The Bimbo Asylum: Bimbo Agent

"Toes in mouth," said Babs. The toes wiggled some more under the taught stocking silk.

The subservient woman's flash of anger made the moment deviously delicious for Babs, who showed her glee in having thought of more humiliating requests.

The Senator complied and sucked on the big toe. The lips pinched the silk in a pull back.

"No. Don't tug the stocking. Push it into your mouth. That's it my little bitch. Moan. Enjoy it slut. Make my assassin side feel like you're truly do-ly totally wotally into it."

"Mmmm, mmmmm."

A hand held the ankle and grabbed it even tighter. The cruelty seemed to get the bimbo off, so the Senator squeezed the ankle harder and stroked the silk covered leg up and down as the foot pushed into her mouth. The act was disgusting, degrading, deployable, wonderful. The view of Bab's sex reminded the Senator of the goal here. The bimbo could keep this limo ride going all night, but an orgasm would end this misery. With another faked moan, a hand stroked down the thighs and caressed the inner most thigh.

"I can see you thinking," said Babs. "You're plotting, hoping to end this quickly."

A stroke of the outer region followed.

"But I forgive you," cooed Babs, with one leg still held in the air and an honorable finger stroking ever faster. "I forgive you." Her eyes squeezed shut. Then they popped opened, "No. Wait. No finger fucking tonight. You're doing some deep tongue diving tonight." She pointed between her legs.

The Senator lowered the raised stocking leg and spread the thighs as she walked on her knees towards the heat.

"Hold my wrists to my side while you do me."

"Yes, Babs of course."

"That's Mistress, to you pet - my cuttie pet Senator."

"Yes Mistress. I will lick you now my Mistress."

"Stop. Now say that without the dead eyes and mechanical voice. I want passion."

Panic filled the Senator's face. She relaxed. Took a deep breath and smiled. "Yes my Mistress of course."

"No. Say it in a high pitch stupid ass voice like I'm forced to talk in now. Say it bitch!" She actually squeaked on that last exclamation.

The Senator rolled her shoulders back and composed her self. She was on her knees in her own limo being ordered about by a Bourne Identity capable slut. "I'm really, really sorry warry my moist Mistressie."

Babs laughed at the imbecilic exaggerated flirtatious movements the Senator performed, twisting and lifting her shoulders like a bad impression of Betty Boop.

"Stroke my thighs. Yes inner. Now say that again. Again. Again bitch. Higher pitch and lose track of what you're say - oh, god, you're getting better. Just let go of your pride and toss dignity out all together. Again. I'm seeing anger coming back to your face. Again. Now lick bitch."

It took several seconds of thigh kissing before the Senator built up the nerve to go in.

"Deeper. Wetter. Come on. Get with it my Senate Committee Chair of Pussy. Pin down my wrists. Hold them firmly to my side. Grab harder. Now stick that tongue deep down into me. Come on. You're a woman. You know where the deep hole is. Now stroke up taking that wonderful wetness up to the spot. Concentrate you stupid twat. Yes. You're a bi-curious lesbian whore now. I should leave you a ten spot stuffed in you wahoo so you know you've been bought. How does it feel to work for a living now? First time huh? No talking here. This is work - oh yeah. Now you're gett'in it. Faster, you dumb slut. Faster. Faster. Burn that tongue. You fucking cunt sucking bitchy worthless - I'm out of words! Bitch! You took my mind and now eat me out. Hah! Oh my god, I'm making a fucking Senator - a woman with a dark soul - tongue me. Oh my god, think about it. No, don't be going slow. I can feel your building anger and resentment. Keep gripping my wrists. It's so cute. I could twist and free myself and snap your neck in a second, but god this feels too good. Faster! You've got a half hour before I cum. Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. I'm one of those slow ones. Someone's going to talk like Elmer Fudd tomorrow."

Babs imitated a high pitch version of the cartoon character's clueless laugh. She gasped because of the bobbing effort in her lap. Her shivering body let the sexual build bolt from her control. She wanted to make this moment last longer. After all, how often do you get orders to threatened a Senator let alone demean, scold, and slap one.

It was too hard to hold back. Babs screamed. The limo driver jolted the car and recovered control. The sun had set and the passing streetlights flashed by as Babs let her body sink into the upholstery. Of course, the Senator quickly pulled back and ruined the moment with hopes and wonder: was over?

"Are we done, Mistress?"

"I said a high pitch voice. In fact, if you ever see me again and don't speak like a bimbo, even if you're at the podium, I'll cut something off of you."

The Senator feigned an apologetic high pitch voice, which then became a very fearful squeaky voice when Babs narrowed her eyes.

Sometimes resentment led to thoughts of entitlement. Both women felt entitled to glare at each other for a second. Then Babs, with a slight change in her leering glance, made it clear that a deadly rage could be unleashed from her side. "Remember, I'm a sniper rifle waiting for a headshot. You threw me away to the General. Remember? I do."

The Senator begged her Mistress for forgiveness.

"Strip," ordered Babs.

"What?" said The Senator in her normal voice. Then she switched to her bimbo voice, "I mean what?"

"I'm leaving you off naked in front of your brownstone stoop."

"But my husband - the press. The neighbors."

"I know it's shitty, but I'm still having to hold back my bimbo assassin desires to kill. You didn't tease me enough. I don't get out much and so I want you in more."

"I'll do it again. I so, so, so promise to get it right this time my Mistress honest please. Please. I'll lick like this. And kiss the inner thighs like this. Do you like that, my Mistress? Huh? Huh?"

"That was very very nice. I'm actually in the mood again. Stroke my legs." The blonde banged against a door panel. "Driver! Driver!"

The tinted window lowered revealing a brunette chauffer with one off centered ponytail. She had a black raccoon-like mask circling her wild eyes - wilder than even Babs.

"Hey Piddles!" said Babs. "What's with the mask?"

"I'm going incog-neat'o," said the dingbat chauffer. "The passing drivers seem to like looking at me. I like to wink back at them."

Babs huffed. "I think that ruins the covert aspects of this operation. You do know what covert means, right?" Babs gave up, shaking her head. "Shh, forget it. Film a Sting video for all I care. Now take us to Baltimore and back. My bitch here wants to work for a living."

The tinted glass separator raised and sealed the back compartment in darkness.