Check the Cellar Further

(Art by StrippedComicArt!)

“Terrible choices in wine,” Agent Carter said as she looked around the wine cellar. The intel was right on this area being ignored as the party began elsewhere in the castle. For Peggy, she had always wanted to have a better wine than she could get through the black market in the camp. Especially considering the quality didn’t match the payment of one of her undergarments.

“Men,” Peggy Carter grumbled as she took a moment to take a deep breath. And check herself for a moment. She knew that she would have to deal with physical challenges and sacrifices in the field, but her current state of dress was making her wish she had brought a spare uniform.

Her bare feet were cold on the wood floor of the cellar. Her pants, while still around her waist had several major holes in the knees and tattered at the cuffs from the cave in. More worrisome was the small hole in front and back of her crotch, little splotches of cream cotton could be seen, making Peggy’s choice in underwear extremely obvious. But still that wasn’t the worst of it.

Peggy sighed as her chest ached. The white t-shirt had been torn in the tunnel, with the edge of it stopping right above her navel. Any function the shirt had as a bra was gone now, and for Peggy that meant running could be a challenge. She had remembered having to haul ass while starkers to avoid her fifth citation at Camp Leigh. A short captain had helped her get back with her dignity relatively intact, but that was a story for another time.

“OK Margret, you still have some dignity left,” She muttered as she looked at her pack. She had burned through most of the supplies, eating the rations and keeping the intel inside her pants pockets. She knew that the castle was hosting some celebration of the Third Reich’s supreme victory, and that their dear leader would be there. Agent Carter’s orders were to get in, kill the target, and get out. But as Peggy pushed on the door leading to the castle’s storage area, she couldn’t help but notice the many materials for making bombs around her.

“Nitroglycerin, dynamite, timers?” Peggy said as she moved to pick up the materials, her breasts swaying as she turned and moved. Sometimes she wished she had the smaller breasts of those girls who ran the switchboards, but then again, none of them had the perseverance to actually pass the basic training most male soldiers had to go through. Sure she was…bouncier than most, but the hard work had also let the girl ace the working with explosives portion.

“OK, OK,” She muttered as her hands put together several makeshift bombs. Agent Carter soon began placing them on the supports of the castle’s basement. The intel had stated that the castle’s foundations were built here, and that the right detonation would send the castle crumbling into the German countryside.

The makeshift detonator in her hand felt good, all she would have to do would be crawl back, steal a jeep, and blow the whole damn thing up. However, Peggy Carter knew that she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she didn’t actually make sure the fuhrer was dead. So she quietly pressed against the door of the basement and entered the castle propper.

It was weird to be barefoot in such a wonderful place. The fine wood carvings in the walls, art that had been commissioned by the barons that had held on to this castle, even the lights of the chandeliers was a reminder of the opulence that had fueled people to build this place. And here Agent Carter was, with an outfit that would be considered very indecent in 1843, let alone 1943.

“It’s for the mission Peggy, it’s for the mission,” She mumbled as her nipples stiffened from the draftiness of the castle’s construction. Peggy knew she was sensitive there, having to tell Steve that was an area he couldn’t grab onto during their more…intense briefing sessions. They were a reminder that Peggy’s cover was getting flimsier and flimsier and the agent hated to think what would happen if she lost another item.

“They’ll mock you, drag you in front of Col. Philips starkers if you make it out alive. Every nook and cranny photographed in the report to ensure accurate notation is taken. You’ll be a joke, a punchline. But so…free,” Peggy mumbled to herself as she could feel herself getting wet. Peggy Carter was not an exhibitionist, but sometimes a wandering mind would think about herself…in certain situations.

“OK, we need to get to the banquet hall, or at the very least his private quarters which is on the second floor, there should be some stairs or something,” Peggy thought to herself. But before she could find the stairs, the heavy footsteps of German soldiers could be heard from the distance.

“Shit, shit,” Peggy muttered as she realized a confrontation now would end with her riddled with bullets. She looked around for an exit, a hiding place, something to get to safety while she planned her next move. She had already left her pack down below in the basement, so finding something wouldn’t be so hard with less to keep track of.

She turned and looked for anything, Agent Carter’s eyes soon darting to the only bit of silver metal visible in the place. Air conditioning had been built into the castle in 1940, a long and annoying process, but for Peggy Carter it was a godsent as she quickly pried open the grate and began to shimmy throught it. First her head, than her chest, where she could feel the cold metal on her exposed tummy. Another shiver going through her spine. She was almost home free, except for one problem.

CLUNK.

Agent Carter’s trouser’s waistband had caught on the edge of the vent, her large rear shaking in annoyance, a hypnotic sight if anyone passed by.

“No, no, no,” Peggy yelled out as she could hear the footsteps growing closer and closer. She had the gun in her hand but the detonator was still in her pockets. Surely with a few motions she could unhook herself. However with every movement, her pants wedged into her ass, and Peggy meekly whelped with every pull, the fabric nestling deep in between her large cheeks. She was sweating now from all the struggling, ass sore and German soldiers getting closer.

“It’s for Queen and Country Margret, Queen and Country,” Peggy said before taking a deep breath. Her hand pulled the detonator from her trousers’ pocket and placed it in front of her as her hands went to undo the belt of her trousers. There was no time to pull out and then back in, as Peggy undid the belt and unzipped her pants, slowly wriggling out of them in relief as her bunched cream briefs came into view. She breathed a sigh of relief, before continuing to crawl. Her makeshift half-shirt and cream briefs were the only thing she had on.

Peggy looked back at her pants longingly as the footsteps grew louder. There was no time to long for safety as the agent crawled forward, away from the soldiers and her dignity. She had a mission to complete.