Home Sweet Homeland

Scott's fingers closed together like crab's claws and then he pushed his hands forward to indicate that he wanted her to pull her skirt further back along her legs. For the first time she suddenly understood what Scott wanted from her.

"Elisabeth, it's a simple deal. If you want us to risk our asses to cover yours, then the least we expect is a piece of it in return. Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you."

She raised her eyes to his. Scott's cold blue irises were examining her as dispassionately as a technician inspecting a malfunctioning computer. Only the curve of his lips and an air of tension seemed to reveal how much he was enjoying Elisabeth's humiliation.

"What's more, nice lady, if you really need some exciting moments to make your life complete, then you don't need to deal with any outsiders. The United States government will be happy to supply your therapy. In our time and for free."

Elisabeth gasped and looked over the desk towards Catherine. The female agent was still smiling, apparently neither surprised nor shocked by Scott's words.

"Go ahead, don't mind me, kids. Go on and enjoy yourselves. I've got my own agenda here, but we'll discuss that later."

Scott's stockinged foot rose and rubbed itself slowly down the side of Elisabeth's left calf. It felt hot and slightly scratchy. Her legs began to tremble.

"Elisabeth, I'm still waiting. Do you want me to put my shoe back on and leave?"

"No, no."

Elisabeth reached down to her black skirt and slowly drew it back over her dark pantyhose to a point well past her knees. Scott's foot settled on the seat again, as before, except this time it was down flat on the leather. Then it slid forward in pursuit of the retreating skirt, the toes disappearing out of view under the rucked up hemline. Elisabeth instinctively closed her legs against the intrusion, trapping the toes between her thighs. She gasped and glanced towards the door. Christine rose and went over to it, securing the lock.

"Don't worry, nobody is going to come in for a while," Scott said reassuringly. "The way your boss reacted to our ID, he's probably hiding out in the broom closet by now. So I think you'd better open your legs again, Ms Manning."

Oh God, they were all looking at her and what else could she do but obey the agent's order? The arch of the foot caught against her skirt, drawing it tight against the outside of her knees as she spread them apart in obedience to Scott's commands. The toes slithered towards once more, as far as they could between her thighs, then burrowed underneath them until they were jammed below the gusset of her panties.

"Huh!"

Oh God, the amused look on the watching faces as those damned toes made her grunt by wriggling around underneath her pussy. This was crazy, Scott was virtually ravishing her, even without a stitch of clothing being removed and with his arms still folded as he kept talking.

"Can you tell us some more about this camp thing, Elisabeth?"

His foot had twisted around a little, the toes were rubbing up against the valley below her thin underclothing and her voice quivered as she tried once again to make him understand the truth.

"It never happened, it never happened. Nothing like that has ever happened to me. I made it all up."

Scott nodded as if he understood.

"OK, well, as agents we all think that we're pretty good at knowing when people are telling us untruths. That's what we're supposed to be trained for. So you tell us everything you told your boyfriend in LA, word for word, and we'll have a vote afterwards on whether or not you're just a plausible liar. Jarrel, you want to help me out here?"

"Sure."

Scott removed his foot from where it had been and knelt down to take a firm grip on Elisabeth's calf. She was surprised, even more so when Jarrel did exactly the same thing with her other leg.

"Up."

The two agents worked as a team, both lifting her feet off the carpet and pulling off her shoes.

"And up some more."

At Scott's order the men rose and lifted her feet in their hands, pressing her spine deep into the back of the big swivel chair. The wheels underneath it rolled the chair up against the wall, leaving Elisabeth's legs stretched out and parted in front of her, her toes up at the same level as her chest. Scott and Jarrel sat side by side on the edge of the desk, each holding one of her feet between their clenched knees and lightly massaging the soles with their thumbs.

"Oh!"

Elisabeth was dumbfounded. Dumbfounded at their audacity, at their teamwork, and at the effect their joint caresses were having on her. Again, it was as if she was nothing but a piece of machinery which needed certain things doing to it to get it working as they wanted. The problem was that they seemed to be know where all her starting buttons were and how to push them.

"Now, Elisabeth, we'd got to where you two girls and the two boys had gone into the boat shed together. Right, what happened then?"

Elisabeth opened her mouth to protest once again that it was only something she'd dreamed up in a hot moment but changed her mind before she spoke. Whatever these people wanted to hear from her, that was what they were going to get. As long as she got Peter out of the line of fire.

"There were three more boys in the boat shed as well. They'd been waiting for us. With two fishing rods."

"I love this bit," Jarrel said. "Go on."

"They grabbed us and held our arms by our sides while one of them put the fishing lines through our earrings and tied them there. Then they turned us loose and started playing with us. Playing with us in two ways, I mean. They started grabbing at us and when we tried to step back the guys with the rods wound us back into the middle of the shed again like we were hooked fish. I mean, it really hurt to have your ear pulled on like that. When a guy tugged the rod and wound in the line on you there wasn't anything you could do but walk towards him."

Scott smiled and began tweaking her toes, starting at the big one and moving along the row to the little piggy. Jarrel tickled the bottom of her right foot and Elisabeth gasped, then grabbed at the armrests of the chair as she was forced to wriggle around by his scratching nails.

"Wow," Jarrel exclaimed as he stared at Elisabeth's breasts heaving around underneath her crisp white blouse. "Catherine, how about coming around here and loosening a few buttons for Elisabeth?"

The female agent strolled around the desk. In her hand was a small video camera with the viewing screen opened out. Elisabeth's eyes widened in shock at seeing it, a reaction the dumpy agent had already anticipated and was ready to record.

"Don't worry, Elisabeth, I'll keep this tape for private viewing only," Catherine said. "But anytime I want some information from you about anything going down in this office, you'd better tell me quickly. In fact, if anything happens around here I should know about you call me in the next five minutes, otherwise you're going to have even worse problems than you've already got. So lie back and enjoy getting laid through this one."

The agent put the camera down carefully on Willard's desk, then knelt down over the chair and began unbuttoning the buttons down the front of Elisabeth's blouse.

"Set the scene for us some more," Scott demanded. "What were you wearing when this thing at the camp happened?"

Elisabeth tried to remember exactly what she'd written. It was difficult to concentrate while a set of neatly trimmed nails were undoing her blouse buttons in front of two smiling men. Especially when their fingers were doing things to her feet which were sending high voltage shock waves clear up her spine.

"A swim suit. We both were. The one piece kind because counselors weren't allowed to wear bikinis at the camp."

"How old were you both?"

"Eighteen. I was anyway, and I think Anita was too."

"So I guess you'd have grown yourself a good pair by then. Well worth the handling. Jesus, they are now, that's for sure."