Spy Drills Reconciliation

note:

this is a continuation of the story told in the

Tribulations of a Spy

series. That series is not necessary reading and very few characters carry over, though it might provide some additional context to the actions of the characters here. Enjoy...

Sani was glad to finally be let go by her three American captors. She was dropped right where she was taken from. When she was able to get hold of her superiors, she was surprised to see how nonchalantly everyone had reacted.

At first, she was afraid that she would be interrogated about being a potential double agent. Instead, what had happened to her was just something alarmingly weird, at least to her. She was just caught up in between the two agencies' "banter."

The Agency and her captors were neither allies nor enemies. She was told that it was just a "friendly rivalry." Because she wasn't a major part of her mission, her going missing was just a mild annoyance, something each institution caused to the other.

Sani was pissed at this. She had given up and gone through a lot, and for what? To be forgotten when in peril? When she made her discontent known to her superiors, they had just laughed her off, asking her to think of it as a hazing ritual, since there was nothing that she could give to them that they hadn't already known.

But they did take something from her. Something Sani couldn't quite put a finger on. Something that would nonetheless wake her in the middle of the night, covered in a cold sweat. It was hard for her to get the image of Cathy out of her head, so instead, she tried to forget about her by fucking every man she could at the base. It was in vain.

And then, she was selected for her next mission. She had a more important part to play this time, so she was reassured that she wouldn't be the mild annoyance this time. She wasn't the biggest cog in this machine, but she was a significant one.

The Agency could obviously hack into the system through various means, but, given the RPY's amazing defences, that would leave their own systems vulnerable to their actual enemies. Not the mild annoyance kind. She wasn't given any more specifics, because that was how the Agency had pulled off things it had no right to pull off as secretly. Barely anyone knew the big picture.

If Sani had to guess, given that her mission was in the Middle East, the Agency was probably planning on toppling a South American government.

In Abu Dhabi, sat in a restaurant with her handler, Diya. Diya was another South Asian brunette who, just like Sani, could easily blend in with the local women. She was only slightly younger than Sani, but wasn't half as trained. Sani knew this meant that she wasn't fucked as part of the training, though Sani did find out that Diya was more promiscuous than her before either had joined the Agency. The two got along pretty well.

From their table, they had their eyes on their target. Both of them, in fact. The software engineer, Iqbal, was out on a date with his wife, Fatima. Well, it was a date if dates involved the woman being talked down to the entire time.

The hijab-clad woman, at least ten years younger than her husband, barely made eye contact as she was being spoken to. The man was venting his frustrations when he got a call and had to leave. Sani had thought that she would just watch the targets for a while but now was a great opening.

Diya looked at the woman eating her dinner alone with pity, got up and left to keep an eye on the engineer, as ordered. Sani picked up her drink and got up as well. They two agents feigned a goodbye hug, and Sani walked towards the lone wife.

The shy woman was hesitant to let Sani, a woman not wearing a hijab or burqa, join her. She would later explain that her husband would be angry at her if he saw them together. Once persuaded, Sani started making small talk. She told Fatima that she was visiting the city and was out with a friend from her school days and that she had to leave, that something urgent had come up.

Fatima was amused by the coincidence. Her husband had to leave, too. Something urgent had come up at work, despite it being late evening on a Friday. He was probably not going to come back until the next morning. When asked, she told Sani that she was married to a man 11 years older to her. Their parents had known each other. Fatima was 20 and had been married for two years.

Sani had noticed that whenever love and husband were mentioned together, Fatima would quickly change the topic. When talking about things like music and movies, there was a smile on Fatima's face that reminded Sani of her days before the Agency.

In the middle of their long conversations about Bollywood movies, they were reminded by a waiter that it was nearing closing time. Sani mentioned in passing that she was supposed to stay with her friend who was not responding to her messages and that she might have to look for a hotel.

Fatima was kind enough to offer her to stay the night at her place. Sani feigned reluctance but was surprised at how well her impromptu plan was going. She was glad that she had enough equipment with her in her handbag.

Neither had their cars, so they hailed a taxi. In the back of the cab, the two women were giggling throughout the ride, and if Fatima was any less naïve, she would have seen how hard Sani was flirting with her. In Sani's defence, flirting with men always worked, so she assumed that flirting with a conservative woman would be seen as flattery and they might put their guard down. It worked.

Sani had assumed that Fatima's apartment would be much bigger than it actually was. It wasn't small, it had three bedrooms and was excellently furnished. She had just overestimated how important the target she was assigned would be.

There was no alcohol in the house, so Sani would need to drug Fatima to be less inhibited. She wanted to get as much out of the wife before she confronted the husband. When Fatima was in the kitchen making them tea, Sani checked with Diya for an update. Iqbal was still at work, and based on what Fatima had said, he would be there until the morning. It was enough time for Sani to figure something out.

When Fatima returned with tea, Sani started talking about romance. She made up a story about a boyfriend who would make the grandest of gestures and was the sweetest man. She had just merged all the heroes from the Bollywood movies Fatima enjoyed. Upon hearing this, Fatima had a vacant smile on her face. Sani knew it was time to prod.

Sani placed a hand on Fatima's knee and asked her if her husband loved her. Fatima was confused at first, then was persistent in telling Sani that her husband, in fact, did love her. Sani kept prodding and finally Fatima relented.

Her husband used her only to take off his frustrations. He would either beat her or fuck her. She longed for romance. If she left, her parents wouldn't accept her. She hadn't been to college or had worked at all, so she won't be able to find a job. And that in his beatings, he had said things to her that she shouldn't know, so he would ensure her silence by staying married.

Sani was shocked. Not at the domestic abuse part, she had done the research. Shocked at how much a person can open up without intoxicant if given a supportive ear.

Sani asked her what kind of things was she not supposed to know. Fatima tried dodging the questions, but then finally admitted, crying, that she was afraid her husband might kill her if she said anything to anyone.

Well, a supportive ear can only go so far. Sani had made a plan to extract certain information from the wife, but now she was sure that she would gain a lot more. Sani offered to guide Fatima to the washroom to wash her face. Fatima didn't want Sani to bother and asked her to stay seated.

Fatima returned to Sani standing up by the couch. She had managed to plant a camera just in time. Fatima was about to say something, but Sani walked up to her and planted a kiss on the thin, quivering lips.

Fatima wanted to resist, but Sani made sure to maintain contact as long as she could. Fatima finally managed to pull away from the tight embrace and shock took over her innocent face.

"I am not like that," said Fatima.

"Well, neither am I, yet here we are," said Sani and leaned in to kiss her again.

"Please, I am not that kind of a woman."

"Then why am I here?"

"I- I invited you to my house, but not for this. I thought you needed help and I helped."

"Well, I think you need help and now I'm helping."

"But-"

"Just close your eyes and give in," said Sani and leaned in once again. She planted her lips onto Fatima's and waited for a response. Nothing, so she embraced the young housewife.

After a few moments, the embrace was returned, albeit a very loose one. It was better than nothing. So the next obvious step was to push her tongue down Fatima's throat. It worked, though just in eliciting a stronger response.

"What are you doing?" asked Fatima, taken aback.

"Something your husband never does." With that, Sani kissed her again, and this time Fatima kissed her back.

A few moments later, Sani grabbed Fatima's boob over the clothes and gave it a slight squeeze. Fatima gasped, only to feel the other hand be placed over her vagina. Fatima almost froze mid-kiss, so Sani squeezed harder and began rubbing the other hand over the wife's pussy. She felt Fatima's breath getting deeper and faster.

Sani pulled away from the kiss and looked at Fatima's face for a moment. It didn't want the kiss to be over yet. She turned her around and held her from behind. One hand went back to playing with the boobs while the other fished for a way to the pussy.

Fatima moaned and Sani's fingers made contact with her pussy lips. Sani wasn't surprised to find how wet it was. She got on with rubbing the wife off as the other hand fondled her tits.

She fingered her gently but persistently. Fatima's moans grew louder and sharper and Sani increased pace. Once she felt that Fatima was about to cum, Sani's other hand let go of the breasts and she wrapped her arm around Fatima's covered neck. Fatima was too entranced to notice this.

As Fatima edged closer to an orgasm, Sani squeezed her arm around the neck and held Fatima in a chokehold. Fatima yelped but didn't yet realize that there was reason to panic.

Her husband had never touched her like this. She had never touched herself like this. She had nothing to compare with what was happening to her now. She had never felt this wanted and if the arm around her throat meant that she was wanted, she wanted it.

This high soon vanished, however, when she felt dizzy. Despite the euphoria happening down under, she felt uneasy. She knew something was wrong, but she couldn't do anything about it. Or maybe she didn't want to do anything about it. She wasn't sure.

Sani squeezed harder and rubbed faster. Fatima's moans grew louder and shallower, and it really satisfied Sani. A scream and an explosion was the last thing Fatima remembered before it went dark.

As Sani held onto Fatima's unconscious body, she thought back to when she was at the receiving end of this. She justified this as a kinder way of doing it. At least she let the poor woman cum. She dropped Fatima onto the couch and raised her business hand up to her nose.

It smelled nice, so she gave it a lick. It tasted even better. She might not condone what she was going to do, but at least she would be able to find her peace of mind and the process wouldn't be repulsive.

She retrieved the camera she had planted and placed it where she was going to do the dirty deed.

Sani dragged Fatima's body to the spare room and stripped it naked. It felt a bit icky to take off the hijab. The mission required no disrespect of her beliefs, nor did what Sani wanted. It was questionable what she was going to do to the helpless woman, but she was doing it to the woman and not anything else. Or so Sani justified her decision.

She grew up in a conservative Hindu household and was always told to keep away from Muslims. The news backed this view, and while Sani knew that a vast majority of Muslims were just regular people like her, there was always a subconscious nervousness she felt when she was around them. Maybe today she planned on squashing that fear. Only Sani would know, and if she knew, she wouldn't tell.

Sani didn't want to undress, but because Cathy was naked, she needed to be naked, too. After undressing, she brought her handbag in and took out her "tools." She had used most of these tools herself, but for a very different reason. She produced a large dildo, a buttplug, two pairs of handcuffs and an unused strap-on harness.

As the unconscious Muslim lay naked on the bed, the Hindu cuffed both her arms to the bed and waited, imagining everything she wanted to do.

Fatima stirred, so Sani helped her regain consciousness by spitting at her face. This startled Fatima and she woke up with a start. She winced as the handcuffs dug into her wrists and looked at Sani standing by her, naked.

"What's going on?" asked Fatima, and she looked down at herself, shocked that she was naked, and up at her cuffed wrists.

"Well, I'm not who I said I was. And I want to know what your husband doesn't want anyone to know," replied Sani, calmly.

"I'll tell you everything, just let me go."

"I'm not sure that you'd tell me everything. After all, you're so scared of your husband. How can I be sure that you'd tell me the truth?"

"I swear I'll tell you the truth. I won't speak a word about this to anyone. Just let me go."

"I can't be sure of that either. How can I be when you're more scared of your husband than you're of me?"

"What do you mean? What are you going to do?"

"For starters, something similar to what your husband does to you?"

"For starters?"

"Yes. Then we'll need to take things to the next level to ensure you're more afraid of me that you're of him."

"Please. Just let me-"

"That's not an option, honey," said Sani, and proceeded to put on the harness. She attached the large dildo onto it and straddled Fatima's chest.

"No, no, no -"

"You don't get to say that when your husband shoves his cock into your mouth, why should you now?"

"But, his..."

"But what? Come on, say what you want to say. It'll make things easier."

"His penis is small," said Fatima, hopeful that it'd be of help.

"That's a great start," said Sani, then shoved the dildo halfway in her mouth, shattering any hopes.

*****

Diya was sat in her car parked not far from Iqbal's, near his office. He hadn't parked the car in the office's parking and didn't enter the building using his ID, instead, relying on the receptionist recognizing him. He didn't the system to know he was in that night.

Sani had messaged her that he was probably gonna be there until the morning and that she would be executing the plan tonight. Diya wasn't privy to the details of the said plan. She just knew that Fatima would be seduced, then blackmailed. She could imagine the rest of it.

The windows of the car were dark tinted, and it was almost impossible to look in from outside, especially with no lights from inside. It really helped during recon missions. Now, however, there wasn't much recon to do. She was told to just stay in the car.

Her thoughts drifted to Sani seducing Fatima. She had never had any lesbian interactions yet, but she did sort of have crushes on a few women. Sometimes, when a guy left her unsatisfied, she would pleasure herself in the toilet as she watched lesbian porn. She preferred that over straight porn, in fact.

Her latest crush was Sani, and Sani was currently busy seducing another woman who definitely hasn't had any lesbian interactions. Diya felt her heartbeat get a little faster and her hand drifted to her crotch.

She stopped for a second and then continued regardless. She had an entire night to kill while doing nothing. This would keep her busy and awake. She unbuttoned her trousers, slipped her hand under her panties and began rubbing herself.

She thought of Sani and Fatima naked in a passionate embrace, making out and fingering each other.

*****

With each thrust, Sani pushed the dildo in deeper into Fatima's mouth, enjoying the view below her. Fatima had started gagging and spit was dripping from the edge of her mouth. Her eyes were red and tears had started rolling down non-stop.

Sani wanted to shove the entire length in, but their positions wouldn't allow that. Instead, she was satisfied when it hit the back of Fatima's throat. For now.

Fatima gasped for air when Sani finally pulled the strap-on out of her mouth. It was the largest thing that she had ever taken in her mouth, beating her husband's penis by a big margin. As she lay there panting, she didn't realize what Sani was doing next.

Sani shifted her position and moved down, kneeling between Fatima's legs. She looked down at the heaving breasts, only slightly smaller and slightly darker than hers. They seemed delicate and supple, and Sani felt a tingle when she thought of what she was going to do to them. She had decided that she needed to have as much fun as she can to ensure this being a fruitful exercise. So, she was going to have some fun.

She pressed the dildo onto Fatima's hairy pussy for a moment. When Fatima looked at her with horror, she pushed in, parting the pussy lips and entering the hole that's used to being fucked when not in the mood. This time, Fatima was lucky that her pussy was dripping wet from the fingering and that the dildo was covered in her spit.

Sani pushed in slowly at first, as the pussy widened to accommodate the foreign object. It hurt Fatima, but Sani only felt mild resistance. Plus, that pain in Fatima's eyes excited her and she wanted more of it. She pushed in harder.

Fatima, with tears streaming out of her eyes, let out a moan of pain. She had felt pain there before, but this was unlike any other. Her lungs didn't have enough air to sustain that moan, and soon the loud noise turned into a soundless nothing.

Sani liked it, and pushed further in, finally stopping at the base of the dildo. She looked down at the woman in nothing but a hijab and spat at the heaving tits. She leaned down, resting her weight on an elbow, just like Fatima's husband would. Her other hand covered Fatima's mouth, just like Fatima's husband would.

She began fucking the young wife, harder and faster than she was used to being fucked. Sani made sure to pull out as much as possible before thrusting back in hard. Her hand muffled the moans, but they were loud enough to keep her motivated.

Their boobs squeezed against each other's as Sani fucked Fatima twice as hard and for twice as long as she was used to, and it exhausted the wife. Still, Sani ensured that Fatima didn't cum, just like she never did when she was fucked by the husband.

"That seemed familiar?" asked Sani when she had finally stopped.

Fatima mumbled something as her mouth was still covered by Sani's hand. Sani took it off.

"Please. That's enough."

"Enough?"

"Yes. I'll tell you everything."

"Not yet."

"Not yet?"

"Even if you're afraid of me, you're only as afraid as you are of your husband."

"Please. Just stop."

"Stop? We've only just begun!"

*****

Fatima looked down at Sani eating her pussy. Every once in a while, Sani glanced up and looked straight into Fatima's eyes and it was the sexiest thing Fatima had ever seen.

Diya imagined herself in Fatima's position as she rubbed her pussy. She had leaned the seat back and paid no attention to the silent street outside. She pinched and massaged her tits over her clothes with the other hand, just like she imagined Fatima to be doing.

Diya had no intentions of muffling her moans but was keen on taking advantage of her isolation. She moaned louder than she ever had when rubbing her pussy, louder than she needed to, just because Fatima was moaning uncontrollably in her thoughts.