“Go ahead, Ms. Nox.”
She licked her lips and turned her head.
“Please.”
Katrillia Nox stood in the test-room, lazily swishing her tail and occasionally flicking her feline ears. Otherwise perfectly human, she kept the catty mannerisms to a fault.
“All right.”
Katrillia wheezed a bit, falling to a knee. She pawed furiously at the white catsuit that coated her from neck to toes. The girl visibly tried to tear at it, attempting to break what was obviously a finely-crafted piece of kinkery. When that failed, she ran to the wall, trying to use the rough edges of the testing room, then the corners of the table.
“Very good. That’s enough.” The suit loosened, and she took in a deep gasp of air.
Phantom paused the video, as if awaiting someone to perk up.
“I know who the voice on the video is.”
Phantom turned away from the screen to the rest of the meeting room. Some of her most trusted confidants were gathered, and for once, not a single one of them was squeaking with enforced delight. All of them sat at the long boardroom-style table with pensive expressions.
Natasha Zhukov, Phantom’s chief researcher (when she could be contained) had broken the silence. “His name is-”
“I know who he is,” Phantom said. Her face shifted a bit. She hadn’t meant to cut off her friend in front of everyone else.
“It’s Larry. Doesn’t matter who he is, I guess.” Natasha continued without skipping a beat. “He’s a real piece of work. His textile company has a similar business model to ours, but he’s got no qualms about exploiting people who can’t fight back. Dangerous working conditions, sweatshops; all your classic corporate cruelties without the gumption to do anything interesting with it.”
The room nodded in assent, and Natasha spoke up. “It seemed important, which is why I brought this video to you. He’s testing it on some poor bystander, which is fun, but he’s going to eat into our profits, which is not.” Phantom was listening. She’d heard of this business, but not the new invention.
“The adamantex design is proprietary. Very proprietary. He’s been clamping down on anyone with a similar name, branding, or even chemical formula. Turns out that you can patent a steak.
Phantom resumed the video on mute. “I’m not surprised. Stronger and more resilient, similar to latex or rubber, self-healing and ultra-high tensile… the stuff practically rivals fancy BlueTape. It’s the spidersilk to our thread.” Phantom furrowed her brow at that last statement, scanning the room.
“I value you all too much to send you after this on a clandestine mission, and I hate Larry far too much to send someone there on a legitimate business trip. But if any of you have recommendations for the obvious…”
“Why not Dovah?”
“My seamstress?” Phantom tilted her head back at Natasha.
“She’s fast, agile, physically adept, and she can probably look like a bimbo if we need her to play the innocent card. Plus, she’s worked with Larry’s company in the past. She’s not very talkative, so I don’t think she’ll do a good job of explaining the layout of Larry’s factory to any of our other agents.” Phantom tapped her lips with her index finger. After a few seconds of pacing, she was twiddling her fingers in the air - relaying a message to the seamstress to meet her in twenty minutes. She almost forgot to turn to the rest of her companions. She was already deep in thought when she adjourned the meeting.
----
Dovah sat patiently, running her fingers through her long blonde braid. Fair-skinned and fair-haired, she had grown to accept servitude in Phantom’s labyrinthine lair. The chance to get a bit more sun, an assistant-slave, and more space for her crafting workshop was more than enough to incentivize a dangerous mission. Working for Phantom hadn’t been nearly as bad as she thought… at least she usually got peace and quiet. And when she didn’t, Phantom had always been accommodating to remedy the situation. Sometimes very accommodating.
She looked sublime in her spy-suit. Not just ‘good’ or ‘great.’ Dovah had made it herself, adapting it from the classic MirageCorp design. She’d re-done the seams, made the heels a bit lower, integrated more storage space, and toughened up the elbows and knees. It was still blisteringly tight, and the navy-blue color still screamed fetish fantasy. It still had strategically placed seams that seemed to draw the eye around her chest and hips, after all. The oily substrate it had been coated in gave it a visible shine, but invisible to cameras. It also made her practically un-grabbable by any guards that might decide to get grabby. It all made for a very comfy outfit; she estimated that this mission would take at least a week, and this would be a suitable outfit for about that long.
Speaking of which, she had been waiting for nearly two minutes. Dovah was leaning against the roof access door, kicking around the debris from a smashed security camera. The guard should have opened the roof-access door quite some time ago. Dovah had looked over her gear time and time again; her various gadgets and tools and devices, and of course, the wide collar around her neck. It was polished and padded metal, and had a heart-design etched into the center. The biolocator was giving real-time data to Phantom every second. She knew that Phantom was probably watching her GPS coordinates and life-signs pretty closely. Dovah wondered how Phantom would feel knowing that she was bored.
That vanished when the guard finally opened the door. Dovah slipped inside before he even noticed anyone on the roof.
---
“Go ahead, Ms. Dovah.”
Phantom had been watching those vital signs closely. She’d seen every time Dovah threw a punch or a kick and had tracked her as best she could as the seamstress-come-agent had descended into the factory. When contact had been lost a few hours into the mission, she had sunk into her chair. Although Dovah wasn’t going to talk, she had still lost an extremely valuable asset.
The video playing confirmed her fears. Dovah had been captured, and Larry knew exactly what to do with her. In the three days since her disappearance, Phantom had fretted about whether she should intervene, contact Larry, send in another team… but this video had galvanized her resolve.
Larry was sitting in his office, surrounded by a gaudy mix of brown shelves, gold trim, white decorations (who had marble columns in their office?!) and black furniture. Dovah added a bit of color to the proceedings.
“I said, go ahead!”
Dovah tried her best to remain silent and still, which was exactly what Larry didn’t want. He spent a few seconds opening up a drawer, pressing some switches, and opening a laptop computer. He mashed a few keys on the board and turned back, waiting to see poor Dovah squirm. And squirm she did, for what little freedom was possible.
The seamstress’s body was hidden from view by a very fierce looking sack. It didn’t have the high-tech flair that MirageCorp products were known for, but Dovah was completely trapped - for her, it didn’t matter. Internal sleeves held her arms bound in front of her, mittened hands trapped against her groin. Any toys or plumbing was hidden by its thick, padded exterior.
“As you can see, your poor agent is trapped in an Adamentex™ sleepsack. It’s quite thick, you see; I really had to use a lot of material to get it to stick. Five millimeters doesn’t really allow much in the way of gropage, but it does keep her nice and contained. As you can see, she’s bucking, squirming, and stretching. Her sack lets her do this just enough to tire her out, but never enough to get free. No matter how far she stretches or bucks, it’ll just snap back into place - leaving your so-called secret agent even more tired and within my grasp.”
Larry walked over to put a hand on his sacked up seamstress’s face. “You’ll note that you can’t see much aside from her eyes. I know, it hurt to coat her face; she’s got a pretty little visage. Oh, and long hair, too! Maybe I’ll have her broken so I can show her off, but that’s a long-term strategy. Until then, I’ve filled her mouth with adamantex and some sustenance capsules, then wrapped those lips up very tight. I don’t want her shouting… or speaking ill of her treatment. Besides, I gave her a nice, custom hood that still lets her see.
He wasn’t joking. Another hood had been pulled over her gagged lips, creasing against her face. Phantom could see her bulging cheeks beneath its shiny exterior. A pair of stylized openings for her eyes (complete with faux makeup) let her see how very angry Dovah was. She squirmed vigorously, strapped to a hand-cart with six high-tensile steel cables.
“Now, you’re not getting her back - that’s for sure. But I figure we can come to an agreement so that I don’t spill this or retaliate. You see, Phantom, I don’t need-”
She CEO cut the video off. It was just her and Natasha in the room now.
The busty scientist raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been given ransom videos before. Why does this one have you so riled up?”
Phantom huffed. “I took your suggestion to send her and to buy her off with platitudes and promises. I should have listened to my better judgement and sent someone better-suited to the task.”
Skipping over the pun, Natasha sighed. “Well, what’s done is done. We can still make this right and we can you know what you’re not listening, are you?”
Phantom nodded. “Of course I’m listening. I listen to every word you say. I just don’t obey.”
Natasha laughed. “So, any of my suggestions are going to be…”
“...ignored, that’s right, unless you’re going to suggest that we go over there in person and free Dovah. Oh, and also thrash Larry, and also steal his formula, ruin his business, and maybe key his car.”
“Well, I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise. But I wanted to ask… you mentioned ‘we’?”
Phantom nodded. She was already sending messages, setting up fake meetings, and hiding her activity. Nobody in the company would know what she was up to or know her failure.
“Well, this was your idea. Your responsibility too. Plus, you’re good at disabling traps.”
Natasha blushed. “You mean ‘tripping’ traps so you can see what happens?”
“Exactly,” said Phantom. “What did I say?”
---
Phantom had dressed Natasha appropriately. For Natasha, that meant she was wearing a single-piece spy suit that hugged her form and bulged at the seams. The scientist’s ample curves were magnified threefold by the stretchy fabric she wore. It stood in stark contrast to Phantom’s outfit. It was more utilitarian, but only just. It still proudly displayed Phantom’s proclivity for the animated over the practical. Dark purple and shining silver did not make the stealthiest of colors, but Phantom wasn’t interested in simply being hard to see. She needed to be surprising and disarming. Assuming Larry was the dolt that she knew he was, he and his goons would be just as stunned by an attractive woman wearing the outfit of a stereotypical spy.
All of these excuses together almost obscured the plain fact that Phantom was living out her dear fantasy of sneaking into a rival’s business to perform some very traditional espionage. If she was already rescuing one of her favorite employees and stealing a prototype, she might as well go all the way. Phantom was so eager that Natasha had to subtly remind her not to bring any theme music that the guards might overhear.
With all that said, the early infiltration went off without a hitch. Still possessing the route of entry that Dovah had used, Phantom and her research assistant (who probably had no business at all being here aside from her superior’s whims) had made their way into the underground research wing. Now they were holed up in a glorified broom closet - a small room with some pipes and a number of access hatches that would lead back to the roof.
Phantom sat, flicking through floorplans in her mind. When she used her comlog, the icons and entoptic objects appeared along a long, deep row going farther away from her arm. It gave her the impression of looking deep, of staring mostly in the same place as her eyes changed focus.
Natasha was doing her best to squeeze through an access hatch that had obviously not been designed for hyper-busty women. She was most of the way through, and trying to pull herself through - though her scandalously squished chest didn’t make it easy. After a few seconds, she stopped to take a few shallow breaths.
“Ahem… so, ma’am, a change of plans?” Natasha made a rather squeaky sound as she tried to pull herself up again.
“No,” said Phantom. “I’m just seeing a few more guards than I was expecting. Thermal is telling me that there are four of them just outside the access closet. Which is where we are.”
“Most of us,” Natasha said wryly. “What are you doing?”
Phantom opened the door inward, seeking shelter behind it. Natasha squealed. “What are you doing!? They’ll see me!” They immediately did; all four of them wearing security uniforms, black balaclavas, and brandishing batons.
The pale-skinned woman said nothing as the four guards ran towards Natasha’s poor, squirming form. She was still quite stuck, short on breath, and shamefully aroused by the tight claustrophobic situation. As the guards poured into the room - batons and stun guns drawn - Phantom slammed the door shut. One was trapped outside, banging her head on the suddenly-shut entryway.
The remaining three heard the sound of their co-worker slumping to the ground in a daze. They turned their gaze all at once to Phantom, who now barred their way out. One lunged for her, baton drawn. Phantom let him get within a hair’s breadth away before shifting to the right. The baton slammed against the metal of the door, causing its wielder to drop it and clutch his wrist.
Phantom grabbed the baton and slammed it against another guard’s knee. He fell to the floor clutching at it, and the CEO promptly planted her boot on the small of his back. He stayed down while she knocked out the first guard, still surprised at Phantom’s speed. He was just as surprised the second time when she elbowed him in the stomach and then delivered an open palm to his face.
Natasha grabbed the leg of the last guard. He rammed a stun gun at her chest, only to find it harmlessly discharging against non-conductive, well-insulated outfits, to be sure. Phantom swept his legs with a circular kick before turning to the door. She opened it to see the last guard getting to her feet.
“Tasha, restrain these men.”
She heaved again, managing to get a few more inches out of the access tube. “Yeah. Sure. I’m on it.”
Phantom let the door close behind her, staring at the last guard on the ground. The sound of MCI-made restraint gear deploying was unmistakable as Phantom crouched down in front of her.
“Do you hear that?”
The guard nodded, raising her stun pistol at the executive.
“That’s the sound of three men, still fully conscious, being well and thoroughly rubberized. They’re just woozy enough to let it happen; if I hadn’t beaten them down, they might very well know to wipe away the growing rubber, or to knock a tape buddy out of the air. But no, neither one is going to happen. That whizzing sound is one of them being wrapped up like a beautiful sky-blue mummy, which is how he’ll stay if I decide to keep him. That muffling grunting is the sound of another’s mouth being coated from the inside out, gagging him so hard he’ll practically gag before the shiny rubber works its way under his clothing. If he’s lucky, he’s going to be thrown back to Larry naked and thoroughly shiny. At worst, I’ll find some use for him. The same fate awaits you, unless you can be useful to me now.”
The guard nodded, ripping her electronic security card and raising it at the executive.
Phantom looked down. She realized that she’d practically crawled on top of the guard like a wild animal. Must have been a reflex. Also might have been why the guard seemed to have fainted.
Phantom turned away from the passed-out guard to see if Natasha needed any help. She didn’t - not anymore, at least - and was ready to move on. They shut the door, leaving the squirming trio to their devices.
It was smart that they did, since the hallways of the research lab were absolutely rife with sealed doors and traps. Phantom had been able to break the building’s network security without too much trouble, and she opened doors with the flick of a wrist. Natasha had no trouble hotwiring or mechanically opening doors that didn’t cooperate with the CEO’s magic words. She had a bit more trouble with Phantom’s trap policy - namely, that she was consistently the bait. On the one hand, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but never knowing just what was about to trigger was always a shock. A roller coaster lets you know exactly what’s about to happen, but that didn’t make it any easier when Natasha would abruptly find herself trapped in a vac-wall, or sinking into a disguised floor, or wiggling her legs in the air as robotic arms grabbed at her from above.
She was always promptly released, as it took Phan only one execution of each trap for the CEO to fully understand its patterns and promptly shut it down. All in a day’s work, presumably…
That work came to a close inside a large metal vault. Stainless steel made up its large, polished, and blocky structure. According to the maps, it was one of only a few ways into or out of the top-level research wing - with most of the others going from the executive suites in the topmost (and most secure) levels of the facility.
“So. This is most definitely it?” Phantom tapped her nose as she stared at the door. She was already wirelessly interfacing with the tumblers and locks, but she wouldn’t be able to get in without a keycard. Natasha produced the one given to them by the guard and swiped it.
Natasha nodded. “Correct. This is the location of the Adamantex formula, and presumably, this is where he’ll be showing it off. We shouldn’t have to deal with any traps.”
Phantom nodded as the door began to slide open. “Do one more scan. Make sure there aren’t any traps.”
Natasha nodded and waved her hand through the room, tapping on a keypad just outside the door. “Shouldn’t be anything dangerous. Except for the formula itself.”
Within the vault-room was a single USB thumb drive in a glass case alongside a self-contained beaker of oily, undulating black liquid. The stark, endless white of the vault blended together with tall the shining silver and clear plexiglass, but was of intense contrast to the ebony vial. It practically sucked light in around it. Phantom stepped forward gingerly. She’d never admit it, but Natasha noticed her lick her lips, salivating at the thought of really destroying LarryCorp and maybe trying out some of the unbreakable shiny goodness.
The latter happened instantly. The tiles on which Phantom and Natasha had been standing on exploded in a shower of shining black ichor, which promptly raised them to the ceiling. They were hoisted up in sacks like vegetables into burlap bags, and suddenly strung up from the top of the room! Natasha squirmed and bucked in surprise, and with each struggling motion only dug herself deeper and lower and tighter into the sack. Her face dipped below the mouth of the bag, and it closed above her before tightening. Poor Doctor Zhukov’s catsuited body was now nicely highlighted in a glossy black coating that went from her toes to the top of her hair, pressing her pathetic and surprised face tight against its exterior.
She got out a “grrmpphh!” of surprise, though Phantom managed a few curse words as she was sacked. Two ultra-high-tensile cables attached to the sack’s “shoulders” let the both of them struggle, squirm and ‘bob’ in the air. Natasha’s vac-packed form seemed made for the stretchy sack, while Phantom managed to keep her head free. That was the only part of her mobile, though, with the rest of her body compressed beneath her own suit and the immense tightness of a seemingly-unbreakable sack. She wiggled her legs, trying to swing free, but was unable to build up any momentum. She only succeeded in looking particularly ripe for molestation; a fruit ready to be picked and interrogated.
A few moments later, someone else walked into the room. Phantom couldn’t turn her head to see who it was, and was greatly surprised to see the guard from earlier strutting about with confidence and the slow-walk of someone who was about to get everything they wanted.
Phantom raised an eyebrow, ready to trade verbal repartee. But the guard didn’t speak, instead removing her balaclava and somehow managing to remove her guard’s outfit in a single, breakaway maneuver. It was none other than Dovah, blonde, tall, toned, and wearing a stunning business suit. Phantom’s raised eyebrow turned into a look of genuine shock.
“Dovah?! This betrayal will not go unpunished!”
Dovah shook her head and placed a finger on Phantom’s lips to quiet her. She snapped produced a long, written contract that quickly unfolded onto the floor. Phantom scanned it instantly.
Heretofor, I, Larry, owner of LarryCorp, under no threat whatsoever of bodily harm or intimidation, am hereby signing over the following assets, limited to, but not exhaustively including my company, the formula for Adamantex, all research subjects and proprietary property both voluntary and purchased on a contractual basis…
The woman snapped her fingers, making Phantom look at attention and causing a pathetic figure to enter the room. Larry was heavily hobbled, bound, and totally humiliated. Totally clad in white and pink, he shuffled with the attitude of a truly diminished man. Tall pink shoes, a thick armbinder, a white catsuit, a frilly dress, and a thick gwen hood that gave him a pair of bright pink lips over where his mouth would be gave him an appropriately sissified look. A curly wig shuffled and bobbed in the air as he gingerly stepped into the room, trying not to lose his balance - with his arms snugly bound and legs bound together by a length of short chain, his entry was dramatic but a bit slow. Behind him walked the thoroughly gagged catgirl from the video earlier, now wearing a white-and-pink suit that kept her on all fours and fairly silent. She seemed a bit more eager to be wearing it than the man, though.
“And you have Larry too… how on earth were you able to do all this? This is a success beyond my wildest dreams.”
Dovah nodded to Natasha and pulled the rubber sheet down. Poor Tasha had already been worked into a breathless frenzy, and shook a lock of hair from her face.
“Dovah was the one who told me about the adamantex in the first place, and got that video of her friend Katrilla. We agreed that I’d suggest her, and that she’d go alone.”
Phantom shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why this charade?”
“Well, she wanted more than just to do a good job as your employee. She-”
Dovah furled the sack back up over Natasha’s face, leaving her to squirm and struggle with her face cutely frozen beneath the rubbery sheen. She ran a hand through her braid and produced a fat panel gag - one with the inflatable nozzle replaced with a fountain pen. Phantom raised her eyebrow as it was buckled around her face, but she was starting to put together Dovah’s plan. When the dragonborn seamstress provided another contract, Phantom already had some idea of what was in it.
“I, Phantom, in recognition of my employee Dovah’s fantastic job in acquiring LarryCorp and its holdings, as well as my admission that she is an absolutely awesome employee, hereby deserves and will be provided all of the following:
● A complimentary snack bar that is not deduced from employee payment
● A corner office above ground with a pleasant view
● The option to be ungagged at all times, unless for testing purposes
● Stock options
● Phantom gives all employees the day off on certain notable birthdays, e.g. Emperor Tiber Septim
● A clause providing Dovah with whatever modeling volunteers she needed
Phantom checked the box without hesitation. She grinned beneath the gag, satisfied at her seamstress’s job well done.
Dovah removed the pen from the gag, planted a kiss on Phantom’s head… and pulled the hood up over the CEO’s head, matching Phantom’s grin. She waved her hands, indicating to her entourage that it was time to leave, and pressing a button to call the guards to retrieve Phantom and Natasha. After all, she still had to plan for the big adamantex reveal, and she now had two durable and delightful models for the big reveal.