Agent 38: The Captivity Test (Part 3) (Various/F)

[TamatoaShiny123]

AN: This story was made w/[mention]@bobafettish1[/mention]’s blessing; he even gave me the idea!

Also, this story will be partly be “choose your own adventure” where you can vote on what happens to the agent! So...yay! Anyway, here’s part 1:

So, you want to hear how I became an official agent, eh? Well, I can’t go through the entire process, as it contains extremely classified information. But, I suppose I could tell you about the final test I had to pass to get to where I am: the captivity test.

Perhaps I should back up. It all started several years ago. The agent who had taken me under her wing was [NAME REDACTED], better known as Agent 66. She taught me much of what she knew, such as stealth skills, martial arts, weaponry, marksmanship, and much much more. After nearly three years of training, I was ready to join The Agency in the field. But there was one more thing I had to do...

oOo

“The captivity test.”
“The what?”

I was sitting in Agent 66’s office. She had called me in to discuss something that was, in her own words, “imperative to becoming an official agent”. 66, roughly five years older than me, was wearing a black skirt, white blouse, black leggings, red stilettos, and had her blonde hair in an impeccable bun. As for me, I was wearing a grey sweater, dark blue jeans, brown combat boots, and had my red hair done in a slightly less neat bun.

“The captivity test,” she repeated. “It’s the final step to becoming a certified agent here.”
“See, ‘captivity’ is the word that’s holding me up here. What even is that?”
“It’s a test that simulates what could happen if you ever captured during a mission. Here’s what’s to happen: at a time unknown to you, you will be kidnapped and brought to a secret location. There, you will be interrogated and tortured until you break. Your goal is to not break and get out of the cell or whatever your being held in and get outta there!”
“Woah woah, ‘torture’?!”
“Yep. And we don’t go easy on you either.”
“What kind of torture we talking? Watching high school students attempt improv?”
“That, my friend, is classified. But that’s a no on the improv thing, though. We aren’t THAT cruel.”

I felt uneasy. “Look, I try to avoid torture. So, is there any way to...ya know...not do this?”

66 shook her head. “‘fraid not. You gotta do it in order to become certified. And if you fail and give up, you have to do it over again.”

I sighed, resigning myself to this. “So, when is this gonna take place?”
“For a spy, you’re not a very good listener,” she replied with an eye roll. “It can start at any time. Starting...now!”

She suddenly sprang up and drew a pistol at me. Startled, I slipped and fell out of my chair, trying to back away. She aimed, pulled the trigger, and...it was water.

“Hah! Gotcha!” she giggled. “Just wanted to keep ya on your toes.”

I stammered something, nodded, and got the hell out of the office.

oOo

For the next few days, I was uneasy as hell. In my mind, everyone in the agency suddenly looked very suspicious. I would try to stay out of sight (and therefore out of mind) from as many people as possible. And if I HAD to do something (mostly training exercises), I did it and got out of there ASAP.

And Agent 66 made zero attempts to ease my paranoia. In fact, she was actively screwing with me; when we went out to eat, she’d look down at my plate, then up at me, and then she’d smile, asking why I was hesitating to eat. It was only after I meticulously inspected my food for the hole a drug-laced syringe would make that I’d start eating, earning a giggle from 66 each time.

My paranoia didn’t end when I got home. The second I got home, the door was locked shut, as were each and every window. I survived on leftovers from the fridge, fearful that any takeout I ordered would be intercepted and laced with knockout drugs. I even went as far as to place a little set of wind chimes in front of the door to alert me if anyone broke in. I was just waiting-waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Finally, it did.

[Caesar73]

Well, that introduction is - how shall I put it? - intriguing, very much so Let the games begin!

[TamatoaShiny123]

Thank you [mention]@caesar73[/mention]. I already have part 2 ready, so I’ll post it later today!

[TamatoaShiny123]

It wasn’t until a full week later that the other shoe dropped.

It was around 5AM in the morning, seven days removed from when I was told what was to happen. I was sound asleep in my bed, my guard completely down. My lack of awareness (due to my lack of consciousness) proved to be my downfall, as a gloved hand suddenly clamped down over my mouth and nose.

“Surprise, Agent 38! You’re being kidnapped!”

My eyes shot open. I was being pinned down by a figure wearing all-black and a matching balaclava to hide their face. Despite this, I knew for a fact that this was Agent 66; I recognized the bits of blonde locks peeking out from her mask’s hole, not to mention the fact that she didn’t bother disguising her voice.

I managed to slip my mouth away from her hand. “66?! YOU’RE my kidnapper?!”
“I figured that a friendly face-“
“A friendly face who’s kidnapping me?”
“A familiar face,” she corrected, “would help ease you into this. Now, you WILL be leaving with me, 38. But I’ll give you the choice: you can go quietly, or you can go down swinging.”

I pretended to consider the choices presented to me for a second before kicking 66 in the ankles, knocking her off of my bed. I got to my feet, charged at her...

...only for my body to seemingly betray me. I went limp and fell onto my carpeted floor.

66 haughtily stood over me. “What’s wrong, 38? Body not working?”
“What did you do to me?!”

She waggled her gloved hand over my face. “This glove of mine was blasted with a nerve gas earlier. One good whiff of the gas temporarily paralyzes the smeller from the shoulders down. It doesn’t affect breathing or your heartbeat or anything major like that, but you won’t be mobile for a while.”

I growled. “When do I get access to some of that stuff?”
“As soon as you pass this test. Only certified agents get access to nerve gas as well as discounted admission prices to national landmarks. Now let’s get this show on the road!”

As 66 picked up my limp body and placed it onto my bed, a thought occurred to me. “Hey, how’d you get in here?”
“Came through the window.”
“But I locked it last night. And I definitely would’ve heard if you tried to unlock it.”
“Didn’t have to,” she answered, pointing to my window.

I turned my not-paralyzed neck and saw there was a decently-sized hole in the window, presumably caused by a glass cutter. “You’re paying to repair that. This place is a rental.”
“It’ll come outta the Agency’s wallet,” she dismissively stated. After waving the glove under my nose for another five seconds to ensure that I stayed immobile, 66 took the glove off and grabbed a handkerchief and plastic bag from her pocket. She wrapped the glove in the hanky and placed the handwear into the bag.

My captor then walked over to two duffle bags that she apparently brought in with her. Opening one bag, she pulled out another form of handwear. It was a pair of pink padded mittens and unfortunately for me, I was destined to be the wearer.

“I’m gonna make you quite secure for transport,” 66 told me as she slipped them on, tightening the straps around my wrists. “The first step is to immobilize your prying fingers.”

66, as expected, was good; taking care to make sure I couldn’t pick at any knots or play with any buckles.

“Seriously? Pink mittens?!”
“They were all out of black ones,” she sarcastically replied. She walked to her bag and pulled out another object that filled me with dread: a straitjacket.

Mentally panicking, I tried talking. “Look, 66, hear me out: this isn’t fair. You used some weird gas to incapacitate me. You didn’t get the chance to let me truly struggle against my kidnapper. So, how about you get these mittens off, put away that jacket, and wait for the gas to wear off. Then, we can struggle mano-a-mano.”

66 rolled her eyes at me. “Newsflash: kidnappers don’t play fair. They put bags over your head, they chloroform you-“
“They use nerve gas on you.”
“Exactly. So stop trying to goad me or else you’ll be suffering a jaw-aching gag for quite a while. Got it?”

I roll my eyes, annoyed that my attempt failed. “Ugh, fine.”

She sat me up, held my arms out and started to strap me up, covering up my white t-shirt that read “BAZINGA” that I wore to bed. As she crossed my arms and slid them in the chest loops, I tried to mount some form of resistance by trying to headbutt her. She responded by shoving my face onto the bed and holding my neck down with her elbow until I stopped struggling.

“Nice try,” 66 condescendingly told me as she pulled me back up and finished tightening the straps. “Now, I have to do up your legs.”

I looked down on my legs. They were covered with green pajama bottoms emblazoned with red hearts. “Do you really have to bring me in wearing these?”

66 sighed. “Fine. Where do you keep your leggings?”
“Second drawer on the left side.”

She opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of black tights. After replacing my legwear, she went to her bag again and pulled out three leather straps. One went around my thighs, one below my knees and the third one right above my ankles.

“N’aww. With the mermaid tail thing you’ve got going on right now coupled with the red hair, you could call yourself an Ariel cosplayer.”
“Ariel was never in a straitjacket, genius.”
“We don’t know that. She might’ve worn one in one of the straight-to-DVD sequels. No one watches those. Regardless, it’s time to shut up.”

I mentally slapped myself. Why didn’t I try yelling?! I doubted whoever showed up would be able to stand up to 66, but it might buy me enough time for the gas to wear off. Unfortunately for me, she must’ve been reading my mind.

“H-“ was the only syllable of my plea I got out before 66 shoved a second handkerchief in my mouth. This one was a large one, evident by how wide my cheeks were bulging out.

While I tried to push the stuffing out with my tongue, 66 strode over to her bag and pulled out several strands of white cloth. Right before I could spit the hanky out, a cloth with a giant knot in the middle was forced between my teeth, forcing the hanky back further into my mouth. After securing it with a knot, a second cloth was tied over my mouth and a third huge one was tied over my mouth and nose.

My captor then raided my closet, finding a leopard-print scarf. She tied it so that it acted as a headscarf, securing the knot under my chin, forcing my jaw around the hanky even further than before. Right around this time, feeling began to return to my body. Of course, I tried to struggle. But of course, there was no I could way I could escape.

Seeing me move, 66 gave my bare feet a little tickle, most likely to ensure I couldn’t move and was properly gagged. Sadly for me, I couldn’t move and my laughter was vastly muted.

66 smiled and picked me up. “Great. Now, let’s get you outta here.”


VOTING TIME! Does 66:

A: KO 38 before taking her away
B: Keep her conscious, but under heavy sensory deprivation

Vote and I’ll count up the votes tomorrow afternoon/evening

[Macher]

B

[Caesar73]

I vote for B!

[TightsBound]

So far this is an excellent prequel about our favorite agent! I vote B!

[TamatoaShiny123]

Y’all voted for B! I’ll start writing it tomorrow!

[TamatoaShiny123]

Chapter 3:

“But how to get you out of here without raising suspicion?” 66 asked herself out loud before turning to me, as if she was expecting an answer from my gagged mouth.

I at least tried tried to answer. “Mmph! Mmph!” (I wasn’t really trying to say anything specific; I just wanted to give her an answer)

She once again went to her bag and pulled out a large grey laundry sack. I was quickly swallowed up by the sack and felt the bag being tied up at the top. I then felt myself being lifted over her shoulder.

“Let’s go,” I heard her say.

She held onto me as she climbed out the window and down the fire escape she presumably climbed up to reach my apartment. After a bit more climbing, we finally reached solid ground. I heard her open a car door before placing me onto the floor.

She untied the sack, allowing my head to peek through. I was now in the back of a windowless black van with soundproofing materials decorating the walls and a tiny compartment on the side of the wall. In the middle was a table with several straps on it.

Once again, I was picked up and placed onto the table while still trapped in the sack. Several straps were tightened to hold me down to the table at my shoulders, stomach and ankles. I now had three layers of bondage on me now: the straitjacket, the sack, and the belts, not to mention the mittens around my hands.

I was absolutely and utterly stuck.

“Don’t worry,” 66 said. “You won’t be tied up THIS much where we’re going. We just like going all out during the transport to make sure you don’t slip away while I’m driving.”
“Mmph,” I growled. At least I was assured that this was as far as the bondage would get for the test...I hoped.

“Now,” my captor continued. “I need to make sure you don’t have the foggiest idea about where we’re going. Wanna guess how I’m gonna do that?”
“Mmph mmph?”
“That’s right! Sensory deprivation! All five of your senses-sight, sound, smell, taste and touch-will be dampened until we arrive. Now, you’re trapped in the sack and have those mittens on, so your touch is kaput. And the only thing you can taste right now is cloth. Let’s get rid of the other three senses, shall we?”

She opened up the compartment, first pulling out a small container of cream. Lowering the cloths over my mouth and nose, she rubbed a bit of the cream onto my upper lip.

“This will cut off your sense of smell,” 66 explained.

I tilted my head, leading out a confused “Mmph”.

“Yea, I know that smell is an inessential smell in this situation. But as I told you, we go all out during the transport.”

After replacing the cloths, she then dealt with my sight. She pulled out a sleep mask with a hole meant for the nose and blindfolded me with it. With the nose hole, no light shone through. Something that felt like a bandage was then wrapped around my already-covered eyes, ensuring there was no way I could peek around any edges.

“Now, I’m gonna clog up your ears,” 66 told me. “After that, I’m gonna drive you go the location. There, I’ll explain the rules of the test and stuff. Got it?”
“Mmph!”
“Glad you understand.”

A pair of ear plugs were then inserted into my ears and a pair of headphones were slapped over the plugs. I then felt vibrations, presumably from the door closing, and then sensed the van pulling away.

It was really surreal, not having any senses available to me. I couldn’t move, see, smell, and I could only barely hear.

I was fading too. I was sleeping when I was nabbed and that fact that I was receiving no light didn’t help matters. I tried to provide myself some stimulus by shouting into my gag, but the noise sounded too far away to be effective. Finally, I gave in and felt my consciousness fade away...

[Caesar73]

This was very good! Agent 38 will not have a clue where she is going

[TamatoaShiny123]

Guys, look! [mention]bobafettish1[/mention] supplied me w/some cover art for this story!

[TightsBound]

Love it! And not just because I went to high school with her
Now I can picture 38 in my head!

[TamatoaShiny123]

Love it! And not just because I went to high school with her
Now I can picture 38 in my head!

Wait, seriously?!

[TightsBound]

Love it! And not just because I went to high school with her
Now I can picture 38 in my head!

Wait, seriously?!

100% gods honest truth. She graduated top 10 in my class. Needless to share I was shocked when I started seeing her online a few years later. Now I’m a fan!

[TamatoaShiny123]

Love it! And not just because I went to high school with her
Now I can picture 38 in my head!

Wait, seriously?!

100% gods honest truth. She graduated top 10 in my class. Needless to share I was shocked when I started seeing her online a few years later. Now I’m a fan!

Top 10 in the class to straitjacket model? ...damn

[TamatoaShiny123]

Chapter 4:

After an unknown amount of time, my headphones and ear plugs were removed. The sensation of my auditory functions returning to me was enough to wake me back up

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Agent 66 cooed.

Light flooded my eyes as she unwrapped the bandages and sleep mask. 66, having removed her balaclava, was staring back at me, lightly stroking my cheek.

“Did you have a good sleep?” she asked.
“Mmph! Mmmmph!”

My captor slapped her forehead. “Oh, right. Duh.”

66 removed the headscarf, the OTM, and the OTN gag, wiping away the anti-smell cream with one of the cloths. She then removed the knotted cleave gag and fished out the large hanky. It nearly took a minute for me to regain vocal abilities.

“It was alright,” I answered, “especially since no one interrupted it by ambushing me in the middle of it.”

66 rolled her eyes. “Are you still grumpy about that? Yeesh, get over it already.”

She undid the straps that held me down to the table and pulled the sack down, unfortunately keeping me in the straitjacket. She unbuckled the straps that held my legs together and quickly slapped a pair of shackles around my ankles. The chain was long enough for me to walk, but it would hinder my kicking ability.

66 grabbed me from the van and pulled me onto the floor. Gazing at my surroundings, it appeared I was in some sort of basement parking garage. A few feet away was an elevator.

I felt a push on my back. “Move,” 66 ordered.

I decided to be defiant. “No, I shall not move.”

66 responded with a boot to my butt. Before I could even think of retaliation, I was grabbed by my hair and forcefully dragged into the elevator. The elevator only had one button, so 66 pressed that one.

One catchy elevator diddy later, I was grabbed by the hair again, shoved out of the elevator and led out a nearby door. After being led through several corridors, 66 pressed a red button on the side of the wall, opening up a set of steel doors.

“Here it is,” 66 stated with a grin. “Your new home.”

The room was roughly 15 by 15 feet. On the side of each wall were ten silver metal doors, which I presumed were holding cells. Two guards, one man and one woman (both wore blue body armor, aviator glasses, and matching visors. The man looked to be about six feet with short black hair and a pencil-thin mustache. The woman was half a foot shorter and had her raven hair in a practically perfect ponytail), were standing in front of a red button on the middle of the wall.

“See that button those two are guarding?” 66 asked. I nodded. “Well, to pass the test, you have to press that button.”
“I...guess that’s not that bad.”
“Sure, if you ignore the trained guards, restraints you’re in, the fact that you’ll be in a cell whenever you aren’t being interrogated, how-“
“Ok, ok, I get it.”

Something occurred to me. “Wait, when can I start attempting to press the button?”
“Uh...now, I guess,” 66 hesitantly answered.

That’s all I needed to hear. I suddenly whipped the shackle’s chain around 66’s ankles and pulled back, sending my mentor onto the floor. I then quickly hobbled towards the button that’d end this damn test before it barely began.

As expected, the guards charged at me. The guy was the first one who charged at me. I spun around him and kicked him right where his knee bent, causing him to kneel down. The girl guard charged at me moments later. Despite being chained, I was able to juke her, causing her to crash into her fellow guard.

I ran towards the button, now only several feet away. It looks like I’d pass this test with ease...

...only for 66 to get back up and dive towards me, grabbing my ankle.

“Let go of me!” I demanded, trying to push forward as she, my ankle in hand, tried to pull me back.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t release her grip in time. The two guards who I had taken down proceeded to tackle me to the floor, thus thwarting my escape attempt.

66 flipped me onto my stomach and gave my ass a hard swat. “Bad girl! Bad girl!” she admonished me as if I were a naughty puppy dog.
“Can’t blame a girl for tryin’,” I said with a shrug.

I was picked back up by my hair and dragged towards a cell, the fourth one on the room’s left side. I noted that the room even had my name on the door. Shockingly, I wasn’t honored.

I was heaved into the cell, listening to the door slam shut. A locking sound followed shortly after.

“Just for that little stunt,” I heard 66 say, “you’ll being spending at least until suppertime in the jacket!”
“How am I supposed to pee in this thing?”
“You should’ve thought of that before trying to break my ankle!”
“Speaking of supper, I haven’t eaten all morning...”

It was silent for a moment. “Fine. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

I smiled. If she didn’t take the jacket off, at least someone, maybe even 66, would have to feed me, which could potentially give me some sort of opening to escape.

The slot on my cell door opened and two things were thrown in: a dog bowl filled with Cheerios and a water bowl.

“Enjoy,” 66 snarked before sliding the slot closed back up.

[Beaumains]

Great story. I love how the lightheartedness of the conversations. The comical, almost sketch-like scenes butcher the seriousness of kidnap situation. I prefer it to the superlatives which are often used, it makes the scenes much more playful.
Good job!

[TamatoaShiny123]

Great story. I love how the lightheartedness of the conversations. The comical, almost sketch-like scenes butcher the seriousness of kidnap situation. I prefer it to the superlatives which are often used, it makes the scenes much more playful.
Good job!

Thanks! Means a lot to me!

[Caesar73]

Great story. I love how the lightheartedness of the conversations. The comical, almost sketch-like scenes butcher the seriousness of kidnap situation. I prefer it to the superlatives which are often used, it makes the scenes much more playful.
Good job!

My opinion also!

If Agent 38 thought, Agent 66 would feed her, giving her another opportunity to esacape? Well, that won´t happen I bet Agent 38 did not expect that!

Tamatoa: Will there be any Choices for the audience, as in the previous chapter?

[TamatoaShiny123]

Great story. I love how the lightheartedness of the conversations. The comical, almost sketch-like scenes butcher the seriousness of kidnap situation. I prefer it to the superlatives which are often used, it makes the scenes much more playful.
Good job!

My opinion also!

If Agent 38 thought, Agent 66 would feed her, giving her another opportunity to esacape? Well, that won´t happen I bet Agent 38 did not expect that!

Tamatoa: Will there be any Choices for the audience, as in the previous chapter?

Not the next chapter, but another choice is coming up soon!

[Caesar73]

Absolutely fine with me

[Emma]

This story is coming along nicely! I really like the light hearted tone in a situation that in reality, would be quite serious

[BobaFettish1]

Loving it so far! And I concur with everyone else, I think you've nailed Agent 38's levity, which is an essential part of her character.

Can't wait for the next part!