Hoo Line and Siner

Hook

The thump of the base permeated every corner of the club, bouncing off the fashionable exposed concrete and rattling the expensive-looking plush chairs scattered throughout the room. On the stage, a stripper took a bow, cheekily collecting the remaining dollar bills from the floor and from her thong. It was a Monday night, and the club was neither full nor completely empty, a regular smattering of men sitting nearer to the stage: Shift workers for whom it was the weekend, truckers, and men for whom the strip club was a nightly pursuit.

As for me? With my thrift-store blue jeans, worn loafers and rumpled button up, I could be mistaken for a trucker trying to dress up a little, but my reason for being here was a little different.

***

The plush chairs of commander Jackson's office still smelled of cigarettes, despite smoking indoors being banned by the FBI over two decades ago.

I had arrived five minutes early to our meeting, and it was now twenty past. I had gone through all my unread emails and was resorting to getting ahead on my performance self evaluation, even though it wasn't due for another month.

Finally, the door opened and Jackson walked in. A holdover from the cloak and dagger days, he looked like an old spy from central casting: Grizzled lines carved deeply into his face and a chin that could split the atom. I stood up again, closing my laptop as I did, and he gesured for me to sit down.

"Agent Cristoph," he said, "Let me be the first to commend you on the success of Operation Marathon."

"I couldn't have done it without the organization's extensive support, sir."

He nodded. "We're ready to send you on your next mission, but it's going to be a little... unorthodox"

***

I picked a chair close to the stage and watched the changeover. The last dancer left and a new dancer walked on wearing a beige satin robe and red six-inch heels. "Hit Me Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears came on and she smiled and started to play with her robe, opening it slightly and smirking at the audience as she did. Finally, at "show me" she threw the robe off, revealing a blood-red lingirie set. Her legs were strong and toned, her stomach was flat, and her large breasts were almost hanging out of her bra.

She crouched down and crawled up to the stage, rising onto her knees once she got to the front and gyrating while bouncing up and down. She put her finger into her mouth, making eye contact with each male audience member in turn - my heart quickened when her eyes met mine. As she looked at me, she pulled her finger down to her cleavage and tugged at the center strap of her bra. I couldn't help but look down hungrily. When I looked back up, she had a smug, victorious smirk on her face. She slowly crawled to my side of the stage, her ass in bouncing up and down as she moved. She was looking straight at me the entire time.

***

The pictures of the five agents were on the table, along with glamor shots of strippers that looked like they were taken from a porn promo.

"All of the undercover agents just disappeared?" I asked.

"Along with twenty other men that we know of. We believe the club uses some sort of sexual scheme to string them along and move them to another location, where they're imprisoned."

"Sexual scheme?"

"Witnesses report the disappeared men becoming more and more engaged with a dancer, who eventually takes them to a back room, and that is the last time they are seen. We aren't sure if they're drugged or otherwise subdued."

"I see. Have you tried sending in female agents, or gay ones?"

Jackson looked a little uncomfortable, an eerie look for a man of his gravitas. "This is where we wanted to talk to you. Any women or gay men we send in undercover can't seem to get very far or identify what is happening. Even if they feign interest, the dancers don't bite. It seems we need the genuine article"

"You want... someone who will get horny"

"Yes, but ideally do so while keeping his wits about him. You'll have hidden weapons and trackers, and an extraction team ready, but it's crucial you watch out for any attempt to subdue you, while also exhibiting genuine interest in a dancer so you can get into the back room and see what's happening"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

***

I readied my money, starting with one dollar bills. It was important to show interest in the dancer, and the best way to show interest in a stripper was with cold hard cash. As she got up to me, I put three ones down on the stage. The stripper gave me a disbelieving, almost pitying look and swept them up, stashing them in the shoulder strap of her bra. She looked back at me and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

I had a budget, of course, and I was ready to roll big. I pulled out a ten-dollar bill and lay it on the stage. The stripper smiled and reached down slowly, letting her breasts brush the floor of the stage, before picking the bill up and passing it through the center of her cleavage, smoldering at me as she did so.

The mission required that I keep her attention, so I set down two more ten-dollar bills. She smiled more suggestively and licked her lips, then lay down on her side facing me, and gesured for me to put the bills in her bra.

Henitantly, my hands shaking a bit, I reached over and crumpled the bills into her cleavage. As I did, she grabbed my hand and pressed it into her breasts, letting me have a good feel. When I withdrew my hand she propped herself up and leaned forward, her face inches from mine. I could feel her hot breath on my lips.

"Hey big spender," she said, her voice husky and low. "Got anything bigger?"

A jolt of excitement went through my whole body. I didn't know if I should spend all my cash on the first dancer, but it seemed like the right way to show that I was hooked. Also, she was inches away from my face and I had to exercise all my self control not to lunge at her.

Instead, I put down all five of my twenties. She nodded approvingly and started bouncing up and down in front of me, her hand cupping her breast. I put down a fifty, then another.

She leaned forward and put a hand on my shoulder, her lips grazing my ear, "Is that all you got?"

I was breathing heavily and my heart was pounding in my chest. I hoped this was the right thing for the mission, because I was all in. I put my last $300 on the stage. She smiled at me, half pityingly and half invitingly, and then gesured to the steps leading up to the stage, "come on up."

The skeezy DJ voice came on, "Looks like we got a high roller special here! Let's see what treat this big spender is in for!"

I walked onto the stage, half dazed. She was standing now and strode towards me confidently. She ran her hand on my cheek as she gyrated to the music, looking straight into my eyes. She turned to face the audience and started grinding on me, her ass swaying side to side over my crotch. She then leaned forward, giving the audience a good look at her cleavage, all while pressing her ass deeper onto me. Finally she turned back to me and squatted down, her entire body brushing on mine as she did. I could hardly think straight - I forgot I was even onstage.

She got up and walked behind me, holding onto my chest as if I were a dance pole. She put her arms around me and grabbed my chest while pressing herself into my back. She then leaned into me and whispered, "meet me after this dance with $1000 cash and I'll show you how far this rabbit hole goes."

I felt a flush of heat rise from my cock through my chest. I was in. The mission was a go.

Line

After the dance was over, a trucker came up to me and asked, "hey man, what did she say to you up there? Your dick almost jumped out your pants for a second."

"Uh," I said, and then I sort of mumbled without forming coherent words. The trucker looked at me for a second, confused, then walked on.

ATM. I needed $1000 cash.

I was able to find the one strip club ATM and I fumbled for my FBI debit card to get the cash. I punched in the code and then realized there was a $500 withdrawal limit. Without thinking, I pulled out my personal card. Was there a reimbursement program for strip club expenses? I doubted it.

Once I collected the money, I spotted the dancer walking out from backstage. She was wearing a T shirt that had been modified into a crop top and incredibly short cutoff jeans, and still had on her red stilettos from before.

I walked up to her, "Hey," I said. "It's me, from before."

She sized me up and down. "Hey, hon. You got the dough?"

I nodded.

She gestured for me to follow her and opened a side door near the stage. I walked in and was greeted with a corridor leading downwards.

Her ass swayed as she walked down the corridor, the cutoff jeans barely containing her thighs. She led me into a dimly lit room deeper under the club. The thump of the base was still discernable, but muffled by the floors above. Why did this club have a room so deep underground? The room was well appointed, with a sofa, a king sized bed (thoughts!) and a St Andrew's cross in the corner (I once again tried to get my mind back to the task at hand). At the other end, a set of heavy double doors led elsewhere.

She stopped and turned to face me, resting her hand comfortably on my thigh. Without thinking, I reached up and gripped her thigh as well. She looked directly in my eyes, stopping for a second before talking, her breath slowly synchronized with mine.

"Well," she said, her voice husky and dripping with honey. "First things first, set the cash down on the table." It was only then that I noticed a side table at about waist height.

I crouched down awkwardly and set the money down.

Her red lips curled into a smile that seemed almost smug. "Now, then. We're going to need to move elsewhere for the... full experience. A car should be here pretty soon."

This, of course, was what I was primed to expect. It was the reason for the GPS trackers in my phone and on every piece of my clothing.

She put her hand on my chest. "There's one last thing I'll need you to do, and I think we'll both enjoy it"

My pulse quickened.

"I'm afraid street clothes aren't allowed from this point on. You're going to need to shed everything you're wearing and put on a robe," she gestured to a pair of satin robes hanging from the wall, another detail I'd missed.

"Uh," I'd have to think fast to get out of this - I couldn't back out now, but the GPS broadcasters were my last line of defense.

"Don't worry," she said. "Sometimes men are a little... Shy." She laughed. "I'm here to help you along." At this point she moved a little away from me and started playing with her shirt, holding it so it cupped her breasts, showing the shape and the nipple clearly, and lifting them up a bit. She was definitely not wearing a bra. "Tell you what. You take off your shirt, and I'll take off mine. It'll be a start."

I looked on hungrily. I could, of course, do without a shirt. If this would be enough to appease her, maybe it was worth it, for the mission. And it didn't hurt that she was right in front of me, slowly lifting I top and revealing the bottoms of her breasts, then pressing it onto them, compresssing them into her body.

"I might even let you touch them," she cooed.

Well, for the mission, I thought, and began unbuttoning my shirt. She walked over and helped me with the last couple of buttons, her breath blowing on my chest. She then pulled herself tight towards me and pulled the shirt straight up and off my body while pressing herself into me. She pulled back and played with her shirt while looking me straight in the eye, raising it a bit and flashin a nipple, then lowering it, till she finally threw it off, letting her breasts hang loose.

"I did promise you could touch them, didn't I?" She said, her finger lighty circling her nipple. "Fair is fair." She stepped towards me.

I gingerly raised my hands and played with her breasts. She arched her back performatively. It was a show she put on, of course, but it was still hit home. I reached to kiss her.

She pulled back."Alright, the next part: We need to get rid of those pants." She began unbuttoning her cutoffs, showing a hint of the red lingirie bottoms underneath. She danced around to the distant beat, swaying her hips as she slowly pulled the cutoffs down.

Of course, taking off my pants seemed like a worse idea. I would be close to being trackerless, leaving my phone and wallet behind, and the knife sown into the fold of my pants would also be gone.

She turned away from me and backed up towards me, her ass closer and closer to my crotch. Close enough that I could feel her heat through the pants. She brushed up against me briefly and moved forward.

"Just think how good it would feel to be free of those things," Her ass once again brushed my crotch, more forcefully this time. "We could just grind on each other, underwear on underwear, no jeans in the way"

I moved towards her and she let me grind for a second before moving forward again.

"All you need is to take them off"

Well, I wasn't going to proceed with the mission unless I took off my pants. I awkwardly kicked my shoes off and removed the pants hastily and clumsily. The whole time she kept wriggling and dancing right in front of me. Finally I stood up, my hard cock showing through my underwear.

She looked back and smiled. "Good", she cooed, and moved backwards towards me, grabbing my hands and putting them on her waist. She started to grind slowly, gently, then started to press her ass on my crotch ever so slightly more. She moved her ass up and down, throwing her head back so my face was buried in her hair. After a couple moment, when I felt like I may be close to exploding, she moved forward and turned to face me.

"Alright," she said, her fingers already in the waistband of her underwear. "There's one last thing, and I think you know what it is."

Crouching down smoothly, she removed her panties, revealing a perfectly smooth pussy. She turned her back towards me and ground on me again with her bare ass, moving my hands to brush her pussy lips, then she turned around and, pressing into me, crouched down, her tits gliding over my entire body as she did. Finally, she was on her knees, lips almost kissing the tip of my dick through my underwear. His cock jolted and became even harder than I thought possible.

Her voice was almost a whisper, but was completely audible. "Take them off so I can taste it. I want your cock in my mouth"

I tried to do mission calculations, to think about what I needed or if I should back out, but her mouth was right there and the only think I could think of was her putting it on my bare cock. I pulled my underwear down and she pulled it the rest of the way, taking it off smoothly, looking at and breathing on my cock the whole time.

Without looking away, she tossed it aside and took the tip of my cock in her mouth, her tongue making circles around it. She played with it slowly, making circles faster and slower, then unexpectedly pulled my entire cock in and sucked on it intensely for about 10 seconds. She pulled her mouth away, kissed the tip, and then licked it slightly. She angled her head to look at me and said, "If you follow me, there'll be a lot more of that." Her hot breath still hitting the tip of my cock, causing it to quiver.

"Put on your robe, the car is waiting"

Sinker

The car had an odd, likely custom layout. The two seats were facing each other, with me facing forward and her facing back, towards me. We both wore satin robes and nothing underneath. Her robe shifted slightly as she buckled in, revealing her long, svelte legs.

The windows were tinted but not opaque. I strained to look out the window to see if I could identify any landmarks. As I did, I felt her leg brush against mine slightly and look at her. She shifted her robe, revealing her breast, and brought her finger up and down slowly, poking it into her cleavage and then sucking it, all while looking straight into my eyes. I should've been looking out the window to get a sense of landmarks, but I was entranced. She opened the bottom of the robe a bit more, almost but not quite revealing her pussy again, then bent down and ran her hands over her legs while her breasts showed fully dangling through the robe's cleavage.

I should've been looking at the windows, but it was hard to tear my eyes away. My cock was still hard as stone at the memory of her sucking on it, and as she moved her fingers back across her breasts and sucked suggestively on them again, looking straight into my face, I felt as if I'd almost explode just from watching her.

The car slowed down to a stop. "Welcome to the compound," she said, and unbuckled her self.

With some difficulty, I unbuckled and followed her. The "compound" was a giant mansion seemingly in the middle of nowhere. She gestured for me to follow her through the giant entrance doors.

Inside was a well-appointed living room with plush couches all around. Beautiful women were sitting on the couches, all wearing (just?) the satin robes I was. Some of them were sitting with men who were all looking at their respective women as if they were the center of the world. At the center of the room was a large oak desk, behind which sat a dark haired woman in a satin gown.

The stripper who brought me in walked to the large desk, "got an intake."

The woman behind the desk handed her a key, "room 15."

I followed my stripper in a daze, her ass swaying side to side in the satin robe, as she led me to room 15. She unlocked the door and gestured for me to go in.

Inside was a giant king bed in an old victorian style. On the walls were various straps, whips and fuzzy ropes hanging from iron pegs. She closed and locked the door, then shrugged off the satin robe. "Well, we don't need these anymore."

It didn't escape my notice that I was locked in a room in a remote victorian mansion, with no idea where I was. A bit of fear started to set in, and I hesitated.

"What's the problem?" She walked towards me, "a little shy all of the sudden?"

She opened my robe and ran her hands along my chest, then further down towards my still hard cock. She moved her face inches from mine, so close our lips were almost touching but not quite, and looked deeply, intesnely into my eyes. She grabbed my balls and started to play with them casually as she talked with me. "Everyone's a little afraid," she said, now running a finger along my shaft. "You just have to let go. You have to give in." She was playing with my cock the whole time, now rubbing the tip, as she looked directly into my eyes. "Get on the bed and I'll show you why you came this far."

My breathing quickened. I couldn't think straight, but I had the sense that getting on the bed was incredibly dangerous. I'd played into her plans so far and didn't really know where I'd stop.

"Do you need some convincing?" her voice was low and husky a she moved even closer, her breasts pressing against my chest. Without thinking I closed my arms around her waist. She leaned in and put her lips directly into my ear. She breathed in and out and then moaned into my ear as she dug her fingernails into my back. "Maybe you need a reminder of what my mouth can do for you," she whispered and started biting and licking my earlobe.

"Get on the bed for me," she whispered between bites, "I'll show you more than you can imagine." She was grinding slowly, her hips against my still-hard cock. "I want to taste your cock again, but you have to get on the bed."

I could barely think. The memory of feeling her lips around my cock filled my mind as she started kissing down my neck. She went up again and moaned in my ear, "you want to get onto the bed."

And I did want to. I couldn't stop thinking about how good it would feel to get onto the bed. There was no helping it. I turned and climbed onto the bed. She climbed after me, smiling victoriously, and put her lips against the tip of my cock.