It was a gorgeous British sunrise. Not much had been written on British sunrises; even less so about sunsets, given that at one time, the sun had not set on the British Empire. Still as sunrises went, even British ones, it was rather impressive. A hint of gold on the horizon, slowly broadening to awaken the green fields and pastures of Britain; the sun’s life giving rays blazing forth, momentarily overcoming the clouds and rain.
Elaine had been witness to many a British sunrise, and resented each of them deeply and with much malice. Sunrise, whenever it occurred was a positively unseemly hour where good folk, or at least sensible ones, should be tucked into bed. The golden light had reached the foot of her bed, lighting the vast acreage of satin. It also the illuminated the enthusiastic alarm clock that had roused Elaine from slumber. Patricia Halliday, known more commonly by her stage name Trish Holiday; star of an endless stream of Lesbian Cat Girl Theatre films and a top spy in the S.I.A. the sub-branch of the Central Intelligence Agency that dealt exclusively with the sexier side of intelligence.
Trish was glorious; a lithe, athletic, red head with a sensual repertoire that defied description. Her tongue in particular was magnificent, capable of reducing a lover to quivering, orgasmic, jelly in a few judicial licks. She was warm, funny, athletic, intelligent, and had the libido of an entire division of the SAS, their wives, husbands, girlfriends, boyfriends, and house pets. She had only one flaw. Trish was a morning person. Trish had not been in Elaine’s bed the evening before. Ergo she had recently arrived from America. This likely meant that something was brewing and that a new and exciting opportunity for sexual escapades in the service of Queen and country was imminent. If that was the case, she would need her sleep; which was unlikely to happen if Trish continued to do what she was currently doing.
Elaine shivered. Trish was on top of her, supporting herself in the push up position. She lowered herself, licked Elaine’s right nipple and then rose again. She repeated the motion with the left nipple. After ten repetitions she paused for a moment and then resumed, substituting a quick, sensual suck in lieu of the lick.
“Fine, I’m bloody awake.” Elaine grabbed Trish and pushed her back onto the bed. “Since you are intent on getting right up my spout, I shall return the favor.”
“Elaine, I was busy there.” Trish made a mockery of trying to struggle away from Elaine’s grasp. Elaine slid down the length of Trish’s tan body until her lips hovered over Trish’s sex. Rather than dive in, Elaine played around the edges, her tongue tracing the perimeter of Trish’s labia, each lick drawing closer. Trish shuddered, her fingers playing in Elaine’s long, blonde hair, arranging it in a curtain that covered her own slowly bucking hips. Elaine’s tongue continued to work, coaxing Trish’s sex open like gentle sunlight coaxing a blossom to spread its petals. Trish was already on the edge of climax. Not unusual, Trish was multi-orgasmic, the trick was not getting her to come, it was building up any anticipation. Like a hurdler, the redhead liked to throw herself over the brink of each climax, and then continue to sprint towards the next. Elaine continued to tease, shifting so she could reach the head of the bed. It was always good to have a contingency plan, especially at irresponsible hours of the morning. Her hand darted under a pillow and emerged with a vibrator. The toy was smooth, with a glossy gold finish. Trish gasped as Elaine added the toy to her teasing. Tracing it slowly around Trish’s sex, while allowing her tongue to delve deeper. Trish started gasping, her body arching in preparation for an epic climax. As she shuddered in release, Elaine depressed the hidden stud on the vibrator’s smooth surface.
“Elaine!” Trish gasped as she came. “I can’t move!”
“I know.” Elaine smiled down. A wave of glittering gold was rushing over Trish’s tan skin. “Say hello and pip-pip to the gild-do, a smashing little variation on X’s golden gun technology.”
There was no point in waiting for a reply. Trish lay unmoving on the bed, every inch of her skin covered in glistening gold. Elaine leaned down and kissed, Trish’s unmoving lips, her tongue exploring the frozen contours. Her fingers traced Trish’s wonderfully stiff nipples.
“A few hours of being held in a state of climax should keep you busy.” Elaine cuddled up to Trish’s unmoving, glistening body. The gold was cool against her skin, but quickly warmed up. “As for me, I am going back to sleep; I shall unfreeze you at a decent hour and then we can continue what you started.”
With that Elaine pulled the covers up over both of them and closed her eyes, within moments she was asleep, her features caught up in a small, satisfied smile, her arms wrapped around her unmoving, golden, lover.
* * *
“Honeypenny, what the devil is happening?” Elaine gaped. Honeypenny was slumped at her desk. Her clothes, rather than respectable tweed, had been replaced with deep black. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Elaine’s eye took in the rest of the office. There were two possible explanations for Honeypenny’s obvious emotional distress. The first was that the two villainesses, Allotta Tongue and Buxomly Maid, who normally decorated Honeypenny’s office - they had been trapped by their own golden, statue, technology on a previous mission – were no longer decorating the office. That alone would be enough to upset MMM’s secretary. Why weren’t they there?
“What happened to MMM?” Elaine asked, a stab of fear piercing her heart. MMM was a perverted, peeping tom of the first order, who excelled at blackmail to ensure funding for his department, and sweetly tolerated the particular quirks of his spies and staff. Usually because he was secretly watching. He was however, an ancient, decrepit old man, was it possible that he had finally observed an erotic excess that stopped his aged heart?
“He’s in the hospital Miss Blonde.” Honeypenny sniffed and wiped a tear. “He’s in a coma and the doctors don’t think he’s going to pull through.”
“His knighthood.” Elaine connected the dots. “He doggered the bloody Queen, didn’t he.”
“While she was changing.” Honeypenny nodded. “He was in the wardrobe and caught a real eyeful.”
“It is how he always wanted to go.” Elaine managed a sad smile. “With a smile on his face, an eyeful of secretly observed blart, and presumably his hand down his pants. I take it you have removed your golden decorations for a suitable period of mourning.”
“No.” Honeypenny hissed, fresh tears pooling around her eyes and then rolling down her cheeks. “It… Its MMMs replacement. She had them removed. All of them.”
“His replacement?” Elaine started. “It really is that serious. Who is it.”
“Mary Whitebread.” Honeypenny whispered. “Elaine. What are we to do?”
“Elaine.” Trish said. Elaine’s mouth hung open, her face frozen in shocked incredulity. Trish waved a hand in front of her face to try and elicit a reaction. In escalation she launched a sharp kick to Elaine’s shin. Elaine remained unmoving. Rolling her eyes slightly, Trish stepped in front of Elaine and, jumping up and down, lifted her top and displayed her enticingly bouncing breasts.
“Mary Whitebread!” Trish’s nipples had worked their magic, breaking Elaine’s shock induced paralysis. “Are you telling me that the most bloody, puritanical, celibate, busybody in the whole of Great Britain has been handed control of our department!”
“She can’t be that bad.” Trish caught the expression on Elaine’s face. “Or can she?”
“Trish. This cannot be understated.” Elaine managed from between clenched teeth. “This is a woman who is against everything that we stand for. Gay marriage, premarital sex, marital sex, oral sex, anal sex, masturbation, bisexuality, heterosexuality, homosexuality, vibrators, dildos, tofu – you know, meat substitutes; birth control, sex education, sex in the general and specific, Monty Python’s Life of Brian, pornography, page three girls, page two girls, and the gratuitous use of the words, Tom, Dick, Harry and Roger!”
“She wants to see you Miss Blonde.” With an extreme effort Honeypenny pulled herself back together and extended her hand towards the door to MMM’s office. MMM’s former office, Elaine corrected herself with no small amount of pain.
Elaine pushed through the double doors. The office was so familiar, yet so different. Previously there had been various villainesses, frozen in various poses and methods, their own petrifying plans turned against them. All of them had been removed. The cabinet that normally held MMM’s television and seemingly endless stacks of pornographic DVDs was open, but its shelves held several questionable looking trophies from uptight organizations and various account ledgers and binders. The portrait of the Queen still stared down disapprovingly. Elaine wondered if Mary had bothered to look closely at it. The canvas was double sided, the opposite side featuring a starkly naked, dorsal view of the Queen, including the artistic speculation of a crudely tattooed anchor on the right buttock.
“Miss Blonde. So good to finally meet you.” Mary rose from behind the desk and came around to offer Elaine a cold, dry hand. Elaine could not help noticing the completely unnatural way the woman walked. The region from her collar bones to her knees remained stiff and entirely unmoving, as if held under unyielding tension. Her blonde hair was immaculately styled, and her features would be pretty if there had been even the barest hint of sincerity or warmth in her greeting. Elaine’s elbows itched with the desire to smash Mary’s Whitebread’s teeth so far down her throat that the next time she wished to offer up that patently false smile, she would be forced to lift her skirts.
“Smashing.” Elaine managed to keep her reply verbal rather than physical. “I am to understand that you have a mission for me.”
“Yes. How perceptive of you.” Mary said with a smoothly practiced condescension. “My predecessor was exceedingly lax in ensuring those arrested by his operatives received proper legal considerations. I have of course made great efforts in rectifying this completely unforgivable lapse, and you will pleased to know that will be handing over several of these suspects to the appropriate authorities.”
Elaine caught herself at the last possible moment, her cocked elbow failing utterly to break, or even connect with Mary’s jaw. The reason for her distraction was manifest. Trish’s boss, Felicia Biter had pushed through the door. Mary gaped. Felicia was worth a gape or two. Perhaps three. Four if you were inclined that way. In deference to the somber situation of MMM’s condition, Felicia wore a black pillbox hat, with a lace veil that shrouded her dark eyes. It was the only item of clothing that she was wearing. While MMM was a peeping tom, his American counterpart was an unbridled exhibitionist, who exposed her lush, tanned body at every single opportunity.
“What do you think you are doing? That is utterly obscene and entirely unacceptable.” Mary managed, averting her eyes from Felicia’s body. That is illegal and I shall have you arrested for indecent exposure.”
“You are certainly welcome to try.” Felicia produced an ID and displayed it. Mary looked as if she were about to faint away. Elaine merely nodded. It was not often that you saw diplomatic credentials of that caliber, not to mention someone producing them from that particular location. A lack of pockets did not seem to hamper Felicia in that regard.
“You are my American counterpart then.” Trying to regain the upper hand when you are completely unable to look at another person was difficult, but with her nose in the air and a snide sniff, Mary made a valiant effort. Felicia was utterly unperturbed, except for that fact that as of yet Mary had made no effort to check her out. Such lapses were almost entirely foreign to Felicia. Elaine decided that if Mary was not willing to check Felicia out, she would.
“Now Elaine.” Mary interrupted as Elaine was in serious contemplation of Felicia’s peaked right nipple. “We will be handing over several suspects to the Americans; I require that you and Miss Halliday and…”
Elaine gaped, while Mary paled and then turned an outraged shade of red. Taking a page from Felecia’s book, Trish had surreptitiously slipped out of her clothes and was standing next to Felicia. They made a lovely pair, both had beautiful Californian tans, with no sign of there ever having been a swimsuit between their skin and the sun. Trish’s lithe figure, with its toned muscles and Felicia’s more robust, padded curves. Both had recently enjoyed bikini waxes. Felicia’s sex was smooth and hairless, while Trish had maintained a thin strip of hair that advertised that her red hair was entirely natural.
“Here are my credentials.” Trish bent over and smiled at Mary from between her own legs. She continued the stretch until it appeared that she might demonstrate that a particular, common epithet was not only possible, but highly enjoyable. She straightened easily and held out a card.
“You were saying.” Elaine prodded. It took several long moments for Mary to regain her voice.
“You are to accompany the transfer of Allotta Tongue and Buxomly Maid to the Americans. You will be flying on commercial flight…”
“Commercial flight 69.” Felicia supplied helpfully, perching herself on the corner of the desk and crossing her legs in a motion that would not have looked out of place in a Basic Instinct interrogation. “I was going to book you on flight 96, but then you would owe me one.”
“You will have first class to yourself.” Mary had developed a twitch. Elaine could almost read the uptight woman’s mind. She wanted to remove Felicia from her desk and then disinfect the corner in case any hint of naked bottom contamination remained. “I trust that you will be able to accomplish this without incident.”
“Affirmative.” Elaine considered the situation for a moment. “Has Allotta been allowed to make contact with her legal representation?”
“Yes, of course, why wouldn’t she.” Mary said sharply. “Really Miss Blonde, you are your department have been rather cavalier with the legal rights of those you have arrested.”
“Does this transfer of information include the date, time and flight that she is to transported on?” Elaine’s elbow itched.
“I should think so.” Mary waved a hand dismissively. “After all, it is hardly a matter for secrecy.”
“Elaine, you should consider seeing X for equipment.” Felicia interjected before Elaine exploded in what would have quickly become a career ending beating of her immediate supervisor. “I am sure that she would be happy to see you.”
“Excellent, a trip down to the labs.” Mary managed to make it sound like it had been her idea in the first place. “I am sure that they will be able to adequately equip you for what is likely to be a simple task.”
As Trish and Felicia headed out, Mary made a short gesture that brought Elaine up short.
“Horrible people.” Mary’s face wrinkled in a disgusted moue. “I am certainly pleased that you did not engage in such base behaviors. I thought that they might begin fornicating right there. Now, to business. My predecessor had several important documents that I have not been able to locate, do you have any idea where he might have stored them?”
“He never confided that in me.” Elaine paused. It had started. Mary was trying to undo whatever blackmail items MMM had put in place, or co-opt them for her own devices. Well, that was not cricket, and certainly not worthy of an answer. Or rather worthy of a correct answer. “I think he might have hidden them behind the portrait of the Queen, God bless her.”
“Excellent, you’ll go far with us.” Mary smiled with cold condescension. “Well let’s not keep our top scientists waiting.”
Continues in Part 2