James was standing there naked, his exposed penis throbbing and bouncing up and down in all it's 14 inch majesty. His hands were handcuffed and were raised above his head, attached to a wire-rope that hung from the ceiling. He was fully erect, yet he was not enjoying himself as much as he should have been. It kind of seemed like he was in a dream, but he knew that it was all too real.

The day had begun innocently enough. James had awoken still feeling the effects of the impromptu party of the previous evening. This time he really wished he was dreaming. Kristy had roused him from a deep slumber.

"Come on, James, are you going to sleep all day?"

"What time is it, he asked groggily?"

"Time to get up...and time to get it up. Come on...I think you need to do a little cock stroking for your darling Kristy."

"Not now," pleaded James. "I'm not up to it."

Kristy grabbed his still flaccid penis and slapped it against his chest. "What's the matter? This is the first time you haven't had morning wood since I can remember. And last night, you let Bruno jack off before you. You're slipping."

Last night. It was starting to come back to James. "Did Bruno really grab my...uh...you know what?"

"Grab it," exclaimed Kristy! "Damn, he sucked it!"

"Oh, I was afraid of that."

"You're not threatened, are you? It was all in good fun."

"Good fun? For who?"

"For everyone," Kristy replied. "You seemed to enjoy it. You shot a load of cum."

"Yeah...well...that couldn't be helped."

"I know...that's why I love you, James. But can't you get it up for little old me?"

"I need a day off, Kristy."

It was shortly before eleven when the limousine pulled up to James's apartment. Inside were Elena and Olga. Bruno wasn't there, thankfully. James didn't feel like facing him at the moment. Elena had on a fashionable pantsuit, looking sharp as ever, while Olga was still in her standard-issue uniform. Unfortunately for James' libido, Elena had some papers and a notebook placed beside her on the seat, so James had to sit next to Olga. Most men would not consider that a bad thing, but it denied James the chance to focus on her milky white thighs. He feared that he was running out of chances to catch a glimpse her panties.

Sitting next to Olga, and being sober, made James aware of her delightful fragrance. Whether it was perfume, shampoo, body spray or soap he did not know, but Olga smelled like freshly cut flowers. Maybe sitting next to her wasn't so bad after all. It still kept the fantasy alive of getting a peek under her skirt and, who knows, maybe the thrill would be gone once he achieved his objective, and James loved the thrill of the chase, the panty chase. James discreetly adjusted his trousers to accommodate Mr. Penis, who was starting to react to Olga's aroma, not to mention her milky white thighs, which taunted James by their mere existence.

They were on their way to the house where the breast cancer event was to take place. Today was audition day for James, Bruno, and anybody else who was hoping to participate in the Mister Nude International competition. The diamond smuggler was alleged to be among the competitors, hence James' undercover mission. He was so used to being naked by now that the thought of auditioning to be a Mister Nude contestant neither threatened nor intimidated him. He had no idea how many females would see him naked today; the more the merrier, he thought. James had come a long way since his days of being a reluctant nudist.

"Elena," James said, "if we're undercover, isn't Olga going to be conspicuous in her uniform?"

"Olga...no problem," said the Special Agent of the Russian Main Intelligence Directorate.

"Olga is working security for the event," Elena explained. "The men who are in the competition have to put their clothes and belongings somewhere...they're going to provide baskets or portable lockers...and Olga has been hired to guard them."

"But the uniform..."

"I doubt if anyone will be familiar with the uniform of the Russian Main Intelligence Directorate. To them it will simply be a security uniform."

"Olga okay," interjected Olga.

James had met the competition director, if indeed that was her title. She was a thirty something woman of nondescript appearance, someone who couldn't get Mr. Penis's attention. James would have no qualms about stripping in front of her. He had filled out the paperwork and handed it to her, and very shortly thereafter he was asked to remove his clothes. James turned around sheepishly, but Elena and Olga were not in the vicinity. That helped a little. There would be no embarrassing temptations fort Mr. Penis. He stripped down to nothing, and as he lowered his boxer shirts his mammoth penis sprung to life, basking in the freedom. It was a little disconcerting when two pretty young assistants came into the room. They were there to take measurements.

"Measurements," James asked, with some surprise. "Isn't it obvious..."

"Oh I can see that you'll meet the eligibility requirements, but we need to measure everything...for our files. Now spread your arms."

One of the pretty young girls took a tape measure and wrapped it around James upper chest. Forty four inches. Then the waist, which was thirty two inches. Mr. Penis tingled as the girl worked her way downward. She got down on her knees and stared at his cock for a moment or two, savoring the view, and then she proceeded to measure.

"Eleven inches," she said.

"That's not right," said James indignantly. "Perhaps it you pulled on it a bit." Normally James wouldn't care, but his manful pride had been a bit wounded by Bruno the night before. Not to worry, as the sight of a pretty young girl on her knees, gaping at James' cock, was sufficient for Mr. Penis to reach full mast on its own accord.

"I think you're the favorite to win the contest," said the director. "You'll fetch a lot of money."

It wasn't easy, but James managed to tuck Mr. Penis inside his boxer shorts. Putting on his pants was another matter. The young girls giggled as James struggled to tame the wild beast. An orgasm would have been very useful right about now, but it was not the proper time and place. James mustered as much dignity as he could, finished dressing and left in search of Elena and Olga.

"Hey, aren't you Doyle?"

Startled, James turned and saw a somewhat familiar face.

"Leon," isn't it? Leon...uh...Leon Tomlinson, right?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm entering the competition. What are you doing here?"

"Same thing, man. Since when do cops do this sort of shit?"

James had to think fast. He didn't want to blow his cover. "I...uh...I'm on a thirty day suspension...without pay, I might add. I used my gun when I shouldn't have...department rules...I need to earn some money. I heard about this and thought, why not."

"Well, said Leon, "you're only gonna get second place. You know what they say about African-American males? Well, I'm gonna prove it tomorrow."

James hung around, waiting for his Russian colleagues. A few minutes passed and Leon left the room, smiling.

"Man, that's the best interview I ever had. See ya tomorrow."

Elena showed up and James expressed his concern to her. He thought that his cover was still intact, but Leon had a long history of being a high-class pimp and a low-class drug dealer. He hadn't a reputation for expensive jewelry theft, but once a criminal always a criminal.

"I don't think a guy like him could be involved in such a high profile crime," said James, "but we should definitely keep our eye on him tomorrow."

James and Elena watched as Leon walked towards the street. As he did, he encountered Olga, who was walking to the front of the house where James and Elena stood.

"Hey there, sweet britches," said Leon. "What's a nice girl like you..."

THUMP!

Elena smiled. "It looks like Olga got another one," she said, watching with delight as Leon crumbled to the ground. "I wonder if he'll still be able to compete tomorrow."

Elena and Olga conversed for a moment in Russian. "Olga has to go back to the hotel. James, would you go with her?"

"She needs an escort?"

"It's better if Olga doesn't go on her own," said Elena. "This country is very strange to her. Afterwards we can meet at your police headquarters and go to lunch."

"Sounds good," said James.

Finally, James had an opportunity to sit opposite Olga in the limousine. Unfortunately, Olga's legs were pressed tightly together and angles towards the door. She was either being demure or sensed that James was a panty pervert. He hoped that it was not the latter. With just the two of them in the car, it would have been way too obvious had James been staring at her milky white thighs, and James didn't want to get caught peeking. He was leery of Olga's boot, and he did not want to be victim number three."

"You go," Olga said to the driver, after he dropped them off at the hotel.

"But aren't we going to..."

"We go to room." said Olga. "Driver come later." Olga seemed to have a good understanding of English, but she spoke it with a little difficulty. She had to think out the words before she said them, so she spoke slowly. James found that it just added to her eroticism.

In the elevator Olga was all smiles. "You want to see..uh...my inter...integation?"

"You mean interrogation."

"Ja, inter-o-gation. How I do it?"

James was starting to like the way this was turning. Could it be? Was his dream about to come true?

Olga's hotel room was quite nice, as befitting a posh Beverly Hills hotel. It was large and comfortable, almost luxurious. James didn't quite know what Olga had planned, but it sounded promising. An interrogation? He'd love to see her in action, and he loved the idea of being under her power. This would be Olga at her finest, her hottest. James felt the stirrings of an erection. Wait, change that; it had gone beyond the stirring stage. He was packing at least 12 inches, maybe 13. Mr. Penis was chomping at the bit to be released from its prison of cloth. James was getting very excited.

"We play now...ja?"

"Ja," said James. trembling with anticipation.

"You do, I say...ja?"

"Ja!"

"Clothes," Olga said, a little more sternly than anticipated. "Take off...ja?"

James did as he was told. He always imagined Olga as a dominatrix. He craved Olga as a dominatrix. Were his wildest fantasies about to come true?

James stripped hurriedly and stood facing her, quivering with anticipation. His cock was pretty close to 14 inches, and James, ever the show off, flexed his stomach muscles to get his penis to flop against his belly. If Olga was impressed, she was disguising it well, but that was all part of the game, wasn't it?

Olga went to the closet and returned with a black satchel bag. In her other arm she carried what seemed to be a rolled up mat, sort of like a yoga mat. Olga unrolled the mat, looked up at the ceiling and placed it on the floor right in front of where James was standing. As she did, James was able to look down the small opening of her blouse. He was able to see her white bra, and Mr. Penis reacted in approval. Olga's breasts weren't large, but they sure looked firm and perky. Mr. Penis wasn't complaining.

"Stand here," Olga instructed, pointing to the mat. James obliged. Olga reached into the satchel and took out handcuffs.

"Hands please," she said, and James stuck his hands out for her. She then proceeded to handcuff him. The cuffs were made of soft plastic and had a smooth surface where they touched the skin, so there was no chafing or discomfort. James took this to mean that this was going to be interrogation-light. He trembled with expectation.

Olga then took a hook from out the bag. It was made of hard plastic. She looked up at the ceiling and brought a chair over and placed it right behind James. "Stand chair," she said, and James did as he was told. Olga held the back of the chair for support. By doing so, James penis was just inches away from Olga's face. He could feel her breath on his enlarged member. His main concern right now was for Mr. Penis to behave himself and not erupt too soon. James was hoping to savor this experience for as long as possible and, besides, Olga might object to premature ejaculation. Her boot was always a presence, as a threat.

Olga removed a paper covering from the top of the hook, revealing a layer of a sticky substance on the top of it. She had James affix the hook to the ceiling, and then had him get off the chair and stand back on the mat. She then removed a long wire-chain, about six feet in length, clipped it to the handcuffs, and stood on the chair herself, and fastened the wire-chain to the hook. She pulled on the chain and this forced James' arms over his head. Olga's pelvic area was virtually parallel to James' upper body and only inches away. James thought that he could feel the heat of her feminine area. He was really getting turned-on.

Olga stood back down on the floor and pulled hard on the chain.

"Hey, ow," said James, startled, as his upper body strained to meet the demands of the chain.

"Good," said Olga, in a very precise manner. "We begin." She seemed to be taking this more seriously than James had expected. Olga removed the chair and placed it off to the side. She then began to circle around James, inspecting her work. James was buck naked, standing on a mat that was about four square feet. He was handcuffed, and the handcuffs were attached to a wire-chain that was affixed to a hook that had been secured to the ceiling. He was immobilized, or at least immobilized enough for interrogation purposes. James figured that Olga was going to show him how she interrogated prisoners in Russia. But he wasn't a real prisoner, so surely she wouldn't be as harsh as she could be. It was all play-acting, right?

James took inventory, James-styled inventory, that is. He had caught an accidental glimpse of her bra. It was white, which was his preferred color for that sort of garment. Whether it was lacey or simply a plain one he could not tell. But he had seen her bra, could her panties be far behind? James cock was sticking straight up. His stomach muscles were tight, due to Olga's pulling on the chain. There was no give for James to relax his body. The chain forced him to stand taut and upright. She had manipulated it so that James could stand on the bottom of his feet; which was a good thing, as he knew that Olga could have forced him on to his tip-toes. She was in command. But James' entire upper body was imprisoned by the situation and he was unable to control his large cock with his stomach muscles. Oh well, he thought, as least she saw me bounce it around earlier.

Olga walked around James a few more times, nodding her approval. Mr. Penis was begging for attention. It was the full 14 inches. Olga reached into the satchel. As she did she bent down ever so slightly and James was within an inch of seeing what he craved to see. He began to spasm a little and for a moment he thought that he was going to lose control, but Olga quickly turned around and her stern look intimidated Mr. Penis into submission. The beginning stage of pre-cum had begun to formulate at the tip of his cock-head.

Olga pulled out a paddle from the satchel, perhaps a little larger than a ping-pong paddle.

"We play game. I ask. I like answer..." and she gently tapped the underside of his balls with the paddle. "Good, ja? I no like answer..." Olga took a step to James' side and whacked him fairly hard on his butt with the paddle.

"Hey, whoa, what the hell are you doing?"

WHACK!

"I talk...you no talk....How long you know Elena?"

"Elena? I just met her, the same time I met you."

WHACK!

"What's wrong with you?"

WHACK!

James' butt was starting to sting. "What do you want to know," he pleaded?

"Black man. How long you know?"

What black man?"

WHACK! WHACK!

"Hey, oh you mean Leon? He's a criminal, I arrested him once before. That's all."

James' butt was stinging, but his cock was twitching and bouncing. The paddle had not scared off Mr. Penis. Olga stared intently at James' 14 inch monument to manhood, much the same way that she had stared at the video last night. It commanded her full attention. James wondered whether she was getting aroused by the sight of his erect, enormous cock.

"Why black man at house today," she asked?

"He's entering the contest."

Olga walked up to James and he assumed that he was going to get another whack, but instead Olga took the side of the paddle and playfully bounced it off of James' boner, which bounced in joy at the sensation it caused.

"Black man your...your...uh...partner?"

"Partner, what, are you crazy?"

WHACK!

"Ow, that hurts." James felt a burning sensation that extended from his butt down to the back of his knees.

"I no like answer," said Olga. "Why black man contact you?"

James said nothing.

Olga walked over to the satchel bag and removed what looked like an electrical extension cord. As awkward as the situation was, James was still hoping for a glimpse of Olga's panties, but he was disappointed again. Olga came back to James, kneeled down and inserted the end of the extension cord into the mat. Her blouse opened up even more than it had before, and James could see down her chest all the way to the top of her skirt. Her bra was very plain, but that paled in importance to the fact that James was able to make out the mounds of her perky, firm breasts. He had seen something that he was not supposed to see. In his mind that meant that he had gotten one over Olga. Mr. Penis spasmed on its own, without any help from James, and he could sense that more pre-cum was oozing out. Olga then placed the other end of the extension cord into a wall outlet, and James realized that the mat had electrical impulses inside of it, which were now glowing red and beginning to make a light but audible humming noise.

Olga stared at James with fierce eyes. "If mat get wet," she said, "you...uh...electra...uh...electro..."

"Electrocuted?"

"Ja...elec-tro-cuted...we wait."

James began to get concerned. If Olga was playing around she was disguising it well. This was getting serious, and it also was making Mr. Penis a little uncomfortable. James' cock began to retreat, and 14 inches got downsized to 12 inches, which is where it stabilized. If there was anything positive to this, James thought, as least an ejaculation was no longer imminent. He was still aroused, but his arousal was back under control.

Olga then went back to the satchel and took out a strange device. It was a small wire-loop, and attached to it were two steel balls that clicked loudly when they came into contact with each other. Olga stood before James and again kneeled down. This time James was too frightened to stare down her blouse. What on earth was this woman planning now?

Olga carefully took the wire-loop and placed it over James' cock, stopping once it was just over the cock-head. As soon as her hand made contact with Mr. Penis, even though it was slight and incidental, 12 inches quickly grew to 14 inches, and James had a massive boner that, under ordinary circumstances, would have made him very proud. James' cock-head was extremely large - no surprise there - and Olga was able to secure the wire-loop under the head, right where it meets the shaft. Olga pulled on the contraption, and it tightened around the underside of his member. It didn't hurt, but neither did it tickle. It was a little uncomfortable, but it was bearable.

No sooner had Olga finished her job then the clickety clack of the steel balls commenced. The weight of the steel balls had put pressure on James' erect penis, and pried it away from its upright position and forced it into a downward arc. But an erection is a phenomenon that often has a mind of its own, and it wanted to return to its upright position. Thus James cock was bouncing up and down in a battle of wills. The sensation of the steel balls also was causing the fluid inside James' cock to heighten, and James was aware that his cock was bulging and pulsating in a way that he had never before experienced. The tension in his cock was acute. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. It felt like his penis had become its own entity, separated from his body and brain. James had never been so aroused in all his life...so he thought.
Olga stared at James for what seemed like minutes but was probably just a few seconds. She then walked to where she had previously placed the chair and brought it around in front of James, about six feet from where he stood. She sat down. The steel balls began to click with more frequency and velocity. Olga's thighs never looked more inviting, and making matters worse, she acted as if she knew it.

James could feel that he was close to cumming. But, wait, if he did...cum was fluid, wasn't it? Oh no. Was this how it ends? This cunning little devil, James thought. She gets me aroused, and if I cum I'll die.

Olga crossed her legs. Oh my god, James thought. Her panties! He could see them. He could clearly see the triangle of cloth as it peered out from Olga's crossed legs. The skirt had lifted just enough, and better yet, it wasn't a fleeting view. As long as Olga held her position...

The panties were blue, a light blue, baby blue. James' body quivered. He felt like had just taken a trip to heaven, but he had to resist. He could not cum. He did not want to die.

Olga uncrossed her legs, and as she did, James caught an even fuller view of her baby blue panties. He saw more than just a triangle. He had brief but clear view of virtually the entire panty. Olga was making no attempt to be modest. She had returned to her original sitting position with her legs in front of her with knees pressed together, but her skirt had risen just enough so that he panties were still on display. Just barely, They were peeking out from under her hemline. Olga could see that James was staring at her with unbridled lust. The constant clickety-clack of the steel balls confirmed her suspicions.

Never before had James desired a woman as much as he did Olga at this very moment. The way she looked at him, just staring, studying him like he was an experiment. Those thighs, that incredibly short skirt, those baby blue panties...James could feel himself losing it. This woman; she was half devil and half angel. So this was her insidious game. Turning him on so much that he would ejaculate; yet, at the same time, all too aware that ejaculation would mean electrocution.

Olga just sat there, motionless, expressionless. James wondered whether she knee that he could see her panties. Did she care, or was this part of the plan? The steel balls kept up its running battle with James' cock muscles. It flapped harder, and the clicking of the steel balls got louder. He could feel the semen building up in his cock shaft. The tightness of the wire-loop under his cock head was now working as a stimulant. It made his cock tingle. It was a pleasant irritant. It made his penis more sensitive and tighter, and even harder, if that was possible. James realized that he was real close to cumming.

"Please, Olga, unplug the cord," he pleaded. Olga remained unmoved.

Olga crossed her legs again. That drove James over the threshold. His body began to buck and shake. His breathing became more forced. It was now beyond his control. He was about to ejaculate and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Olga, I'll say anything...okay, I stole the diamond...I'm sorry...I stole it...please, unplug the cord, please. Olga...I'm gonna cum...oh no...please...Olga...Olga...I can't hold it...AARRGGHH!"

A massive burst of semen shot out of James penis like rocket fire and flew over Olga's left shoulder. It might have set a long distance record for ejaculation. A second burst landed her on her knee and dribbled down on to her booted leg. A third blast hit the floor between them. A fourth got ever so closer to the mat. James was too convulsed with pleasure and relief to care. A fifth, a sixth...who know how many more, landed on the mat. Thirsty seconds later, when the bursts of pleasure finally subsided, James was left whimpering. Had his body not been held up by the chain he would have slumped to the ground in exhaustion.

Suddenly James was aware that he was still alive. He had not been electrocuted. He stared at Olga with eyes opened wide.

Olga got up, walked over to the wall and unplugged the electrical cord. She made sure that she bent down in a way which would cause her skirt to rise. James had earned the right to the view.

Olga looked at the mat upon which James was standing. "If we in Russia," she said, "you dead."