Captive Spies: Harriet vs Natalie
Deep within the Siberian wilds stands a maximum security prison. Inside, captives...mostly foreign intelligence agents...whom the Russian government wish to make utterly disappear are incarcerated. In the women's wing are two Americans, Harriet Welsch ("Harriet the Spy") and Natalie Connors ("Agent Cody Banks"), both identified by Russian Intelligence as being affiliated with the CIA. Both were captured separately as each tried to infiltrate the 'harem' of a highly connected Russian oligarch with global criminal enterprises. Their covers exposed, they were seized and spirited off to this prison. Both were given several months to try...and fail...to escape, until both young spies ruefully concluded that they were well and truly trapped. Once that realization settled in, it became child's play for their captors to mentally break them down and re-sculpt them as their saw fit.
Their days were not spent within dreary cells. Rather, they were pampered with luxurious suites, for they were not mere prisoners. Rather, the oligarch and his Russian military acquaintances would come to the facility every few weeks to watch as pairs of captives battled one another in an apartment wrestling match. The winner continued to live in luxury, while the loser was sent to spend a month in "the hole", a solitary confinement cell deep within the bowels of the prison. Upwards to a dozen women from around the world were treated thus, and several matches would be held each time the Russian kingpin visited.
Harriet and Natalie had both had several matches during their incarcerations here, winning some and losing others, so both knew full well that defeat was to be avoided. They had never fought one another before, but that would change tonight.
Their training for apartment wrestling had been hard. Both were well-schooled by the CIA in hand-to-hand combat, but with the intent to kill. Here, they were forbidden to kill, or even to seriously injure. That meant extensive re-training, overseen by the 'dowager empress' of the prison, an elderly one-time British agent known only as Peel. Matches were to be waged until one combatant submitted, or was knocked out. Seriously injuring an opponent could land the offender in the hole, even if she was technically the winner of the battle.
After months and months of this existence, Harriet and Natalie no longer thought of themselves as agents, or even as Americans. In their own minds, they were gladiatrix for their masters, and they lived only to please them with victory...and spare themselves the dregs of defeat.
Garbed in expensive lingerie, the two launched at one another like snarling jungle cats. Their battlefield was the large living room of the suite used by the oligarch on his visits, with plush carpeting and several overstuffed leather chairs that seated the spectators, who sipped brandy was they watched the brawl unfurl. The brunette and the blonde both proved themselves evenly matched, with neither able to hold the advantage over the other for long. Soon enough, their flimsy lingerie was torn to shreds, leaving them in only their black lace thongs, their taut bodies glistening with sweat as each panted for breath.
Harriet seemed to be taking control of the fight as her hands clamped down on her rival's breasts, squeezing and twisting them as the soft flesh bulged between her stiletto-like fingers. Nearly paralyzed with agony, Natalie seemed on the verge of submission...until suddenly she managed to marshal the power to throw a palm blow to her tormentor's chin. Head snapping sharply to the side with a spray of perspiration, Harriet released her handholds and stumbled several steps. Slipping up behind her opponent, Natalie grasped the brunette's thong and wickedly yanked it up, the fabric cutting deeply and painfully up into Harriet's butt and crotch, causing her to shriek in agony. Now it was the brunette's turn to be on the verge of surrender...at least until an elbow thrown desperately behind her smashed into the blonde's temple, stunning her and freeing her adversary.
After several more minutes of scuffling and stalemate, both battlers found themselves in a duel of headscissors. The oligarch and his friends leaned forward excitedly in their seats as the two proud warriors clamped their powerful thighs around the head of the other; muscles tensed like steel cords as their legs tightened their grips like steel vises. Natalie and Harriet gasped and mewled as they poured their rapidly-melting strength into their legs, their bodies trembling from the exertion. "Give...up...you...fucking...bitch!" Natalie snarled, as much a command as a plea. Holding back a sob of anguish, Harriet hissed, "Never...to...you...whore!"
Finally, inevitably, one beauty's battered body could no longer meet the demands of her fiery spirit. With a trilling whine, Natalie suddenly went limp, her legs falling over to release her rival. Harriet, her face purple from the exertion, gasped "Ohthankgod!", and then her own legs snapped open, unable to maintain the crushing pressure any longer. But the brunette was not yet finished. She knew from experience what the oligarch liked in the aftermath of the matches...a touch of haughty triumph from the winner, and humiliation for the loser. Having taken note of how the spectators had admired her shapely derriere, Harriet decided to put it to work, and she climbed atop her fallen foe's chest, then settled her cheeks down over the blonde's face, smothering her. Natalie gave a muffled protest, her legs squirming weakly, but otherwise she had no resistance left to offer. As the spectators clapped and cheered, Harriet commanded the butler, in Russian, to bring her a brandy. She then looked to the oligarch and, a sultry smile on her lips, purred, "After I'm finished with my throne here, toss her weak ass into the dungeon!"
