"Y-yes! Right there! Get... get IN there, you little bastard! Deeper! I SAID... DEE- PER! Ah!"

My own voice echoes in my ears, the emphasis on the word "deeper" almost feeling as though an earthquake was sent through the ground. My entire body is tense, panting and curled up around itself. My vision slowly clears, and the rest of my senses return to me slowly. There's a strong smell of... what is that? I can't even tell, but it's potent. My mouth and lips taste like alcohol. There's a quiet buzzing in the background, but the room is otherwise silent. 

I sit up. I'm on a bed in a dimly lit, windowless one-room apartment, opposite a closed door. There's a nightstand next to the bed, littered with cups, vodka bottles, and what looks to be bread crumbs. The room’s clean except for more plastic cups on the floor, and a dent in the wall by what looks to be the bathroom. I'm not wearing anything, but I see some clothes strewn on the foot of the bed. 

I reach up to grab my breasts; they feel heavy on my frame, and slightly sore, maybe overstimulated. My hand falls to pat my belly as it growls. It continues to gurgle and move as I run my hand over it, and responds with a wet slap when I hit it. I don't know why, but I get a weird feeling from the way it's rumbling. Almost like there's a little goblin inside, making a ruckus.

I roll over to the bedside and swing my feet to the ground, my legs aching in protest as I do. Evidently, I've been through quite a workout with them. There’s a serving platter overturned on the floor, next to a pair of pants and a crumpled towel. Feeling slightly better (though still a little sick to my stomach), I sit up straight and look across the room.

Yeah. I have no clue where I am.

My mind searches back, looking for even the most basic facts. My name is Lisa Bre... no, I left that name behind a while ago. My name is Aurora. I was born in Houston, Texas. I'm Latina, but I can pass for anything from Asian to African to European with enough makeup. I started my work as an agent in the service five years ago, and I'm one of their best. My specialty has been serving as an undercover prostitute so that I can catch important figures with their pants down. Befitting of this role…

I look down at my body, confirming with my eyes what my mind is telling me. Double G cup breasts, each nearly the size of my face, and completely natural. Hourglass hips one and a half times the width of my stomach. A butt that jutted out in large sheets of flesh, massive and jiggly, and tree trunk thighs to boot. I am five foot eleven inches of clear-skinned, bouncy, pure sexual energy. And if my memory is correct, I was also trained in seduction and sex techniques. No wonder I have this job.

So, why here? I got a command, yes. Infiltrate the organization of this drug lord and covertly take him out. I remember rendezvousing with my OPs partner, setting my appointment, finding the place, making the arrangements, and finally...

***

I entered the room through the short entrance hall, looking around and nodding with approval. A one-room studio apartment. One door, no windows, low lighting, clean walls and floors, empty kitchen, bathroom in the back. There was a sweet smell to the place that I couldn't quite place. This was clearly a room designed for this purpose. I swung my hips wide as I walked to the bed (in case I was being filmed) and sat down, waiting for my host. I had removed all my tracking devices and recorders before I came for this job; they searched me before I got here, and I would be doing most of my work naked, anyway.

It didn't take long for him to arrive. Quietly and wordlessly, he came through the door alone, shutting and locking it behind him in one smooth motion. He's pretty short— maybe five foot four, making him a good bit shorter than me— with a neutral face and deep-set eyes. Not ugly by any means, probably in his thirties, with a sheet of well-styled hair covering his head and a groomed beard on his face. I smiled. He matched the pictures perfectly; this is without a doubt the kingpin I'm looking for. He turned then and walked towards me, eyeing me up like the fine piece of meat I am. A smile was brewing on his lips.

"Are you ready for this, little girl?" He barks out, and I instantly get a feeling for his tastes.

"Only if you're gentile," I responded, hugging myself in my arms and laying back meekly, making sure to give my breasts an ample jiggle for him. Even if I am nearly a head taller than him, I can still play the role of the submissive little girl if he wants.

Pulling off his shirt, he crossed straight to the table and poured two cups of vodka; he knew how to get these things going, apparently. I took the cup he extended to me and poured it into my mouth, hiding it inside my lips; I'm not dumb enough to drink anything given to me, not least because it's alcohol; there's no telling what could be mixed in there. He made short work of his portion and threw the cup aside, before plunging his hands into my breasts for a grope. I rolled and moaned, playing my practiced role and pretending to be aroused by this poor attempt at foreplay. Guys like a girl who they think they can please.

The standard moves of the encounter played out without a hitch. He peeled off my shirt and freed my mammoth breasts from their tight bra; the effort it took him to unclip the front hook almost made me laugh, but I stifled it in another moan. They spilled out into his waiting hands, and his fingers sunk greedily into them, massaging the hardening nipple between his index and middle finger. He then took one tit in his mouth and started to suck on it. That was actually pretty good; my breast stretched upwards as he sucked it with his lips, before letting it fall back to my chest. He repeated this several times, moving faster and faster while I ran my hands across his back. I guess I was actually feeling pretty horney today, because when he started to pull away I reflexively pulled his head down into me to keep him on my nipple, letting the flesh of my head-sized tit consume his face. It took me a second to remember to let go, but in that second I realized that I could overpower him if I wanted to. He wasn't angry when he got up; all he did was give me a weird smile, and slide off the bed. Whoops.

I spat out the vodka I was keeping in my mouth onto the corner of the sheet while he was busy pouring a second glass for the both of us. Our pants came off as we downed our vodka, and I had to take another risk when I saw him coming in for a kiss, rolling over to lay on top of him and covering his face with my breasts (which his head nestled neatly between) so that I could covertly spit out the vodka again. Our bodies rested such that his penis was right below my vagina, and I could feel it hardening between my legs as I rolled on top of him. I rubbed my thighs together to massage it, using the thick trunks to consume his dick, underwear and all, in my flesh. 

A quick clench and a lean pulled his underwear off using just my thighs, and when I sat up I used his dick to hook my pink panties, pulling them off my butt. I then sat down again on his dick, taking it between my ass cheeks and flexing them back and forth across it. His dick, while fully erect, was still no match for the crack of my massive ass, and while my cheeks were closed you couldn't even see it in there. I could feel him nearing the point of cumming from the throbs of his dick, so I pulled away just before that happened, sitting lightly on his chest facing him.

"Awfully tricksy of you, little girl, doing me like that," he said, panting below me. "But clever. I'm not going to let you finish me that easily."

With that, he pushed himself up, and I, overwhelmed by his show of strength (not!), fell onto my back. His hands sunk into my breasts as he came in for a kiss, fondling me as he plunged his lips into mine.

I could snap his neck so easily right now if I wanted to, I thought as I ran my hands over his back. All it would take is a split second. But I need to wait for the signal from my partner to know I'm clear to kill him. Otherwise, I might end up in a shootout here, and that's the last thing I want.

Back in reality, he was squeezing my breasts tight enough to cause me a little bit of pain, even though his hands couldn't even reach all the way around each tit. Maybe it was overstimulation from the pain, or maybe it was because he was kinda small, but something about this situation was turning me on a lot more than usual for my work. Sometimes I would force myself to cum for the sake of the man I was serving, but this time I felt like I actually could cum. Now he was slapping his dick again and again on my stomach, which wasn't really a turn on, but just watching his little hands sink into my fat tits was making my insides tingle. Despite this job, I was still sexually active on my own.

That was when I heard a knock on the door. He climbed off of me, with no surprise on his face as he crossed the room naked. What is this? I thought as I pulled the sheets up to cover myself, watching him. Did he hire a second prostitute for tonight? Great, another person to kill. Why didn't my partner warn me? Wasn't this his job to deal with?

But when he opened the door, all that was behind it was a tray of two drinks and sandwiches on the floor of the entrance hall. Just a food delivery, then? Now I have to pretend to eat the sandwiches, too. It's a lot harder to fake eating food. What a pain this is turning out to be.

He locked the door again behind him and carried the tray back to me on the bed. Offering me one of the new glasses, he took the other for himself.

"Drink," he said. "It'll be a long night."

The liquid tasted like fruit punch, but I didn't taste any drugs that I recognized. He quickly swallowed down his share while I again kept mine in my mouth. Flipping me over, he devoted his attention to my ass, sinking his hands into it and kneading it slowly. I rise to my knees with him, and before I know it his dick has joined, rubbing up and down my pussy lips as the tip slides between my ass cheeks. He kept it nice and slow, and before long I started toying with my own nipples, which were hardening with my arousal. I really am unprofessionally horney today! I'm not supposed to actually get turned in by this stuff.

"Moan for me," he demanded. "Tell me you love it."

"Yes, I love it," I gasped out (not really lying), and when I opened my eyes, he was holding the glass in front of me. It was only after I took a second sip that I realized I swallowed the first.

 Shit.

I tried to hide my panic as we continued to play. Chances were that it was fine, but you never knew with guys like these; they would poison a prostitute just to keep her quiet. Still with my mind hazed by my arousal, I continued on, letting his dick slide into me. Before long he's sitting back and letting me do all the work riding him. That's fine - I'm trained in this and I'm in great shape - but it didn't quite give me the stimulus I was wanting. He cums first, of course, and only half a minute after I could feel his dick growing loose. 

"I'm done now," he said.

His words glazed over my ears and I continued to pound down on him. My motions became more frantic as I neared my own climax. My body felt so hot.

"I said I'm done!" He repeated, punching my hip. I barely noticed, continuing to pump his softening dick inside me.

As I reached climax I tightened up, clasping his legs between my thighs with almost all of my strength as my pussy squeezed his dick empty. He let out a little gasp of pain, but I kept myself tense until the climax was over. Then I realized what I just did.

"Get off of me already!" He shouts, pushing me over; his flaccid dick slides from me, causing one last burst of pleasure. "You really are weak to that stuff, you know that? I've never seen another woman get taken up by it as much as you."

He sat up and pulled his shirt on, walking to the little kitchenette. My mind was still in a little too much of a haze to think straight or understand the implications of what he just said.

*

I seem to be acting strangely in my memories. Why would I do these things? This completely contradicts the self-perception I thought I had. I’ve never lost control like that on the job before, so why now? I don’t understand it.

Ok, so then what happened?