Intimate Intelligence
In a sketchy, dimly-lit London alley, a thin man handed his female companion a thick envelope. “Your entire fee is there,” he oozed, in a Russian accent. “All $50,000 of it. Are you prepared for this job?”
“Yeah, I guess, man,” she sighed, in an American accent. “But this is so fucking obvious! Aren’t you worried we’re gonna be caught?”
The thin man stayed silent for a moment, only blushing slightly. “I’m not the most experienced at this,” he finally admitted. “They won’t even let me near the polonium yet!”
“Alright, fine, fine, stop the crying. I’ll do it,” the woman said. She snatched up the envelope and looked up at the Russian with her luminous blue eyes. “Just tell me the who, where, and what.”
The Russian pointed down the long alley, at a discrete side door. “Those Royal Navy women are always going in and out of that building. It’s inconspicuous, but security is very strict. The building has no signage, no information available on what’s inside.” He turned to the blonde woman. “I need you to extract all possible intelligence from the next Navy сука to walk this way.”
The blonde woman raised a thin, perfect eyebrow. “That’s all? I may have cheated you.”
“You are the best,” the Russian shrugged. “It’s as simple as that.” He walked away, casually dropping his wallet on the ground as he left.
“You have no idea,” the blonde hypnotist laughed, picking it up and thumbing through his cash. Then, she sat down in the alley, grasping at her knee and moaning and sobbing most convincingly.
It was to Lucy Webster’s great misfortune that she was the poor сука to next pass down that alley. She was feeling good- she had just picked up a new outfit, and was quite looking forward to an outing that weekend with her mate Christina. But she had some time to spare- so when she saw a poor, sweet-looking woman in trouble, her sense of duty and morality took over her good sense.
“Oh, you poor girl, what’s gone wrong?” Lucy cried, crouching down over her fellow blonde. The hypnotist looked up at her with a flash of her piercing, almost glowing blue eyes.
“I’ve just been mugged!” the hypnotist sobbed. “They clubbed my knee, and I’m sure they would have done much worse if you hadn’t come along!” Lucy’s heart surged with pride.
“Oh yes, they often come after tourists,” she sighed. “I’m glad the Special Relationship accomplished something for once.” The hypnotist blinked her teary eyes, her face genuinely confused. “Because you’re American, you know. It’s a joke. Oh, never mind. Did they take anything?”
“No, thank god,” the hypnotist whimpered. “They tried to get my grandmother’s pendant, but the chain is, fortunately, very strong.” Then, she dangled a sparkling, shimmering pendant in front of Lucy’s eyes, hanging from a thin, sleek chain.
“So very strong,” Lucy mumbled, taken aback at the striking beauty of the pendant. It swung front to back, spinning slowly but never stopping. Bright bursts of light seemed to explode from the jewelry, and it felt like the world was getting so much hotter and louder. Lucy saw the American’s lips move, but no words came out. Finally, the bizarre head rush came to an end.
“Hey, are you okay?” the hypnotist said. “You look as if you’re gonna pass out.” Lucy shook her head, embarrassed.
“No no, I’m quite alright,” she said, standing and offering the American woman an arm. “Please, let me walk you to a nicer place than this.”
The hypnotist, doing a stunning impression of an injured leg, rose shakily and clung to Lucy’s arm. “You mean like the place you just came from?”
Lucy blushed slightly and shook her head again. “Erm, no, we can’t go back there. Private business.”
“Well, you could at least tell me what a strong woman such as yourself is doing there?”
Lucy’s eyes snapped open, and a conflicted expression crossed her face. But it settled into a slight smile, and she winked at the hypnotist. “Secret’s in the clothes.”
Well, that was easier than expected, the hypnotist thought. She groaned in pain. “I think it would make my knee feel much stronger if you made a tourniquet of your jacket.”
Lucy hesitated- she had gotten in trouble with her uniform far too many times. It had gotten to the point where she would trust strangers with her bank account sooner than her clothes. But this woman really needed her help, and her eyes were just soooo blue and kind… Lucy bit her lip and took off her jacket. Tearing it into workable strips, she made a fine tourniquet for her American friend. But they hadn’t taken three steps before she complained again.
“You know, I think it would be a lot stronger if you bound it with that spare skirt you’re carrying,” the hypnotist offered. Lucy frowned- she didn’t remember having a spare skirt- but when she looked down at herself she was embarrassed to find one cradled under her arm. “Oh, frigate! I’m so daft, I’d forget my head if it weren’t sewn on.”
Of course, there was no spare skirt. Lucy quickly unzipped the one around her waist and let it fall to the ground. As she picked it up and tore it into pieces, she was completely oblivious at the excellent view she was offering of her panties and stocking tops. The former, embarrassingly cutesy and girly, white with embroidered pink hearts and ribbons. The latter, a bit sexier with lacy loops and whorls made of sheer black nylon.
After a few moments, Lucy sighed with satisfaction and lifted the American woman up once more. They walked a few slow paces together as the hypnotist examined the ground for any secret slips of paper or memory cards. Finding nothing, she collapsed to the ground yet again. “Oh damn, the skirt pieces didn’t hold!”
Lucy furrowed her brow. “They seem fine to me. Are you sure you’re-”
“It really isn’t strong enough,” the hypnotist interrupted, staring at Lucy with her burning eyes. “You want to be strong, don’t you, Lucy? You want to help me, don’t you?” Lucy felt hot and dizzy all over again- for a moment, she swore she could feel air gliding past her pantied behind. But then, she blinked rapidly, clearing the mist, and saw that not only was she fully dressed, but the spare skirt had indeed failed.
“Oh, bugger,” Lucy grumbled.
A few minutes later, she stood in nothing but her hat, shoes, and underwear, standing at attention as the hypnotist desperately searched her shirt for the secret. The American woman was becoming impatient- she just wanted to get the job over with at this point. And besides, this Lucy girl looked like she had spectacular tits.
“It looks like you have a really strong pair of knockers,” the hypnotist grinned. “Would you mind showing me that spare bra you have there?”
Lucy blushed, deeply this time. This woman was so blunt and demanding- a real stereotype for sure. But at the same time, the poor sailor girl felt powerless to resist her- her and those incredible eyes. Giggling nervously, Lucy unhooked her matching bra and held it out to the American. “This feels so… freeing! I haven’t compared sizes with another girl since my academy days. At least not with her knowing…” Lucy gasped. She couldn’t believe she’d just said that. What was wrong with her today?
It was in that position, with a deep blush on her face, topless, with her luscious pink nipples saluting the sky, that Lucy was caught. A shop girl burst from the same door Lucy had exited, carrying a clipboard. At first, the poor girl was so winded she didn’t realize what was happening, but as Lucy stood there, frozen, breasts free as birds, the shop girl took in a second glance and stopped short. Her mouth dropped open, and she raised her clipboard over her face, shaking with laughter.
“Oh my god, Miss Webster, I’m so sorry,” the girl spluttered. “I didn’t know you were engaged with a, erm, friend, at the moment. In our alley. At 3 o'clock in the afternoon.”
“Duty calls anytime, anywhere, Elizabeth,” Lucy replied, planting her hands on her hips. “Now, what is it?”
Elizabeth peeked over her clipboard, taking in Lucy’s stiff nipples with great amusement. “You put in an order for 20 more uniforms, but you didn’t specify if you wanted them shipped to the base or your flat.”
The hypnotist slapped her own forehead and burst into laughter. Of-fucking-course. She had misinterpreted Lucy’s hint- the secret was the clothes. This was the Royal Navy girls’ uniform supplier, and if they were all as dense as this one was, it was no wonder they were in and out of there all the time.
“You know, my ankle feels so much stronger,” the hypnotist said. “I think I can make it to the bus on my own. Thanks, babe!” She quickly gathered up Lucy’s clothes and dashed away. She took a mental note of what her report to the Russian would say later- “This woman lacked any intelligence whatsoever.”
Meanwhile, Lucy stroked her chin, puzzled. “What an odd woman. I’m beginning to wonder if she was injured at all. Ah well.” Lifting her chin and smiling, she continued down the alley.
Shocked, Elizabeth whistled after her. “‘Ey! You might wanna pop back in, first!”
Lucy laughed. “Nice try, Elizabeth!” she called back. “You lot make enough of a fortune off of me.” Then the proud sailor continued down the street, blissfully unaware of her bare breasts, jiggling obscenely with each step she took.
My pal Dalek provided a brand-new image of my favorite Royal Navy girl as a starting point for this story. It was nervewracking and strange to write someone else's character for once. I felt so trusted, though, that I looked Lucy in the eyes (and a few other places), swallowed my fears, and said, "Look, it's you and me, Lucy. Let's get out there and do the ol' Emperor proud." And I hope I did! I certainly feel happy with it, and I hope you do too. Originally posted on Deviantart in 2018.