100.jpg)
[This story is a spoof based loosely on the James Bond movie "Live and Let Die", starring Yaphet Kotto as Kananga and Jane Seymour as Solitaire. It also has sexual content ranging from mild to intense. Reader discretion is advised.]
Chapter one -- London
In the dead of the night, a man in a dark overcoat paused outside a brownstone apartment building. He checked the address, then inserted an odd looking key into the lock of the outer door. A tiny LED lit up as the device tripped the tumblers and opened the lock, and the stranger let himself inside the building.
Up the stairs, where the name on the brass doorplate said "V. Kensington." The stranger smiled. Using his key again, he unlocked the apartment door and slipped inside, his left hand feeling his way along in the dark while his right reached into the inside breast pocket of his overcoat...
Suddenly a hand clamped around his left wrist. The stranger found himself caught in a judo hold, spun around and flung across the room, spilling over a Chesterfield sofa and ending up flat on his back with a high heeled boot planted in the middle of his chest. The lights came on, and he looked up at the sleak, feminine shape standing in triumph over him.
She was a tall and slender woman with long brunette hair and a heart-shaped face with high cheekbones. She was wearing a tight black catsuit which followed every shapely curve like a second skin, so that her supple breasts stood out like small, perfect coneshaped mounds. "Well now," the woman said smugly, sneering down at him, "isn't it a little early in the morning for... BASIL! What are you doing here?"
The haughtiness in Vanessa's expression had vanished instantly as she recognized Basil Exposition, the head of M.O.D. "Oh I'm so sorry!" she gasped, dropping to her knees. "Did I hurt you?"
"Quite alright, Miss Kensington," her boss said as the sexy secret agent helped him up and brushed off his coat. "I should have announced myself. But this simply couldn't wait."
"Is it a mission?" she asked, taking him by the shoulders and steering him towards the kitchen. "Tell me all about it while I make us a spot of breakfast."
"And before I forget," Basil said, as he handed her the small package he had been carrying in his coat pocket, "Q Branch sent this for you."
"Oh, lovely," said Vanessa, as she tore open the box and found inside a wristwatch with a large round dial. She slipped it onto her wrist. "It's a little big for a ladies..."
"Ah, that's because it's more than a simple timepiece," Basil explained prissily. "Turning the dial activates an extremely powerful electromagnet."
But even as he spoke, Vanessa discovered that for herself. Fiddling with the watch, she had accidentally turned it on. Red bars lit up as the magnet pulled at the zipper on the front of her catsuit. Flustered, her hand dropped to her side, and the zipper naturally followed the movement all the way down. Basil smiled as he gazed at the valley of creamy naked skin that was revealed in between Vanessa's two exquisite breasts. It had been evident from the start that she wasn't wearing any underwear, but it was nice to have that suspicion confirmed.
"OH!" the sensuous spy said, blushing as she struggled to pull her zipper back up, only to have it unzip again as soon as she dropped her hand. "Er... the mission, Basil?"
"It's Pains, our man in San Boutique," he replied, as Vanessa reached for the coffee pot only to have it leap across the counter and into her hand. "He's gone missing."
"San Boutique?" said Vanessa, extracting herself with difficulty from the utensil and then ducking hastily as a bread knife came flying at her from the rack next to the sink. "That's in the Caribbean, isn't it?"
"Yes," Basil confirmed, stepping back a little out of the line of fire. "He was investigating some troubling rumours about the ruler of the island, a man named Kananananga."
"Kananananga?," said Vanessa, turning incautiously towards her stainless steel cabinets. The magnet immediately jerked her off her high heels and straight into Basil. Crushed against the cabinet by her supple body, his hands latched onto her curvy, spandex-sheathed hips while she hung there over him, stuck to the cabinet by her wrist. "Sorry about this, Basil," she said, squirming over his body as she struggled to reach the magnet with her other hand. "It will just... be a moment..."
"No hurry," he said calmly, his face all but buried in the sexy agent's lush cleavage. She was on tiptoe, trying to reach her left wrist, which was stuck above her head. Her right leg was rubbing against his torso as she struggled to get purchase, which made her gorgeous round butt wriggle up and down in his hands. "Where was I? Oh yes. Kananananga has been having dealings with an American named Mr. Big One."
"Mr. Big One?" said Vanessa, as she finally got the magnet switched off. "Sounds like the man I want to meet."
Basil nodded. "I thought you would feel that way. We have you booked on the next flight to New York. The American CIA will have a car and a driver waiting for you. And be careful, Miss Kensington. Kananananga seems to know every move we make before we make it. It's almost as if he has a voodoo priestess working for him."
Vanessa scoffed. "We'll see about that."
***
Vanessa arrived at Heathrow airport at 3 a.m. dressed as a conservative businesswoman, wearing a heather gray knee-length skirt and jacket, over a white camisole top. Her hair was pinned up in a chignon, and she was wearing glasses. One of her Q gadgets set off alarms when she tried to pass the metal detector, and she was requested to step across to security. There she discreetly identified herself as a M.O.D. agent, which led somewhat tangentally to an extensive and highly enjoyable strip search in a private room at the hands of an attractive female customs officer, two off-duty stewardesses named Ingrid and Holly, and a Danish tourist being held on suspicion of diamond smuggling. Be that as it may, Vanessa did manage to catch the NEXT plane to New York.
Vanessa Kensington 2: Live and Let Spy
Yayyyy! VK , back on the case!
Can't wait Mr. C. Keep it up!
Can't wait Mr. C. Keep it up!
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
chapter two -- New York City
A dark-skinned Caribbean man wearing an Armani suit was sitting in his office. "Solitary?" he asked, making a steeple with his fingers as he looked across the conference table.
At the other end of the table was a young girl around nineteen years old. She was ash blond, wearing a Sailor Moon costume -- white short-sleeved blouse with wide lapels, a navy blue scarf knotted in front, a pleated miniskirt, and white knee socks. She was sitting with her knees spread wide, her hands gently stroking her smooth inner thighs. The girl reached into a bowl of fortune cookies on the table in front of her and cracked one open. "She comes by air. She brings destruction. She will soon receive a cheerful message. Her lucky numbers are 8, 14, and 475."
The girl then climbed onto the conference table and crawled across to him with a hungry look in her eyes. "Now?" she asked rubbing her breasts against Kananananga's shoulder. "Can we do it now? Please?"
The man irritably pushed her away. "Solitary, you know as well as I do you only have your extraordinary psychic gifts as long as you remain a virgin!"
"Yeah I know, but..." she moaned, her lower lip trembling.
Kananananga turned away from her and picked up the phone. "Take care of her," he said quietly.
***
At the airport in New York, Vanessa found the CIA man waiting to pick her up. He handed her a cell phone. "Welcome to America, Vanessa!" said a man's voice she recognized as senior CIA agent Flix Blighter.
"Thanks, Flix! Anything new from your end?"
"We're staking out Kananananga's office now," he replied. "He doesn't seem to be up to much, as far as we can tell."
"Sit tight! I'll be with you shortly."
Riding in the back seat of the convertible with the wind blowing her hair, the beautiful M.O.D. agent watched the drab buildings go past. Crossing her legs, she opened the package from Q branch to check out the weapons she had at her disposal. Electronic bug detector, check. Shaving cream flamethrower, check. Rotary saw bracelet, check. The final item was a lipstick. This was new. Vanessa twisted the end curiously. It wasn't even her shade...
A dart suddenly shot out the other end and caught her driver in the neck. "Oops!" THEN she remembered! Curare dart lipstick! The car swerved abruptly as the man slumped over.
"Oh my goodness!" Vanessa exclaimed. A pink Thunderbird which had been pacing them to the left suddenly sped away, but there was no time to worry about that. The CIA agent was lolling back against his seat conscious but paralyzed, leaving the car out of control in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge! Vanessa instantly dove over the seat, her supple breasts sliding over the driver's shoulder as she wildly clutched at the steering wheel. KRUNK! The car scraped the parapet of the bridge as she snatched it back into the middle of the roadway just in time.
The driver's face sagged against her left boob, but Vanessa rolled her eyes in exasperation and pushed him off her. Heart thumping, she thrust herself bodily over his inert form, holding the wheel with one hand while her other reached down his leg to try and pull his foot off the accelerator pedal. Just then the car lurched HARD as it came off the bridge. "Ohhhh!" Vanessa cried, bouncing forward into the driver's lap, her classy legs flailing.
The next thing the sexy agent knew, she was face down, glasses askew, level with the driver's knees. Her own bare legs were splayed out behind and above her. Her skirt had ridden forward, the driver's face was pressed into her cleft. Vanessa shivered as she recalled how, after her strip search at Heathrow, she had decided against putting her stockings and panties back on! Even now, she could feel the man's face rubbing her vulnerable naked pussy!
Trying desperately not to think about it, Vanessa clutched at the steering wheel. Unable to see where she was going, the best she could do was try and keep the car level while she pried his foot off the gas pedal. Frantically she tugged, but his shoe was wedged. "Oh please, please!" she whimpered, as the car slewed from one side of the street to the other, caromming off parked cars and tossing her slender form back and forth. Ohhhhhhh and every time ground her slit deeper and deeper into the man's face...
The convertible ran through a carwash and came out the other side full of water and suds, where it slammed into something solid and halted dead. Vanessa was soaking wet and nearly drowned when the driver's side door opened. Two black men in leather jackets grabbed her legs and hauled her out of the car. "Oh thank you so--" she sputtered, but her rescuers seized her arms before she knew what was happening. In seconds, the bewildered girl was disarmed and pushed into the back seat of the pink Thunderbird.
***
Minutes later, the car pulled into an underground parking lot. Helpless in between the two men, Vanessa was hustled into an office waiting room. Behind a smoked glass room divider was an alcove with a small table, where a young ash blond girl wearing a cowgirl costume (sheer pink blouse, fringed leather vest and skirt) was sitting in an armchair playing Old Maid against herself. She looked up eagerly, and the two women's eyes met.
In that brief look, nothing needed to be said. The blond licked her lips, moaning slightly as she pushed back her vest and cupped her breasts through the front of her translucent cowgirl shirt. Vanessa responded by fluttering her eyelashes, leaning back languidly with her butt against the edge of the room divider. "Am I allowed to... draw a card, miss?" she said, doing a slow, sensual, downward dip.
"Solitary," the blond girl moaned. "Go fish..." She quickly stepped out of her panties, turning around and straddling the arm of her chair, rubbing her cleft slowly against it. Vanessa pursed her lips and lifted the hem of her skirt...
Suddenly the doors to the conference room opened and a black man walked in, wearing an Armani suit and what looked like a Count Chocula halloween mask. "Is this the one?" he said gruffly, indicating Vanessa.
"Excuse me," said Vanessa tugging her clothes into some semblance of decorum. "There seems to have been some kind of mistake. My name is--"
Mr. Big One suddenly shoved Vanessa against the wall, pinning her there with his body. Her heart throbbed in between her breasts. She could feel his masculine presence dominating her. The sexual tension that passed between them was electric, and either he really did have a big one or he was carrying a thirteen-inch solid wood truncheon in his pocket! "Names is for tombstones, babe," he said, then turned to a huge bald man with a steel pincer in place of his right hand. "Hee-Hee, take her out and waste her." The bald man grinned.
"Waste her?" repeated Vanessa breathlessly, not up on American slang. "Is that a good thing?"
A dark-skinned Caribbean man wearing an Armani suit was sitting in his office. "Solitary?" he asked, making a steeple with his fingers as he looked across the conference table.
At the other end of the table was a young girl around nineteen years old. She was ash blond, wearing a Sailor Moon costume -- white short-sleeved blouse with wide lapels, a navy blue scarf knotted in front, a pleated miniskirt, and white knee socks. She was sitting with her knees spread wide, her hands gently stroking her smooth inner thighs. The girl reached into a bowl of fortune cookies on the table in front of her and cracked one open. "She comes by air. She brings destruction. She will soon receive a cheerful message. Her lucky numbers are 8, 14, and 475."
The girl then climbed onto the conference table and crawled across to him with a hungry look in her eyes. "Now?" she asked rubbing her breasts against Kananananga's shoulder. "Can we do it now? Please?"
The man irritably pushed her away. "Solitary, you know as well as I do you only have your extraordinary psychic gifts as long as you remain a virgin!"
"Yeah I know, but..." she moaned, her lower lip trembling.
Kananananga turned away from her and picked up the phone. "Take care of her," he said quietly.
***
At the airport in New York, Vanessa found the CIA man waiting to pick her up. He handed her a cell phone. "Welcome to America, Vanessa!" said a man's voice she recognized as senior CIA agent Flix Blighter.
"Thanks, Flix! Anything new from your end?"
"We're staking out Kananananga's office now," he replied. "He doesn't seem to be up to much, as far as we can tell."
"Sit tight! I'll be with you shortly."
Riding in the back seat of the convertible with the wind blowing her hair, the beautiful M.O.D. agent watched the drab buildings go past. Crossing her legs, she opened the package from Q branch to check out the weapons she had at her disposal. Electronic bug detector, check. Shaving cream flamethrower, check. Rotary saw bracelet, check. The final item was a lipstick. This was new. Vanessa twisted the end curiously. It wasn't even her shade...
A dart suddenly shot out the other end and caught her driver in the neck. "Oops!" THEN she remembered! Curare dart lipstick! The car swerved abruptly as the man slumped over.
"Oh my goodness!" Vanessa exclaimed. A pink Thunderbird which had been pacing them to the left suddenly sped away, but there was no time to worry about that. The CIA agent was lolling back against his seat conscious but paralyzed, leaving the car out of control in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge! Vanessa instantly dove over the seat, her supple breasts sliding over the driver's shoulder as she wildly clutched at the steering wheel. KRUNK! The car scraped the parapet of the bridge as she snatched it back into the middle of the roadway just in time.
The driver's face sagged against her left boob, but Vanessa rolled her eyes in exasperation and pushed him off her. Heart thumping, she thrust herself bodily over his inert form, holding the wheel with one hand while her other reached down his leg to try and pull his foot off the accelerator pedal. Just then the car lurched HARD as it came off the bridge. "Ohhhh!" Vanessa cried, bouncing forward into the driver's lap, her classy legs flailing.
The next thing the sexy agent knew, she was face down, glasses askew, level with the driver's knees. Her own bare legs were splayed out behind and above her. Her skirt had ridden forward, the driver's face was pressed into her cleft. Vanessa shivered as she recalled how, after her strip search at Heathrow, she had decided against putting her stockings and panties back on! Even now, she could feel the man's face rubbing her vulnerable naked pussy!
Trying desperately not to think about it, Vanessa clutched at the steering wheel. Unable to see where she was going, the best she could do was try and keep the car level while she pried his foot off the gas pedal. Frantically she tugged, but his shoe was wedged. "Oh please, please!" she whimpered, as the car slewed from one side of the street to the other, caromming off parked cars and tossing her slender form back and forth. Ohhhhhhh and every time ground her slit deeper and deeper into the man's face...
The convertible ran through a carwash and came out the other side full of water and suds, where it slammed into something solid and halted dead. Vanessa was soaking wet and nearly drowned when the driver's side door opened. Two black men in leather jackets grabbed her legs and hauled her out of the car. "Oh thank you so--" she sputtered, but her rescuers seized her arms before she knew what was happening. In seconds, the bewildered girl was disarmed and pushed into the back seat of the pink Thunderbird.
***
Minutes later, the car pulled into an underground parking lot. Helpless in between the two men, Vanessa was hustled into an office waiting room. Behind a smoked glass room divider was an alcove with a small table, where a young ash blond girl wearing a cowgirl costume (sheer pink blouse, fringed leather vest and skirt) was sitting in an armchair playing Old Maid against herself. She looked up eagerly, and the two women's eyes met.
In that brief look, nothing needed to be said. The blond licked her lips, moaning slightly as she pushed back her vest and cupped her breasts through the front of her translucent cowgirl shirt. Vanessa responded by fluttering her eyelashes, leaning back languidly with her butt against the edge of the room divider. "Am I allowed to... draw a card, miss?" she said, doing a slow, sensual, downward dip.
"Solitary," the blond girl moaned. "Go fish..." She quickly stepped out of her panties, turning around and straddling the arm of her chair, rubbing her cleft slowly against it. Vanessa pursed her lips and lifted the hem of her skirt...
Suddenly the doors to the conference room opened and a black man walked in, wearing an Armani suit and what looked like a Count Chocula halloween mask. "Is this the one?" he said gruffly, indicating Vanessa.
"Excuse me," said Vanessa tugging her clothes into some semblance of decorum. "There seems to have been some kind of mistake. My name is--"
Mr. Big One suddenly shoved Vanessa against the wall, pinning her there with his body. Her heart throbbed in between her breasts. She could feel his masculine presence dominating her. The sexual tension that passed between them was electric, and either he really did have a big one or he was carrying a thirteen-inch solid wood truncheon in his pocket! "Names is for tombstones, babe," he said, then turned to a huge bald man with a steel pincer in place of his right hand. "Hee-Hee, take her out and waste her." The bald man grinned.
"Waste her?" repeated Vanessa breathlessly, not up on American slang. "Is that a good thing?"
chapter three -- In the alley
Whatever Vanessa had expected, she was disappointed. The grinning bald man took her outside to an empty lot in between two long tenement buildings. There were garbage cans full of refuse, stacks of bricks, even the gutted shell of an old car. Hee-Hee clicked his steel pincers ominously and waved a pistol held in his good hand, urging the sexy secret agent forward towards a red door with a sign that said "Soul Survivor Restaurant". Whatever awaited her there was probably not going to be fun.
They were passing under a fire escape when Vanessa had a brainstorm. She could use the electromagnet in her wristwatch to pull the ladder down on top of the stupid thug's head! All she had to do was maneuver him into just the right position.
It wasn't hard. Vanessa stopped and leaned wayyyyy over, caressing her long lovely leg and presenting her round, heather clad bottom to the villain as she pretended to adjust her high heel. The black man stopped, gawking at her beautiful booty. Vanessa smiled. He must be standing directly under the ladder! In fact his steel pincer was just about to lift up the back of her skirt when suddenly she swung around, raising her hands as she turned the dial on her wristwatch.
Nothing happened. The burst battery must have run down! Vanessa gave her captor a sheepish grin as he loomed over her, and his steel pincers latched onto the front of her camisole top.
And THEN the magnet kicked in! "OHH!" Vanessa cried, as the magnet seized the bracelet on her other wrist, holding her bound and helpless as though she were in handcuffs. At the same time, her slender body was jerked into the air, drawn to the mass of metal that made up the fire escape frame. Her flimsy camisole ripped and came completely off in Hee-hee's claw, giving the thug an excellent close-up view of her two succulent naked breasts. And a second after that, her wildly flailing foot caught him right in the balls!
Hee Hee doubled over, instinctively clutching his family jewels. Which is not something you want to do when one of your hands is a steel pincer! He let out a slow, agonized groan and keeled over.
Vanessa flailed around helplessly for a moment before she looked down and noticed that the henchmen was incapacitated. She managed to get herself undone and dropped to the ground. "Let that be a lesson to you, laughing boy," the sexy agent said haughtily, clutching her jacket closed over her sweet coconuts. "Mess around with ME, will you?" Smugly she picked up his gun.
"Freeze!" Still another black man in a drab suit and raincoat was standing just a few feet away, holding a .38 special on her. "Hands up!" Vanessa sighed. Was it something about her perfume that attracted guys like this? Raising her hands required letting go of her jacket, and while the new guy was ogling her luscious naked tits (naturally), she belatedly remembered the gun in her hand, and threw it down.
It landed on the brickwork and went off with a BANG! Vanessa jumped, letting out a shrill feminine squeak as the bullet zinged past her ear, ricocheted off the fire escape, the car fender, and finally struck her new assailant in the chest. "Harold... Streaker..." he gasped, clutching the wound with one hand and flicking open his ID with the other, "...CIA..." and fell to the ground.
"Sorry!" Vanessa blurted contritely, dropping to her knees beside him. "Sorry! I'm so sorry! Is there anything I can do?"
Fortunately he had a car nearby. As Vanessa drove the agent to the nearest emergency room, the phone on the dashboard rang. It turned out to be Flix Blighter. "You're really stirring things up, Vanessa," he said. "We just raided Mr. Big One's office. They've flown the coop. All we found was a Count Yorga Halloween mask."
"I thought it looked like Count Chocula."
"Whatever. You realize what this means?"
"Um... our villain is a refugee from a cheesy 70s blaxploitation movie?"
"No, it means Mr. Big One and Kanananga are one and the same! And by an interesting coincidence, Kananananga's private plane just took off, heading for San Boutique."
"Great, Flix! Get me on the next available flight!"
***
Calypso music was playing on the soundtrack as Vanessa's plane landed in San Boutique. The beautiful agent checked into her room, where she did a routine sweep for hidden transmitters and then freshened up a bit, in the process evicting some of the local wildlife trying to sneak into her bathtub with her (honestly you come to almost expect that sort of thing in the Caribbean!). She whiled away the rest of the evening at the bar, sipping a glass of Bolanger's and watching the American tourists hit on the local hookers.
The next morning, she strolled down to the boat docks. Dressed in culottes and a blue and white striped blouse, the sexy spy ignored the various fishermen hawking maps to the "Villain's Secret Stronghold" and picked a boat owned by a scrawny, stuttering native Carib named Quirrel. He turned out rather conveniently to be her contact working for British Intelligence.
"That is Kananananga's Island," he said, as he showed her around the harbor. Vanessa shaded her eyes against the bright sun as she scanned the whitewashed mansion on top of the cliff. She noticed a square wing off to one side, like a tower isolated from the rest, and asked him who lived there.
"That Kananananga's Obeah woman!" Quirrel said. "His Mojo! He never makes a move without asking her what the spirits say! But they say she is one sweet mama jama!"
Vanessa smiled, her mind busy formulating a plan of action. "Quirrel, I'm going to need a few things..."
Whatever Vanessa had expected, she was disappointed. The grinning bald man took her outside to an empty lot in between two long tenement buildings. There were garbage cans full of refuse, stacks of bricks, even the gutted shell of an old car. Hee-Hee clicked his steel pincers ominously and waved a pistol held in his good hand, urging the sexy secret agent forward towards a red door with a sign that said "Soul Survivor Restaurant". Whatever awaited her there was probably not going to be fun.
They were passing under a fire escape when Vanessa had a brainstorm. She could use the electromagnet in her wristwatch to pull the ladder down on top of the stupid thug's head! All she had to do was maneuver him into just the right position.
It wasn't hard. Vanessa stopped and leaned wayyyyy over, caressing her long lovely leg and presenting her round, heather clad bottom to the villain as she pretended to adjust her high heel. The black man stopped, gawking at her beautiful booty. Vanessa smiled. He must be standing directly under the ladder! In fact his steel pincer was just about to lift up the back of her skirt when suddenly she swung around, raising her hands as she turned the dial on her wristwatch.
Nothing happened. The burst battery must have run down! Vanessa gave her captor a sheepish grin as he loomed over her, and his steel pincers latched onto the front of her camisole top.
And THEN the magnet kicked in! "OHH!" Vanessa cried, as the magnet seized the bracelet on her other wrist, holding her bound and helpless as though she were in handcuffs. At the same time, her slender body was jerked into the air, drawn to the mass of metal that made up the fire escape frame. Her flimsy camisole ripped and came completely off in Hee-hee's claw, giving the thug an excellent close-up view of her two succulent naked breasts. And a second after that, her wildly flailing foot caught him right in the balls!
Hee Hee doubled over, instinctively clutching his family jewels. Which is not something you want to do when one of your hands is a steel pincer! He let out a slow, agonized groan and keeled over.
Vanessa flailed around helplessly for a moment before she looked down and noticed that the henchmen was incapacitated. She managed to get herself undone and dropped to the ground. "Let that be a lesson to you, laughing boy," the sexy agent said haughtily, clutching her jacket closed over her sweet coconuts. "Mess around with ME, will you?" Smugly she picked up his gun.
"Freeze!" Still another black man in a drab suit and raincoat was standing just a few feet away, holding a .38 special on her. "Hands up!" Vanessa sighed. Was it something about her perfume that attracted guys like this? Raising her hands required letting go of her jacket, and while the new guy was ogling her luscious naked tits (naturally), she belatedly remembered the gun in her hand, and threw it down.
It landed on the brickwork and went off with a BANG! Vanessa jumped, letting out a shrill feminine squeak as the bullet zinged past her ear, ricocheted off the fire escape, the car fender, and finally struck her new assailant in the chest. "Harold... Streaker..." he gasped, clutching the wound with one hand and flicking open his ID with the other, "...CIA..." and fell to the ground.
"Sorry!" Vanessa blurted contritely, dropping to her knees beside him. "Sorry! I'm so sorry! Is there anything I can do?"
Fortunately he had a car nearby. As Vanessa drove the agent to the nearest emergency room, the phone on the dashboard rang. It turned out to be Flix Blighter. "You're really stirring things up, Vanessa," he said. "We just raided Mr. Big One's office. They've flown the coop. All we found was a Count Yorga Halloween mask."
"I thought it looked like Count Chocula."
"Whatever. You realize what this means?"
"Um... our villain is a refugee from a cheesy 70s blaxploitation movie?"
"No, it means Mr. Big One and Kanananga are one and the same! And by an interesting coincidence, Kananananga's private plane just took off, heading for San Boutique."
"Great, Flix! Get me on the next available flight!"
***
Calypso music was playing on the soundtrack as Vanessa's plane landed in San Boutique. The beautiful agent checked into her room, where she did a routine sweep for hidden transmitters and then freshened up a bit, in the process evicting some of the local wildlife trying to sneak into her bathtub with her (honestly you come to almost expect that sort of thing in the Caribbean!). She whiled away the rest of the evening at the bar, sipping a glass of Bolanger's and watching the American tourists hit on the local hookers.
The next morning, she strolled down to the boat docks. Dressed in culottes and a blue and white striped blouse, the sexy spy ignored the various fishermen hawking maps to the "Villain's Secret Stronghold" and picked a boat owned by a scrawny, stuttering native Carib named Quirrel. He turned out rather conveniently to be her contact working for British Intelligence.
"That is Kananananga's Island," he said, as he showed her around the harbor. Vanessa shaded her eyes against the bright sun as she scanned the whitewashed mansion on top of the cliff. She noticed a square wing off to one side, like a tower isolated from the rest, and asked him who lived there.
"That Kananananga's Obeah woman!" Quirrel said. "His Mojo! He never makes a move without asking her what the spirits say! But they say she is one sweet mama jama!"
Vanessa smiled, her mind busy formulating a plan of action. "Quirrel, I'm going to need a few things..."
Loved the car ride, and what happened to Hee-Hee. Great stuff, keep it coming!
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
chapter four -- San Boutique
Midnight found Vanessa Kensington hovering high over Kananananga's island compound, courtesy of the Q Branch stealth hang glider provided by Quirrel. The sexy spy was dressed in a black spandex catsuit with soft climbing slippers. A weapons harness across her lovely chest contained mini hand grenades, both flash and incendiary. Hanging above her left hip was her Heckler & Koch VP-70 with silencer. On her right was a shark gun, which fired compressed air pellets. Vanessa felt like a one-woman army!
The back side of the island was nothing but cane fields. Vanessa soared silently over the hill and approached the compound. With her bird's eye view, she saw the boat docks, the main house, the garage, several outbuildings. A single sentry was walking along the edge of the wall with his machinegun slung over his shoulder, pointing the wrong way. Now all Vanessa had to do was land, get past this one inept guard, abduct the Obeah woman, and Bob's your uncle!
But gosh this full body suit was hot on a tropical night! Vanessa casually tugged the front zipper down a bit, so that in her prone position the wind could play over her exposed cleavage. She checked again to make sure that both her suit and harness were securely hooked to the frame of the glider. She wouldn't want to fall out!
Suddenly an unexpected updraft struck the hang glider, tilting it nose down. Vanessa gasped in alarm as she felt the weight of her body tug against the straps holding her harness to the frame. The harness held. Unfortunately her suit didn't. Quirrel (who was secretly supplimenting his niggardly M.O.D. stipend by putting away a little money on the side) had sold her Kevlar-reinforced Q branch catsuit and instead given her a cheap substitute he had bought at a yard sale. The seams at her sleeves and legs ripped under the strain, letting her smooth, alabaster body slip right out the front!
***
Solitary was in her tower room, getting ready for bed. The beautiful blond girl was clad in a white nightgown so sheer it was practically transparent. The smooth curves of her nubile body were visible in almost every delicious detail as she threw open the French doors to her balcony. She closed her eyes, letting the sea breeze play with her, teasing the hard nipples of her breasts and wafting between her legs. Leaving the doors open, she turned to her bed, got down on her knees and clasped her hands as she said her prayers.
Suddenly there was a feminine cry from overhead. Something struck the roof, rolled across the tiles toward the balcony and landed on the chaise lounge with a muffled yelp. Solitary half rose to her feet. It was that British agent! And she was stark naked! Solitary started towards the balcony, then dropped again to her knees and whispered fervently, "Oh thank you! Thank you!"
Vanessa got awkwardly to her feet, clutching one of the pillows from the lounge chair primly in front of her naked snatch. She whimpered as the realization dawned that her unfortunate mishap had delivered her right into the villain's lair without a stitch of clothing on, let alone any of her weapons and devices!
Solitary spread her arms theatrically. "Miss Kensington, this is an outrage!" she said. "What do you mean, bursting into my private chambers? Your presence here is sacrilege!"
Vanessa edged into the room, reminding herself that this was an inexperienced young girl, a virgin. She would have to be handled delicately, with tact and consideration...
Two seconds later, Solitary had unfastened her nightgown, allowing it to fall to the floor in a whisper of sheer nylon. Stepping out of it, she rushed forward, her full lips latching onto Vanessa's. She felt the pillow whisked out of her hands, felt their naked bodies touch as the blond girl pressed close to her, her lips caressing her face. "I am a Priestess of the Ancient Secrets of Voodoo..."
"Oh really?" Vanessa heard herself say, as Solitary's hands softly cupped the curve of her breasts, making her nipples tighten. "Orthodox or Reform? I'm Church of England myself... well, nominally," she amended nervously as the girl's tongue slid along her slim, swanlike neck, giving her goosebumps. "Hhhhaven't darkened a church door in quite a bit... all this rushing about... saving the world..."
Solitary's voice was a whisper, while her tender kisses moved downward. "I am forbidden from having contact of a carnal nature with strangers..."
"Hhhhhow fortunate, then," Vanessa stammered, "that we've already met!" She felt her heartbeat thudding between her breasts as Solitary's soft nubbins rubbed against her unprotected B-cups. She wanted to step back, but her legs quivered, unable to move. Her hands reached out to stroke the gentle swell of the blond girl's smooth body. Solitary sat back on her bed and spread her legs wide apart. Vanessa dropped helplessly to her knees, powerless to take her eyes away from the white fullness of her creamy thighs, or the smooth pinkness of the shaven slit in between her legs.
"Lesson number one," Solitary said, reaching under her pillow and bringing out a hard rubber phallus. "Which hole do you want it in, my dear?"
***
Kananananga was having an early breakfast when two of his guards came in, carrying the remains of a strange aircraft they had shot down during the night. Mounted in the framework was a black catsuit, complete with weapons belt. "A decoy!" the villain pronounced, "cleverly designed to misdirect our attention while Miss Kensington strikes somewhere else entirely! Ohhh she is such a worthy opponent! Put everyone on alert! Double the guards around the laboratory and the grotto!"
Midnight found Vanessa Kensington hovering high over Kananananga's island compound, courtesy of the Q Branch stealth hang glider provided by Quirrel. The sexy spy was dressed in a black spandex catsuit with soft climbing slippers. A weapons harness across her lovely chest contained mini hand grenades, both flash and incendiary. Hanging above her left hip was her Heckler & Koch VP-70 with silencer. On her right was a shark gun, which fired compressed air pellets. Vanessa felt like a one-woman army!
The back side of the island was nothing but cane fields. Vanessa soared silently over the hill and approached the compound. With her bird's eye view, she saw the boat docks, the main house, the garage, several outbuildings. A single sentry was walking along the edge of the wall with his machinegun slung over his shoulder, pointing the wrong way. Now all Vanessa had to do was land, get past this one inept guard, abduct the Obeah woman, and Bob's your uncle!
But gosh this full body suit was hot on a tropical night! Vanessa casually tugged the front zipper down a bit, so that in her prone position the wind could play over her exposed cleavage. She checked again to make sure that both her suit and harness were securely hooked to the frame of the glider. She wouldn't want to fall out!
Suddenly an unexpected updraft struck the hang glider, tilting it nose down. Vanessa gasped in alarm as she felt the weight of her body tug against the straps holding her harness to the frame. The harness held. Unfortunately her suit didn't. Quirrel (who was secretly supplimenting his niggardly M.O.D. stipend by putting away a little money on the side) had sold her Kevlar-reinforced Q branch catsuit and instead given her a cheap substitute he had bought at a yard sale. The seams at her sleeves and legs ripped under the strain, letting her smooth, alabaster body slip right out the front!
***
Solitary was in her tower room, getting ready for bed. The beautiful blond girl was clad in a white nightgown so sheer it was practically transparent. The smooth curves of her nubile body were visible in almost every delicious detail as she threw open the French doors to her balcony. She closed her eyes, letting the sea breeze play with her, teasing the hard nipples of her breasts and wafting between her legs. Leaving the doors open, she turned to her bed, got down on her knees and clasped her hands as she said her prayers.
Suddenly there was a feminine cry from overhead. Something struck the roof, rolled across the tiles toward the balcony and landed on the chaise lounge with a muffled yelp. Solitary half rose to her feet. It was that British agent! And she was stark naked! Solitary started towards the balcony, then dropped again to her knees and whispered fervently, "Oh thank you! Thank you!"
Vanessa got awkwardly to her feet, clutching one of the pillows from the lounge chair primly in front of her naked snatch. She whimpered as the realization dawned that her unfortunate mishap had delivered her right into the villain's lair without a stitch of clothing on, let alone any of her weapons and devices!
Solitary spread her arms theatrically. "Miss Kensington, this is an outrage!" she said. "What do you mean, bursting into my private chambers? Your presence here is sacrilege!"
Vanessa edged into the room, reminding herself that this was an inexperienced young girl, a virgin. She would have to be handled delicately, with tact and consideration...
Two seconds later, Solitary had unfastened her nightgown, allowing it to fall to the floor in a whisper of sheer nylon. Stepping out of it, she rushed forward, her full lips latching onto Vanessa's. She felt the pillow whisked out of her hands, felt their naked bodies touch as the blond girl pressed close to her, her lips caressing her face. "I am a Priestess of the Ancient Secrets of Voodoo..."
"Oh really?" Vanessa heard herself say, as Solitary's hands softly cupped the curve of her breasts, making her nipples tighten. "Orthodox or Reform? I'm Church of England myself... well, nominally," she amended nervously as the girl's tongue slid along her slim, swanlike neck, giving her goosebumps. "Hhhhaven't darkened a church door in quite a bit... all this rushing about... saving the world..."
Solitary's voice was a whisper, while her tender kisses moved downward. "I am forbidden from having contact of a carnal nature with strangers..."
"Hhhhhow fortunate, then," Vanessa stammered, "that we've already met!" She felt her heartbeat thudding between her breasts as Solitary's soft nubbins rubbed against her unprotected B-cups. She wanted to step back, but her legs quivered, unable to move. Her hands reached out to stroke the gentle swell of the blond girl's smooth body. Solitary sat back on her bed and spread her legs wide apart. Vanessa dropped helplessly to her knees, powerless to take her eyes away from the white fullness of her creamy thighs, or the smooth pinkness of the shaven slit in between her legs.
"Lesson number one," Solitary said, reaching under her pillow and bringing out a hard rubber phallus. "Which hole do you want it in, my dear?"
***
Kananananga was having an early breakfast when two of his guards came in, carrying the remains of a strange aircraft they had shot down during the night. Mounted in the framework was a black catsuit, complete with weapons belt. "A decoy!" the villain pronounced, "cleverly designed to misdirect our attention while Miss Kensington strikes somewhere else entirely! Ohhh she is such a worthy opponent! Put everyone on alert! Double the guards around the laboratory and the grotto!"
Love the way you've written Solitary as a character, cracking stuff!
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
chapter five -- The bus
"Lesson number fourteen," Vanessa winced, walking a little stiffly after her long night. "Proper lubrication is essential."
The two women had dressed and slipped out the back exit of the house just before dawn. Vanessa was wearing knee high silver boots and a tight silver minidress, it being the sturdiest looking outfit in Solitary's entire waredrobe. The poor girl didn't seem to have anything to wear but diaphanous, revealing costumes. Most of her panties had holes in the crotches. "Let me guess," she said. "You're not really a virgin, are you?"
Solitary was wearing a harem girl costume made up chiefly of a red vest and crotchless panties, covered by a bra and a skirt made up of knotted silk scarves. [think Jane Seymour in "Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger"] "In the technical sense, yes," she replied. "Kananananga won't let any other man near me. So I have had to become quite expert at pleasuring myself."
"And your so-called psychic powers?"
"THAT I've been faking for years. Well, it's a cushy job, isn't it? And just to be CLOSE to Mr. Kananananga makes a girl weak in the knees!"
Vanessa recalled her brief meeting with him in New York, disguised as Mr. Big One. "I'm sure I wouldn't know about that," she said stiffly.
"Oh come on!" Solitary moaned. "Surely you felt how big his tallywacker was when he pressed you against the wall in Mr. Big One's office!"
The sexy spy closed her eyes as the mere memory of his stiff Gargantuan trouser snake made her feel a little faint. But she got hold of herself. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," she insisted with her pert little nose haughtily in the air.
On the other side of the hill lay acre upon acre of cane fields. As they drew closer, however, they discovered that it was actually a huge camouflage netting. "Aha!" Vanessa thought. "Now we finally learn Kananananga's secret!" Underneath the netting were endless rows of broad-leafed plants with fleshy stems. Vanessa had never seen anything like them. A bit disappointed, she was still certain that this was the key to the entire plot. All she had to do now was survive to report this.
And just then, as if to make her point, a helicopter buzzed overhead, strafing them with bullets! "Come on!" Vanessa shouted, grabbing Solitary's hand and running.
***
The two women came out from under the net a mile or two further south. Running through the forest, they came out in a tiny village, little more than a few houses. It was still miles to the boat docks. They would need transportation. Unfortunately the only vehicle that didn't have someone actually sitting in it was an elderly double decker bus. After Vanessa had spent fifteen minutes trying unsuccessfully to hotwire it, Solitary found the keys under the sun visor, and off they went.
Three men on the other side of the town square grinned, radioed in their position, and started their motorbikes.
"We've been spotted!" shouted Vanessa, her boobs jiggling against the bodice of her skimpy silver minidress as she wrestled with the big steering wheel. "Get down, Solitary! They're going to try to force us off the road!" The blond girl did as she was told, dropping to her knees even while she thought, "They're on motorbikes. We're in a double decker bus. And THEY are going to force US off the road?"
Vanessa had just realized that she had been driving in the left hand lane all this time. Remembering that she was in the Americas, she hauled the steering wheel to the right. The bus swerved, just in time to cut off one of the motorbikes which had been about to pass, sending it spinning off into a river.
Solitary had made her way to the rear of the bus, and was doing her bit. That is, she was undoing the scarves that made up her costume one by one and tossing them out the window. The first six went flying off uselessly in the slipstream, but the seventh one landed squarely in the face of one of their pursuers, obscuring his vision long enough for him to ram into a lemon tree. "Vanessa!" she called, reduced to nothing but her vest and crotchless panties. "I've run out of scarves! Now what do I do?"
"Don't panic! I've got it under control!" Vanessa shouted, her lissome body bouncing and bucking in her seat as she struggled to keep the bus level on the pitted dirt road. She had just remembered that San Monique had originally been settled by the British, so they did actually drive on the left. So she hauled the wheel back to the left, just in time to ram the third bike, trying to slip past on that side. It tumbled end over end and crashed.
By this time, two sedans had joined the chase. Vanessa spun the wheel hard over, trying to remember which way the boat docks were. She was far too preoccupied to pay attention to paltry details like road signs, so she was taken aback when Solitary tapped her frantically on the shoulder and said, "Vanessa? What does it mean, Low Bridge?"
The ace secret agent froze. "Where did it say Low Bridge?"
The two women looked out the windscreen with horror at the railroad bridge which crossed the road not twenty yards ahead, leaving barely eight feet of clearance. Then up at their double decker bus which was easily twice that tall! And then back at the two sedans full of Kananananga's thugs racing up behind them. Then at each other. "Is it all right to panic now?" Solitary whimpered.
The girls screamed and threw their arms around one another. With her life flashing before her eyes, the sexy Brit couldn't help rubbing her face in the blond girl's nubile bare bosom, her hand reaching into her crotchless panties to caress her moist, tender slit. Struggling to find a comfortable position on the driver's seat, Vanessa hardly noticed her silver high heeled boot stamping on the accelerator and getting stuck there.
The old engine wheezed, coughed once, and sputtered into a faster speed. The omnibus surged forward straight into the underpass. Solitary threw herself at Vanessa with wild abandon as the bus slammed into the brickwork with a CRASH!
Fortunately, decades of salt corrosion had done their work. The entire superstructure folded up and was left behind like an empty shell. From the other end of the tunnel emerged the engine and the bare chassis, with Vanessa and Solitary still locked together in the throes of passion on the driver's seat.
Seconds later, the engine ran out of gas and expired with a death rattle. The bus bumped to a stop still a mile or more from the boat dock where Quirrel was waiting. Vanessa and Solitary didn't come up for air until a few minutes later, to find themselves surrounded by Kananananga's thugs, watching them and drooling.
"Lesson number fourteen," Vanessa winced, walking a little stiffly after her long night. "Proper lubrication is essential."
The two women had dressed and slipped out the back exit of the house just before dawn. Vanessa was wearing knee high silver boots and a tight silver minidress, it being the sturdiest looking outfit in Solitary's entire waredrobe. The poor girl didn't seem to have anything to wear but diaphanous, revealing costumes. Most of her panties had holes in the crotches. "Let me guess," she said. "You're not really a virgin, are you?"
Solitary was wearing a harem girl costume made up chiefly of a red vest and crotchless panties, covered by a bra and a skirt made up of knotted silk scarves. [think Jane Seymour in "Sinbad and the Eye of the Tiger"] "In the technical sense, yes," she replied. "Kananananga won't let any other man near me. So I have had to become quite expert at pleasuring myself."
"And your so-called psychic powers?"
"THAT I've been faking for years. Well, it's a cushy job, isn't it? And just to be CLOSE to Mr. Kananananga makes a girl weak in the knees!"
Vanessa recalled her brief meeting with him in New York, disguised as Mr. Big One. "I'm sure I wouldn't know about that," she said stiffly.
"Oh come on!" Solitary moaned. "Surely you felt how big his tallywacker was when he pressed you against the wall in Mr. Big One's office!"
The sexy spy closed her eyes as the mere memory of his stiff Gargantuan trouser snake made her feel a little faint. But she got hold of herself. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about," she insisted with her pert little nose haughtily in the air.
On the other side of the hill lay acre upon acre of cane fields. As they drew closer, however, they discovered that it was actually a huge camouflage netting. "Aha!" Vanessa thought. "Now we finally learn Kananananga's secret!" Underneath the netting were endless rows of broad-leafed plants with fleshy stems. Vanessa had never seen anything like them. A bit disappointed, she was still certain that this was the key to the entire plot. All she had to do now was survive to report this.
And just then, as if to make her point, a helicopter buzzed overhead, strafing them with bullets! "Come on!" Vanessa shouted, grabbing Solitary's hand and running.
***
The two women came out from under the net a mile or two further south. Running through the forest, they came out in a tiny village, little more than a few houses. It was still miles to the boat docks. They would need transportation. Unfortunately the only vehicle that didn't have someone actually sitting in it was an elderly double decker bus. After Vanessa had spent fifteen minutes trying unsuccessfully to hotwire it, Solitary found the keys under the sun visor, and off they went.
Three men on the other side of the town square grinned, radioed in their position, and started their motorbikes.
"We've been spotted!" shouted Vanessa, her boobs jiggling against the bodice of her skimpy silver minidress as she wrestled with the big steering wheel. "Get down, Solitary! They're going to try to force us off the road!" The blond girl did as she was told, dropping to her knees even while she thought, "They're on motorbikes. We're in a double decker bus. And THEY are going to force US off the road?"
Vanessa had just realized that she had been driving in the left hand lane all this time. Remembering that she was in the Americas, she hauled the steering wheel to the right. The bus swerved, just in time to cut off one of the motorbikes which had been about to pass, sending it spinning off into a river.
Solitary had made her way to the rear of the bus, and was doing her bit. That is, she was undoing the scarves that made up her costume one by one and tossing them out the window. The first six went flying off uselessly in the slipstream, but the seventh one landed squarely in the face of one of their pursuers, obscuring his vision long enough for him to ram into a lemon tree. "Vanessa!" she called, reduced to nothing but her vest and crotchless panties. "I've run out of scarves! Now what do I do?"
"Don't panic! I've got it under control!" Vanessa shouted, her lissome body bouncing and bucking in her seat as she struggled to keep the bus level on the pitted dirt road. She had just remembered that San Monique had originally been settled by the British, so they did actually drive on the left. So she hauled the wheel back to the left, just in time to ram the third bike, trying to slip past on that side. It tumbled end over end and crashed.
By this time, two sedans had joined the chase. Vanessa spun the wheel hard over, trying to remember which way the boat docks were. She was far too preoccupied to pay attention to paltry details like road signs, so she was taken aback when Solitary tapped her frantically on the shoulder and said, "Vanessa? What does it mean, Low Bridge?"
The ace secret agent froze. "Where did it say Low Bridge?"
The two women looked out the windscreen with horror at the railroad bridge which crossed the road not twenty yards ahead, leaving barely eight feet of clearance. Then up at their double decker bus which was easily twice that tall! And then back at the two sedans full of Kananananga's thugs racing up behind them. Then at each other. "Is it all right to panic now?" Solitary whimpered.
The girls screamed and threw their arms around one another. With her life flashing before her eyes, the sexy Brit couldn't help rubbing her face in the blond girl's nubile bare bosom, her hand reaching into her crotchless panties to caress her moist, tender slit. Struggling to find a comfortable position on the driver's seat, Vanessa hardly noticed her silver high heeled boot stamping on the accelerator and getting stuck there.
The old engine wheezed, coughed once, and sputtered into a faster speed. The omnibus surged forward straight into the underpass. Solitary threw herself at Vanessa with wild abandon as the bus slammed into the brickwork with a CRASH!
Fortunately, decades of salt corrosion had done their work. The entire superstructure folded up and was left behind like an empty shell. From the other end of the tunnel emerged the engine and the bare chassis, with Vanessa and Solitary still locked together in the throes of passion on the driver's seat.
Seconds later, the engine ran out of gas and expired with a death rattle. The bus bumped to a stop still a mile or more from the boat dock where Quirrel was waiting. Vanessa and Solitary didn't come up for air until a few minutes later, to find themselves surrounded by Kananananga's thugs, watching them and drooling.
Good fun Centurion, well done.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
chapter six -- The secret underground grotto
"Ah Miss Kensington!" said Kananananga expansively. "Do join us! Have some champagne!"
"Stuff yourself!" the beautiful agent sulked, as two henchmen manhandled her and Solitary into the villain's underground grotto lair. Along one wall were the customary computers and flashing lights. There was also an enormous vat, gently simmering. Against another wall ran a monorail with a passenger car. Kananananga was sitting at a desk. Her catsuit was there, along with her captured weapons, including the shark gun, which he was playing with. Hee-hee, the henchman with the steel pincer arm, was standing behind him.
"I never expected you to be a sore loser," the villain said, as the two thugs handcuffed Solitary and pushed her into a black vinyl sofa. Then they carried Vanessa over and tied her wrists to two upright posts standing about five feet apart. Kananananga waved his hand and the two thugs left them. As they did a tram drove through the grotto, pulling a cart laden with stalks. The driver dumped a load of them into the vat and drove off again.
Something suddenly clicked in Vanessa's mind. "Is that rhubarb?"
"Acres and acres of it!" Kananananga smirked gleefully, setting down the shark gun and walking over to where she was tied up. "Once it's processed into jam, I smuggle it to America, distribute it through my Soul Survivor chain of Restaurants, where I will soon be poised to flood the market and drive all other producers out of the business!"
The sexy British agent stared at him incredulously for a long moment without blinking. "Do you mean to stand there in your spiffy Italian suit and tell me that I've been buffed and waxed, dropped to my death from a hang glider, shot at, almost run over and nearly mashed like a sardine in a can, just so that you can corner the rhubarb market?" She fixed him with the full force of her glare. "I believe that I can venture to say, with absolutely no fear of contradiction, that you are several shillings short of a pound. To put it succinctly, you must be completely bonkers!"
"I'm going out of my mind!" the Caribbean villain shouted. "Do you have any idea how HARD it is... living with that sweet tart Solitary all these years and unable to touch her because she has to remain a virgin to keep her psychic powers!"
"Ah. About that, I believe that I have another spot of bad news..."
"Miss Kensington," Kananananga said stiffly, "let me remind you that while Solitary may be out of bounds, YOU are NOT!" Shrugging off his jacket, he tore open his shirt and wrestled with the belt of his trousers.
Vanessa could guess where this was leading. "I'll have you know that I am a British subject," she said primly. "And Her Majesty's government takes a very dim view of... HOLY SHIT it's ENORMOUS!" Vanessa squealed as Kananananga dropped his trousers as let his one-eyed monster spring up to full height. "What are you planning to DO with that big honking thing?"
The villain loomed in front of her as Hee-hee came up behind her. "Oh no, please don't..." Vanessa begged, as the henchman's steel pincer latched in place on the silver fabric of her minidress, making one long slit down the front. Hanging suspended between the posts by her wrists, there was nothing she could do. The men exposed her shapely naked breasts as they cut the shoulder straps and let the garment fall to the floor. Hee-hee reached down towards the white lace panties she had borrowed from Solitary. SNIP! SNIP! went the pincers. "Nooo," Vanessa groaned, struggling to pull free, but the ropes binding her wrists were far too tight.
Kananananga was pressing against her body from the front now, his hands squeezing her titties, thumbs stroking her hard nipples. His lips were on her mouth, hard and demanding, taking what he wanted. Further down she could feel the knob of his stiff, throbbing johnson touching her smooth silken thighs, rubbing against her and making her vulnerable pink pussy tremble with anticipation. Behind her, she could feel her naked butt press hard against the henchman's body as he held her in place. With her smooth white body sandwiched in between two well-hung black men, her will to resist seemed to just dribble away. Her pretty knees trembled. "Please..." she managed to moan. "Please don't..."
Suddenly Kananananga spread her legs wide and made one swift, HARD thrust upwards that lifted Vanessa bodily off the floor. "OH GOD!" she gasped as his iron hard shaft pushed roughly past the moist petals of her labia and filled her. Then, tantalizingly, he pulled back out, teasing her and arousing her at the same time. "Please," Vanessa begged. "Oh please don't... don't stop!" And then all her senses were filled with his musky masculine scent as he eased himself inside her once again! In and out, in and out, deeper and deeper with each stroke.
The sexy agent threw her head back, closing her eyes with ecstasy. There was no longer any thought of resisting, any thought of fighting, any thought at all but for that exquisite hardness humping and pumping, her long legs wrapping around his waist as she took his entire length. "Unnnnn that's... that's so gooooood!" she sighed. "It's the Kanananangaconda! Yes! Give it to me! YES! Mama Mia please baby please! Give it ALL to me!" Her body quivered with orgasm after orgasm. She was hanging limp in his arms as he pulled out, letting his hot semen squirt her body.
Meanwhile Solitary was sitting on the sofa watching all this enviously. "Hey, what about me?" she pouted, jingling her handcuffs. Suddenly she spotted Vanessa's weapons, left lying in full view on the desk. She made a break for it, snatching up the shark gun just as Kananananga turned around and caught her.
"Now, my dear," he said grinning, "I'm afraid I don't require your services as a psychic any longer." As he stepped towards her, Solitary's finger twitched on the trigger without thinking. The compressed air pellet caught the villain in the stomach, hurling him across the room and into the vat of rhubarb pulp. It then exploded, showering the entire grotto with gallons and gallons of pale, fleshy goop.
"He always did have quite a lot of spunk," Vanessa said dreamily, as the blond girl frantically untied her wrists.
Hee-hee was still trying to get his bearings. "Quick! The monorail!" shouted Solitary as she dragged Vanessa, slipping and sliding in the sticky gunk, towards safety.
***
Four hours later, the girls were safe in New Orleans, each with a new wardrobe courtesy of the CIA. Flix Blighter was at the airport to see them off for England. "I have to hand it to you, Vanessa," he said. "You really blew the lid off of Kananananga's plot! I don't know how you do it!"
"Clean living," the ace British agent replied smugly. "Whenever you boys in the CIA need a hand, don't hesitate to knock me up."
As Solitary and Vanessa embarked, who should be there to take their boarding passes but Ingrid and Holly, the two stewardesses Vanessa had left at Heathrow only a few days ago!
"Vanessa!" Holly gushed. "Fancy meeting you here! Are you off on some hush hush M.O.D. mission, or can you not say?"
"Just finishing one up!" the sexy spy replied. "And my friend and I are looking forward to a relaxing, uneventful flight home!"
"Oh that is too bad!" said Ingrid, frowning. "It so happens the plane is mostly empty. Holly and I, along with the pilot and the steward, were planning a nice, quiet game of strip rummy in the aftermost compartment. If either of you are any good at cards..."
Solitary let out a yelp which drew everyone's attention. "I think you may be able to twist our arms," Vanessa said with a smile.
<<<THE END
"Ah Miss Kensington!" said Kananananga expansively. "Do join us! Have some champagne!"
"Stuff yourself!" the beautiful agent sulked, as two henchmen manhandled her and Solitary into the villain's underground grotto lair. Along one wall were the customary computers and flashing lights. There was also an enormous vat, gently simmering. Against another wall ran a monorail with a passenger car. Kananananga was sitting at a desk. Her catsuit was there, along with her captured weapons, including the shark gun, which he was playing with. Hee-hee, the henchman with the steel pincer arm, was standing behind him.
"I never expected you to be a sore loser," the villain said, as the two thugs handcuffed Solitary and pushed her into a black vinyl sofa. Then they carried Vanessa over and tied her wrists to two upright posts standing about five feet apart. Kananananga waved his hand and the two thugs left them. As they did a tram drove through the grotto, pulling a cart laden with stalks. The driver dumped a load of them into the vat and drove off again.
Something suddenly clicked in Vanessa's mind. "Is that rhubarb?"
"Acres and acres of it!" Kananananga smirked gleefully, setting down the shark gun and walking over to where she was tied up. "Once it's processed into jam, I smuggle it to America, distribute it through my Soul Survivor chain of Restaurants, where I will soon be poised to flood the market and drive all other producers out of the business!"
The sexy British agent stared at him incredulously for a long moment without blinking. "Do you mean to stand there in your spiffy Italian suit and tell me that I've been buffed and waxed, dropped to my death from a hang glider, shot at, almost run over and nearly mashed like a sardine in a can, just so that you can corner the rhubarb market?" She fixed him with the full force of her glare. "I believe that I can venture to say, with absolutely no fear of contradiction, that you are several shillings short of a pound. To put it succinctly, you must be completely bonkers!"
"I'm going out of my mind!" the Caribbean villain shouted. "Do you have any idea how HARD it is... living with that sweet tart Solitary all these years and unable to touch her because she has to remain a virgin to keep her psychic powers!"
"Ah. About that, I believe that I have another spot of bad news..."
"Miss Kensington," Kananananga said stiffly, "let me remind you that while Solitary may be out of bounds, YOU are NOT!" Shrugging off his jacket, he tore open his shirt and wrestled with the belt of his trousers.
Vanessa could guess where this was leading. "I'll have you know that I am a British subject," she said primly. "And Her Majesty's government takes a very dim view of... HOLY SHIT it's ENORMOUS!" Vanessa squealed as Kananananga dropped his trousers as let his one-eyed monster spring up to full height. "What are you planning to DO with that big honking thing?"
The villain loomed in front of her as Hee-hee came up behind her. "Oh no, please don't..." Vanessa begged, as the henchman's steel pincer latched in place on the silver fabric of her minidress, making one long slit down the front. Hanging suspended between the posts by her wrists, there was nothing she could do. The men exposed her shapely naked breasts as they cut the shoulder straps and let the garment fall to the floor. Hee-hee reached down towards the white lace panties she had borrowed from Solitary. SNIP! SNIP! went the pincers. "Nooo," Vanessa groaned, struggling to pull free, but the ropes binding her wrists were far too tight.
Kananananga was pressing against her body from the front now, his hands squeezing her titties, thumbs stroking her hard nipples. His lips were on her mouth, hard and demanding, taking what he wanted. Further down she could feel the knob of his stiff, throbbing johnson touching her smooth silken thighs, rubbing against her and making her vulnerable pink pussy tremble with anticipation. Behind her, she could feel her naked butt press hard against the henchman's body as he held her in place. With her smooth white body sandwiched in between two well-hung black men, her will to resist seemed to just dribble away. Her pretty knees trembled. "Please..." she managed to moan. "Please don't..."
Suddenly Kananananga spread her legs wide and made one swift, HARD thrust upwards that lifted Vanessa bodily off the floor. "OH GOD!" she gasped as his iron hard shaft pushed roughly past the moist petals of her labia and filled her. Then, tantalizingly, he pulled back out, teasing her and arousing her at the same time. "Please," Vanessa begged. "Oh please don't... don't stop!" And then all her senses were filled with his musky masculine scent as he eased himself inside her once again! In and out, in and out, deeper and deeper with each stroke.
The sexy agent threw her head back, closing her eyes with ecstasy. There was no longer any thought of resisting, any thought of fighting, any thought at all but for that exquisite hardness humping and pumping, her long legs wrapping around his waist as she took his entire length. "Unnnnn that's... that's so gooooood!" she sighed. "It's the Kanananangaconda! Yes! Give it to me! YES! Mama Mia please baby please! Give it ALL to me!" Her body quivered with orgasm after orgasm. She was hanging limp in his arms as he pulled out, letting his hot semen squirt her body.
Meanwhile Solitary was sitting on the sofa watching all this enviously. "Hey, what about me?" she pouted, jingling her handcuffs. Suddenly she spotted Vanessa's weapons, left lying in full view on the desk. She made a break for it, snatching up the shark gun just as Kananananga turned around and caught her.
"Now, my dear," he said grinning, "I'm afraid I don't require your services as a psychic any longer." As he stepped towards her, Solitary's finger twitched on the trigger without thinking. The compressed air pellet caught the villain in the stomach, hurling him across the room and into the vat of rhubarb pulp. It then exploded, showering the entire grotto with gallons and gallons of pale, fleshy goop.
"He always did have quite a lot of spunk," Vanessa said dreamily, as the blond girl frantically untied her wrists.
Hee-hee was still trying to get his bearings. "Quick! The monorail!" shouted Solitary as she dragged Vanessa, slipping and sliding in the sticky gunk, towards safety.
***
Four hours later, the girls were safe in New Orleans, each with a new wardrobe courtesy of the CIA. Flix Blighter was at the airport to see them off for England. "I have to hand it to you, Vanessa," he said. "You really blew the lid off of Kananananga's plot! I don't know how you do it!"
"Clean living," the ace British agent replied smugly. "Whenever you boys in the CIA need a hand, don't hesitate to knock me up."
As Solitary and Vanessa embarked, who should be there to take their boarding passes but Ingrid and Holly, the two stewardesses Vanessa had left at Heathrow only a few days ago!
"Vanessa!" Holly gushed. "Fancy meeting you here! Are you off on some hush hush M.O.D. mission, or can you not say?"
"Just finishing one up!" the sexy spy replied. "And my friend and I are looking forward to a relaxing, uneventful flight home!"
"Oh that is too bad!" said Ingrid, frowning. "It so happens the plane is mostly empty. Holly and I, along with the pilot and the steward, were planning a nice, quiet game of strip rummy in the aftermost compartment. If either of you are any good at cards..."
Solitary let out a yelp which drew everyone's attention. "I think you may be able to twist our arms," Vanessa said with a smile.
<<<THE END
Nice job, C, shame its over.
How strange are the ways of the gods ...........and how cruel.
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).
I am here to help one and all enjoy this site, so if you have any questions or feel you are being trolled please contact me (Hit the 'CONTACT' little speech bubble below my Avatar).