A by-the-Rules Buy

"This is Special Agent Alexandra Villablanca, here in Room 2190 of Everspire Tower. The current time is," her eyes darted to a nearby computer monitor, "9:58 AM, September the 6th. I affirm that everything I am about to say is true to the best of my knowledge and ability."

Behind the camera - one of them, anyways - Alexandra's colleague, Special Agent Naomi North, nodded approvingly. They had the room - a modestly-sized office with a view overlooking the downtown core - to themselves, which was a small mercy. The blinds had been drawn, giving some modicum of privacy, though the three cameras mounted to tripods in a semi-circle around Alexandra made mockery of that.

"And my name is Special Agent Naomi North, and I also affirm that everything is state is true to the best of my knowledge," mimicked Naomi, stepping into frame. She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Alright, Agent Villablanca, are you ready to begin?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Naomi," Alexandra replied, losing some sense of formality in her wryness. "Let's get this over with."

It was one of the more unpleasant aspects of any undercover controlled purchase, and one the Bureau did not exactly go to lengths to advertise: the strip-search. Before making any illicit purchase of a narcotic, the 'buyer' needed to be searched, to be able to prove that it wasn't an elaborate frame-job. In the past, it had been done only to confidential informants and cooperating witnesses - in other the words, the already-arrested criminals who did not exactly have the most credibility in the courtroom. And then one particularly-crafty lawyer had managed to discredit an FBI Agent in a high-profile trial, so all of a sudden the Bureau had to change up its playbook. No longer was a sworn affidavit sufficient evidence, no, now the prosecutor had to be able to demonstrate - beyond any reasonable doubt - that the drugs had come from the Defendant.

"Alright, Lex, please remove your jacket," requested Naomi, unintentionally referring to Alexandra by her usual nickname. Lex found something strange about being stripped-searched by her best friend from Quantico, but that was the reality of the situation. "For the benefit of the record, all garments will be searched on camera #3".

Camera #3 was positioned over a table - glass like all the room's furnishings - and zoomed-in on its surface. Lex, still in plain view of two other tripod-mounted cameras, deliberately unbuttoned her jacket and handed it to Naomi. She was dressed in an outfit befitting her cover, that of an up-and-coming businesswoman working in the downtown financial core. Which meant a proper skirt suit, heels, and all the accessories that accompanied that. As someone who drifted far closer to the tomboy end on the 'sliding spectrum of femininity' Lex was not exactly thrilled with the role. Still, this was exactly the kind of break she was looking for in her career, so she'd already swallowed her pride.

Lex stood still for several seconds while Naomi - her hands already gloved in blue latex - began pawing through her outfit, showing off the interior of every pocket for the camera. It was slow and not particularly interesting work, but it needed to be done. Nodding with satisfaction, Naomi neatly folded the jacket and placed it on the far end of the table, though still within the camera's frame of view.

"Your top," Naomi instructed next, pointing with one hand to the lace camisole Lex had on. Lex slipped the straps over her shoulders with dainty brushes of her fingers, before handing the soft fabric to her partner.

"And the skirt." Lex reddened a little, but only just. She was far too comfortable with her body to be embarrassed by being undressed, though there was definitely something vaguely exhibitionist about doing this before a panoptical of cameras. Even if the footage was destined to sit untouched in the evidence locker. Her fingers fiddled with the nearly-invisible zipper behind her back, which slid down with a barely-audible whirr. She gingerly stepped out of it, balancing somewhat-precariously on unfamiliar stilettos, before handing the garment over to Naomi.

The skirt didn't have any pockets - most of her wardrobe had been chosen to minimize the number of places anything could possibly be hidden - but damned if Naomi wasn't taking her sweet time running her fingers over the fabric for the camera.

"Alright. Agent Villablanca, would you please remove your bra," 'asked' Naomi, her tone becoming slightly more formal again at the intimacy of the request. Another black-lace bit of lingerie that felt strange to a woman more used to sports bras than anything. Lex reached around her back and undid the small clasp, handing it by a strap to Naomi.

Lex had to admit, it felt a little weird, standing in nothing but her undergarments and a pair of heels, not daring to move lest she drift out of frame (and have the whole thing be for naught). She didn't bother covering her breasts, just let her arms rest loosely by her sides. She wasn't all that uncomfortable, though the office's air conditioning was going to become a problem fairly soon.

"Very good, Lex. Your heels, please."

Those, at lease, she was eager to be rid of. Lex bent down to undo the buckle strapping the heel to her ankle, handing over the pumps and wishing she'd never get them back. Anything more than kitten heels caused her calves to ache, and the prospect of spending hours on end in the Bureau-approved wardrobe was not exactly thrilling her.

"And the panties. Stockings too, please." Her final articles of clothing were removed with the same lack of ceremony. There was a small table behind Lex, which she rested against as she slid each lace-trimmed stocking down her legs. Legs which she'd had to carefully shave before this assignment began, to her own annoyance. She was petrified of tearing the stockings, given that they felt like they had the integrity of wax paper, but she managed to hand them over without ruining either. Her black panties - the only article of clothing which had come from her own bedroom - were practically torn off in comparison.

Naomi continued searching her clothes with her usual, unhurried pace, leaving Lex to focus on the growing pit in her stomach while the last articles were frisked and folded. Finally, Naomi redirected her attention from the table to her partner.

"I hereby certify that there are no narcotics of any nature on any of Agent Villablanca's clothing. Now, Agent, I will confirm that there are no drugs on your person. Do you consent to this search?"

"I do," affirmed Lex, as if she had any real choice in the matter.

"Very good." Naomi strolled behind another one of the tripods. "Please lean forward and run your fingers through your hair."

Lex groaned inwardly but dutifully complied, taking a half-step forward and bending at the waist. Her hair - short and black - didn't exactly leave much volume for concealment, but the procedures had to be followed, regardless. She ran her fingers through her hair for the better part of a minute, combing from everything conceivable angle, until Naomi was satisfied.

"That's enough, Lex. Please turn around and put your hands behind your back." Lex groaned, outwardly this time, but complied, turning her bare ass to Naomi, and listening to the telltale sound of clinking metal that soon filled her ears.

"This rule is stupid," muttered Lex, quietly enough not to be picked up by any of the cameras' microphones.

"Oh, definitely," Naomi agreed, cheerily, even as she wasted no time in handcuffing Lex's wrists behind her back. She pressed against her partner's back. "Gotta make sure you don't try any sleight of hand tricks, right?"

"Just get this over with," Lex grumbled, wincing slightly as the steel began digging into her skin. Naomi might have one of the cheeriest personalities of any Agent she'd ever encountered, but damned if the woman had a bone of mercy in her body.

"Turn around and face the camera," Naomi instructed. "And say 'ah'."

The taste of latex soon filled Lex's mouth, Naomi's gloved hands quickly covered in saliva. At least that part wasn't all that (physically) uncomfortable, just weird.

"I certify that there is nothing illicit in Agent Villablanca's mouth," Naomi said for the camera, even as her fingers remained between Lex's lips. Lex rolled her eyes. "Agent Villablanca, please turn around and bend over the table."

Lex complied, shuffling about slightly so that her breasts pressed against the table's surface with the minimum amount of discomfort. Because she was going to have more than enough discomfort in the minutes to come.

With no other noise but the faint whirring of the AC, Lex had no trouble picking up the sound of a jar's lid being twisted off. At least the Bureau had officially allowed some sort of lubricants to be used for these searches, though only after great internal debate. After a relative eternity, Lex felt one of Naomi's hands plant itself between her shoulderblades, keeping her pinned to the table. A second later, she felt-

"Argh," Lex grunted in pain, as two of Naomi's fingers slid between her buttcheeks. Her partner was not a particularly gentle lover, it would seem.

"Don't move," instructed Naomi, sternly, as her fingers slid around Lex's asshole, deeper and shallower. She grunted again as she felt Naomi's fingers prodding around inside her anus - the woman really was being thorough - before (finally!) withdrawing with a pop.

"Stay there, I need to make sure your ass is in frame," Naomi said, as Lex's feet slipped about for purchase on the floor. Lex's hands were still cuffed behind her back, the chains clinking softly with each faint movement. "Okay, stand up and squat. Facing the camera."

Lex followed the instructions, lifting herself somewhat gracelessly off the table and turning to face her partner. To her credit, Naomi was expressing no visible schadenfreude from Lex's discomfort, though the naked Special Agent still silently vowed her revenge all the same. She squatted on her haunches, wobbling slightly without being able to use her arms for stability, knees spread horribly wide before the camera.

"And I certify that there is nothing of any sort in Agent Villablanca's anal cavity. Now, Agent Villablanca, would you please hop up on the table and spread your legs."

It wasn't fair to say that Lex was dreading this part of the search, since that would imply some measure of fear she didn't feel, but she was certainly looking forward to it the least. Her bare ass cheeks skidded along the table as she bounced up onto it, before planting her feet as far apart as she could.

While one of the cameras was still taking in the wide-shot of the office room, Naomi was clearly zooming in with one of the others, making sure the precise details of this search were framed in 4K resolution. Lex was left sitting impotently as Naomi stripped off her latex gloves - actually tossing them into an evidence bag out of an overabundance of caution - and then grabbed two more gloves from the box. Lex had had her back to the camera last time Naomi had done this; somehow seeing her partner snap the glove tight over her fingers was that much worse.

"Try not to move, Lex," Naomi instructed, as she approached. Lex distantly noted that there was no lube this time. She wasn't wet in the slightest - unlike some deviants, this wasn't her idea of a sexual fantasy - which meant that Naomi would actually have to work to part her folds.

"Alright... so far... nothing..." Naomi narrated to the camera. She was standing slightly to the side of Lex, so as not to block the shot, while her latex-covered fingers spread Lex's sensitive folds. "And... deep breath, Lex."

Lex sunk her teeth into her lower lip and curled her toes as Naomi's fingers slipped inside her for the second time that day. Two fingers probed erratically inside her vagina, as if searching for the illusive g-spot. Lex had to force herself not to moan from discomfort as Naomi's fingers grazed her inner walls, clearing making a show of it for the camera. Lex counted to a hundred in her head before giving up, trying to think of absolutely nothing until she finally felt the emptiness of Naomi withdrawing from her.

"Mmff," was all the noise Lex allowed herself to make, as Naomi spread her folds for the last time. Finally the search, with all its unnecessary rigor, was completed, as Naomi began peeling off her second pair of gloves.

"Alright, Agent Villablanca, we just need to receive confirmation that the suspect is in motion, and then we're good to go," Naomi said, even as the cameras continued to roll.

"Great," Lex replied, not exactly enthusiastically. "Can I get dressed now?"

"Sure thing," Naomi answered, her voice as sunny as a summer's day again. As if she hadn't spent the past twenty minutes poking and prodding her partner into various states of undress. "Alright, camera three, I am handing Naomi her clothes again. Oh, and removing her handcuffs, too."

Lex rolled her eyes as Naomi hurriedly undid the handcuffs. She really wanted to rub her wrists where the metal had dug into her skin, but she didn't want to appear 'soft' on camera even more. The handcuffs were hurriedly returned to Naomi's holster, which itself was concealed beneath a loose-fitted blouse and a slightly-oversized jacket. Naomi herself had a forth camera on her person, concealed on her jacket, which was would continue to track Lex for the duration of the assignment.

Piece-by-piece, Lex's clothing was returned to her. She made a show of not hurrying to put everything back on, lest she appear mortified before the camera. So her undergarments, pantyhose, skirt, top, and jacket were all put on with the unhurriedness she would display in her own apartment, even as the cameras continued to track her for any discrepancy in the official report. Naomi handed her a comb with which to fix her hair, while Lex checked her makeup in the butt-cheek-imprinted glass top of the table. Thankfully, she hadn't been wearing much on her face, and Naomi's search of her mouth hadn't messed up her lipstick.

"All dressed?" Naomi asked, once Lex finished tugging down her skirt as low as it would go (which was not low at all).

"Yup."

"Great! Kneel down and put your hands on your head."

"Seriously?" Lex wondered, aloud, despite herself.

"Yup! Can't have you slipping things onto your person between now and the buy, can we?" Lex exhaled loudly through her nostrils, before dropping to her knees before camera #2. Her fingers laced together behind her head, and she crossed her ankles unthinkingly, as if she was the subject of an arrest drill. "Back straight, Lex!"

It was a long, long forty-five minutes before their target was finally where he needed to be. Only then - with her knees aching from the stress position and her patience tested by Naomi's insistence that she keep her chin up - did they finally receive the go-ahead to make the buy.

"Alright, Lex, showtime!" Naomi declared, excitedly, as Lex pulled herself to her feet. "I'll follow you down to the food court, where the other plainclothes will have everything under surveillance. Let's not give the defense anything to object to."

(Twenty minutes later).

"This is Special Agent Alexandra Villablanca, again in Room 2190, and the current time is... 11:21 AM, Pacific. I completed the purchase from the buyer, exchanging $480 for a zip-lock bag of pills, as other supporting evidence will demonstrate. These were the only objects I received from the seller, and have not yet been lab tested. I am removing them from my jacket's inner pocket now."

With two fingers, Lex carefully extracted the zip-lock bag from her suit jacket, holding up a small bag filled with what she sincerely hoped were the tainted hallucinogens flooding the city's underground. Without straying out-of-focus Lex dropped the bagged pills into a much-larger transparent evidence bag, which she quickly sealed, and signed with a black marker.

"Excellent job, Agent Villablanca," Naomi congratulated, beaming practically from ear to ear. This would boost her career almost as much as Lex's. "Now, as per Bureau regulations, we need to ensure that you are not concealing any additional contraband you may or may not have received from the suspect. Please remove your jacket."