UNDER COVER

Why was it always me? I'd thought that, after I transferred to a different branch of the police force, my days of dressing as a prostitute and acting as bait were over... but this latest assignment was even worse. I had a sneaking suspicion that my male colleagues just liked to see me strut about in sexy clothes... and I didn't blame them, since I look good and feel good when I'm dressed to impress. But this assignment was potentially more dangerous than your average honey trap - I had to infiltrate a fetish club and learn what I could about an illegal slave-trade operation.

I examined my reflection in the mirror - despite the butterflies in my tummy, I looked confident and dominant. I was dressed in a skintight purple latex catsuit, black latex opera gloves and black boots that flared mid-thigh and sported very uncomfortable stiletto heels. My makeup was dark and gothic, and I hoped that if I hid behind it my nervousness wouldn't show through... The sensation of the material tight against my skin was new to me, and I wouldn't admit that I enjoyed it but... well... I foresaw similar items making it into my wardrobe one day.

"Are you okay in there?" called Jenny, the owner of the fetish shop who was helping to create my cover.

"I'll be out in a sec," I called back, smoothing the skintight latex over my breasts.

Oh yes, my cover. I was to infiltrate the club as a dominatrix... a ridiculous proposition, since I'd never dominated anything in my life. Sure, I'd bossed about a few arrested criminals, but that was my only real experience. As for experience of bondage, there was my initiation into the police force that involved me wearing a pair of handcuffs for a long period of time... but that's another story.

The latex was too tight for me to wear a wire, so I had a microphone concealed in my left boot - it all felt very James Bond... or perhaps Cate Archer. I looked at my reflection again, turning so I could see the tight material hugging the round curves of my buttocks. Jenny had given me a quick lesson in all things dominatrix, but I still felt unprepared - but I was only supposed to scout the place, quickly dart in and out without arousing suspicion, so perhaps I didn't need to know too much. All I needed to do was boss people about and I'd be fine.

I pulled the changing room curtain to one side and stepped out, teetering a little in the stiletto heels. Jenny was waiting for me, smiling broadly as she saw me, her eyes wandering slowly up and down my body, making me feel somewhat self-conscious. She only paused a moment before she stepped forward and smoothed the skintight material over my body.

"Are you sure this outfit is suitable?" I asked, nervously trying to cover the fact that her fingers running up and down my body were turning me on.

"It's more than suitable," she grinned, "I'd do anything you ordered me to."

"That's good enough for me," I smiled in reply, a million potential orders running through my head.

"Take this - it will make you feel more confident," she continued, interrupting my train of thought.

She handed me a black cat-like masquerade mask and I quickly pulled it over my face. I looked back into the changing room, and barely recognised my reflection - I felt like a different person. With one hand on my arm to steady me and another hand on my bum to guide me forwards, Jenny led me out into the main part of the shop where a couple of my male colleagues were waiting for me - their faces lit up when they saw me, and I felt a thrill in my latex-covered body as I turned to show them the full effect of my outfit. Maybe this mission would be easier than I'd first thought...

Minutes later, I was riding in the back of a taxi cab through one of the roughest parts of town, watching the sun set between the passing buildings. The driver kept sneaking glances in his rear-view mirror at my latex outfit, and I did my best to cover myself up with my long overcoat - I was feeling a little self-conscious and vulnerable again. Eventually, we arrived at the club - an inconspicuous black door in a dark alley, well-hidden from casual glances. I got out of the cab (I didn't need to pay the driver since my colleagues had paid in advance) and approached the club entrance. I turned as I heard the cab pull away - and I realised just how vulnerable I was, all alone in a rough part of town, dressed in skintight latex... Well, I wasn't quite alone - an unmarked van across the road contained my backup, who were listening to everything received by the microphone in my boot.

I hurried to the entrance and knocked on the door. A panel slid back and a pair of eyes looked out of the door at me. I opened my coat to reveal my purple catsuit, and smiled with relief when I heard the sound of heavy bolts being drawn back. The door opened, and I stepped into a dark, smoky, alien world. The huge bouncer took my coat, and I trotted down some stairs on my stiletto heels, past pictures of women in sexy fetish outfits, until I arrived in the main hall. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw in there.

I wandered through the poorly-lit, smoke-filled haze, past groups of people engaged in all sorts of bizarre, deviant activities, some of which made my stomach turn, some of which looked like fun. My outlandish outfit fit right in, but I didn't go unnoticed - heads of both sexes turned to study my outfit in bold detail as I passed, and the general consensus of these frequent appraisals seemed to be approval. My confidence grew as I explored, and I began to pay more attention to some of the activities people were engaged in.

I joined a crowd that had gathered around what could only be described as a spanking. A man in black leather had a naked woman over his knee, and was belting her rump as hard as he could. She was counting the strokes out loud, and thanking 'Master' for each one. I rubbed my own latex-covered bottom with my latex-covered hand in sympathy for her, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. I wondered if I would enjoy myself in the same situation.

My ears were filled with a combination of loud music, hard spanking and orgasmic groans - I wondered what my backup, in the van across the street, made of it all. I also wondered if they'd be able to tell if I got into trouble.

I stepped out of the way of a leather-clad dominatrix - she was leading a man (well-built, oiled muscles, tiny loincloth) by a pair of manacles towards some steps that presumably led to some deeper, darker, scarier part of this fetish dungeon. In avoiding that couple, I had stepped into another group of people who were watching two girls in tight bondage pleasure each other.

"You're new here, aren't you!" a woman's voice shouted over the background noise - I turned to see a tall blonde in a latex body and fishnet tights. She was smiling, and leaning in close to make herself heard.

"I've just moved into town, and thought I'd check out this club! It's a bit more than I'm used to!"

"I know what you mean - it does take some getting used to! I'm Michelle!"

"Laura! Pleased to meet you!"

"Fancy going somewhere quieter to chat?" she asked, moving in closer to she didn't have to shout so loud, a latex-clad hand resting nonchalantly on my hip.

"Sorry, I want to look around a bit more first... I'll come find you later."

"Sure, okay - see you later."

She winked and turned away, disappearing off into the smoky crowd - I watched her leave, my eyes somehow unable to leave her fishnet-covered buttocks. When I realised that I was staring, I quickly closed my eyes and shook my head. I was here for a specific purpose, and it was not to make new friends.

I'd been informed that the offices were upstairs, so I quickly skirted the edge of the main room, ignoring the bizarre bondage and fetish going on around me, until I found a discreet staircase in the corner leading up to a solid red door. There was a sign on the door that said No Admittance, but I didn't let it bother me. After a quick glance around to make sure no-one was watching, I moved stealthily up the staircase (partly because I was concerned about being caught, partly because my high heels were killing me so I couldn't move any faster) and listened at the door. I didn't hear anything over the music, so I slowly, quietly, carefully turned the handle and pushed the door open... and found myself in a well-lit, deserted office. I closed the door behind me and breathed a sigh of relief, my purple latex-covered body pressed against the door as I recovered my composure. I wondered what would happen if anyone caught me here... would they believe my claims to be a police officer despite my lack of identification, would my backup arrive in time once my cover was blown? I decided not to think about the possibilities, but instead to search the office for evidence of criminal activity.

It was then that I heard the sound of the door handle turning. I quickly darted across the room to hide behind the opening door (thankfully, the floor was carpetted so my heels didn't make too much noise). Two people entered the room and thankfully didn't close the door behind them - they were chatting about the day-to-day running of their fetish club, so I soon stopped listening and just waited there, in the tiny space between the door and the wall, hoping they would leave soon... and hoping they wouldn't notice me. It reminded me a little of my initiation into the police force... my so-called friends had stripped me naked and handcuffed my hands behind my back before locking me in the mens' changing room... the door was soon unlocked by the next shift, but I hadn't dared to make my presence known... so I had spent hours hiding in an empty locker as the men passed through the room... watching them dress and undress... before I finally plucked up the courage to make a quick dash for the exit when I thought there was no-one there... but there had been...

I was surprised as the door was quickly closed, exposing me to the room - luckily, the two men had left and I was alone again. I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled before I returned to the search... but didn't find anything incriminating or even suggestive of some illegal slave trade. Perhaps our source was misinformed. Perhaps there was no illegal slave trade going on in here - just the kind of slavery you'd expect in a fetish club. I kneeled down in the middle of the floor and spoke into the microphone embedded in the flare of my left boot.

"I'm in the office - I couldn't find anything here. I'll ask a few questions downstairs, then head home."

I made my way back downstairs, glancing around to check that no-one saw my return, and quickly joined a crowd of people that had gathered around a large wooden frame. A naked woman was securely manacled to the frame, and a much older man in black leather was brandishing a bullwhip, obviously with the intention of striking her bottom. I looked away, not wanting to watch, and looked straight into the eyes of Michelle. She shouted something to me but I couldn't hear her, and she didn't hear my request for her to speak louder, so she led me away into a small, secluded, relatively-quiet room - it had a variety of interesting bondage toys and fetish-wear adorning the walls, and I examined them in detail.

"You look like you've never seen bondage toys before," Michelle grinned, her voice jerking me back to reality.

"I've never seen some of these bondage toys before..." I said, hoping I hadn't blown my cover.

"What did you say you did again?"

"I didn't. I'm a professional dominatrix."

"I see. Do you have a monoglove in your collection?"

"Look, I need your help. I've heard rumours about this place, that have left me feeling somewhat concerned. I was wondering..."

"Here, this nice black monoglove would go great with your outfit."

"I'm already wearing a nice pair of black gloves," I replied, not really knowing what she was talking about, more focussed on investigating this fetish club.

"Well, take off your gloves then," Michelle smiled, "and I'll tell you everything I know."

"Sure," I smiled, feeling that I was getting somewhere - I peeled off the black latex gloves from my purple latex arms and handed them to her. "I'd heard that women have been coming here... and not returning."

"Well, it is a fun place," Michelle grinned, putting the glove on my right arm.

"That's not what I mean - I think there's something more sinister going on," I said, turning to look at her, my eyes flicking down to admire her fishnet-covered legs.

"Nonsense," she replied, "err, could you move your arms? There's a special way to put this glove on."

"Sure," I said, obeying her request by letting her guide my arms behind my back while I continued to question her, "so, you haven't heard or seen anything?"

"No, nothing... although..."

"What?" I asked, as she began to lace the glove behind my back - I felt like I was beginning to make progress.

"There was a girl who was a regular, but she stopped coming here, all of a sudden. I thought she'd left town..."

"Was she called Mary? Or Heather? Or Chrissie?" I asked, trying to remember some of the names of the girls who had reportedly disappeared in this club.

"No, I think she was called Jessie."

"Oh... hey, that's tight!" I said, as she pulled my arms tight behind my back - it felt like my elbows were almost touching.

"It's meant to be tight."

"This is the strangest item of clothing I've ever seen..."

"You mean you've never seen one before?"

"Of course I have... just not in this style."

It was too late to back out now, not without blowing my cover. My arms were pulled tight behind my back, held in place by this black leather monoglove, which Michelle had just finished lacing up really tight. She let go, and I took a couple of tentative steps and struggled - it was then that I realised I was utterly helpless.

"Hey..." I started, but she stepped towards me and put her finger to my lips.

"Don't take offense, but I just wanted to see what you looked like in this. And you look gorgeous. I'll help you take it off if you want, but I'd rather run my fingers all over your body first..."

She ran her fingers over my latex-covered body, and my nipples hardened immediately under my purple catsuit. I wondered what the guys waiting in the van outside made of all this - hearing what they had through the microphone, they were probably all getting rather turned on by this turn of events. Michelle winked at me as she placed a collar around my neck, and she used the attached leash to lead me out into the main room of the club... Heads turned to look at my helpless body but the noise continued unabated. I turned to speak to Michelle, but was surprised by her forcing a large black ballgag into my mouth - I mmmmmphed in surprise, but I doubted I was loud enough to be heard over the noise of the room. Certainly, my backup listening in through the microphone in my boot wouldn't have heard.

Two well-oiled men approached and grabbed me, keeping me in place while Michelle removed my boots. Did she know that that was where the microphone was? She slipped out of her shoes and put on my boots, grinning at me as she did so, before walking away in them. I screamed into the gag but it was to no avail - the two men manhandled me back to the office I had snooped around earlier... and none of the huge crowd of people in this fetish club came to my assistance.

"So, Laura, I'm pleased to finally meet you," said a man sitting behind the desk.

"Mmmmmph," I replied, struggling in the grip of the two strong men.

"We can't afford to have people like you snooping around this place. I have some very important... and influential... clients, who wouldn't allow my club to be shut down for any reason. And don't worry about your backup in the van outside... they will be dealt with. One way or another. Everyone has a price. And a weakness," he smiled, standing up and walking around his desk towards me.

"Mmmmmph!"

"So that just leaves me with the problem of what to do with you. I think I'll let you witness my little slave-trade operation first-hand. From the inside, as it were. Well, you are undercover after all..." he grinned, cupping my latex-covered breasts in his hand.

"Mmmmmph," I groaned, stamping on his foot (I really wished I was still wearing my stiletto heels) - he raised an eyebrow at me and stepped back, and the men either side of me strengthened their grip. I wasn't going anywhere.

"I like spirit in a woman, I see you'll fetch a good price. But if you're too spirited, well, we have a hypnotist who will calm you down... who will make you the obedient slave... and it will work, because you secretly want to be dominated."

"Mmmmmph!" I grunted into the gag, struggling harder - he only responded by smiling and pulling a pair of clover clamps from his pocket. He quickly applied them to where my hard nipples were straining against the tight material of my catsuit, and I gasped into my gag at the sudden pain.

"Take her away!"

I was escorted back to the main room, struggling harder, the chain between the clamps jangling as I moved, my nipples hurting despite the layer of latex protecting them. I was taken to a dark corner where the men attached a chain to the finger-end of my monoglove and hoisted it into the air, forcing me to bend over forwards in a strappado position. They then pulled my feet apart and held them in position with a spreader bar... and walked away. I was left there, dangling from this chain, helpless, drooling... and then I saw Michelle approaching, smiling. Something had changed about her. Aaah, that's what it was, she hadn't been wearing a huge strap-on dildo when I saw her last. She stroked my cheek, grinning evilly, and then unzipped my catsuit, all the way from the front of my neck, down between my breasts, down my tummy, around my crotch and up between my buttocks... exposing my distinct lack of underwear for all to see. I was beyond being embarrassed, all I could do was struggle, groan and drool as she lubed up her strap-on and announced to all that could hear her that this was going to be something they wouldn't want to miss.

I closed my eyes and bit down on the gag, bracing myself... but secretly, I was looking forward to it...