The Specialist
By Veronica Divine
The Specialist was in my line of sight.
Natalia broke visual contact abruptly, running for the exterior wall that surrounded this little fort. Her movements were deft, graceful, like a lynx with soviet gymnastics training. She pivoted off a wall using some Parkour move....what do they call it? A tic-tac? I was never any good at that stuff due to the unbalancing and heavy weight of leviathanesque breasts. It was fun to see though! She ran along the top of a wall no thicker than my wrist at blazing speed, rounding a corner to leap across from the wall to a rooftop. She tore across that flat surface with ease, leaping over an even larger divide... almost. This time her fingers caught the edge and she utilized her incredible upper-arm strength to pull herself up, curling her rear into a hand-stand and then rounding off to her feet again. There was just one more gap between her and freedom. She took a moment to tighten the strap which bound the stolen blueprint to her back and then sprinted, her final leap a thing of beauty, her right foot had easy clearance to land on the wall, her left back in an almost 90 degree split.
It was that left ankle which the whip wrapped itself around. She glanced down to see The Specialist again, just fleetingly before her world grew confusing. He tugged down hard, pulling her mid-flight to crash hard on the ground.
Luckily for me, she did not fall unconscious, but she clearly was fighting the urge to slip under, blink-after-blink completely obscuring my vision.
Then she was looking right into the specialist's eerie jade eyes, as was I, through the tiny cameras concealed in her contact lenses.
Phase one of infiltrating his world was complete.
I only hoped Natalia wouldn't end up paying too dearly for my curiosity.
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The Specialist's setup was a little bit different than mine. Natalia cast her head all around to make sure I got a good view of the place. It was darker, for one thing. My interrogation chamber relied on pastel-colored lighting that was bright enough to make sure my captives got a good view of my body while smoothing over anything they might not be as thrilled about, freckles and the like. The other evident thing was that he had a great deal more equipment than I did. My chamber only had a place to hold the prisoners, my observation booth, and a small closet for wardrobe changes if they were called for. I'm a hands-on kinda girl.
The Specialist on the other hand had all manner of toys and tools. Mounted to the wall were weapons, whips like the ones I saw him carry when we'd first met, medieval axes and swords and creepy looking skewers. I was relieved to see that the latter of these had a fine layer of dust on them; he clearly kept them more for psychological impact than actual use. In addition to the weapons were various surgical mayo carts and rolling cabinets. I could only guess what these might be designed to hold.
The Specialist brightened things up a bit by striking a match and lighting various candles set into the wall. After he lit the last one, he gave it a slight tug and a mechanism triggered, a slab rolling out of one of the walls. He pushed and prodded the groggy Natalia into position, seeming to fear no retaliation from her as he placed her arms and legs into short-chained manacles, spread-eagling her against the slab. As she looked over it more closely I could see an elaborate mechanism, set on rails. He could probably put her into any position with this device, ultimately turning it into a bed or upside-down hanging as he saw fit.
Fingering the whip at his belt fondly, he began his questions starting with the obvious.
"What is your eye color?" This was calculated to calibrate his senses to her. By asking simple questions he knew the answer to, he could learn what she sounded like when telling the truth exactly, and likewise gauge her sensibilities when she decided to throw sarcasm at him, as she did now. "My eyes are Puce. Clearly you can see that." She sneered.
The whip flashed out, finely controlled, cracking across her left breast, ripping the chest of her jumpsuit open with a resounding snap. She hissed. "Brown. My eyes are brown." She answered honestly this time. He reached out; soothing the part of her he'd just attacked with a gentle caress.
"Good. And what, pray tell, did you want with the plans to the Seraphim Device?" He cocked his head at the blueprint he'd taken back from her.
"Obviously, someone wanted it." She said. This I knew to be a complete lie; Natalia had only been instructed to steal "something" from the compound to get his attention and infiltrate his interrogation chamber. I was curious to see his methods, and Natalia is quite literally the most stalwart agent of any agency on file, having been both trained and tested in the field to have the tightest lips. I had to shell out to hire her independently as she is not on Control's payroll, and she came at an exorbitant rate since capture and torture is a pretty tall order. I knew she would be giving him some useless pieces... part of keeping secrets was making your captor believe he had gotten what he wanted.
He lashed out with the whip again, this time a diagonal slash from hip to knee, sundering the lower half of her bodysuit. He chided her "I can't believe anyone would want such a simple invention for espionage purposes. The thing is an alternative mosquito repellant method utilizing Electro-Magnetic Pulse technology. Hardly a gold-mine for a private individual, of NO interest to any clandestine agency, and unless charities have gotten into the field of spy craft, I can't imagine anyone paid you any sum of money to acquire it. Now why are you here?"
I could hear her swallow; this was not part of the plan. By accidentally stealing something of little-to-no value she had compromised the red herring we needed to throw him off the scent.
"You know what I think?" He asked, reaching out to strip away the body-suit remnants off of her and slowly stroke one of her lush thighs. "I think you wanted to get caught. I think this is about me."
This time she betrayed nothing.
"Tell me, now. You're not going anywhere and neither am I until the truth is out. And the truth always come out in the end." His voice was soft, sweet even. He seized one of the candles from the wall, waiting patiently for her to answer his demands.
She said nothing and did not move. Smart girl. I knew that he'd be looking for responses of any kind, even sarcastic or mocking ones. Those often betrayed just as much as serious ones. Silence gave people like us nothing.
He tilted the candle, letting crimson wax drip onto her already stiffened nipples, her lush C-cups jiggling as she thrashed in response. Still she said nothing, meeting his handsome face with cold indifference. Pain would never work on her. I knew this from her reputation. She enjoyed it. Got off on it. Loved it. Quickly he stooped to one of the cabinets, opening it and removing an ice cube, running it against her other nipple. Here she shivered and thrashed, still silent, but her face betraying her discomfort. To have one breast get the relieving cool the other needed so badly was brilliantly cruel.
But he did not leave her in agony for long, quickly gliding his head to her iced breast, licking it with his warm tongue as he rubbed the cube over other nipple, deftly plucking the wax. Then, dipping low, he gave her clit a single slow lick. My jaw dropped as she shuddered in orgasm, my view temporarily disrupted as her eyes closed in pleasure.
He was good, and I now understood why. With each and every torment The Specialist inflicted on a victim, he offered a quick and pleasurable remedy, allowing the depths of their suffering to heighten the ecstasy that would be soon to follow. In this sense, he could bring more emotion from his captives in a shorter time. It was, I had to admit, sheer genius and I kicked myself for not thinking of it first; her delta-waves must have been off the charts!
"I can tell you enjoy the pain. Let's try a little something different." He purred, going again to one of his drawers, producing a series of linked chains. He placed the ends of one of these to her stiffened clitoris, firming it into a place, a smoothed clamp of some sort, exerting pressure, but clearly not painfully so. Then he added another two ends to each of her nipples. The fittings were circular, and spiraled inwards, engorging her three buttons out. The last end was attached to a collar, a little gaudy with rhinestones or some other gems, and this he affixed this around her neck. Now she was nipple and clit-clamped as well as leashed. He released her from the table and walked casually ahead of her. She had no choice but to follow the tugging at her breasts, making mincing little steps to keep up with him, her pussy visibly leaking juices as she walked along.
He toured the hallways with her, making sure to avoid going into any doors--It would have been too much for me to hope he would have the foolishness of a cartoon villain and simply expose his whole organization to his captive, but a little part of me had wished for this all the same. What he did do was stop in front of various guards or scientists who he ran across in the facility, using them to get at her through humiliating banter.
"Have you seen my latest acquisition?" He said to the first, lifting the chain a bit so that her tits danced like a pair of puppets.
"Nooo!" The guard whistled his appreciation. "Have you put that thing in her yet?" He laughed, clearly a little embarrassed by his obvious alpha status. "I don't know. Do you think she *deserves* it?" He asked teasingly.
"Well that's what you get to find out, right? I guess I'll know you've reached that point when I hear the screams."
A few moments later he had a similar conversation with a scientist.
"Will you let me run a few tests on her when you're done with her?" The man in the white coat asked.
"Sure. But I'm afraid she'll be walking a little funny by then."
"They always are. Glad my work has nothing to do with gauging pussy-tightness; I'd have nothing to work with when you were done gaping 'em." They both laughed at this.
The ritual was a curious one that I had a feeling he must do with every captive. I could only imagine the psychological impact this would have on someone less stalwart than Natalia. I took a brief chance to consider whether or not this made the man a filthy rapist... but every time I caught a glance at her reflection in some shiny thing or another her ever-flowing wetness told me that he knew what he was doing. There was no woman who would not *want* to fuck this muscled, handsome, and clearly super-hung stud by the time he got around to it.
And it would seem that he was getting around to it now. One last short conversation with a guard outside a door about how she'd be feeling him in her tonsils soon enough and he walked her into a new room.
This was clearly a place of pleasure, not torture. It was a circular room, in the center of which a large circular bed sat, swathed in silken sheets and thick blankets. Pillows with silken cases lined the perimeter. The walls were adorned like the interrogation room... but instead of weapons and implements of intimidation, there were sex toys and mirrors. The ceiling was mirrored as well, and though I couldn't tell for certain, I would bet a whole operations budget that the room would have cameras as well. This was a man who liked to watch himself work.
And who could blame him? Natalia and I both took a short gasping breath as he peeled off his shirt, those rippling, lean abs flexing a little as he tossed his clothes aside, biceps flexing into impressive discs of muscle as he moved. He paused to take her leash and clips off, her nipples and clit now more than fully engorged, throbbing red and sensitive-looking. He smirked looking her over a moment. "Yes." He said coldly. "You'll do."
Slowly he pushed her back, letting the bed buckle her knees, she sat heavily on it.
Then he kissed her. I was shocked by how tender his kiss looked. I had expected him to conquer her mouth with brute force, but instead his lips and tongue were nimble, nibbling on her pouty mouth before pulling her gently to him with his hands on her cheeks.