The work of the day was a routine round — up for the most part until the last stop of the day in a half — brick structure in a fashionable tree lined neighborhood on the edge of River Bend. I had just started my introduction, “Good afternoon, Mrs Parker,” I, accompanied by Cliff and Logan, addressed a statuesque dark brunette, a decade older than most of the college coeds and laid off hospital workers I had arrested, “I’m special agent Tina in charge of a recovery operation. I’m here to enforce the Institute’s indenture on your person to secure debts you contracted.”
Sending the child to get her father, Elise sighed, “I guess I better get ready.”
Descending the staircase, Elise’s husband Peter a builder acknowledged that most of the debt contracted by Mrs Parker had been devoted to his business. I raised my eyebrows. Inspecting Mrs Parker from her expensive heels, fashionable dark skirt and matching jacket with stockings, to her white blouse and cameo pendant, topped by a fresh coiffeur, I surmised Mrs Parker on her own ran up a goodly share of that debt.
“Re-payments failed,” Mr Parker assured me, “because my contract to rehabilitate the Robbins auditorium on the University campus had been put on hold due to intended use until the end of the academic year.” I might have simply listened then took Mrs Parker who was willing to go except that Mr Parker advised me, “Heck passed by Robins auditorium several times, no signs of life at least during the day.” Dismissing my supposition that the theater may be in use at night, Mr Parker snapped back, “No ticket sales, no posters, no lights, no newspaper advertisements, parking lot not used, steps never swept…”
Inviting them into the dining room, I ordered Mrs Parker to strip in front of her husband. Gracefully undressing with rhythmic moves, she jiggled her delicious DDs under her husband’s nose. When I complimented her on her style, she boasted, “Worked my way through college, dancing my way into the admissions office as Dean. Then lost the job when the College outsourced the position.”
I grimaced. Indentured servitude was spreading through the entire economy. It made good sense. Servants were less expensive. No matter, I had no time to muse. I had a job to do: enforce the Institute’s rights.
Hands on hips, breasts thrust out, swaying provocatively, Elise acknowledged she had feelers out to play porn. “If I get the part, I’ll make up the past dues.”
Shown a few pictures of naked men and women I took from Institute files, Elise leaned over the mahogany dining room table, deliberately grazing my hand with her fleshy breast. Stopping at a photo of curly haired LT Bernie, who sprouted a full — blown horizontal erection, Elise declared, “Possible,” Elise, turning to me with a giddy smile, tapped on Bernie’s photo with a manicured fingernail, “This one emits some unique magnetism. People do things for him that they’d never believe themselves capable of.”
“Sounds like,” I caught Cliff’s glance, “what the Institute seeks in a leader.” I posed the question to Elise, “You have met Bernie?”
“The photo gives off vibes,” Elise replied, “these porn kings, they’re all the face of evil, trawling the clubs and meeting rooms, out to take you for every last shred of dignity you have. If you must sacrifice your person you must be paid.”
“Thank you! Now strip your husband,” I commanded. As Elise set about squatting to unbuckle his belt and lower his zipper.
Elise yanked Peter’s pants down. His engorged penis danced in her face. “I can see you’re happy to see me. I’m not sure if I’m authorized to have fun.”
As Cliff went through Pete’s clothing. I received a message from Jenny that the Institute would authorize offering Pete an unconditional Voluntary Indenture. Whisking Pete away to our waiting van, I stopped Elise from reaching for her clothes. “You like what you see,” cooed Elise with a seductive smile.
“Just a small formality,” I drew out the syringe palpated her left breast and injected it with a transponder. “About face hands on your knees,” I commanded as I injected a transponder into her right butt.”
As she dressed, I informed her, “Pete’s action was admirable, but until a favorable appraisal comes through, you are property subject to levy. You have 10 days to report to the Institute. I am issuing you a transportation pass and an authorization to buy food for yourself and children for the next 10 days. If you can’t find someone to take the kids, bring them with you. The Institute will place them.”
“10 days?” Elise shrieked.
“During that time, you have use of your clothing, your car and this house.” Scooping up her jewellery I added, “The Institute will hold your jewellery for safekeeping until your status is finally decided.”
When my capture team returned to the Dungeon with our prisoners, Sergeant Jenny called me into her office. “A long night is ahead of me. I wish I could stay to help you, Tina, excuse me, LT Tina, I must accompany pregnant prisoners in the shipment to The Institute, but nonetheless you are entitled to recognition in a little ceremony. I’m sorry it won’t include the Institute Director.”
A short time ago, I was infuriated when I arrived at this hidden detention center in the college town of River Bend. Wearing the dress uniform, a jacket over a starched blouse and a tight mid-calf skirt that squeaked when I took every step, I had been en route to my promotion ceremony at the Institute when I received notice from Dr Crenshaw’s office of the change in plans. I was deprived of my promotion, recognition by the director and greater allowances and privileges.
I was about to unleash my fury on freckle faced Sergeant Jenny in charge of the Capture Team operating in River Bend. “The cover mission, a roundup of delinquents is routine. Let me introduce you to the real mission in River Bend,”
Jenny drew out of her top desk draw a picture of a full-frontal picture of a six-foot-tall young man, curly black hair coated his naked body. The legend on a placard to the left of his bare left foot read LT BERNIE. “He absconded from the previous team which operated here some months ago. Intelligence we’re gathered reveals Bernie is actively soliciting and recruiting Indenturees to appear in porn skits. He is regarded as a traitor.”
“And my immediate task is rather routine,” I asked Jenny, “rounding up some pregnant girls and recently discharged University employees. How does that interface with capturing the face of evil?”
“Bernie’s main focus is on college girls,” Jenny advised, “but he’s eclectic in his tastes. He looks for pregnant women too, With the wave of layoffs through the college and hospital, Bernie has a fertile recruiting ground.” Jenny smiled at her own double entend.
“Do we have intelligence reports on locations used for filming and recruiting potential starlets?” I asked.
“No,” Jenny admitted, “Bernie’s contacts we know of are random. I have my twin Jane detached working with an informant who was approached by Bernie. Hopefully, we’ll get someone on the inside with Bernie.”
On my return to the dungeon after completing the round up, Jenny, busy with shipping outbound indenturees, was anxious to conclude my promotion ceremony. Jenny apologized with a smile, “Sorry Dr Crenshaw sent regrets. But he did say that he has every confidence in you. You never turned him down on a tough assignment. So, get Cliff and Logan in here…”
My initial contact with Cliff and Logan had not been that promising. In my initial discussions with Jenny, I gulped when I brought Cliff and Logan up. “When I pulled my car into the sunken parking lot out back, I noticed two men in utility uniforms cleaning vans and squad cars.”
Jenny interjected, “That’s Cliff and Logan — That’d be your team.”
“I did suppose those two would be my assets,” When Jenny nodded, I continued, “regrettably not very attentive to me, not very observant of the prisoner in the cage …”
Jenny drew a breath, “Cliff and Logan, they’re green, first assignment.”
“Not very comforting since the cage outside was holding: Mary,” I recalled, “a former martial arts and prisoner control instructor at the Institute. She was a Sergeant, but I couldn’t tell what rank she now holds. She was confined to an exterior holding cell, naked clutching to a blanket. Her barrel shaped pregnant belly peeked out from under the cover. What have I walked in on? If you’ve locked up your most senior agent, exactly what assets do I have available to assist me?”
“Cliff and Logan, whom you encountered as you entered,” Jenny acknowledged, “are only weeks out of demanding physical training at Security School, but they’re in tip — top physical condition. Though inexperienced, they did well on the first round of repos we ran here. Also, I expect to draw some personnel from the Farm outside of town. They’re mostly maintenance personnel, but I can tap them to guard the Hen house and bullpen while you have Cliff and Logan working the round — up.”
“I’m elected,” I declared, “Mama to shepherd testosterone driven inexperienced boys through a probe whose target is someone familiar with our protocols in conducting a mission in this locale. Should I bare my chest and hold Cliff and Logan to my breasts to suckle them. Mary’s bulbous boobs might be more appropriate to the task, except you have Mary locked up.”
“I’ll see if I can put your team to the test and toughen them up in the process,” Jenny promised.
The round — up having been completed, Jenny attended to my promotion ceremony. Moving my promotion ceremony along, once I returned to Jenny with Cliff and Logan in tow, Jenny exclaimed, “Oh I almost forgot, Pull Mary out of the Hen House, where we’re warehousing our pregnant females indenturees. Having pulled the toughest job in the cover exercise, Mary deserves an honored place in this ceremony.”
During my initial meeting with Sergeant Jenny, I fell into silence. I was allowing my temper to cool; Jenny, the cagy old hand, eying me with a half — smile, intended to draw me out. I capitulated. “I suspected that the problem involved a serious situation from the moment I parked my car when I saw Mary stripped naked behind the wire,” I pled, “Why are you holding her?”
“Officially, Mary, as you may or may not know, lost her stripes on the last mission to River Bend,” Jenny leaned forward to advise me as if she feared someone was lurking nearby to overhear us.
I mockingly whispered, “Secrecy and deception, I admit, are necessary tools in any successful mission. Are you afraid that we’re being watched?”
Jenny pointed to the computer screen, behind me, over her door. “I feel his eyes upon me all the time. There is some deadly magic to it.”
“Certainly, a respectable hoscus,” I added turning to face the image projecting an impressive erection almost geometrically parallel to the ground, “Imagine going erect in a promotion photo — before the festivities.”
“Mary was on the last mission in River Bend,” Jenny returned to her explanation, “That’s the mission that LT Bernie defected from. The Institute retained Mary; officially because she agreed to be inseminated. Others on her team weren’t so lucky. They went naked, head shaved to auction. What in Mary’s relationship with LT Bernie would incline the Institute to keep her and jettison others on her team? I’ve been left to guess.” Jenny shook her head. “The Institute wasn’t clear on the reason for assigning Mary to me. Is Mary bait? Is she being tested? Am I?”
“Often the simple solution is the best. Why not ask Mary?” I suggested.
Jenny ordered tall blond Cliff who was in the hallway outside her door to bring Mary in from the holding area.
Complying with Sergeant Jenny’s instructions to obtain Mary to officiate at my promotion ceremony, I was about ready to nod to Cliff to produce Mary when Jenny looking straight at me, decided, “No, Tina, I want you to obtain Mary. At midnight when I depart station, you will give the orders. Until then, the boss, it’s me!”
I went into the large open area where the naked female prisoners were huddled together for warmth on a bench behind cyclone fencing in the Hen House. Nudity was thought essential to chill the willingness to escape and to impress on the indenturee a change of status. “Nurse wants to examine Mary Rutherford,” I told the guard, one of the additional personnel Sergeant Jenny obtained from The Farm, the Institute’s facility outside town.
Wrists secured with a cable tie, Mary squatted and coughed on command. Turned over to me, Mary quipped, “Hmm, nothing popped out — just yet.”
Holding her by her elbow I led her to Jenny’s office. In Jenny’s office, an unbound Mary accepted a blanket over her shoulders as she rendered her report, “A little different from my previous reception in this office.”
In my initial meeting with Sergeant Jenny, in response to my suggestion we pose the logical question to Mary, Jenny ordered Cliff to obtain Mary from the outside holding cell where Mary was held naked, pregnant belly jutting out of the blanket she was provided with to cover herself. When Cliff asked, almost as an afterthought, as he walked away whether he should cuff Mary, “Cuffed — of course,” Jenny screamed at Cliff. “You may recall my previous order to confine her in a cage and have her strip.
Stood on the mirrored tailor’s platform outside Jenny’s office where detainees would be stripped and searched, Mary, with a mischievous smile, looked behind her as Cliff cut away the cable ties from her wrists. Cliff at Jenny’s nod winced when his hands migrated up Mary’s sides to massage her engorged breasts. “Soft and sweet,” Mary swaying gently assured Cliff, as Cliff unbuckled his belt and allowed his dungarees and boxers to drop to his knees freeing a bulging erection, “tender treat, hands so agile, swift of feet, pregnant, but not fragile, broiling body heat.”
Mary had swiftly moved a leg to knock Cliff over. Jenny and I sprung into action. “OK, Mary,” Jenny commanded her, “demonstration is over.”
Righting herself, Mary placed her hands behind her back, ready to be cuffed. Laughing Mary asked, “Sergeant Jenny, is eh –Tina next?” Noticing me next to Jenny, Mary quipped, “One of my pupils from the Security Academy! Tina isn’t it? Are you reassigned here to River Bend to join me in the Hen House?”
I picked Cliff off the floor. Looking at his throbbing erection, I remonstrated with Cliff, “Thinking with the wrong head got you in a fix. An instructor in security school has many tricks, A tough bitch with nurturing instincts few, she’ll drop a litter of sextuplets and still break you in two.”
Jenny rebuked Cliff, “Why do you think the Institute had her inseminated? Strength of character?”
Helped to his feet, Cliff, reaching to pull up his pants, protested, “Mary was cooperating gleefully. I thought she was submitting peacefully. Why should she turn on me?”
Jenny ordered, “Cliff, you failed the test. Get your clothes off. Now. Put them in the barrel. Take your shower — not upstairs in our quarters — down in the dungeon. The cure for thinking with the wrong head is having a female fit you for the cock — and — ball jam. Afterwards you can remain naked until we’re ready to suit up for the round-up.”
When Cliff placed his clothes in the bin and shuffled off to the back, I was impressed with his hoscus. It’ll come in handy at my promotion party.
Chuckling, Mary shook her head. “Poor Cliff didn’t have a chance. Do you remember when you and I,” Marry addressed Jenny, “taught the anatomy course at the Institute’s Security School? You, the nurse, explained the inner recesses of the body and I showed how to probe them?”
“Those were fun times,” Jenny sighed. After a pause, Jenny invited Mary, “please join us in my office.”
“No cuffs?” Mary asked.
“At the moment,” Jenny replied, “Only if you want them.”
On the night of my promotion ceremony in Jenny’s office, I cut away Mary’s cable ties. Jenny covered Mary with a blanket. “Before we begin the promotion ceremony, what progress have you made on intelligence?”
Unbound Mary, shook her wrists and clutched the blanket over her shoulders as she rendered her report, “girls who’ve been on film say they’ve been picked up in a panel truck, searched, and driven around before they arrive in an underground windowless docking area, told to strip naked and escorted to makeup and costuming. To find our LT Bernie, you need to send an undercover with active transponders or establish a tail, a skilled one.”
Biting her lip, Jenny shook her head. “The Institute won’t authorize the risk of an agent sent in with an activated transponder and I don’t have enough experienced people to conduct a tail. The extra people I got from the Farm are maintenance people not regularly used in active security..”
“I don’t know what to suggest, if you can’t set up a tail and can’t slip in an informer or an agent with an implanted transponder… Then,” Mary turned to me, “you may find, Tina,” Mary raised her eyebrows for emphasis, “correction, LT Tina, it begins and ends at this desk.”
I glanced at Cliff to say nothing. This very afternoon The Institute had implanted Elise with active transponders. Likely Elise was seeking out a role with LT Bernie. The Institute simply hadn’t made the connection. Did Sergeant Jenny need to know. I could feel the opportunity for a major coup coming. Secrecy, I decided, was necessary to concluding a successful mission.
“Of all present, Mary, despite her eh — longevity, drew the toughest assignment,” Jenny opened her top draw, drew out a ring sized jewellery box and an order inscribed in an old-fashioned fancy script, “Mary deserves the honor of conducting this ceremony.”
Hunched to try to balance the blanket about her shoulders, Mary stood and clutched the paper in her hands to read the order, “`ATTENTION TO ORDERS.'” At those words Cliff, Logan and myself clicked our heels and stood rigidly upright.
Looking down at her bare feet, shuffling her toes, Mary quipped, “Not much of a sound when you click bare feet. Let me continue, `Having special confidence in the integrity and fidelity of Agent Tina 651, I Dr Philip Crenshaw, by power invested in me as Institute Director do make, constitute, and appoint her Lieutenant of Security Services and I do strictly charge all those inferior in grade to render her faithful service and obedience and charge her to obey all those placed in authority over her.'”
Mary’s blanket slipped away from her butterball shaped body, beach ball shaped belly and butt flanging out from her shoulders. After pinning the bars on my epaulets, Mary snickered, “Last one who I pinned bars on,” Mary patted her belly, “ran off and gave me this.” To Jenny, Mary pouted, “I guess I don’t get to attend the fun part of the promotion ceremony.”
“Actually,” I replied, “I’ll have to mix business with pleasure. the capture team has to pay a second call at the premises we visited today to secure Institute property.”
“Good luck, and remember the security training barracks verse,” Mary quoted that horny ditty the girls chanted the night before graduation from security school, “The Itch, controlling access, of his prick, in the scuffle, is the trick, to present excess, in the struggle, to the she — devil, no less, no man is special.”
“Well,” Jenny took an exaggerated deep breath, “I doubt that’s the type of benediction that would have been given by Dr Crenshaw, the Institute Director, but I’m sure Mary’s advice is sound and heart-felt.” Jenny paused, “We’ll have departed long before morning. When you return in the morning, Tina, you will be in command. Regrettably, you must conduct the necessary ceremony, yourself to make it official.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” I offered her my hand.
“Until the official change of command at midnight, I remain in charge. Until the stroke of 12, Cliff,” Jenny’s tone turned sharp, “Your hoscus remains in the sling. Your new commander may decide whether to terminate the punishment in her discretion. I deem the lesson to remain alert is one vital to your safety and that of the team. Cliff, you’re a powerful fellow, but you must remember to be careful around female prisoners. Not all will be acting like Mary was!”
“I was acting?” Mary asked.
“Cliff, secure the prisoner,” Jenny roared, “return her to the Hen House.”
“I don’t get to lock myself up this time,” Mary pretended to pout. Grabbed by the shoulder, Mary, looking at Cliff’s arm, protested, “Not so rough.”
.
My promotion celebration began one minute after mid-night in premises where we had taken indenturees. Releasing Cliff from chastity, I ordered Cliff to cut the clothes off a landlady we caught looting the premises vacated by an indenturee. Screaming great curses as she was forced to watch me perform a double oral on Cliff and Logan, the landlady was hushed with the reminder that she would soon join her tenants in a shipment to the Institute.
I wanted to drag the landlady to the waiting van naked, but that might have attracted attention. Instead we drove the patrol car around back and deposited her naked body in the trunk.
As much as I enjoyed taking command with all the deference, ceremony and prerogatives, I faced the reality that as easily as the bars were pinned on, they could be plucked off. My career might begin and end right here at the desk in my new office.
The first criterion of a good raid is intelligence, where was LT Bernie?
I dispatched Cliff in civilian clothes to visit our undercover agent Jane in the dorm room she shared with our informant Bliss. In other circumstances, I might have preferred to have conducted the interviews myself, but the videotape of the interviews confirmed my decision to have ordered Cliff not to disclose Jenny’s departure from the station.
Cliff properly had our informant strip for a personal inspection. Bliss was tart as she disrobed. “You really ought to get a copy of the tape,” Bliss taunted Cliff as she held her arms in the air for Cliff to feel under her boobs, “Professor Miller filmed a scene as a class project. Topless girls in shorts and tights tap danced in a line from DDs on the left to A cups on the right. I was in the middle somewhere; but Jane’s bouncing boobs won a spot on the far left.”
I chuckled as I watched on the monitor over the door, the care with which he strip — searched Bliss. A week in the iron jockstrap taught Cliff a lesson.
Reviewing the tape confirmed my decision to keep Jenny’s departure from her sister Jane. Heck at our induction at indenture, we’re stripped for inspection and examined like cattle. Our person, even our last name, becomes an Institute asset. Voluntary indenturees, like me and Jane, passed through a door with the legend institutum est nostra familia, reinforcing the concept that the Institute had become our family.
What did that really mean? Would Jane work as hard for me as she did for her sister?
Still, while Cliff kept news of Jenny’s departure from Jane, he did back off his request that Jane undress at Jane’s threat to have Nurse Jenny correct toxic masculinity.
I’d have to talk to Cliff about allowing resistance from subjects exempting themselves from proper protocols.
On tape, Jane and Bliss reported that, following filming the topless dance sequences, Professor Wendy Miller recruited them as extras in LT Bernie’s production. The girls had certain days to wait in front of the dorm. Picked up in a paneled delivery van, Jane and Bliss were searched.
“It’s a good toss,” Jane told Cliff.
“Yeah,” Bliss, hands on hips, spreading her legs for inspection, informed Cliff, “Fuzzy head Bernie likes to feel the girls up. I like to give him pluck when he lifts my bra up to play with my nipples. ‘Ooo, can’t you wait until we shoot the shower scene? You won’t wreck the elastic in my underwear.”
Jane and Bliss agreed that after driving around for a while, the vehicle stopped in an underground garage where the passengers alit to commence filming.
Told that the Institute prohibited activating their transponders, Bliss remarked as she bent over to pull her butt cheeks apart, “inside the building, we’re stripped, frisked, touched and felt up pretty thoroughly. What do you expect? It’s porn. Oh, there’s a lot of dead time when we can float around the building. All the doors and exits are locked up.”
“You get antsy,” Jane added to Bliss’ account, “Between takes, the stars get a bathrobe, the average slut like us are either naked or close to it. You have to move around to keep warm.”
Shown a picture of Elise, Bliss and Jane identified Elise as one of the main starlets. “Elise is the only one allowed to drive there — wherever there is — in her own car and bring her cell. Shooting often has to be cut short because Elise has to rush home when the babysitter hired through an agency has to leave.”
Even without the transponders planted on Elise, I pretty much had surmised that the shoots would take place in Robbins’s auditorium a theatre in such a remote part of the University campus that direct observation would have spooked our target by disclosing our presence and interest.
Reviewing photographs of the premises from the University’s website and considering information from Bliss, the best time to run the raid would be the confusion when the shoot ended. A sunken driveway surrounded by concrete retaining walls led to the underground garage. The best place would be the underground garage when cast and crew were boarding the van to return home or to the dorms.
How do I get the plans to the building?
While we waited for the raid, I had to keep Logan and Cliff from becoming antsy. Some steamy showers in our quarters upstairs in the mansion seemed to alleviate the tension and to relax the boys enough so that I could shave their pubes bald. I admired the pearly white skin that peered out from the bare skin when I cleared the suds away.
Secrecy and deception are necessary to the success of any mission. Like, typical guys they did not suspect I intended to attach the cock — and — ball jam before the raid. The chastity cages would fit plum to the skin if their pubes were depilated.
“With every pleasure,” I released a wistful sigh when I kissed the exposed white skin, “there must be pain. Let Mama make things better.”
Oh, I was the boss but I had to put up a front. I needed the plans for the Robbins Auditorium. The Institute now had possession of Peter Parker, the engineer who had the contract to rehabilitate the Robbins Center.
“Oh, Tina, I was so sorry I had to divert you to River Bend,” Dr Crenshaw accepted my call, “The University projects that Peter had contracts for promise great rewards for the Institute. At the moment, I’m thinking of sending Peter back to River Bend intact to run his contracting company — for the Institute. I may even return his wife Elise to River Bend and indenture her to her old job at the University — so long as she reports in on time. I’m considering her request for an extension at the moment.”
“Leave her request under consideration,” I suggested, “that way you can magnanimously excuse a lateness if the need arises and you wish or assess additional time if the situation warrants. Flexibility is the essence to success.”
In the background I could hear the voices of Institute Executives pleading with Dr Crenshaw to terminate the call and attend to another security breach that the programmer had discovered.
“I like your thinking, Tina,” Dr Crenshaw laughed, “I don’t want the University to know my interest in Peter’s projects. Why do you need to see Peter’s sketches? His office was in his house. If you need his sketches, why not go there and seize his personalty?”
Dr Crenshaw’s attention was diverted by an Executive beseeching him that they needed a decision on the spot about the latest security breach uncovered.
“Tina,” Dr Crenshaw, pausing to sternly admonish chattering colleagues to give him minute, suggested, “Just go to the front door and ask for the sketches. That should do it. Just ask for the drawings.”
Should I interest Dr Crenshaw in the reason behind my request, the transponders implanted on Elise Parker. I made a snap decision not to involve Dr Crenshaw further. Secrecy and deception are necessary partners in a successful mission. “Thank you, Dr Crenshaw,” I ended the conversation.
Tracking Elise from her transponders, I could tell she’d spend regularly left her house at!215 h (12:15 PM) to spend afternoons out for lunch and shopping, promptly returning at 1630h (4:30PM) just after her school age children arrived at home. A secret supply of cash? I wondered. Our intelligence from Bliss was that Elise used a babysitter service at night which furnished. With the child not yet in school, it was likely the service used during the day was the same service Elise used at night.
A few days surveillance on Elise’s house showed the babysitter, the same person on the days we observed, arrived a few minutes after 1200 and was gone by 1645 (4:30 PM). I might have preferred using Jane as the stand — in, but Bliss fit the general description.
What would I do with the babysitter? I decided I would risk detaining her under the Fugitive Detention Act. The Institute, under police powers granted it, could detain any person in a reasonable manner and for a reasonable time who is reasonably suspected of having fled from Justice or from an indenture to service or labor pending investigation into that person’s correct status. I might have to detain this girl a couple of days. Theoretically, I should ask Dr Crenshaw for permission, but he was busy and with another security breach. There was no need to bother him.
I was surprised how easily Dr Crenshaw’s advice to walk to the front door and ask worked, though not in the way he might have expected. Once Elise was out and safely away from the house, Cliff drove up to the side door in one of the cars we seized during the raids. I drove up in front of the house in an unmarked car right behind the babysitter’s car. When I approached the front door, Bliss remained in my car.
At the front door, the babysitter bolted when she saw me. I charged into the house after her. She raced to the side door where she crashed into Cliff. He managed to cling to her as she collided with him and knocked him down.
Pulling her to her feet, I dragged her back into the house. “Wake the baby up,” I warned her, “and I’ll apply the tazz to your sweet spot. Why the hurry to leave — we just arrived? A warrant?”
“I’m trying to raise the money to make a late payment,” the girl protested, “I slave to catch up with debt. My car broke down. I paid for repairs and missed a couple of payments. To make a few extra bucks I clean up her kitchen and her bathroom while I mind the baby.”
I was about to ask the girl to drop her dungarees for inspection of her bar code, when Bliss who had joined us inside the house, whispered, “I need her clothes. Get her undressed. Have Cliff watch her clean the kitchen. I need to shower, get my scent off me. Wearing her clothes and using her perfume should give me a fragrance close enough to hers to pass.” Spotting a backpack like those college girls carry, Bliss snatched the satchel and opened it up, “her perfume is probably in there.”
My penetrating glare at Bliss drew the observation, “Elise is an actress. Elise might not notice the change of face but a change of costuming?”
“And the bath?” I prodded her.
“First opportunity to bathe without a transman leering at me in the dorms,” Bliss remarked, “Jane got herself on an academic report for splashing some soap in a his/her face. Trans-men may crowd women out of women’s sports, scholarships and employment but porn is the preserve of a real woman.” Turning to Cliff with a taunt, Bliss smirked in a breathless, audible whisper, “You can feel me up some other time.”
It didn’t take long for me to locate the sketches of the Robbins auditorium and load them in my car. Fluffy white bathrobe that reached down to her ankles. “Well, Bliss, it’s up to you to play the feature role. Are you up to it?”
“I’m playing an easy part — a silly college girl — working off a debt I foolishly incurred,” Bliss went about cleaning the mirrors and the vanity. “If I lose my way in the script, I’ll smile and giggle.”
With the plans, I found myself behind my desk planning the problem. Extra people were sent in from the farm to watch the access points and back up our raiding party. The extras, all volunteers appreciated the excitement. “We strike when the gates to the underground garage open. Use our vans to block the exit.”
Cliff and one of my extras asked, “What is the likely response?”
“Cast and crew will be trapped,” We were looking at the architect’s sketches on the computer screen above my door. Inked copies of the architect’s renderings were spread across my desk, “in their cargo vans when drivers scoot or try to. Likely a few will make it outside and try to scale the high retaining walls which surround the entrance to the underground garage.”
Cliff smirked, “What do we do then? Give them a hand? Help them scale the walls?”
“Tazze them and cuff them,” I replied, “They’re fleeing the scene of a crime.
Concealing or assisting a fugitive indenturee is a crime.”
“And our target, LT Bernie?” one voice asked.
“Intelligence reports LT Bernie and Professor Wendy retreat to his private apartment at the final cut of the night. The apartment is located in the oculus, the bubble in the roof. Once the targets are in the apartment, there’s no exit.
My team will take the LT and his girlfriend Wendy. Wendy gets chucked into one of the vans with the girls. The guys are brought inside here. People from the farm will process the men on the scene.”
Preparations and knowledge of the terrain pain off. We pulled a dozen men, mostly boys from the college, off the vans. When my order to disrobe drew blank stares, I advised them, “I’m impressed, so shy, so modest, Yet, I suggest, most who get undressed with a transit pass will be blessed, those who persist, who want to grapple, will face the surgeon’s scalpel.”
They stood stunned for a second or two. Then suddenly I had a dozen naked men facing a wall. As I read each code and implanted a transponder in the right hemisphere of each butt, I recited a little jingle, “I claim without apology, an expertise in male butt-ology, Some are tough, taut and muscular, amiable qualities for a star, others are graced by a curved swirl, soft and round like a girl.”
After the raid, between processing prisoners back at our dungeon in the basement of the Riverside mansion, Cliff reminded me, “the hardest part of the job is less than serene,” Looking up at the computer monitor above my door, Cliff quipped, “you have to face the image on the screen.”
Processing prisoners gave me a moment of comic relief, Stripped on the tailor’s platform and prodded, Elise, rubbing her rear end, asked permission to stand in my office. “I hope to be out of here. I need to call my attorneys.”
“You can’t,” I was firm.
“I was given time to report in,” Elise maintained.
“Live in a dream and awake in a nightmare,” I reminded her, “your 10 days expired. You’re an absconder. Do you have else?”
As much as I enjoyed taking command with all the deference, ceremony and prerogatives, I faced the reality that as easily as the bars were pinned on, they could be plucked off. My career might begin and end right here at the desk in my new office. I had to deal with the charismatic LT Bernie. Bracing myself to face the image on the screen, I nodded to Cliff to produce LT Bernie. I sat behind my desk and waited for Lt Bernie.
Though wrists and feet were secured and his genitalia were locked down in the cock — and — ball jam, LT Bernie retained his poise when Cliff guided him before my desk. Looking around, Bernie quipped, “Hmm, this is the place it begins and ends.”
Before I could ask Bernie if he had anything he wanted me to report to the Institute, Bernie, assuming the deep voice of command, attempted to take charge. After effusively applauding my planning and execution of the raid, Bernie demanded “I need to report my findings to the Institute Director. Get me my clothes or issue me a utility uniform. I’ll be sure to report your total cooperation!”
A strange feeling came across me. I felt myself carried along by Bernie’s speech. My breathing became deeper. I could feel the temperature rising. How I wanted to get out of these clothes and fuck —
I drew a deep breath. “I’ll report your request to the Institute,” I uttered my response in a dry voice. “Anything else?”
“When I reveal to the Institute a plan I’ve developed,” Bernie’s gleamed with dollar signs as he bragged, “for baiting the young woman into submitting to capture as easy as inducing young women to over — spend themselves into debt, I could end up in the directorate. I intend to reduce the process of credit — indenture — over extension — capture into an assembly line. You could be part of it.” Bernie, turning to look behind him at Cliff, implored Cliff. “My proposal could revolutionize Institute security. It’s a question of do you want to join the future or end up going to market head — shaven cuffed when Security is cut back?”
I blotted Bernie and his promises out of my mind. I nodded to Cliff. Cliff drew his taser. Had Cliff been carried along by Bernie’s magnetism. Would Cliff take aim and fire at me? I closed my eyes and waited.
Dazed Bernie fell to the floor. Cliff inserted a ball gag in Bernie’s mouth.
Standing over Bernie, hands on my hips, I declared, “When you sign the indenture, the Institute decides.” To Cliff, I ordered, “Put Bernie in the cage outside, away from other prisoners. Even with his balls in a cock jam, and a ball gag sealing his mouth, he has enough charisma to persuade others to do his bidding.”
“Anything else?” Cliff asked.
“Have someone from the farm guard him. Get Logan,” I ordered, “Meet me upstairs in quarters. Your cock locks are coming off. Mama needs to fuck herself blind.”