Headquarters

Back at headquarters, the giant monitor screen in the Ops Room came to life. Someone had flagged a video transmission for immediate viewing. Something that only Director Peter or his deputy Becky could do – and neither of them had.

"Greetings, Director Peter," the vixen he recognized as Mistress Coco appeared on the screen with – blood surged to his manhood – his missing agent Shaun in obvious sexual distress. "I have to thank you for sending me this delicious cock toy! It's been a while since I tamed and corrupted a law enforcement agent; I was afraid I was out of practice! But one wiggle of my tight ass, one sway of my imperious breasts, one touch of my hand on his intimate organ, and he was all mine! Don't you wish you were here in his place, Director? Don't you wish you could suffer all the arousing, erotic, tortures I'm going to put him through? Are you getting hard just thinking about it?"

It took a Herculean effort from Peter to keep his hands by his side. If it weren't for the other agents in the room, he knew he would have had his pants open and his cock well in hand. Damn this evil temptress! He hated that she'd captured his best agent. He hated her for forcing his prick to a maddening hardness. Worst of all, he hated her for being right.

“My girls and I have had the pleasure of getting to know Shaun very intimately for the past month, and we felt the time was right to give you an update,” Coco tutted, now turning to face the broken man. “As we discussed earlier Detective, I understand you have something to declare to your boss," Coco goaded as she activated the nipple stimulators.

Driven mad with lust by the unbearable erotic nipple stimulators and with fresh memories of the past four weeks, Shaun drunkenly declared, "Uhhh.....I am D…Detective Shaun of the Age…Agency.

I have been.......Uuhhhh..... defeated by Mistress Coco.

And I am now....Unngh....her....Uhhh....slav*!.......Unnnnggh!"

And with that devastating admission, the detective succumbed, splattering himself all over the Mistress’ clothes as every intimate detail of his obscene manhood performing its most intimate function became common knowledge across the Agency’s senior staff.

He was not the only one. The provocative scene proved fatal to one of the Section Chiefs, Ryan, who let out a barely perceptible whimper. This did not go unnoticed by the Director, who was experienced enough to tell from his whole body spams and the squeezing together of his legs that he had ejaculated. Peter made a mental note to schedule Ryan a session with Becky and turned to more immediate concerns. "Kill the stream. Assemble a squad; our man needs a rescue. Dismissed."

One minute later, the Director went back to his office, locked the door and turned off the lights. The rest of his day was spent behind his closed door, with orders not to be disturbed. One of the perks of his job was being the boss, so no one questioned him. Which was a good thing because he didn’t want anyone to see him sitting behind his desk with his pants around his ankles and his hands flying up and down his shaft, masturbating while trying desperately not to whimper and moan.

By the time the office shut down and everyone had gone home, Peter had lost the battle with his arousal. Sitting naked on his office chair, drenched in his own sweat and cum, he watched the video depicting his subordinate’s sexual ordeal, hitting replay over and over again.