting it help me balance.
I snapped my fingers twice, like I was summoning a dog. Then I pointed to the ground in front of me. “Hands and knees,” I said. My voice was rough from the choking, but it ended up sounding like a growl, so it still worked.
I looked behind me, and saw that Mr. Reese was standing there, looking at the two of us in confusion. He was going to start thinking soon. Time to give him a chore. “Get the lube from my bag, and get behind her.”
I was grateful that I’d positioned the lube at the very top of my purse. Looking back, I hadn’t thought very much about it at the time. Why do something so inconvenient, if I wasn’t planning on seducing anyone? Had a part of me been hoping that this would occur? Had a part of me caused this to occur?
I shook the thoughts from my head and focused on the wife. She was crawling towards me now, her posture like a newborn calf that was still mastering four legged motion. She slowly arrived in front of me, her breath tingling the bare skin of my groin.
“Yes, Miss?” She asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.
“Head down, ass up,” I instructed. She got down into position, pressing her forehead to the carpet. Her husband had retrieved the lube and was now moving to stand behind her. “Kneel down. Start working a finger into her rear,” I said.
“I, uh, I don’t think that I want that,” said Mrs. Reese, stammering over her words.
I switched to a cutesy, pleading voice. “Mr. Reese? Your wife lied to me. I don’t like it when she does that.” I switched back to my domineering tone. “Punish her.”
He stared at me in surprise, holding the lube an inch above his finger, a dallop still swinging freely from the nozzle. I rolled my eyes. “Spank her. Spank her ass nice and red. Then start to slowly finger her with one hand. With the other hand, go back and forth between spanking her and playing with her pussy.”
Mr. Reese’s eyes glowed with almost childlike glee, while his wife whimpered. “Slowly,” I mouthed, while making speed appropriate motions with my hands. “Start very slow.”
The man in front of me began spanking his wife, softly at first, gathering speed. I think their marriage had a few frustrations that had been allowed to fester until this moment, and I could see his cock hardening at the violence. While I watched, I could feel his cum ooze down my leg. It must have been a hell of a load; it had managed to drip all the way down my heel.
I saw that Mr. Reese was getting ready to start probing, so I decided a distraction would be welcome. “Mrs. Reese, do you think I ought to let you have some of your husband’s cum?”
“Y- Yes, please,” she stammered. Her voice sounded thick. Maybe it was tears, or arousal.
“Then you may begin cleaning it up, starting from the bottom,” I said. The woman looked up at me, surprised, and then saw the trail her husband had left for her. She followed it down, until she saw the small pool that had collected next to my foot.
Tentatively, she reached her tongue out, straining to lap up the cum from the fibers. That’s when her husband began to work his pinky into her. She jumped up in surprise, but got back to her task a moment later.
Her husband continued to slowly push his smallest digit inside of her, while taking my advice about mixing pleasure and pain as a distraction. I had to admit, I wasn’t usually into domination, and I wasn’t really attracted to women, but having this much control over both was giving me a rush.
The husband got increasingly bold with his fingers as his wife’s tongue began to slowly climb up my foot. When she was at my ankle, she seemed to stop whimpering at every intrusion of his pinky.
Along my calf, she got accustomed to feeling his middle finger instead. She paused at my knee, requiring a bit of a break to get used to a second finger. Her noises were not pained any more though. By the time she was half way up my thigh, she had begun pushing back against his hand, moaning softly at his abuse.
I gestured at him to use his dick, which had regained its intimidating size. It’s possible the wife needed more time, but like I said, I wasn’t actually into chicks. He began to rub the head of his rod against her back entrance, as her breath began to tickle my pussy.
I stood watching as he began to ease himself into her, listening to her groan with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Just go slow,” I said, quietly. The wife resumed her upward trek after a few seconds. I could feel the warmth of her head against me, could feel that her nose was close to grazing my drenched cunt.
It was so hot, watching him take her, feeling her submission to me. I wasn’t really attracted to women, but did that matter right now? Her soft, gentle tongue would feel amazing, especially as I leaned back and enjoyed my own live-action porn that I got to direct.
Mrs. Reese moaned louder, and I could feel the vibrations travel through my delicate skin, exciting the nerve endings of my sex. Her tongue was almost upon me now, just another half second before I’d get to watch a woman suck her own husband’s cum out of my dripping wet cunt. Have her worship me with her tongue, her eye’s grateful for my every shudder, bringing her and me both to a screaming, gasping climax…
“I’ll be right back,” I said, my voice high pitched.
I hopped up on the table, lifted up my knees, and scooted sideways out of her reach before she licked my core. Maybe next time.
“What? What’s wrong?” Mrs. Reese said, her voice sounding hurt.
“I have some other toys downstairs,” I said, as I quickly walked over to my pile of clothes, my purse sitting open on top. “I’m just going to go grab them.” I picked up the pile, in the middle of which lay the envelope I’d been sent to retrieve. “You two keep going until I get back. Remember, don’t cum without my permission.”
I power walked out of their apartment, still holding my clothes in a bundle in front of my nude body, not bothering to close the door behind me. I marched over to the elevator and stabbed the down arrow repeatedly. The cold air was giving me goose pimples as I waited. I heard a door behind me open.
I turned and saw an older gentleman standing in his doorway, looking at me in shock. After a moment of silence, I asked “Can I help you with something?”
“I… I was going to go downstairs,” he said, his wide eyes wandering over my body. It was obvious he was trying to be a gentleman, trying to look me in the eyes and not gawk over my slim lithe body. He was failing miserably.
The door in front of me opened, and luckily for me, it was empty. I stepped in and immediately hit the button for the ground floor. “Might want to take the next one,” I said. “This one’s full.” The door closed, hiding me from his sight. Far off, I could hear Mr. and Mrs. Reese, shouting, at the brink of conjoined climax.
I hit the elevator stop button after a couple floors, and quickly got dressed. I had managed to successfully grab everything except, of course, my panties. Again. This was starting to become an unfortunate habit. I hit the button to make the elevator resume.
My phone rang, making me jump. If the elevator was getting reception, this place MUST have been expensive. I pulled out my phone and answered with a casual hello.
“Nice work on the mission,” came Tyrone’s voice.
“Thanks, I just finished. I think I just ruined a marriage, or possibly saved it.” I paused, as his words seeped in. “Wait, how do you know about how my mission is going?” I replied.
“Part of my responsibilities is monitoring the progress of everyone’s assignments for the purpose of grading.”
“How could you monitor anything, it was a private residence.”
“Same way I got that passcode for you. I have complete access to the laptop.”
My blood went cold. “Including the webcam?”
“Naturally, yes.”
“You didn’t record anything, did you?”
“Yes, but only for the purposes of grading. No one will see any of the footage except for myself and Professor Gerfrid.”
My stomach began to tie up in knots. “I’d really rather if he didn’t see it.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way. He’s really going to enjoy watching it.”
My stomach was still in knots, but now another part of my body began to tighten up. “Oh? Really? You think maybe he’d like it?”
“Of course. He’s always proud when one of his students think quickly in difficult situations. I can’t guarantee anything, but I suspect you’ll get high marks.”
“Oh,” I said, deflating.
“Anyways, the reason I called was to ask if you needed a ride. One of our vehicles is near your area, transporting a different student. Want to carpool?”
“Yea, sure,” I replied. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome. I look forward to seeing more of your work. Good night,”
“Good night,” I replied. After a moment’s thought, “Wait, did you just flirt with me?”
The line had already gone dead. I put my phone away. No, he couldn’t have been flirting with me. He doesn’t know how.
I walked outside of the luxury apartment building to see a black car pulled up to the curb. I bent down to see if I recognized anybody, and saw Jeriah Tate sitting inside, looking out the window in a pensive brood. I considered walking instead, but swallowed the flight instinct down. I opened the car door and slid in next to him.
Jeriah turned to look at me, letting his eyes flicker over my clothing, hair, and makeup for half a second as the car pulled into traffic. “Honey pot?” he asked.
“That’s what it looks like,” I replied truthfully.
He smirked. “Have a good time?”
“Oh yea,” I replied, and decided to push his buttons a little. “She was super hot.” I was rewarded with his eyes widening slightly. “How did your night go?”
“Not up to my usual standards,” he said, his gaze returning to the window.
“Sounds like you should try to blow off some steam,” I replied.
“Oh yea? You got any ideas?” He turned back to me, a glint in his eyes hinting at his dark passion.
He was hot, he was a great fuck, and I was still on edge. And yet… fuck this ridiculous asshole who tried to keep me guessing with his hot-and-cold bullshit. I don’t play games. “I have to wash my hair,” I said in a flat tone.
“Ahh,” he replied.
“Maybe you could help me?” I added. God damn my treacherous libido.
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Thank you to everyone who posted their comments to the stories I posted last week! Your positivity has made it easier for me to get into writing, and I just wanted you guys to know that you really have helped me out. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I’m trying to get more into writing on a regular basis, so I’m hoping to keep expanding on this and other series. I may take some time off from short stories soon too work on longer pieces, but I’ll try to keep you guys in the loop. I really love seeing your posts and reading any messages you send me. Of course, the best way to encourage me to continue writing a particular story is to post or send me a picture of your kitty.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/cuu8uh/spycraft_lessons_part_2_field_work_assignment_mf
Looks delicious
Love everything you write!!