“You know, doll, for a soldier in the service of a communist regime, your uniform is actually really sexy.”

Her captive’s response was an angry growl, muffled by the sponge filling her mouth, and Office of Secret Affairs agent Natalia Grant couldn’t help but smile at the noise as she examined herself in the full-length mirror. Such things were a rarity in the Democratic People’s Republic of Karazi, a nation for which it seemed beautiful things were anathema and privation embraced as a point of pride, which suggested that the random officer of the Ministry of Public Order she’d ambushed and tied up for her uniform was better connected then seemed at first glance. The rest of her apartment, an otherwise ordinary residence amongst the ugly, uniform tower blocks that defined Karazian architecture, bore that out; the expensive bottles of perfume, the bowl of fresh fruit, the silk sheets—all either from beyond the borders of the isolationist state or simply beyond the means of any ordinary citizen to possess.

Not to mention the red lacy lingerie clinging to the bound woman’s figure, and Natalia gave her captive a cheeky grin. “Let me guess, having a lover in the Senior Committee has its perks, right?”

“Mmmmpppggghhh, mmmpgggghhh!” the captive protested indignantly into her gag, the blush settling across her pale features betraying the truth. She was a pretty blonde in her early twenties, a Lieutenant in the MPO if her “borrowed” uniform was any indication, tall and lean, her wide blue eyes and full mouth giving her face a sort of doll-like beauty that Natalia found rather attractive. In a land of grey buildings and grey people, she glittered like a jewel, beautiful and precious, and were they not stuck on opposite sides, she was the sort of woman the spy would have eagerly courted. Alas, her presence in Karazi was a matter of duty, not pleasure, and Natalia needed an up-to-date uniform to get inside the Ministry if her mission was to succeed. She’d chosen her at random, just one of the many female staffers at the MPO walking home after a long day spent hunting down dissidents and enemies of the state, her ambush swift and successful. Now the blonde was one uniform short and writhing helplessly on her bed, the ropes at the wrists and ankles locking her in a firm hogtie, while a strip of cloth cleaved her soft pink lips and kept the gag in place. “MMMMPPPPGGGHHH!”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Natalia said, turning back to the mirror to give the uniform a few final adjustments, again marvelling that in a nation forever railing against the indulgences of their decadent neighbours that the day-to-day uniform of its female support staff was so… flattering. The spy now stood clad in a close-fitting white blouse, a black tie, a pair of navy-blue pants that clung to her long legs like a second skin, and a short uniform jacket both tailored tight about the chest and cut high so as to reveal the contours of her perfect bum. A pair of knee-high, wedge-heeled added to the ensemble, and Natalia sucked in a breath as she pulled up the zippers. She and her captive were roughly the same dimensions, yet every moment, she feared the stitching would give way, so tight was the outfit. “God, how do you breathe in this thing?”

“MMMMMPPPPGGGHHH!”

Tucking her long dark hair into a bun, the spy doffed a blue beret, and with that, Natalia Grant was gone. In her place was a beautiful doll in uniform, a loyal servant of the Karazian state, and the agent merely hoped that one she was inside the target building, the flattering nature of her disguise didn’t prove more trouble than it was worth. “You just lie there and relax,” she urged her prisoner. “Trust me when I say you’ll get your uniform back before you know it.”

“MMMPPGGGHHH! MMMMPPPPGGGGHHHH!” The blonde must have realized what Natalia intended, for her struggles reached a fever pitch, ropes creaking in defiance of her efforts. “MMMPPPPGGGGHHHH!”

The smart thing to do would be to kill her, for she was a loose end, and in her line of work, those tended to get snipped. But Natalia could no more harm such a beautiful doll than she could shatter a priceless statue, and so she contented herself with giving the ropes and gag a final check to ensure she’d remain securely bound. “I’ll see you again soon,” she whispered soothingly, patting her captive’s hair before making her way out of the apartment, heels clicking all the way. Let’s just hope this damned uniform works. I really have no interest in seeing the inside of a Karazian gulag…