Uniform Stealing Board

The Package Delivered

by EdStorm





She was on the 11:00 flight out of Denver back to the heartland. She was through security, but had to hurry; they could still be tailing her. The heels on her leather boots clicked rapidly while she navigated through the bustling throng of travellers. After the close calls out here in the mountains, she was paranoid, seeing the men adorned with black hats and sunglasses lurking in every conceivable hiding place.

They had almost got her back at the lodge - she'd hidden the suitcase well enough that she had been able to untie herself, bind and gag her captor, and recover it before they could finish searching - but they had to be watching even now; they were too thorough.

She saw one ahead, whether he was there or not, and lost her nerve. She ducked into the nearest bathroom, not thinking that it could be a trap. She set the suitcase before her on the counter, looking into the mirror at her hastily applied lipstick, remembering the sting of the duct tape coming off.

She gasped; there was one in the bathroom. It was the woman of course, in her slim, professional black skirt-suit. She wore her black sunglasses, dark lipstick shining on her pouting, angrily-scrunched lips. Last time she had seen this woman, she had been smearing clear packing tape over those lips, putting on the sunglasses over her eyes and taping her hands to the wheel of a car so that her predicament would be invisible from afar. She still had the car keys tucked away in the pocket of her leather jacket.

The villainess approached with a predatory stalk, heels clicking the floor - the shining shoes still bore tape marks from her bondage - but the suitcase couldn't be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. She grabbed it and hurried out, grateful once more for the crowds, frightened again by her paranoia.

The gate was closer than she thought. Liftoff time was only minutes away, but it felt like hours spent waiting and watching. At last, she handed her ticket over and hurried on board.

---

The time before takeoff was a nightmare. Every shadow that ducked into the cabin of the plane made her clench her fingers lest it rise and reveal itself as an enemy. But none did. There was not even a delay in the flight; they taxied to the runway, and she breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the earth faded away until it looked like only a map.

She scrutinized the face of every flight attendant as drinks were served, but saw no malevolence. Two hours passed without event, and she began to realize that she might hand off the suitcase at Ft. Knox with no further difficulty. She slid it under her seat, and decided to head for the bathroom.

Alone again, she looked in the mirror, and fixed her makeup. Her red hair fell straight and professional around her face, green eyes and pink lips shining with new confidence. She straightened her jacket and skirt, adjusted her boots, and emerged - to find her adversary in a flight attendant's uniform blocking her path, holding a gun.

"Come this way, ma'am," the wicked woman crooned.

She had no choice; she could hear the blood swirling madly in her temples at the failure, the humiliation of letting her guard down and being captured a second time; and they'd have the suitcase! There was nothing she could do; they were certainly ruthless enough to shoot her and hijack the plane.

The villainess guided her out of the main cabin and down through a hidden hatch into the cargo hold. She descended the metal ladder into the waiting arms of two more imposters in airline coveralls, who grabbed her roughly by both arms. She couldn't hope to subdue them.

Nearby, the real flight attendant lay, her body tied tightly into a ball with rope, her mouth stuffed with a rag and taped shut, wearing only her bra and thong. A large trunk sat nearby, open and empty; fear tore through her at the obvious implication.

"Alright," the villainess said, "do it. But strip her first, as punishment for what that bitch did to me." The men leered; one reached out for her jacket, the other unwound a coil of rope.

The villainess stuffed her mouth with a rag, her hand locked in place to hold it as the agent mumbled. Her leather jacket was taken away and ripped into shreds; one of which was pressed over her mouth and tied very tightly. The unyielding fabric gripped her face as securely as tape. They tore away her blouse and her skirt to leave her in nothing but her snug, strapless bra and sleek thong, both black and shimmery. The boots they left locked on her legs as they began binding her. They tucked her legs up close to her chest and tied them there with rope, then secured her hands behind her back. A hogtie was put in place from her wrists to her ankles, the linking rope tight enough between her buttocks to rival her thong.

The binding complete, one big man picked her up by her complex rope harness, even as she struggled violently, and placed her inside the trunk. Soon, the fligh attendant, a small blonde with a frantic, whimpering voice, was lowered into the confines of the case with her. The villainess smiled at them both as the lid came down and locked.

The stewardess started screaming behind her gag the moment the trunk snapped closed. The agent wanted to do the same, but it wouldn't help. Down here the engines were far too loud for the two bound women to be heard by anyone in the cabin. She flexed her muscles; the rope didn't give. After her last escape in Colorado, it seemed her persuers hadn't wanted to take the chance of her breaking free again.

Her fellow captive didn't share her collectedness. Cramped together in the trunk, she could feel the girl thrashing about, their bare legs and arms pushed up tightly against each other. All they could feel was the stewardess' struggling and the drifting motion of the plane. Nothing could be heard but their muffled mouths moaning.

She wondered what would become of them on landing. Was the trunk bound for a further destination? Did it have a designated recipient? What would be done with them when and if they arrived? She had heard stories of what her enemies did to their captives... Now they began to seem true.

She began to struggle in earnest now, thinking of the hours to come bound up in this dark, cramped space, followed by the horrors rumored to be in store for her at the hands of her enemies. Three captured operatives were supposedly bound each to a post on a canopy bed for the Spymaster's pleasure, with a fourth post waiting. Was she on her way to a life in chains?

She did not realize she was panicking until she found her training kicking in to calm her down. She breathed slowly and tried to assess the situation; the stewardess did not. She tried to mumble "Shmt mp!" at her fellow captive, and finally resorted to slapping at the girl's bare hip as hard as she could - not very. Her legs were beginning to go numb; not good. She would have preferred to escape when they were on the ground, but that wouldn't be possible if she couldn't move by then.

Her companion was her only hope. She inched closer to the girl as best she could, their bodies rubbing up tight together. She strained, the girl fought back; she fought harder. Then- at last! She had the struggling girl's fingers in her own, and she gave them a squeeze to try and calm her down. It took several tries - the girl may very well have been claustrophobic.

Finally, with several mmphed prompts, she got her fellow captive down to a calmer, muffled, rhythmic breath through her nose. Then, she began picking at the knots that bound the girl's hands. It was not easy; the lid of the trunk pressed right against their arms, it was so cramped, and the darkness meant there was no way to check her progress but by feel alone. She tried not to think of the rest of their bonds, looming like an insurmountable peak ahead, much less trying to open the trunk and defeat whoever might be guarding it. And then, there was the suitcase...

But back to the present! The girl's ropes were giving, and she began rocking and mmphing in anticipation of a small freedom. The ropes fell away, and she gave way to a hysterical laughter and a new bout of thrashing.

The agent waited patiently for the girl to calm down before pushing her own bound hands toward her fellow captive. The girl stopped clawing at her own bonds and began frantically picking at the agent's knots, while the redhead tried to remain patient and hoped the suburban-looking blonde somehow knew her way around ropes.

The girl's shaking fingers proved effective, however, and in minutes the agent felt blood flowing back into her free hands. But what next? She couldn't see where any of the other knots rested along her fellow captive's body, and couldn't reach much farther than the girl's hip. Gagged as effectively as they were, they couldn't talk about it; their only communication was in their blind groping, along one another's bare hips, thighs and waists, for more knots. The agent squealed once when, much to her humiliation, the girl began tugging at her thong, mistaking it for a rope. She mmphed and slapped the hand away, feeling her cheeks heat up. She was momentarily glad for the darkness.

Finally, the flight attendant stumbled onto a knot wedged in the flesh between the agent's thigh and hip. She pulled at it in her frantic way, giving the woman several scratches and jabs with her fingernails and eliciting more angry "mmphs" in the process. The agent waited patiently, however, and presently felt the ropes of her ball tie begin to slacken.

She felt her excitement run away with her, and didn't realize she had begun bouncing with anticipation just like her fellow captive. Mercifully, the ropes began to fall away, and with a few powerful, if sloppy, tugs in the confining space, she slipped about as free as the trunk would allow her.

She breathed a sigh of relief through her nostrils, and was about to take off her gag, when her companion began mmphing, wildly and loudly, for her to help. The agent found her fellow captive's gagged mouth and clapped her hand over it, the other hand on the back of the girl's head. They had to remain quiet for a little while longer.

She released the girl's mouth, and slowly ran her hands along the bare, heated flesh until at last she found the corresponding knot that had released her ball tie. She set to work on it as best she could, still gagged with the leather strip clinging tightly - now wetly - over her lips. The cramped confines and darkness of the trunk meant she had to operate with her arms around her tucked-up legs, doubly uncomfortable thanks to her high-heeled leather boots.

Soon, however, the girl gave a squeal of delight as the ropes slackened, and she contorted her body into relative freedom. She began to pull away her duct tape gag at once, but the agent again clamped a hand down to keep her mouth sealed shut. She turned the hand up to one index finger on the tape, shushing her. Their gags would help them now.

She began feeling along the upper edge of the trunk, realizing, as she had feared, that the only latches were outside. Kicking would only attract attention. They would have to wait a while longer...

But they did not wait too long. There were voices from outside, and suddenly a fumbling on the latch. The agent's body spun into position, heels straight up at the lid; she would have one chance, and if they were ready for her it would come to nothing.

The lid cracked open, the first blinding sliver of light pierced the dark, and she struck. She kicked the lid with all the force her weary body could muster, and it slammed into something - there was a groan, and a body fell outside the trunk.

Heart pounding, she scrambled to plant her heels against the floor and sprung up, opening the lid and leaping out before stumbling as pins and needles washed over her legs. But there was no threat; only a single guard in airport coveralls, lying unconscious on the floor. She gripped the trunk to stay up, and reached a hand in to help out her fellow captive.

At last, she pulled the gag off of her mouth, and nodded at the girl, who looked at her as though asking for permission to ungag herself.

"Oh my God, thank you so much, whoever you are!" the girl exclaimed after freeing her mouth. The agent shushed her again, then crept over to the incapacitated guard. She frisked him, and found a gun, which she took. The women's clothes were nowhere to be found; that was bad.

She decided she'd need something to escape in, so she began undressing the guard. Before she could don the coveralls herself, however, he began to stir.

"Quick, throw me some of that rope!" she ordered. The girl complied, and the red-haired agent began tying her adversary's fit body, clad only in his black boxer briefs, in a tight, complex hogtie. Two ropes linked the harness in front with his wrists by running snugly between his legs. She found the roll of duct tape and tied the leather strip in his mouth as a cleave gag before sealing it there with tape. Then, she and her companion managed to lift him and shut him in the trunk. They exchanged smiles.

"What now?" the girl said, hugging herself.

"Come with me; I need to check on something," the agent responded. She began searching through the cargo hold, moving aside stacks of luggage and stepping lightly over fallen briefcases. It was cold in the cargo hold in only her bra, thong and boots, and she had left the guard's coveralls behind. But there would be time; this was too important to put off.

Finally, she found what she was looking for. She turned to the girl, and gave her the gun.

"Take this, and shoot it at anyone who comes up on us," she ordered. The girl nodded, wide-eyed, and the agent turned to pull her checked luggage from the pile. She opened the briefcase and stared at the shimmering contents, a wicked smile on her pink lips. The decoy suitcase had worked; they hadn't found the real thing.

She snapped it shut when she realized the girl was peeking over her shoulder. "Alright," she said, standing, "let's make our way back to the cabin. We'll see if we can't get your uniform back."

"You mean this uniform?" the villainess stepped out from behind a pile of luggage. "Come and get it, you bitch."

Damn it! The agent thought; that evil witch must have found out the suitcase was a decoy and waited for me to lead her to the real thing! Now they'd have it, and there would be no further need of her or the poor flight attendant.

"At least let her go," she said with a nod toward the stewardess, holding the suitcase behind her with both hands, up against her bare, cold rump. The villainess laughed madly.

"Now why would I want to do that, when she's one of my best assets?"

The agent turned, stunned, toward the flight attendant, to find the young blonde wearing a satisfied smirk, one hand on her bare hip and the other pointing the gun right at her.

"Thank you my dear, you were wonderful" the villainess said. "Sorry about all the ropes, but I guess that's what our hostage training is for."

The agent felt the color drain from her cheeks. "You bitch." she said, stepping away from the girl. Then, from a pile of luggage behind her, a hand shot out and clamped a rag over her face, and in a moment she lost consciousness.

---

She awoke from a haze of chloroform, and knew that she was bound. The cold stung her bare arms and thighs where they were stretched out, above and before her respectively. A cold, hard pole dug into her back, leather straps buckled around her neck, elbows, wrists and chest linked to it by chains. She struggled to speak, and something blocked her mouth. She tasted leather, and her tongue probed a phallic protrusion attached to the muzzle harness on her face.

A hand pulled a blindfold away from her eyes, and she gasped at the light. Then, she saw her surroundings; her heart sank. She sat bound to one pole on a canopy bed. Three other women, all nude, chained and gagged, occcupied the other posts. Their bodies were fit and prime, the bodies of agents trained like her.

Agents captured and kept as trophies, like her.

A deep, wicked voice laughed above her, but she could not turn to look. She only gazed back and forth from one captive to the next, in the paralysis of a fear and humiliation she had never known.

"Now, I have the package I was really after all along." the voice said, a thick finger caressing her hair. "Welcome to my collection, agent. At last, it is complete."