Agent Davis

Agent Davis, obviously out of her comfort zone, tries to establish some rules, "Okay, I'll ask the questions and Maria will provide the...entertainment." She spits the last word out in disgust.

You shake your head no.

"Fine, I'll ask the questions and Agent Flores and I will alternately..."

You shake your head no once more. This bitch has turned your already shitty life upside down due to something as basic as mistaken identity. You want her to pay for her incompetence.

"No, the lovely Maria will wait outside." You smile and nod to her, "And you will do both the questioning and the stripping."

A pink blush comes across Davis' face. "You son of a bitch." They look at each other, Davis is upset but she wants to get things moving. "Fine, let's get this over with. Try anything or touch me or try to escape and my guys will be in here faster than you can say Blimey."

Maria stands and leans in, you hear her whisper. "This probably isn't a good idea."

"I know, but this is our opening. We have to take it." She stops a moment to think about the situation, "Listen, don't let anyone in here unless you hear me call for you. I don't need the others to get an eye full unless it is necessary."

"Understood."

"And remember, not a word of this leaves this house."

With that Maria leaves the room and closes the door behind her. Agent Davis goes for her suit jacket, trying to add another layer, but you stop her. "Nope, we begin now."

"No way! I get my jacket."

"Nope, we start right now.

She is visibly flustered. "Alright," impatiently she presses straight into the interview and spits out her first few questions, "Are you working alone? Do you have someone inside the FBI? Who is your handler?"

"No. Yes. Not a yes or no question. That's two pieces of clothing please." You get up and slide the table out from between you. "I want to enjoy this." You sit back down and lean back.

The agent is obviously excited by the enticing information. "Wait, more questions..."

"That's not how the game works Agent Davis. Two pieces please."

She nods, "Yes, fine." She hurriedly slips off both shoes and kicks them to the side. "Okay, there. Do you have more than one mole inside the FBI?"

"Yes."

"Which offices?" Realizing her mistake in not phrasing it as a yes or no question she quickly presses onward, "New York? Dallas? Chicago?"

"Yes, yes, no." You lie. "That's four answers. No more until you do your end." You grin.

"Fuck!" Looking down at herself she takes stock of what she can lose. "My watch and holster count!"

"Fine."

She removes her watch and places it on the table. She removes the holster and carefully puts it across the room in an old flower pot, putting it as far from you as she can. She exhales, annoyed. With no other choice she loosens her pants and slides them off. Her black nylons highlight her long shapely legs, you are surprised to see a cute pair of pink panties beneath. She unbuttons her blouse and sheds it off, attempting to do so in the least sexy way possible. A matching pink bra with a tiny bow holds her round b-cup breasts. You sit and admire her lithe sexy figure. This was getting good.