Jezebel smiled, arching her back slightly and jutting one hip forward seductively. Her sleek, tautly muscled body gleamed in the dim light that filtered through the curtains. Her only hope was to perhaps distract Lagotti with her feminine whiles long enough to get him into a vulnerable position, then incapacitate him so she could escape ... just incapacitate him, though, as vile as he was, he still had too much information that they did not know, she couldn't kill him ... yet.

She bit her lip in frustration, and with great effort turned it into a seductive, animal sneer: she hated him. She wanted to kill him, wanted it more than anything. Lagotti was a megalomanaical maniac, and she and her C.U.N.T. comrades had been tracking him and his nefarious crew for years. The longer they had tracked him, the more of her friends she had lost: Vixsin Corsetti had been the first. Doc Lagotti's men had knocked her out, and then killed her in a hideous liposuction procedure. A box containing nothing but skin, bones and Vixsin's lovely platinum hair had been left on the doorstep of C.U.N.T. headquarters one morning. Jezebel had had nightmares for weeks. Then there was Scarlett LeFever, the pint-sized mistress of the stilleto-heel nun-chucks. Jezebel had seen her fall in person. There had been a glorious battle outside an animal-research facility, where the W.A.N.K.S., posing as P.E.T.A. protestors, had been trying to steal some top-secret medical-testing-type-stuff. Scarlett had whipped off her red-patent-leather stilletto sandals, hurriedly buckled them together and began whirling them around in a shiny red blurr of destruction. A fluke had caused one of the buckles to break, and one of the stilettos, whose trajectory had been intended to go straight toward Lagotti's head, had been altered, and the stilletto wound up piercing Scarlett's left eye. Jezebel screamed in horror as she saw her lovely friend fall: one agonizingly beautiful lavender eye wide with surprise, the other eclipsed by a faulty-buckled stilletto sandal. The world held its breath as the beautiful creature fell gracefully to the earth, silent as a flower felled by a careless hand.

Jezebel shook her head, if she was going to make it out of here alive, she couldn't let herself be distracted by memories of her friends. She answered him: "Naw, darlin' ... I was just calling the office to tell them I'd be a little late for work this morning. Something came up ..." Jezebel's long legs spanned the short distance between she and Lagotti in two sinewy steps. "At least, I hope something comes up ..." she purred, reaching her hand down to his cock and stronking it softly, while her other hand caressed his cheek, deftly flicking away the morsel of egg before she drew his face to hers and kissed him deeply.

He "mmrmphed" in surprise, but his body quickly responded to her ministrations. He knew she was trying to distract him with sex, but he didn't care: he couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex with a woman who wasn't high, drunk or unconscious ... it'd be nice to see what it was like to fuck someone who was responsive and actually knew what she was doing ... and Jezebel *definitely* knew what she was doing.

She pulled back from the kiss, the corner of her lip tilted in a sly smirk, then she began to move down his body, trailing kisses down his chest, getting down on her knees so she was face to face with his now raging hard-on. She was surprised for a moment: for a skanky, greasy little bastard he sure had a huge cock. "Maybe this won't be so terrible after all," she thought to herself as she opened her large, soft lips and closed them around the head of his penis .....