The Missionary Position Pt 04

Satisfied that Chris had made a decision as to her initial sexual partner, the officer strode out of the room, leaving her alone. Her mind raced. So much had happened in such a short period of time. Why had she not listened to her friends, who urged her not to go with those men? She wracked her brain, trying to come up with some kind of offense that they may have inadvertently committed. But she could think of nothing.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the officer's return. He was carrying a dress and a pair of stiletto heels. Throwing the dress at her, he commanded, "Here. Put this on." Chris slipped into the dress, but just barely. It was a tight-fitting, off-the-shoulder number. The hemline would leave little to the imagination, especially if she tried to sit down. The officer laid the shoes on the desk and motioned to her to put them on. Chris felt totally uncomfortable but there was nothing she could do about it.

Taking her hand, the officer helped her out of the chair. "Your selected partner will soon join us here. The three of us will first have a brief meeting. Then, the two of you will be able to be alone together. With difficulty, he led her across the room to the sofa. Chris had never worn high heels in her life. Seating her on the sofa, he proceeded to the bar. "What will you have," he asked innocently.

"I don't drink," Chris snapped.

Grinning, the officer retorted, "You do now. I will fix you something. How about a pina colada?" He answered his own question with, "Yes, that would be a good choice."

After getting her drink, he made one for himself and and a third for me. Setting the drinks down on the coffee table, he joined Chris on the sofa. Lightly fondling her knee, he began, "I am sure this is all very intimidating for you. You are a very pretty young lady. You can perform a great service here for our Fatherland." Now tightening his grip on her knee, he continued, "I know you are not experienced. But you will still have to be proficient at using your feminine skills to get the information that we need. If we give you a mission and you do not succeed, your friend here will be severely punished. You do not want that, do you?"

Chris was crying. "Please sir. We have not done anything. Please just let us go."

I was in shock. I had just been released from a bondage session only to be informed that I was expected to perform sexually with my young colleague. After a few minutes, a guard arrived with some pants and a shirt for me to wear. Putting them on, I was instructed to follow him further down the hallway, As I was led into the room, I saw the officer and Chris sitting on the sofa. I noticed that Chris was dressed very provocatively and the officer had his hand on her knee. My instinct was to march over and pull him away from her. I had to force myself not to do so.

Seeing me, the officer arose, "Come and join us," he bellowed. He then took a chair next to the sofa and motioned for me to join Chris on the sofa. As I sat down, he continued, "There are a few things we needed to all be clear on before the two of you headed off together. Ominously, and looking at me, he warned, "It is very important that she receive the sexual instruction here that she needs. She will need to know how to conduct herself when on a mission. While the two of you are together, we will be monitoring your performance." Still glaring at me, he said, "If she does not become adequately schooled from you in how to use her sexual charms, then I will have to intervene and show her myself. And she will need to be familiar with all positions, not just the missionary position. Is this clear?"

I could not believe what I was hearing. Chris took me by the hand and whispered, "Just answer him."

"Yes, I understand," I muttered.

"Good," the officer snapped. "Let us go ahead and get a little foreplay out of the way here before you retire to the room we have for you." Looking at me, he ordered, "Kiss her and tell her how pretty she looks."

I looked over at my young colleague. She would not look at me. I took her chin in my hand and raised her face to look at mine. With a sigh, I reached over and kissed her, saying, "You look very pretty."

The officer interrupted. "Well you are certainly going to have to do better than that. I will not be in the room with the two of you. But I will be watching. If she does not learn what to do from you" (looking at me)," then I will have to show her. Now, try it again. And this time, I want to see a passionate kiss." He then folded his arms, expectantly.

Chris and I looked at each other. Quietly, she begged, "Just do whatever you need to do. If it has to happen here, I want it to be with you. I do not want him to rape me. Please do not let that happen."

Again, I reached over and kissed her. Our tongues engaged. Backing away, I stroked her hair and whispered, "You are not just pretty. You are beautiful."

Enthusiastically, the officer jumped to his feet. "Okay, I think the two of you are ready to be on your own." He motioned for us to follow him. I had to help Chris walk, as it was very difficult for her to maneuver in the heels she had been assigned.

Following the officer's lead, we made our way up the stairs to the second floor of the building. Opening a door, he ushered us inside. It was a well-appointed room. Along one side was a king size four-poster bed. There was a mirror on the ceiling and another along each wall at the side of the bed. On the other side of the room was an entertainment center with a large television. Walking over and turning it on, the officer informed us, "Sex tapes will play on here throughout your encounter. They will illustrate the kind of activities that we expect her to become familiar with by the time the two of you leave this room." Returning to the door, he remarked, "Just remember. We are watching every second." He reminded me, "She has requested that you be her instructor. I am granting that request. But if you fail to adequately train her to perform her missions, then I will have to do it myself." With that, he shut the door behind him and we heard a "click." Chris and I were alone together.