Phantom maintained her composure despite her peril. The voice on the laboratory's loudspeaker slowly counted down her remaining moments.

            “Twenty seconds…”

            Her face still kept a modicum of a grin. She had spent years training herself - not just in the arts of enterprise and domination, but also of subtle seduction. Her Mona Lisa smile wasn’t doing her any favors now!

            The executive had been stripped of her equipment and clothing, leaving only her form-fitting magenta catsuit. Vinyl straps held her down against a medical gurney, segmenting her body at her ankles, knees, thighs, waist, breast, and against a collar around her neck.

            It was an absolutely heavenly (or hellish) setup. The perilous pleasure welling up inside her drove her to squirm, and she felt excitement growing within. Phantom tried to arch her back, but only succeeded in driving those snug straps tight against her supple flesh. She could look down, and see her brutally bound curves. Her arms - tied taut at her sides - shook, jiggling the sides of the gurney.

            “Ten seconds…”

            She thought about yelling out a one-liner or taunt - but that would break her veneer of control. Besides, she already knew how this was going to end.

            “Three…”

            Phantom didn’t hear the rest of the count. She shut her eyes as the gurney clicked into position. Imposing machinery hovered over her face, then deployed its shiny payload. A wide ballgag slipped between her lips, forcing her jaw open. Spittle dripped out as she struggled left and right. The gurney creaked and groaned under her voluptuous form, and a leather hood slipped over her face.

            Her mask covered her face quite strictly, leaving only a space for her eyes and minor holes for her nose. Machinery laced and sewed the mask behind her head, tightening it flush against her skull. When she was properly hooded, a wide visor locked over her eyes, kept in place by four more straps above and below her ears.

    Nikita Chaplin shut off the viewscreen. The three amateur spies had seen enough. Not that the image of a woman being bound, hooded, helmeted and hobbled was somehow unnerving to them. No, Nikita realized they were getting bored - especially the olive-skinned Yoko.

    She was the “muscle,” and she spoke the least while saying the most. She leaned  back in her chair with one leg crossed, and her elbows leaning on the desk behind her. She gently tapped the table with her fingers, imitating a drumbeat.

    “I assume you’ve all read the briefing documents?” asked Chaplin.

    Switch and Maya, the two remaining agents, shrugged. “Yeah,” said Switch lazily.

    Chaplin strutted through the briefing room with her hands behind her back. She buttoned and unbuttoned her blazer, trying to suss out these three potential recruits. They had come highly recommended. Director Chaplin was eager to see if there was any meat behind the platitudes. Her agency needed competent spies for high-risk missions, and she wasn’t going to settle for a bunch of amateurs. Amateurs had a habit of ending up squirming on the floor, or tied to chairs, or auctioned off in skimpy outfits. Nikita had had her fair share of amateurs; she’d spent more than enough time doing field work to spot them.

    These three - Yoko, Switch, and Maya - didn’t seem like amateurs. They didn’t seem to have the professional bearing of a proper specialist operative, either.

    “So, you’ve read the briefing…. And?”

    Maya leaned forward in her chair. She squeaked slightly, looked down, and then looked back up. All three of the freelancers were wearing appropriate attire.

    Their one-piece spy outfits hugged their bodies quite tight. Yoko’s generous hips and powerfully-built legs looked quite nice highlighted in a bright pink catsuit. Switch’s seafoam green featured a metal belt studded with capsules and utility items. Maya’s suit was an attractive gold, which matched her bronze skin and long hair quite nicely. It also seemed to be just a bit too small; her bosom strained to stay in the skintight gold.

    Chaplin approved. Outfits like that made it easy to sneak or wriggle free of restraints. She did disapprove of their long hair, though; she herself kept it short and trim. Nikita herself had done plenty of fieldwork, of course. She still had the outfit - a navy blue model - and a photo of her posing on the desk behind her.

    “...and…” continued Maya, “we get it. Find this missing businesswoman.”

    “Correct,” said Chaplin. “Although I don’t remember mentioning her occupation.”

    Switch nodded. “Well, we’re all familiar - at least vaguely - with MirageCorp’s dealings. I use one of their GLOO-guns. I’m a bit surprised to see their CEO sneaking around in purple rubber, but intel isn’t my job. That’s for Maya. Oh, and I already did analysis on the video - it offers no clues for her whereabouts.”

    “So we’ll be looking for Aria, then.”

    Chaplin scratched a few notes on her clipboard. “Good. So you did read the material.”

    “Duh,” said Yoko. She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. Nikita thought she was going to say something, but then she said nothing.

    “All right,” said Director Chaplin. “What’s your plan?”

    Switch tapped something on her wrist. Images appeared on the white wall, flowing from a tiny projector in her suit. Maya explained.

    “Aria Warden appears to be one of the missing exec’s associates.” An image of a dark-haired woman with a shock of red dye in her hair appeared. “People are talking, because Miss Warden came into a lot of money last week - right around when the video was taken. Aria suddenly shows up on the guest list for an expensive gala. A friend in London tells me that she’s spending oodles of cash on luxury couriers - paying top dollar for a Birkin bag, among other purchases.”

    They continued outlining their plan. Chaplin could have interrupted, but there was no point. Either they’d prove themselves as competent spies (and be offered a very lucrative contract)... or they’d probably end up in the same situation as Phantom.

    “I’ve seen enough,” she said. “I won’t bore you with a long speech.” Nikita eyed Yoko. “Just remember that it’s not just your jobs on the line - it’s mine, too. Make me proud.”

     

    ===

     

    Yoko hopped out of the van first. The gala was being held at an ultramodern residence. Bronze-gold trim and old forest wood gave it an old-world feel. The lights were dim; the whole place seemed to be color-corrected.

    The pink-suited spy was ascending a nearby building to give her optimal viewing for the residence. Switch stayed in the van, providing support from afar. Maya passed by bubbling fountains and immaculate stairwells.

    Yoko guided Maya through security, past any gushing onlookers, and eventually to a second-floor balcony where Aria was standing. She cut an attractive figure; a dark red dress with a high neckline gown, tall heels, and lacey sleeves up to her wrists. She made for a very high value target indeed.

    “All right,” said Switch. “Maya, can you hear me?”

    Maya nodded. A tiny earring speaker was transmitting the voices of her two compatriots to her ear with silent subtlety.

    “Good. Now, I’m looking up her info now. We need to figure out what she did with Phantom. Now, we don’t have proof that she’s behind the CEO’s disappearance, but, well… you’ll be fine. Go up to her and start talking. Maybe comment on her dress.”

    Maya took a deep breath.

    “Hello, Miss Warden. That’s a stunning dress you have on.”

    Aria grinned and turned her head. She sipped from a tall flute of champagne. “Thank you very much. I like to think of myself as being brave enough to wear something eye-catching. You look nice as well.”

    Maya blushed. Yoko saw her freeze up and relayed back to Switch, who quickly recovered the situation. “Tell her ‘thank you,’ all right?”

    “Thank you, all right.”

    Yoko sighed.

    Aria grinned and finished her drink. “Have we met? What can I do for you?”

    “Just… starting conversation,” said Maya. “I saw someone interesting.”

    “You know, some people say ‘interesting’ as a curse.”

    “I don’t think so,” replied Maya. “I think that you and I have a lot in common.”

    “Oh?” Aria raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

    “A mutual friend,” said Maya. “A pale-skinned executive. I’m looking for her. I’m interested in what she provides.”

    “Ahhh,” said Aria. She had thin eyes and a cat-like grin. “Well, I’m actually on a sales trip. Perhaps we could meet and discuss MirageCorp’s selection?”

    “Go in for the kill,” said Switch.

    Maya put her drink down as well. She blushed slightly and walked closer to Aria. “Well, Miss Warden… why not demo it tonight?”

     

    ===

     

    Aria shifted again, testing her bonds. They were tight. Maya had bound her what good, and given her far more than she had expected.

    Still wearing her dress, Maya had treated her to a generous offering of snug bondage and private intimacy. Dark black rope contrasted quite nicely against Aria’s red dress. It bit tight against her legs and arms.

    The dark-haired woman had been tied to a chair, with each leg snugly secured to the two chair legs. Rope was bound three times over around her thighs and calves, forcing her heeled feet taut against the wood. Yoko finished binding Aria’s shapely bestockinged leg and patted it twice.

    “Looks secure.”

    Aria agreed by providing a hearty, long “Mnnngngggh.”

    “Yup,” nodded Yoko, “Looks good.”

    Aria, of course, had been hooded up properly. Switch’s prisoner transport hoods were composed of four parts, each of which worked to make sure that Aria was anonymous and totally blocked from the outside world. A layer of heavy and padded leather, properly zipped up and tightened, was joined by a panel-gag (with an internal plug, of course!) and padded blindfold. The cushioning had a habit of pressing tight against the wearer’s closed eyes and lips. It would be utterly impossible to forget one’s situation with all this lovely gear.

    When Maya finally removed the gag, she saw Aria lick her lips. Her lipstick was a bit smudged, but more than anything it seemed that the little bondagette had been enjoying it.

    Still hooded, still bound, and still completely in their control, the hostage spoke first.

    “So. Is this all I have to look forward to? Or do you have anything else?”

    “Pardon me?” asked Maya.

    “Well, you’ve probably got my dossier. You know I don’t at all respond to pain. So, I figure you’ve got some other fun ideas on how to get me to talk.”

    Maya leaned in close. She gingerly put a hand on her hooded ,padded cranium and put her other gloved hand into the captive’s mouth. She gently ran her thumb around Aria’s gums and lips. She suckled gently, puckering and teasing at Maya’s fingers. They both blushed. Yoko rolled her eyes.

    “Can we get to the point?” asked Yoko. “Where’s Phantom?”

    Aria’s smile turned wry. Maya couldn’t see her eyes behind the blindfold, but she imagined they were sparkling with a devilish glee.

    “She’s somewhere nice and safe, where you won’t find her.”

    “We’re going to find her.” It wasn’t a question. “You’re going to help us.” It wasn’t an offer.

    Aria yelped with delight at the audible bzzzz of a magic wand vibrator. Maya could see her flexing her feet and gripping the chair’s arms tight.

    “We researched your file. I know that you’re a sentimental sort. You can be easily convinced. So, there are two options here - and I hope you’ll see them clearly, despite that nice hood. The first is that you talk, and we reward you. The second is that we have to drag you along and that just won’t do. Our van is big enough with this lardass.” Maya nodded at Yoko affecionately.

    Aria sang like her namesake, spouting out information mixed with “ahhs” and “ohhs” that made Maya’s heart soar. Every grope and tease made her moan with a sense of earnest eagerness that couldn’t be beaten. When she finally brought the magic wand between Aria’s legs, she was cooing and singing like a canary. Maya removed the gag, and allowed her to speak between eager squirms.

    “The… oh, my! Mnnff. You… you won’t find Phantom, but… eek! But, uh, check with her company. Go to the MirageCorp branch…. Mmm, the branch building downtown, the back entrance. Find it and, uhh…. Ohhh, and use the coode zed-four-five-one! Ahhh, that’s zeroo-ohh! Four five one…”

    Giggling, Maya replaced the fat plug-gag and laced the panel up tight. She and Yoko high-fived  as they exited the hotel room, leaving Aria to squirm and squeal into a tight gag and tighter bonds. They placed a call for room service, asking that they also bring a camera - in case they found anything unusual in the room - and departed for the van.

     

    ---

     

    Switch came up with the plan, one to be executed in two steps. The first would be straight recon. She had managed to hack access to some of the staff’s calendars, and would pretend to be there for an appointment. Meanwhile, Yoko and Maya would go in the back. If either group ran in to trouble, they’d pull out right away and let the other do the leg-work. Then, they’d come back in full force and with proper equipment in the evening. It was a bit risky, but they were after all just doing some investigation. They didn’t expect to be breaking into data-vaults or zooming past mysterious human trafficking rings.

            Yoko was the first one to fall. She had heard what she thought were muffled grunts coming from a broom closet and broke in to investigate. Despite Maya’s preference for subterfuge, Yoko simply couldn’t stand the thought of a heartless corporation doing such deliciously evil things.

            The grunts were coming from a pair of guards who had decided to engage in some on-the-clock recreation - a woman tied tightly to a chair with her arms strapped behind her back, her legs tied to the chair legs, and her uniform being slowly unzipped. The submissive partner was drooling through her ball-gag, letting spittle run down her chest while her dominant’s fingers played across her bra. For a brief moment, Yoko wondered what would happen if she tried to join in, and cover up her over-eager behavior with a little role-play of her own.

            She didn’t get the chance. An alarm bell blared, set by the guard to alert him in case anyone came to interrupt his ‘lunch break.’ The woman’s eyes flared wide as she tried to shut her legs and close her vulnerable womanhood. Yoko slammed the door and began to run. She had a few seconds on her pursuer as he zipped himself back up, giving her time to adopt a fighting pose. To be certain, Yoko was trained in the martial arts and was by far the best at the group when it came to close-quarters combat. The dark-skinned diva wasn’t troubled by a single security guard, no matter what equipment he carried.

            Yoko wasn’t quite as confident against an entire squad of security. Maya slipped off in the commotion. She turned back to see guards practically piling themselves atop Yoko in an attempt to restrain her. Maya didn’t make it very far either. She’d say that her friend’s sacrifice was in vain, but the aggressive Yoko hadn’t exactly made a heroic last stand - more like gotten in over her head and stood her ground.

            Although she managed to dart away, she made the mistake of popping out her radio  to contact Switch and warn her about the mission’s rapid - very rapid - collapse. Switch had smartly turned off all of her devices as well as any other objects that could be used to track her. Maya had never quite understood all the hubbub about computers or tracking or bouncing a signal off of cell phone towers. She did, on the other hand, understand completely when a trio of armed guards found her crouching behind a wall, hooded her up, taped her arms and legs, and carried her away.

            Switch was blissfully unaware of her peril until she was escorted to her meeting room. To her great surprise and immense distress, she found herself face to face with none other than Aria herself - and she was eager to repay the favors they’d left her earlier.

            . All three spies were dragged to the deep levels of the sub-basement for interrogation and processing. At no point, however, were they ever stripped. Certainly they were strip-searched. Aria was the first to go over their bodies in search of arms, equipment, or gadgets. She spent extra time on Maya’s ginger curves, running her fingers up and down her bound form over and over and over. She’d start at the top, gently hugging her shoulders, before moving to her generous and tightly-packed breasts. Finally she’d stroke her hands down to Maya’s stupendously svelte form and waist before starting the process over again. It was heavenly.

            When it was clear that the three posed no threat, Aria came to personally explain how completely and utterly screwed they were. All three were now helpless, hopeless, and stripped of any and all means of self-directed escape. Aria took especial cruelty in gloating about the fun she’d had while being their prisoner, and explaining that she planned to revisit the same fate on them ten times over. Each spy was treated to a heavy restraint harness, starting with Yoko and ending with Maya. Aria was kind enough to let the two girls see their pink-suited friend get gagged, belted and locked in place before being hooded.

            The detention harness began with a thick, wide collar. It was padded for comfort but of a notable weight. Each spy heard the loud “click” of its metal form around their necks, and could see that a heart-lined keyhole now kept them from freedom. Starting with Yoko - who they surmised was the most dangerous - all three saw their tools gradually taken away. First their hands were fitted with fine leather mitts, then layered over with something quite a bit stretchier. Yoko’s arms were forced behind her back with each mittened hand around her waist. Aria gleefully locked both her slave’s arms into a massive steel sheath. The boxtie binder was metal and essentially indestructible, and it came with  its own wide clasp to hold it against the back of the collar. It had the humiliating effect of forcing the wearer forward.

    It was nothing compared to the metal clasps that ran around her front. It squished and squeezed Yoko’s chest, mating with a pair of metal bands locked around her biceps (which were themselves locked to the sheath!) It made for a pretty evil harness. It had been chosen specifically for its feel, rather than simply its efficacy. After all, mused Aria, feeling one’s body enclosed and compressed beneath the crushing snugness of a harness would be ‘good practice’ for the coming trials - not to mention that the gleeful pinch around Yoko’s breasts reminded her how generous her jiggling body was.

    Maya managed a hearty grin, defiant grin. Aria reciprocated with an earnest kiss on the forehead.

            “Better luck next time, agent. How about a little reward?”

            Maya raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t the massive ball-gag that Aria had slipped between her lips, although it was certainly a joy. Aria leaned down and inspected her waistline utility belt. After a cursory glance, she procured a ceremonially shiny hunk of metal. A few nubs and raised bumps made it clear where the device was going. Maya shook her head ‘no’ for a moment, but Aria insisted - and she got what she wanted. Maya’s legs were spread, and Aria took a few minutes to enjoy the gorgeous gold of her suit. Her sun-dappled skin and long hair made her look like a supermodel. Clearly, Aria mused, she should have chosen her job more carefully.

            The chastity belt seemed like it was made for her suit. It was, after all; all the most popular spy-suits had their own contact points and connection ports. This one in particular was just a bit more devious than the usual aftermarket piece of tech. This belt sat flush, tight against Maya’s womanhood. She felt her slit being teased by irregular nubs and bumps. She felt her legs shifting, her arousal growing, and her thighs grinding together against the pinching, unyielding metal. She looked up to see her companions staring.

            She had plenty of time to muse on their faces. Was it incredulity? Perhaps jealous? Maybe a bit of both. She didn’t have anything else to look at when the hood came down over her face.

 

===

            The trio was carried from the building to a waiting car. It was a bumpy ride, especially for Maya. She was  glad for the hood. The others wouldn’t be able to see her losing her cool, or the way she arched her back in her seat. Already, she knew that her mission was a huge failure - she didn’t need to hear it. She was going to be used and abused, and probably tormented rather severely. She already imagined her interrogator unzipping her suit, revealing her sweating body and fondling her now-bare bust. She drooled into her gag and thrusted again, squirming as her bonds dug tight against her suit and skin.

            Phantom shut off the viewscreen. She crossed her legs, planting them atop Nikita’s desk.

            “Well, Ms. Chaplin, I’m afraid that this does count as a failure. I mean, I’m not sure if this counts against your ‘perfect record,’ but it doesn’t help. Normally you’re such a good judge of character. I’m just surprised that you’d let those three onto the team.”

            Nikita glared. Phantom was ribbing her.

            “Let me rephrase - I’m surprised you let those three apply for the team. MirageCorp only accepts the best… or the most expendable. And I’m afraid these three just didn’t make the cut to be our specialist operatives. No, no, it’s not your fault entirely - on paper they had all the credentials, too. Yoko - the pink one - she’s got a lot of spunk and a decent amount of training. But she needs discipline, I think - maybe a bit more structure. The footage we took showed that she was no good at listening to her peers.”

            Phantom wore a silky top that was fastened with a wide belt. She held up a gloved hand and tapped a button on Nikita’s desk. The viewscreen shifted to a spooky-looking underground room.

            “Two weeks ago, I was captured at the Lost River ‘Blacksite.’ You know that already, since I sent you the video. Of course, I had no difficulty shrugging all all the brainwashing and reprogramming after a few days of indoctrination. Really, they were fairly sloppy. Anyway, after my escape and MirageCorp’s acquisition of the site, I figured we needed to break it in. Yoko seemed like a good choice.”

            The screen shifted again. Yoko stood in front of it, standing in the center of a small, padded cell. Her body was forced into a far more rigid, disciplined pose than she’d ever shown before. The metal bonds that kept her standing up straight certainly helped.

            “As you can see, we’ve improved a bit on that pink suit of hers. Namely, we added quite a bit in the form of tight cable-straps, a boxtie armbinder, and a few dozen nodes for stimulation. I might have also fitted her suit with D-rings and harness points to make sure that her squirming, bucking, and moaning won’t bend her bodycage. By the way, her metal case is quite excessive, but I get the sense that she’s enjoying it. Not that she can agree or disagree, of course. That massive plug-gag works in conjunction with that hood and visor to encourage a different set of skills. Don’t feel too bad for her, though; I think she’ll still be a fine specimen for field work. After a few days of torment, I plan to discuss her career options with her personally. If she doesn’t like my offer, well - she’s already at a training center. A new job could be right round the corner for her.”

            Nikita sighed. She didn’t have much to say in the matter. She was enjoying the biting embrace of Phantom’s detention harness, with all the lovely implications that brought. She tried jiggling her wrists and heard only the clink of metal against metal. It was practically welded in place. What she wouldn’t give for an extra pair of arms right about now…

            “Switch is a real cutie, if you ask me. My main fear is that their tech expert is going to retaliate. I liked her in that lime green outfit too much to send her to the headquarters to join us as a rubber drone, though. I’ve got a nice compromise. Observe, if you will, her upgraded outfit.”

            It wasn’t much of an upgrade. The crotch of the suit was now bare, displaying Switch’s womanhood to the world. The boots were a bit higher than they had been before, and they certainly weren’t any good for running or secret agent work. The chest as well had been removed, allowing her breasts to pop out. Beads of sweat pooled on her body as she walked. Each step sent her jiggling. Phantom giggled.

            “Did you know those utility belts have an electromagnet option? I didn’t, until I gave her a nice pair of cuffs. Anyone who needs to work with Switch can deactivate her metal wrist-cuffs. Anyone who doesn’t can simply enjoy her wrists at her back, or maybe at her sides. Either way is fine by me. Sometimes you don’t want hands in the way, and it’s almost more fun to see her fingers flexing and straining against her waist.”

            Phantom clicked the keybad, and the camera switched to a close-up on Switch’s head. The lime green color of her suit contrasted quite nicely against the dark leather of her hood. “...oh, and we get to hear her grunts, too. That hood is nice and thick, and we’ve integrated some earplugs into it. That one was mostly for fun. You’ve still got access to her mouth and nose, though. I think that her slave-suit is going to be her uniform for quite some time, and some very pleasurable molestation is her immediate future. I just can’t imagine giving her access to a computer. Maybe we’ll take off the hood, but give her some mitts. She’s a work-in-progress.

            “Mmhhg-hhhngh?”

            “Oh,” said Phantom, “Maya. Well, I’m having her moved to another facility. The ‘big room.’

            Nikiti rolled her eyes.

    “Hey! It’s just a multipurpose room I’m renting for the weekend. Can’t you let me have my fun with a fancy, intimidating name?”

    Nikita raised an eyebrow. A tiny bead of drool came from the fat gag between her lips.

    Phantom grinned. “Speaking of fun… I don’t think we ever got around to choosing your fate. After all, you were supposed to find a trio of agents for me, and your vetting process failed.”

    Ms. Chaplin grunted, shifting as Phantom grasped her from behind. “Shall we begin the interrogation? Who do you work for?”

    Nikita rolled her eyes again. “Miss Phantom,” she thought.

    “Mrrff- Frrngh-hgrrtgh.”

    “Wrong answer,” Phantom said with a grin.