Amanda Cia Agent

This chapter includes heavy non-consent, coercion, and pervasive humiliation. If those elements don't appeal to you, you may prefer one of the excellent stories found in the Literotica Top Lists.

This story is a fantasy. The author does not condone any real-world nonconsensual touching or sexual activity.

Thanks to HeyAll for his helpful feedback.

CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia, May 2006

Amada breathed a sigh of relief as Dr. Miller detached the polygraph sensors from her fingers and removed the blood pressure cuff. Dr. Miller had grilled her on some embarrassing aspects of her sexuality, such as her affection for lingerie. She'd never before told anyone about stripping in front of Monsignor or the spankings she'd received.

She realized Miller was removing the respiration sensor from her abdomen, and she leaned back to give him access. He then retrieved the second sensor from beneath her armpits.

"OK, Amanda, let's move to the exam room."

She knew she'd grown wet during the test, and as she rose, she checked her seat cushion. Her arousal had faded but her panties were still damp. Her skirt was thin but she was reassured to see nothing had soaked through.

Miller saw her checking. "Did you become aroused during the polygraph?"

There was no point trying to mislead him. She just nodded.

"Which part of the story was it? The lingerie? The spankings? Fucking Professor Foster?

She clasped her hands together tightly. "Pretty much all of it."

He tilted his head. "What about physical exams? Do they excite you?"

"Yes," she stammered, "they do."

"What aspect excites you?"

She looked away as warmth crept across her cheeks. "The doctor looking at me while I'm wearing only my bra and panties."

"Just like when you took off your dress for Monsignor."

"Yes." She hesitated.

"Go ahead," he prodded.

She interlaced her fingers and twisted her arms. "Or letting the doctor see my bare breasts."

"Ah. And what else?"

She looked at the carpet.

He put a finger beneath her chin and tilted it upward. "What else?"

She reddened further. "Showing the doctor my vagina," she whispered.

"I see. Ever have an orgasm during a physical?"

Two years earlier, she'd had a pelvic exam at Student Health. She'd requested a female doctor, but none were available. Her sexual response to the exam had been so shameful.

"It's ok if you did."

She couldn't bring herself to admit it. "No. Never."

She held her breath. Would he detect her lie?

Miller raised his eyebrows, then turned and led her out of his office. "During your exam, we'll take pictures for your S2 Profile Portfolio. The decision makers use it for candidate selection."

"What are their criteria?"

"Physical attractiveness. Potential to compromise a male or female target."

He guided her into the examination room. To her right, Amanda saw a stationary exam table, covered in blue vinyl. To her left stood an adjustable table, equipped with stirrups, set to a reclining position. She'd lain on a similar table for her last pelvic exam. She bit her lip.

Amanda heard a soft tapping on a frosted glass window set into a second door on the far wall. Miller called out, "Enter!" A man in his mid-twenties, dressed in rumpled khakis and a frayed button-down shirt, peeked around the door.

"Hey, Rupert, thanks for dropping by, come one in."

Rupert left the door standing open. Amanda noticed a bit of his pale, hairy belly was visible through a gap in his shirt buttons. His face looked vaguely familiar.

"Amanda, this is Rupert Moss, one of our junior intelligence analysts. Actually, I believe you've already met."

Rupert's sudden appearance was unsettling. During her exam, she deserved privacy. But Rupert himself was probably innocent of any sinister intent, so she smiled and extended her hand. "Sorry for not remembering you."

Rupert gently shook her hand. "That's ok. We met in the parking lot. I didn't get to introduce myself."

Amanda's face fell. "You're the guy who ogled me." Her nostrils flared, and she looked at him coldly.

She turned to Miller. "Why is he here? Are you making him apologize?"

Miller frowned but didn't respond. He looked at Rupert. "Was it her legs?"

Rupert hesitated, then nodded toward Amanda. "She's very pretty."

Amanda pressed her lips together and shifted her stance.

Rupert continued. "That's a short skirt, and tall heels. When she bent forward to get her handbag, she gave me quite a view." He looked at Amanda. "I'm only human."

Miller patted his shoulder. "Thanks, Rupert. I asked Fred Gordon to bring over the security camera footage. Here he is now. Hi Fred, let's see what you have."

Silently glaring at Amanda, Fred approached a wall mounted flat screen and inserted a flash drive. Using a remote, he selected a file, and the screen showed sharp full-color footage of the parking lot as a black sedan pulled in. Fred zoomed in and Amanda recognized her own black Mercedes. She opened the driver's door, stepped out, and retrieved her handbag from the back. Fred paused the video and zoomed in further. The resolution remained startling.

Miller nudged Rupert. "Is that the same view you had?"

Rupert nodded.

"Her legs are amazing."

Rupert grinned. "They sure are."

Fred smirked and rewound to where Amanda exited her car. When he zoomed in, Amanda was sickened to see her skirt had ridden up, and she'd failed to keep her knees together. Fred advanced frame by frame until the display showed a view up her skirt. A swath of pink lace peeked out from between her legs.

Miller put his hand on Rupert's shoulder. "So, you were crossing the parking lot, and Amanda opened her door and flashed her panties at you. The she got out, bent over, and gave you a long look at her legs. And with a skirt that short, she shouldn't have bothered to wear one. So, you stopped to watch the show."

Amanda was furious. "I certainly did not! I..."

Miller held up his hand. "I was asking Rupert."

Rupert was already shaking his head up and down. "Yes, Dr. Miller. Except I wasn't expecting her to show me her panties, and I missed it."

Amanda fumed, but Miller slapped Fred on the back. "Great work, Fred. Rupert appreciates it too. Go make us both a high-resolution copy." To Rupert, he asked, "Happy?"

"Yeah. The clip is awesome, I'll look forward to, um, re-watching it later." He hesitated. "But do you have any footage where she's not wearing any panties?"

Amanda was stunned. She gave Miller an incredulous look.

"No, unfortunately not, Rupert. At least not yet. But I'm about to do her physical exam. Let me see what I can do." He turned back to Fred. "Was your interest a little different, Fred? Amanda said you looked down her blouse."

Amanda wasn't listening. She was still trying to process Miller's previous comment. Footage? Not wearing panties?

Fred pointed at Amanda's blazer and snorted. "I didn't see anything. She had that stupid jacket on."

"Gotcha. Let's discuss that later. Right now, take Rupert with you to copy that clip." He paused long enough for them to leave. "Amanda, I understand why you wore the jacket. But we're going to begin your exam, so I need you to remove it."

Amanda waited until Fred and Rupert were gone before she sprang the button on her blazer and slid it off. She dropped it onto a hook, then crossed her arms over her chest.

"Arms at your sides, please."

Reluctantly, she complied. Glancing down, she felt exposed. The fabric of her blouse stretched over the swell of her breasts while clinging to her ribs and back. Neither the blouse nor the bra beneath provided much coverage. She avoided meeting Miller's eyes.

Dr. Miller noticed. "That's a flattering blouse. It's so thin, your bra shows through. Did you do that deliberately, to get my attention?"

He smiled. "Of course, you did. What good is having a pair like that if you don't show them off?"

"No." She shook her head, then touched the back of her wrist to her damp forehead. "Jack Richards told me to wear a tight blouse."

Miller gave her a sidelong glance. "Jack didn't mention that, but he did say you brought up your breasts during the interview, in a suggestive way, and that you made sure he got a good look, to exert improper influence."

The accusation was unfair, and she became cross. "That's not true."

"So, you didn't bring up your breasts?"

"No." She stopped. "I mean, yes, I did, but not - not in the way you said."

"Thanks for admitting it. Wayne Rogers said that within five minutes of meeting, you faced him and stretched, reaching your arms high and arching your back. He said you deliberately 'showed off your tits,' as he put it. In fact, I saw it myself. You were still stretching when we were first introduced. Your posing was pretty provocative."

"He made me do it! I..."

She was interrupted by another tap at the door, and again Miller called out, "Enter!"

Fred let himself in. "I'm finished copying that clip, Dr. Miller."

Amanda tossed her head and turned away to hide her chest from Fred's view.

Miller gave her a sharp look. "Amanda. First you don't even say hello to Fred, then you turn your back on him. Maybe you guys got off on the wrong foot, but you need to move past it. Be professional and go shake his hand."

Amanda didn't want Fred to see her barely covered breasts, but it would be mulish to refuse to shake. She suppressed a scowl as she stepped forward and offered her hand.

Fred looked distainfully at her extended hand for a moment before accepting it. When he finally took it, he held it for a beat as he eyed the roundness of her bust.

Miller elbowed Fred. "Some rack, huh?"

"I heard that!"

Fred smiled. "They're pretty great." He lowered his voice and held his hand in front of his mouth. "How come she still has her blouse on?"

Amanda shook her head.

Miller winked at Fred, then looked at Amanda. "Take off your blouse."

Wait a minute, she thought. She expected to disrobe a bit further for Miller, and she was even slightly excited about undoing her blouse for the handsome doctor, but she couldn't imagine doing so with Fred watching.

Nevertheless, the blouse didn't hide much, and there was no upside to testing Miller's patience.

She faced Miller, pretending Fred wasn't present. But as she unbuttoned her blouse, both men ogled her. The edges of the elastic material pulled apart, exposing her upper chest, a section of her pale pink bra where the cups joined, and finally a narrow strip of her taut belly. She pulled the tails of her blouse from her waistband, revealing her bra more completely.

With her eyes lowered, she slid the blouse off her shoulders. She hung it over her jacket, then faced Miller again. She studied his face, gauging his reaction to her bra-clad breasts. Part of her wanted to be indifferent, or even disdainful toward any sign that he viewed her as a sex object.

Nevertheless, Miller was quite good-looking, not to mention confident, accomplished, and powerful. His opinion carried weight. She was still insecure in her own beauty, and she longed for his affirmation.

Miller eyed her chest. "You really do like expensive lingerie. Is that another bra from Agent Provocateur?" He leaned in for a closer look. "Or Victoria's Secret? Is it a Wonderbra?"

Amanda missed the suggestiveness in his tone. "No, the Wonderbra has extra padding. My friend Katherine has one, but for me it would be unnecessary."

"What about the lace? It's translucent. Is it to call more attention to your breasts?"

"Of course not!"

"Amanda. I understand why you want me to admire your breasts. They're very beautiful. I'm guessing not many men have seen them, so you haven't received many compliments yet. It's not surprising you'd feel the urge to flaunt them."

Amanda felt ashamed and confused. Did she want to show off her breasts today? Had that influenced her choice of bra? Was her tendency toward vanity rearing its head? Her self-confidence unraveled. She opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out.

Miller met her eyes. "Today, you'll definitely get compliments on your breasts." He lifted his phone. "Jenkins. Come to the exam room. Bring your camera."

A minute later, a bespectacled, middle-aged man let himself in the back door, muttering that some advance warning would be helpful. When he caught sight of Amanda, bare to the waist except for her flimsy bra, he stopped short, but he quickly recovered and turned his attention to his digital SLR.

Amanda was distressed by his arrival. Here was another man, not even a medical professional, much less a doctor, invited to scrutinize her partly nude body with impunity. Since her lacy bra did little to conceal her breasts, she raised her hands to cover herself.

"Jenkins, this is Amanda. She needs an S2 Profile Portfolio."

Jenkins nodded. He sighted through his viewfinder and took three closely spaced shots. He captured Amanda wearing a frown, her hands clutched to her breasts, chin down, shoulders hunched.

"Miss, um - "

"Amanda Stevens."

"Amanda. You're scowling, and anxious. That's not the look you're going for. You want a more relaxed, confident expression."

"Well, I'm sorry!" she said, not meaning it. "I'm not used to being photographed in my underwear by complete strangers." But after a moment, she managed to pull up the corners of her mouth.

"You don't have to smile, just relax and part your lips." He had her look down, to contrast her long, dark eyelashes with her light skin. He framed her face and shoulders, then took a closeup highlighting the depth of her large eyes.

Amanda responded to his gentle tone and subtle flattery. She grew accustomed to the sound of the shutter, and Jenkins persuaded her to move her hands to her hips in a more confident pose as he took wider shots of her nearly naked body. He made her feel desirable, and arousal stirred within her.

Miller's voice intruded. "Take off your skirt."

Miller's command reminded Amanda of her attire, or lack thereof, and forced her to confront a decision. Would she expose her skimpy panties to this appealing doctor, while being photographed?

Miller stood facing her, waiting. Jenkins had his camera ready.

Reluctantly, she reached to the small of her back, grasped the zip tab of her skirt, and drew it down. Jenkins took another sequence as she unhooked the waistband, rocked her hips, and worked the narrow garment down her legs.

As he watched her unwittingly laschivious wiggling, Miller stood rooted. His eyes traced the flatness of her belly, the swell of her butt, and her sculpted thighs and calves. Her pink lace bikini panties matched her bra. Jenkins obtained some full-frontal shots and some snaps from behind.

Amanda crossed her arms over her breasts, her heart pounding. "Some of those pictures don't leave much to the imagination. Why do you need such explicit photos?"

Even as she protested, she avoided admitting to herself how much their interest and attention excited her.

"Oh, you don't know the half -" Jenkins began.

"They're for your portfolio," Miller interrupted. "That's all you need to know."

She bit her lip. Obviously, Jenkins intended to take more pictures as Miller continued to make her strip.

Jenkins began to line up his next shot, but stopped. "Amanda, I'm not getting the shots I need. Your poses aren't quite right. It's going to affect your chances."

Amanda shrugged her shoulders. "But I've done whatever you asked."

He stepped back and peered through his viewfinder. "Lean forward."

Amanda rolled her eyes, then bent at the waist. She felt the weight of her breasts shift, and she knew the pose lewdly revealed their upper slopes. At Jenkins' request, she let her hair spill over her shoulders and pouted.

"That's almost it." Jenkins lowered his camera. "Get up on the exam table, on hands and knees, facing this way."

Amanda liked this pose even less than the last one, but she climbed up. Her bra was designed more for aesthetics than utility, and it pressed her flesh upward. As she bent over, she feared her breasts would spill out of their cups. The embarrassment would be too much to contemplate. She took shallow breaths.

Jenkins stepped forward for a close-up. "Look at the camera." He took a few frames, then circled behind her. "No, stay right there."

Amanda was disheartened by this affront but not surprised. She knew her butt attracted as much attention as her breasts. Her friends worried obsessively about their bottoms, however, and she was not immune, although she wasn't sure if hers was too big or too small.

She thought about this particular pair of panties, which had only a thong in back, and she flushed. They were a shameful choice, but one which also excited her. Despite her unease, she felt a burst of pride as she imagined Miller regarding her bottom with hungry lust.

Jenkins' camera shutter clicked repeatedly. "Go lower in front. No, keep your butt up, just drop your chest to the table. Knees farther apart. Good. Turn your head to the side and look back at me."

She tried not to think about how obscene this pose was, with her bottom raised high while she was completely bent over. She felt the tension in her upper thighs and buttocks, and an unwanted image of her exaggerated roundness sprung to mind.

She understood the need for sexier poses, but these shots would be particularly crude. Who would see them? How would they judge her? Beautiful angel, or debased whore?

To her shame, these thoughts further heightened her arousal. The tension she felt within the deepest reaches of her belly had been increasing for some time. Her secretions might have begun to leak into her panties. She feared there might be a visible wet spot, but she didn't dare check.

When she could finally sit up, Jenkins took a break while Miller measured and recorded her vital signs. Miller then summoned a phlebotomist who he introduced as Seth. As he drew blood from the crook of her arm, he studied her figure while she sat blushing.

Seth directed Amanda to stand and recorded her height and weight. He then knelt, nudged her feet apart, and held a measuring tape inside her ankle. He ran it up her right calf and continued up the inside of her thigh, making her flinch. He pressed the tape into the crease where her thigh met her body, the back of his hand squished against her damp cleft.

She suppressed a protest to the position of his hand, but she squirmed as she felt his hot breath on her mound through the thin material of her panties. How much could he see through the lacy fabric? Would he detect the musky scent of her arousal?

Seth asked Amanda her measurements, and she told him. Instructing her to place her hands at her sides, she felt herself color again as he checked each answer with the tape, starting with her chest just above her breasts. He moved on to the fullest part of her bust, the narrowest point of her waist, and the widest part of her hips.

Miller turned to Jenkins. "Get your camera up." He looked back at Amanda. "Take off your bra."

Amanda tossed her head. "Is this part of my exam, or for my portfolio, or is it just for your amusement?"

Miller's face darkened. "Actually, all three. But you'd do well to be respectful. You don't want to earn a critical endorsement."

Amanda apologized, but her face and upper chest flushed as she realized this dispute would not be resolved until she removed her bra. She licked her lips. She was secretly pleased by Miller's interest, but also embarrassed.

Yes, he was a doctor, and exams required removal of clothing, but she expected to be afforded some privacy. She certainly didn't envision baring her torso in public.

Nevertheless, she understood the point of the portfolio. Physical attractiveness was essential to her prospective role. Nevertheless, she hated posing for such compromising photos, and she especially didn't want to bare her breasts.