Akiko Sells Out (mc, nc, FF, MF, MD, FD)
(c) 2001 Aerosol Kid
The people and events in this come from my brain, not the real
world. Regardless of what that tells you about my brain, it means that I'm
not writing about you, your mom, your friends, or your friend's friends.
So you can't sue me. Neener neener.
If you're under age in your territory (and you know what I mean), then
read something else.
This is the second part of a series about a Japanese-Californian secret
agent grrrl. Her name is Akiko and she'll kick your ass! :-)
By Aerosol Kid <aerosol_kid@hotmail.com> Visit me at
http://www.asstr.org/~AK_Home
***
Kid Rock. That's how my second day at the Soporo Health spa started.
It was on the radio, and for a minute I thought it was my alarm clock.
Goddam Kid Rock, I hate waking up to shitty songs on the radio, but I can't
stand beeping alarms either, you know? So I swatted the air next to me,
trying to destroy the radio and that fucking song, or at least snooze for
ten minutes and get up when something good was on, but my hand smacked on
cold concrete.
Come to think of it, all of me was on cold concrete.
I sat up slowly, and let me tell you, it hurt. I had a migraine in my
head, a migraine in my neck, a migraine in my - 'scuse my French. I
was one big raw nerve. And I was freezing. I was in a tiny cell, almost
square. There was no chair, no bed, and the big black door had no handle,
only a single keyhole. There was a tiny grate above the door with wire
mesh over it. I couldn't get so much as a finger through that, even if I
could magically get up there. The offending song was filtering in through
this opening.
Oh, and then I figured out the reason I was so cold. Someone,
presumably a guy with a hard-on and serious fucking Yellow Fever, had
dressed me in a teensy blue Race Queen outfit, with these absurd aqua logos
and numbers all over it. The halter wasn't any help keeping my back warm
and my swollen, tender nipples were abraded - the thing was at least two
sizes too small. The skirt would've been okay if they'd remembered to give
me some underwear. And don't get me started on the stiletto heels crammed
on my feet.
Around this time, my training kicked in. I kicked off the heels and
snapped to my feet without making a sound. I started to breathe deeply -
from the belly, not the chest. I remembered coming into the spa, doing
some on-site recon, then those evil blue dragonflies biting me all over.
That was about it. I figured that I blew my cover somehow in the first
hour like a stupid rookie. Either that or they ID'd me with security
cameras. Now I needed to bust out of this little roach motel.
Thinking back, I wish it'd been that simple, but I'm getting ahead of
myself.
I've been in worse jams before, so I started operating on reflex. In
minutes I'd found two or three bits of wire on the (very icky and dirty)
floor and pieced them together into something to MacGyver my ass out of
there. Thirty seconds later and I'd jimmied the lock. The idiot guard on
the other side of the door had the radio up so loud he didn't hear the
satisfying *snick* of the lock giving way, and I was all the way out into
the narrow hall, high heels in hand, before he noticed me.
He was a standard issue, regular-army-looking dweebo with a flat top.
He folded his newspaper and grinned at me as he stood up from the wooden
barstool he was camped out on. "Well now," he drawled at me, instantly
reminding me of the fucking jarheads I roomed with at training camp, "what
do we have here?"
He strutted a little to my right, checking my ass out. I was crouched a
little in front of him, getting ready to *take* his ass out. His tongue
poked into his cheek while his pea brain tried to come up with something
cute to say.
"If it ain't Chun-Li. Well honey, this ain't Street Fighter, so you're
gonna hafta go back in your..."
I wasn't thinking anymore, at least not about him. While he stood there
yapping, I bent my free hand into a Mantis hook (Northern Tanglang Chuen
style, for those of you keeping score at home. I may be Nipponese, but I
like all kinds of fighting styles, Chinese, Brazilian, or whatever) and
made solid contact with my favorite pressure point under his left ear. He
went down like a sack of wet cheez balls and I snagged his gun and key
card. Yoink!
Two dead asshole guards and a few electronic security doors later, I'd
caught up with my Miata in the parking deck, hotwired the ignition and was
bopping my way back to headquarters. All in all, it was suspiciously easy
to get out of there, but at the time I was too sore and exhausted to give
it much thought.
***
"Akiko! Are you listening?" my superior barked at me. I was in
mid-bubble with my gum and it popped as I flinched in my seat - a pretty
clear indication that I wasn't.
At least I was more comfortable - I was out of that stupid Race Queen
costume and back into my outfit of choice around headquarters. Black tank,
black cargo pants, black boots. Even black underwear, just between you and
me.
I quickly slurped the gum back into my mouth and answered, "Yes, ma'am,"
as meekly as I could. I was back at Nepthys, in the middle of an epic chew
out for fucking up my last mission, so it was time for me to give face to
the Boss Lady.
Director Sutton was obviously counting to ten in her head. I could tell
she wanted to throttle me. Lucky for me, she likes me too much to stay mad
for long. She's pretty, thirty-something, with long, curly tresses I could
stare at for hours. I envy white chicks with natural curls, and she has
these sexy ringlets that frame her face. Hot! Too bad she also has this
thing for frigid office attire. Anyway, after a deep breath or two, she
fixed me with a (slightly softer) glare.
"You don't have any memory of what happened, and you might have
compromised our security during your abduction. But the reason I'm so mad
at you is that you were very nearly killed! Field missions are dangerous
enough without grandstanding, however talented the operative," she
lectured, the little compliment at the end was to keep me on the hook.
"I know, Keeley. I was stupid." I think I'm the only Cobalt Op who gets
away with using her first name. It's a long story. "I wouldn't have gone
solo like that if it hadn't been for those bugs."
She flicked her way through several pages of my checkup results.
"That's the thing. There's no trace of any invasive compounds in your
blood work. All we could find were twenty or so small puncture wounds all
over you."
She had to remind me. I started to scratch the bug bite on my neck as
soon as she said "puncture".
She frowned, thumbing through the report for a few more seconds. Then
she was back to staring at me, coming to judgment. I felt like a teenager
awaiting punishment for sneaking out past curfew. "So what's it gonna be,
mom? Am I grounded?" I grinned at her.
"You little shithead," she chuckled at me, pretending to deck me on the
chin. Then she rose up to her full height with a little sigh and shook her
head ever so slightly. "As a matter of fact, Akiko, you are grounded.
You're restricted to headquarters for the next 48 hours for observation.
You're out of play, for the moment."
"Rats," I complained, stomping the floor like a total brat. I was only
half-kidding.
***
So I found myself loitering around the commons area, watching different
operatives going to and from missions. Some I knew, some I didn't. Some
were alone, some in small packs. Everyone had somewhere to go but me. I
was already bored as fuck.
I couldn't go home and I wasn't in the mood to surf on a terminal. I'd
caught up on z's after my checkup, so I was pretty wired.
I was about to head up to the court and get my b-ball game on, but then
I had a better idea. Or rather, I could tell I was having a really cool
idea, but I could only see the first couple of steps in my head.
First, I got the idea to cruise over to Munitions and pick up a few
things. Roddy - this excellently hunky black guy from Bristol, England -
was on duty when I got there.
"Look who made it back from the jaws of death," he teased, as I slid up
and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"And when have I ever *not* made it back?" I countered, in my best
Valley voice. I'm pretty good at it, it's almost a required course at
UCLA.
"I'm not knockin' you, love," he cooed, in that hot, hot Bristol accent
of his. "Just want you to keep comin' back to me, right?"
"Hmmm," I affirmed, twisting some of my hair around a finger. I usually
didn't get so girlie around him, but it seemed necessary, considering my
fabbo idea. "Roddy, I need some things. If I'm stuck here, I wanna do
some live drills."
He frowned apologetically, not wanting to say no to me. "Sorry, dear.
You're on restricted access for the next forty-eight..." He looked at his
watch. "Well, forty-seven-and-a-half hours," he winked. "No can do."
Oh, we'll see about that, I sniggered to myself. I love a challenge. I
put my hands together on his desk and leaned in toward him, doing a sort of
Dachu-no pose. His eyes helplessly roamed over my tits. "Roddy I'm
bored," I pouted. "If I don't find something to do I'm gonna just
dieeeeee." I bounced up and down a little on the last word - I can be just
awful when I put my mind to it.
"Ahhhh," he coughed, taking a step back from me. Ever the consummate
professional. A second later his eyes snapped back up to meet mine. "I
suppose we could fix you up with a little something."
I grinned at him. "Bitchin'. I just need a pair of Glock 17's and a
can of this..." I slipped a folded Post-It across the desk to him, which he
unfolded cautiously. His eyes widened.
"This is strong stuff. What do you need it for?"
"Upcoming Assignment. I'm supposed to neutralize some dignitary asswipe
and bring him in. I never used this stuff, so Theo volunteered to be my
guinea pig."
He waffled for a minute in front of me, turning the Post-It over and
over in his hands.
I took a slightly different tack. "You want me to keep coming back
alive, right? Well, let me practice."
He melted. "Allright, love. You've got two hours. After that I'm
reporting you to Madam Sutton, at which point you will be in deep..." he
trailed off, crisply jabbing his hand a few inches over his head.
"Thanks, Roddy!" I giggled at him, rounding off my little pose at his
desk with a curtsy. just love the bowing shit. Ten seconds later I
was off, with my Glocks snug between my waistband and my back and a can of
mystery gas in my pants pocket.
Every time I finished doing the thing in my head, I'd get more excited.
Then a new idea would appear. This was fun, like an Easter egg hunt. I
felt like my two days of downtime were gonna go by in a jiff. I was giddy
when I got to Max's office, so I stuck my head in her door immediately.
"Knock knock!"
She was deep into reports from her last detail, and I startled her.
"Christ, Akiko!" she jumped, "Don't they knock where you're from?" Max is
my bud, so we have this ongoing shit-talking contest.
"*Sor-reee*!" I said, acting all peeved. "Just came by to say 'hi'."
"What are you still doing here? I thought they were done with you hours
ago." She motioned me inside as she popped a cigarette in her mouth and
looked around for a lighter.
"Didn't you hear? I'm stuck here for the next two days!" I plopped into
the only other seat in the tiny office, right across from her.
Max took a long drag, then tried in vain to fan the smoke away from me.
She knows I hate it, but I was on her turf, so that's about as charitable
as she got. She's about my age. Blonde. Barbie-ish, only shorter than
average and more top-heavy. We don't get too many missions together
because other on our detail get distracted by that much estrogen.
Today she was wearing a fly-looking tennis dress, and I made a mental note
to ask her to borrow it sometime.
She ashed into an soda cup, making it her de facto ashtray. Then
came her usual interrogation. "So are you okay?"
"Uh-huh."
"Did they find anything wrong with you?"
"Nope. Nothing except these dang bug bites," I said, scratching my leg
furiously.
"So they want to watch you for awhile to see if you melt down or
something?"
"Yeah!" I enthused, bugging my eyes out at her.
She started laughing, which turned into coughing. When she settled
down, she took another drag and squinted at me through the smoke. "Bored
yet?"
"You have no fucking idea," I confessed. Then I leaned forward
conspiratorially, looking quickly from right to left. "But I have some
plans to entertain myself for awhile," I half-whispered.
Max smiled a sisterly bad-girl smile and leaned forward, her head inches
from mine. "Oh? Do tell," she crooned.
Then I misted her face with a generous dose from the aerosol spray,
rearing my own head back to a safe distance.
Since she's almost as big a badass as I am, she reacted almost
instantly, jerking back and reaching under her desk for her piece. She was
coughing again, furiously. I jumped up and intercepted her ciggy, dropping
it in the soda cup. Right when I sat back down, the muzzle of her gun
appeared in my face. But Max didn't have much of a chance against the
spray - it was a wicked strong hypnoerotic agent, and there was enough in
the cloud I'd sprayed at her to take down three people and the horses they
rode in on. The mist had diffused almost instantly, and now she was just
sitting there, pointing her gun at me, her mouth slowly coming open. I sat
still - I knew that if I made a move, she could still waste me.
After a minute or two I figured she was almost under. I hopped up to
lock her door, then watched as she slowly lowered the gun to the desk and
tried to focus on some imaginary thing about a foot in front of her. She
was working her jaw a little, like she was trying to say something.
Finally, her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped in her chair with
a cute little "mm...".
That was my cue.
I walked around behind her desk and wiggled between the back of her
chair and the wall. Then I started to rub her neck. She didn't visibly
react, but I knew she was getting off on it. We're good like that.
"Maxi, we don't have much time, and I need some help," I began. "I need
for you to come help me do something."
I moved from her neck to her fantastic arms. Max isn't overweight by
any - she's a secret fucking agent, right? But there's a lot more
of her to love than any pasty Gwynneth Paltrow waif. I forgot about my
plans for a second or two and got into exploring her upper body. I'd
always thought she was ten pounds of sexy in a five pound bag, but today I
was crossing over into new territory, actually touching her. I don't
attend services at that church very often, if you know what I mean.
Then the next step of my Totally Cool Idea trumpeted in the back of my
mind. "Let me tell you what we're gonna do," I whispered, nibbling a
little on her left ear.
"Oh..." she managed as she quietly came.
***
Next thing I know, we were moving through the halls of the admin quad. I
was trying not to look nervous (I was way jazzed on the Cool Idea, eager to
find out what was next), while hoping no one noticed Max looking like she
just pulled a ferocious bong hit. I told her to follow me and it seemed to
take all of her concentration to keep up. We needed to get where we were
going fast because we looked tres suspicious.
Luckily, we didn't bump into anyone we knew on the way to Director
Sutton's office.
Keeley looked surprised to see me again - I didn't usually drop in on
the Boss Lady unannounced.
"Well, if you two are together, I know trouble's brewing somewhere," she
teased, waving us into her office. "What can I do for you?"
I had to be quick before she noticed that Max wasn't operating on all
thrusters. I sat down and started talking, while Max followed her
instructions - she discreetly closed and locked the door behind us and
moved over next to me, staying on her feet.
"Max and I were wondering, ma'am, since I'm stuck here, if you could let
us into the Situation Arena for some practice."
Keeley regarded me for a sec, then Max. "I'm not quite sure I believe
what I'm hearing," she remarked, dry as a martini, "you're volunteering
yourselves to do S.A." She smiled a little, but I could tell she smelled a
rat. She looked up. "Max, are we a little antsy? Have a seat, you're
making me nervous."
To my relief, Max mumbled "Sorry ma'am," and sat down next to me. Guess
she was following suggestions from anybody who had one to offer.
All I needed was for Madam Director to get out from behind her desk. I
didn't want to jump her without restraining her first - she was a much more
tenacious than my darling Maxi. If I didn't make my move soon, the
jig would be up.
"I know it's hard to believe, Keeley, but what else is there to do?" I
pouted.
She looked us over for an agonizing few seconds, then smiled. "I guess
we should restrict you to base more often, it's turning out to be quite
productive." Then she rose up and walked around her desk to a small box
on the wall. "I'll just give you one of my keycards and you can return it
to me when your downtime is over. If you get bored with that you can
just..."
Max was performing perfectly. As soon as Keeley's back was to us, Max
pounced out of her chair, wrapping Keeley in a tight bear hug. I was up
quick as lightning, and before Keeley could make a sound of protest I
sprayed her but good, taking care to keep the highly concentrated cloud
blowing away from Max. She'd had quite enough of the stuff.
There was a short scuffle - Keeley coughing and spitting and bucking
like the fucking demon bitch she was, Max struggling to maintain her grip
on her, me fighting to keep an arm around both of them - to keep them from
knocking something over or breaking shit. Keeley tried in vain to get an
arm free, and she was so busy wheezing for air that she couldn't yell or
scream. Still, I was afraid the commotion would bring the guards - they
never strayed too far from the Director's door.
Then all of a sudden Keeley just sort of stopped fighting. I loosened
my grip on the two and rotated them so that I could look up at
Keeley's face. Her cherubic cheeks were flushed, and her adorable curls
were a mess. Her shocking blue eyes were opening and closing slowly,
staying closed more and more often. She looked less like the Big Bad Madam
who had trained me from day one, and more like a porcelain doll - albeit
one who'd just gotten laid and was in need of a good smoke.
I stood there looking at both of them for a minute. Suddenly, I wasn't
quite sure how I felt about gassing my two closest friends, and I wondered
what the fuck I was going to do next. As a matter of fact, I couldn't
remember why I was doing any of this in the first place! Max was still
holding onto Keeley, and they both looked about as lucid as department
store mannequins.
Mannequins who were hot and bothered, that is. I could see Keeley's
erect nipples poking through her white cotton blouse (no bra, must be
casual Friday!), and Max was displaying telltale pink blotches on her face
and neck. She must be getting pretty randy. In order to really cement the
effects of the spray, I'd need physical contact with Keeley like I had done
with Max, but we needed to get out of that office el soono.
Then the next part of the plan tickled my brain. I think I actually
giggled out loud, it felt so good. All my doubts melted away in sunny
streaks. Things were getting interesting...
"Ladies, we'll be on our way now." I told them. Two pairs of eyes
swiveled lazily to lock with mine. "Who's got wheels?"
Max spoke up. "I do. My truck is out in the parking deck."
"Got your keys?"
"Yes, Akiko."
"Wunderbar. Follow me. Act natural. Don't talk to anybody, just do
what I tell you. Clear?"
"Yes, Akiko," they chorused. I had my own minions. Neat.
***
It was getting late, so the way to the underground parking deck was
pretty deserted. No one noticed Director Sutton leaving with her two
favorite protÈgÈs, and no one questioned my leaving the base - I was
getting through every electronic checkpoint with Keeley's thumbprint. The
only time I got nervous was at the very last exit, where real guards are
posted. But these just saw the Director and waved us through.
Suckers. I wasn't even going to need my guns!
You'd think a like Max would drive some cute little sedan, or a
jeep. But she drives this monstrous black Explorer. Watching her climb up
into it made me laugh, as usual.
"Max, in the backseat. I'll drive." She grunted in acknowledgement as
she pushed into the back, giving me a nice view of her marvelous bubble
butt. "Keeley, you're up front with me," I ordered.
I gunned the engine and we were off, a little squeal from the tires
echoing through the parking deck. A minute later and we were clear, on
public city streets. Sorry, can't say which city. I mean, I *could*, but
then I'd have to kill you.
***
We were looking at about an hour of travel time to the Soporo Spa in San
Fran (I don't care if you know where the bad are, besides - the place
is long gone now). If I didn't do something to reinforce the hypnoerotic
agent, it would wear off hella quick and I'd have two pissed off operatives
to deal with. Trouble was, I was designated driver.
"Max, dahling." She blinked at me from the back seat as I watched her in
the rear view mirror. "Take off your for me." She flipped up her
brief tennis dress and wordlessly wiggled out of her underwear. Sadly, I
couldn't pay as much attention to the show as I wanted, cuz traffic on the
highway was a bitch. And the bridge and tunnel dorks would be out in full
force tonight, this being Friday.
"I think that your needs your complete attention, Max. I want you
to play with yourself back there. Make yourself comfortable and until I tell you to stop. as many times as you need to, but don't stop
for a second." There. That oughta do it.
Max swiveled around so that she was stretched out across the back seat.
She bent her knees, spread her legs, then started delicately exploring her
folds with her index finger. As I negotiated the absurd highway traffic
into town, I snuck a few more looks in the rear view. A few minutes later,
Max was silently grooving on her clit. Hard.
"Allrighty, it's your turn, dollface," I said to Keeley. "Please do us
all a favor and lose those slacks. Then hand me your underwear." I just
*had* to know what she wore under those drab penguin suits.
"Of course, Akiko," Keeley slurred generously. With effort, she escaped
her slacks in the narrow confines of the front seat. A minute later, Boss
Lady was offering me her satin panties. Nice. I took them from her,
running them through my fingers on the steering wheel. From the heady
scent reaching my nostrils, I had a good idea where she was at. I tossed
her underwear at her (because I'd probably *never* have the chance to do
that again), then reached across the truck cabin for her with my right
hand. Fuck. Stupid, oversized truck. I couldn't quite reach the black,
tangled patch between her legs. I made do by running my hand up and down
her thigh, which she obviously dug. Unlike my quiet friend in the back,
Keeley began to purr and grind her hips into the seat. I had to admit, it
was getting a little steamy in my cargo pants.
"Keeley, dear. Looks like I can't take care of you like I want to right
now. We're on kind of a tight schedule so I need to keep hauling ass into
town," I said, pinching her left nipple between my fingers. "So you're
kinda on your own for a few. I want to you play with yourself too, only
stop when you cum. Cool?"
Homegirl didn't waste a minute. She had two fingers in her slit before
she answered, "Yes! Of course it's cool, Akiko!" I risked a look away from
the road, and was lucky enough to see her shiver violently, her mess of
curls reacting in the cutest way possible. I was guessing it wouldn't take
her long to follow orders.
While I was calculating Keeley's Time To Orgasm, I heard a long,
shuddering gasp from the back. Score one for Max. I swear that I heard
her whisper "Akiko..." before she continued her work. She was fantasizing
about me! I was seriously wet now from the onanistic shenanigans going on
around me.
A few seconds later, Keeley made a loud, guttural noise that I can't
even begin to describe. Let's just say I almost drove off a bridge. And
Keeley ties up the game with Max!
I knew just what had to happen next. I set the cruise control, then did
my best to pull my pants down. Miraculously, I managed to peel my pants
and underwear down to my knees.
"Keeley, get over here and eat me," I commanded. Eagerly, she moved to
the floor between the two bucket seats and put her head in my lap. The
logistics were tricky, but this woman wasn't in charge of a fuckload of
secret agents for no reason. It didn't take us long to work it all out so
that Keeley's hot tongue was doing enthusiastic orbits around my love
button.
And what a talented tongue it was. All of a sudden, I was disappointed
that we were getting to Soporo Spa so quickly. In another fifteen, we'd be
rolling into the parking lot. My back was killing me, the way I was
grinding upward in the seat and pushing with my thighs, but it was
definitely worth it. And thank God for cruise control.
Max let loose with another sizzling exhalation in the back seat,
punctuated with another low groan of "Akiko..." That did it. Gripping the
steering wheel with all my might, I crested, searing bolts of purple
slamming into my brain from my sex. I'm glad I wasn't in the middle of a
lane change, or something.
In the last few miles of the trip, I had Max come up front for a special
appointment with me, too.
***
So a few minutes later, three dazed and disheveled secret agents
stumbled out of the big black Explorer in a locked garage at Soporo Health
Spa. I had to admit, it was pretty obvious what we'd been up to. I smiled
to myself as a group of in crisp black suits approached us.
One of the was familiar. I think his name was Pink. Or.
Something...
I'm not sure what he said to me right then, but his lips definitely
moved and he was looking right at me. At that exact moment, I felt my
whole being retreat into what felt like a broom closet in the darkest
corner of my mind. I was reminded instantly of my treatment in the Blue
Room and my instructions to bring two operatives back here for treatment of
their own. Full of sudden anger and shame, I realized that I'd sold out my
two best friends before I even knew what I was doing. I was going out like
a sucker. Again. I'd have cried, but I couldn't.
"Akiko, you've done a brilliant job," Agent Pink was telling me. I
fucking hated him and I wanted to punch him in the dick *so hard*! But the
rest of me just giggled and said thanks.
"Gentlemen, let's take the Director to the Blue Room and this... Max?
To the White Room. Akiko, please come with me," Agent Pink requested, a
familiar smile on his face that I'd have given anything to take a belt
sander to at that moment.
As my friends were led off and I shuffled after Agent Fuckhead, I was
madder than I think I've ever been before. I had to figure out how to get
control of myself, and get poor Max and Keeley out of here.
That's another story.
FIN
By Aerosol Kid <aerosol_kid@hotmail.com> Visit me at
http://www.asstr.org/~AK_Home
|
|
