She Bides Her Time

She closed her eyes to try and focus in on the enforcers’ conversation. The door’s security code was 1138, the same as the code for something else. But what? They were discussing her now. She couldn’t help noticing they lowered their voices or the texture of the cold metal plating beneath her bare feet or the movement of the recirculated air across her erect nipples. The **** were making Fennec’s head fuzzy. The manhandling that brought her down here, the spanking and groping, along with indignity of being bound and exposed in a public restaurant of all places, left her feeling humiliated, helpless, and … excited?

Before she could sort those feelings, the red-hair grabbed a strap on her top and easily lead the docile captive to her interrogation room. It was a small space with suspicious stains on the floor and a lone flickering light. Rolling tables of implements lined the space and in the center was the high-backed metal chair she was being pulled towards.

Fennec instinctively retreated from the ominous sight. Red-Stripe yanked her back and with a ‘rip’ the halter strap tore loose from her dress leaving red staring at a wad of white cloth in her honey brown fingers and letting Fennec fall back, banging into one of the tables with a crash. The beleaguered dress collapsed into a cloud of fabric, heaped around her ankles, leaving the woman in nothing but delicate, string-bikini underwear.

Muscles laughed out loud at her losing her last pretense at dignity. Red-Stripe quipped she didn’t need clothes any more anyway. While her captives were distracted by her bared body, Fennec took the opportunity to run fingers over the tray on the table behind her and sucked up the first thing that felt small enough to secret in her palm.

The big man approached her with a box of five stiff plastic bands. He wrapped the first one around her neck and it locked closed against itself forming a high stiff collar.

How dare they collar her like an animal!

She immediately lashed out with a devastating kick to his groin, or would have if her feet weren’t encircled by her collapsed dress. The clingy fabric robbed her kick of all its speed and power. The big thug dodged the attack and easily caught her ankle, hoisting it up in the air. She hopped on one foot, immobilized.

Of all the scragging luck!

Red-Stripe fished out the last four binders and easily slipped one around each ankle, high and low. She looked down at the last two and mused, “These normally go on your wrists, but since you already have binders we’ll just put them right here,” and wrapped them above each elbow.

Entering a code on the little remote activated the magnacuffs. Her ankles and elbows were sucked together by the magnetic forces, pulling her back into a deep arc. She had **** but to immediately snap to attention and thrust her tits at her leering captors.

Trapped like this, Fennec’s feelings of humiliation, objectification and excitement jumped by an order of magnitude. She pulled ragged breaths through her nose as she was **** to hop over to the ominous chair. Feeling her bare breasts wobble uncontrollably as she went, only drove home her level of exposure. The moment she sat, her collar and ankle cuffs immediately adhered to the chair's heavy metal frame.

The master assassin looked up meekly at the pair looming over her. She could do little more than squirm in her seat and only the briefest of lace panties remained to protect her last secret from their lecherous stares.

Red-Stripe leaned in with a knowing grin, her hot breath tickling Fennec's neck. She quivered as the woman's long fingers brushed her exposed flank.

“Now that you are all tucked in, it's time you answered some questions.”