Turning on the Charm
A secret agent has to escape certain death in his nemesis' lair. How? By flirting his way into the pants of his captor and making her cum till she passes out, of course. :D
This story was written for Serling as part of my themed Patreon request day for May. This month's theme was "I Spy" and the story contains M/F sex between consenting adults.
Turning On the Charm
Some secret agents were hired because they were elite assassins. Others because they were hyper-intelligent and able to think their way out of any problem in a cool, calm and logical fashion. And others still, others like Oliver, were uniquely suited to their line of work because of their people skills.
Tied to a metal table with thick leather straps, the marmalade cat rested calmly as the man he had been sent to arrest or kill monologued to him about something. Blah blah brand new world, blah blah freed from war and corruption by cleansing fire, blah. Soon he was done, and the wolf stalked away after commanding his head scientist to kill Oliver, and to make it as painful as possible. That left Oliver and the mouse alone, and as she began to gather up the relevant poisons and acids to make the final few hours of the cat's life a living hell, he spoke to her. He spoke softly, gently, not talking down to her or trying to overtly seduce her. Just probing, asking a question here and there while offering up some other subjects more generally speaking, and looking for a response.
Sure enough, it wasn't long before he found what he was looking for. A way in, a slight redness rising in the woman's ears as he idly commented on how the bad guy's choice of architecture was very Minas Morgul in its aesthetic. After that, he fell silent, but it wasn't more than a minute later when the scientist spoke up herself.
"So, Mr Rushford, you like the Lord of the Rings?"
She asked as she continued to gather the implements by which to put Oliver to his death.
"Oh, yes. It's one of my absolute favourites. I've even read all Christopher Tolkien's works, if only to have a more full understanding of his father's world."
He murmured, sincere in his response, smiling as he thought of the impact of those books on him as a child, but also smiling as he felt his plan beginning to take shape. For several minutes they chatted back and forth about it, Oliver gently guiding the conversation where it needed to go until finally he found himself at what seemed like his best bet. He took a breath, cleared his mind of any lingering worries about his potential oncoming death even as he watched the mouse pouring a steaming acid into a glass hypodermic syringe, and took the plunge.
"I always cry when I read the Ents coming upon the devastated woodland which Saruman's troops have cut down. It... it really breaks my heart to think that your boss's plan is going to ravage the woodlands of so much of the world just like Saruman."
The mouse paused. She sighed, and hung her head.
"I... I admit, I regret that sacrifice too. I always loved walking in the forest."
Oliver nodded.
"I can picture you now. Barefoot, treading through a soft grassy glade with the green tinted light shining down over your upturned face. As beautiful as the Lady Galadriel herself."
The mouse's face flushed.
"D-don't mock me, Mr Rushford. It doesn't become a gentleman to poke fun at a lady's appearance, no matter how plain."
Oliver's eyes widened, and he glared at the scientist in a mixture of dismay and frustration.
"Mock you? Plain?! I promise you, I said what I said because I believe it to be true. And, if anyone has been telling you otherwise... be it someone from your past or even your boss himself, they are wrong. You are as fair as the Lady of Lothlorien, and though I will never again walk amongst trees or feel the grass beneath my feet... though neither of us will, if your boss's plan comes to fruition, I feel lucky to at least be spending my final moments able to look into your eyes and picture myself walking through such verdant beauty as is held within them. My only regret is that is all I can do, bound as I am. Were I able to reach out and touch you, to take you into my arms... I would do so much more than look upon your beauty, until you could not help but know the sincerity of my words."
The mouse's eyes bulged. He watched her whiskers twitching, her eyes darting towards the door, and towards the countdown clock upon one of the computer screens nearby. Then she was darting over towards him. Unfastening his restraints, and suddenly she was in his arms. Being kissed. Being touched. Being dragged to the floor as he whispered to her over and over again.
"My Lady of the Woods. Beauty beyond compare..."
Her body tensed as he pressed into her. Her arms and legs wrapped tight, desperately tight around him as they lay there on the ground and he gasped, moaned, kissing her over and over again as she whimpered, squeaked, and finally screamed in ecstasy.
And yet, it did not end there. For Oliver knew that in order to ensure she did not come to her senses and realise the trouble she would be in for setting him loose, she had to fail to come to her senses at all.
"Y-you haven't..."
She began, only to wail anew as in the wake of her orgasm, her first orgasm, the secret agent simply shook his head and continued to drive himself against her.
"Your eyes, your smile bewitches me. I cannot stop. I cannot rest while I know I could be bringing you more of the pleasure such heaven-sent beauty deserves."
A second time, a third she screamed in climax. She wailed in ecstasy as finally Oliver let loose within her, only to gasp, to gurgle in stunned elation as no sooner was he done he pulled back, only to kiss her deep on the lips and beg with a guttural moan.
"Tell me you can go again. Tell me that I can taste you, eat you. Make you cum just one more time."
In truth though, she came three more times before passing out. Only then did Oliver gently extricate himself from between her legs, panting, chuckling, wiping his soaking wet face off on her discarded lab coat. He re-dressed himself. He carefully placed her folded blouse and trousers under her head as a makeshift pillow, draped her long coat across her curled up, satisfied body, and left her there as he slipped out through the door.
He had a world to save. An evil villain to stop, and...
"H-hey, stop!! You, you're meant to be..."
Oliver froze, and the cat ever so slowly turned his head to see a lean otter with a bow tie, clipboard and glasses standing at the end of the hallway into which he had stepped. His eyes darted to the bow tie, and to the small blue pin upon the otter's shirt pocket. A little blue box with a light on the top, which he recognised immediately. His balls ached, and his softened, spent cock begged him not to do what he was about to do. Nevertheless, unless he wanted to have to fight his way through an army of armed security once the alarm went off, he knew that he had to do it.
Once more the marmalade furred feline took a breath, turned his most winning smile upon the otter, and chuckled warmly.
"Good god. I swear, if I didn't know he was a fictional character I would have sworn that you were the eleventh Doctor."
The otter's eyes widened, and as Oliver saw the other man's cheeks flush slightly at what had clearly been taken as a great compliment, he took a single step towards him.
"It's a little embarrassing to admit, y'know... but besides being a hero and having that cool, quirky old man in a young body energy... I always thought that the eleventh Doctor was really, really cute. And now, seeing you? It hasn't changed my mind at all."
By Jeeves
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