Thread: Capturing A Phantom (Athene & AlluringEnigma)

Elena Belrose The praise made Elena feel sick. Mostly, anyway. There was a very weak but still noticeable part of the Interpol agent which was relieved, but it was definitely not because of what she as doing. Fuck and no. Still, she truly hadn't wanted to get shot or have her ribs broken. The phrase 'good girl' had, therefore, been her reassurance. It was Elena's way of knowing that much wouldn't happen, at least. Damn straight. You just said I had to fucking do this not that it had to be perfect. Realizing her shirt was gone and her bra was in sight, Elena moved her hands down her body. They stopped upon reaching her legs and thighs, beginning to lightly stroke and touch her lower body. Soft sighs slipped past Elena's parted lips. How the fuck could someone hate yet love someone so much? Because ... that was the best way to describe her at the moment. Despising her for all the humiliation she was enduring. Yet .. even Elena couldn't deny this did feel good in some regards. Somehow, the fact she was performing for someone else was making this ... better? I -- ahhh! -- do not care for the money. Never have, never will. Passion ... mmff ... usually helps people in many other ways besides what I'm doing. I do have a love for helping out, and I realized earlier in my life it was especially strong when it came to criminal justice-related topics. No, Zara didn't ask for an explanation. But really, Elena hardly cared. Ahh, loopholes. They would be both her best friend and worst enemy, more likely than not. Still, the fact she was continuing to obey the order ... that would help out. Or so she hoped. Otherwise, it would be a very tense back-and-forth exchange between her and La Fleur. I know I am. I just ... wanted some input before I went through with removing those. ... It was true, too. The answer could have easily been interpreted as a simple method to stall. But ... that wasn't what Elena was going for. Not now, anyway. Maybe later. Maybe . As things were ... she swallowed, knowing Zara was correct. She was only half-way done with this task. Even if she didn't want to go through with it, she kept reminding herself of the other things she most definitely would rather avoid experiencing than more shame. So ... her head bowed, gaze averting as Elena gripped the edge of her jeans. Slim fingers lightly rolled over the button and zipper several times before finally ... she undid the denims. Slowly, the agent began lowering them down ... down ... down some more. All the while, she swayed her hips, both to amuse La Fleur and assist in shimmying out of the blue jeans. With her shoes having been kicked off earlier, Elena had no trouble in moving the pants down her ankles and finally slipping fully out of them. Now, she was officially half-nude in front of one of the most dangerous criminals residing in France. Poor Elena's face had turned a dark shade of red, almost perfectly matching La Fleur's dress. Nope. Never. Few beats, if any, were missed. The response was quick, almost instantaneous, as Zara insisted Elena loved and wanted to be in her spot. The only reason I would ever want to be in your spot, for now, is so I can stop being weaponless. But no. I don't sink to those kinds of degrees. Nor do I intend to. Unfortunately, Zara was quickly learning that even when she wasn't asking for answers, Elena very rarely kept silent. It was one of her other best and worst traits, as it most definitely had aided out in the agent getting in a fair amount of trouble. Now what? she asked in the most civil - yet simultaneously shaky - tone. Although she was refusing to verbally admit it, being forced to display herself and enter a very vulnerable state helped La Fleur realize she was right. Deep down, some part of the Interpol agent did love this, proved by the sight of her nipples already beginning to stiffen under her bra. It was't huge or overly obvious, but her panties were wet. Barely ... but enough to imply the moistness wasn't from any other source other than arousal.