Under Cover -- Federal Detective Caitlyn Alvarez
Detective Caitlyn Alvarez stripped out of her clothes and walked into the warehouse with the others. It was a male fantasy, she thought wryly. Sixteen naked women, locked in a room, under the strict authority of a few powerful men.
She was rudely searched, fingers pushed right up into her pussy and ass. They were looking for cameras, microphones, or GPS locators, she assumed. Then the guard handed her a breath mask and gloves and she went to her station.
The cartel always employed naked women to pack their cocaine into bricks, preferably petite women. Men were naturally aggressive, and more inclined to rebel, whereas diminutive women, significantly weaker, were fully capable of doing the job, but could be easily subdued if necessary. And naked, they had no pockets or shoes to hide stolen product. And orifices were searched going out too.
The FBI and DEA needed to know who was in charge here. Twenty-four different men had been observed coming and going, in identical black Rav4s, even down to duplicate license plates. But which of these men was the top dog? Appropriate charges could not be brought until the hierarchy was understood.
Two years ago, the FBI had embarrassed themselves by arresting Julio Vigil. They had released his unimportant driver, only to learn later that the cartel executive actually liked to drive himself to and from work. Julio had been hired to ride in the back, wearing a nice suit, acting as the decoy. This time, at the packaging facility, they needed to ID the man in charge before the arrests were made.
This was a job for Special Detective Caitlyn. With her gorgeous face and figure, dusky skin, and gift for languages, she could go anywhere. And Caitlyn would do anything for the job. Anything. She had no modesty or inhibitions when duty called. If an agent was needed to go undercover in a strip club, brothel, harem, or porn set, Cait would always volunteer.
Caitlyn pulled the plastic sheet over the wooden frame and turned on the vacuum. The plastic was sucked into place, shaping itself to the form of the frame. She scooped cocaine from the bin and poured it into the hollow. When it was full, she skimmed the overfill back into the bin and folded the plastic over the top, sealing it into a brick shape.
She was paid five dollars per brick and she could make about twenty bricks an hour. It was good money, but her real job was to find out who was running the operation.
Apart from the occasional "Hurry up!" the men seldom spoke to the women. Leered at them. Fondled them. Occasionally spanked a bare bottom. But words were few.
Caitlyn had been working here three months now. So far, she only had one clear idea of who was in charge. The men. Each and every man was over and above all of the women. Other than that, all she had learned was a handful of names.
One of these, Luis, snapped his fingers and pointed at her. Caitlyn sighed with reluctance because that's what the men would expect to see. A girl called away from her station would be upset about losing wages by a stop in her production. But she wasn't allowed to say No.
In reality, Caitlyn was glad of the summons. She dropped to her knees as Luis puled out his cock. The close proximity gave her an excellent opportunity to gather info. She had watched other girls called to service the men now and then and each time regretted that she had not been chosen.
Caitlyn obediently took the dick into her mouth. She was an expert cocksucker. First place in the Rhode Island Oral Rodeo. Forty-seven blowjobs in the Erotic Carnival Charity Bazaar. Winner of the Amateur Blowjob Contest at the Vegas Porn Convention. Sucking on Luis' cock was easy. But she wanted to draw it out, make it last awhile, without getting him frustrated to the point where he'd call one of the other girls.
She moved in close, taking him all the way into her throat. Guys loved that. The sight of their cock buried all the way into a girl's pretty face always excited them. She knew a way to work the muscles in the back of her throat to make him come in less than a minute. But for now, she simply held him there, letting him enjoy the view. Within her mouth, she lazily stroked his cock with her tongue. But these were practiced skills she could do in her sleep. While she stimulated Luis, she also studied him covertly.
His belt buckle was gaudy and expensive, Caitlyn saw. But that wasn't real gold and those weren't real diamonds. No tool marks. No seams. No artist marks. It wasn't custom made, but a die-cast, mass-produced piece. Luis was making good money, but not top dollars.
Caitlyn pulled back until just the head of his cock was still in her mouth. Breathing was not possible when deep-throating, so she'd had to take a break. She tickled the crown with her tongue and smiled up at him. If he came now, that would be fine with her. Luis was a low man on this cartel totem pole.
Besides the belt buckle, his Rolex was fake and his boots were imitation alligator. There were telltale callouses on his thumbs that indicated he spent a lot of hours playing cards and his short, rough fingernails meant he chewed on them. A nervous gambler was one who owed a great deal of money. Perhaps the Feds could use that for leverage.
If he had time to play cards, he had few responsibilities other than working a shift, supervising the cocaine packaging. If the sight of all these naked women got him horny, well, that was to be expected. Caitlyn really didn't blame him for taking advantage of the fringe benefits.
She sucked and licked the head of his cock and brought her hands up to stroke his shaft and tease his balls.
"Oh, Fuck!" he said, pouring into her mouth. His salty cum exploded on her tongue, the familiar flavor of a job well done. Caitlyn was well pleased with herself.
She held him in her mouth, coaxing the last few drops from him. But she remained aware of her surroundings. When the door opened, and one of the other men arrived, she noted who it was.
