The first button came undone, revealing her pale bare skin.
Pop.
The second button unfastened.
"Ah…"
The third, the fourth.
Pop, pop-pop.
"That's some high-end lingerie. Must have been hard to afford on a new maid's salary."
In the end, the maid uniform slipped away entirely, leaving only her expensive lace slip.
"…!"
I naturally reached beneath her skirt.
Thwack.
But Sidney's hand snatched my wrist. Her grip was fierce.
"…You cannot."
"Cannot?"
I raised an eyebrow.
"Caught rummaging through your master's briefcase, and now you mean to refuse punishment?"
"That's not it. Only…"
Sidney bit her lip.
[Name: Sidney Wellesley]
[Status: Determined to preserve her virginity at least; torn between mission and chastity]
Ah, right. According to [Status Analysis], she had no experience whatsoever.
Her position as Intelligence Director, and her obsession with cleanliness. No matter how critical the mission, she could never abide spreading her legs and offering her maidenhead to an Imperial Army lieutenant colonel.
'Forcing my way through here would be…'
This was the Intelligence Director of the Allied Kingdom. The repercussions were too daunting.
In that case.
Whump.
I pressed down on her waist, bending her upper body over the armrest of the sofa. Then I flipped her maid skirt up to her waist. Her white buttocks gleamed dazzlingly under the moonlight.
"…? M-Master?"
"Why? Surely you're not going to say this place is off-limits too?"
A pillowy, jelly-soft mound. Spreading it apart revealed her shyly puckered anal rose.
"Oh my, Eli. Did you say you were a virgin? This place looks completely unused as well. Pristine."
I marveled. Sidney Wellesley was said to be a perfectionist bordering on mysophobia. True to her nature, even her back hole was immaculately maintained.
"P-Please stop… That place…!"
Sidney cried out urgently.
"It's not a place someone as noble as Master should touch…!"
She was desperate. Even if she managed to protect her virginity, losing her rear hole instead was utterly unacceptable.
For my part, I wasn't prepared either, so I feigned a retreat.
"You make a fair point. That spot requires various preparations."
"Th-Thank you…!"
"But you still must take your punishment. I can't let this slide."
I smacked her buttock flesh with my glans, a crisp spanking sound.
"When can you be ready?"
"Excuse me…?"
"If the problem is lack of preparation, then you can just prepare it."
I pressed my lips close to her ear and whispered.
"Personally."
Sidney's pupils wavered.
To escape this moment, she had to pledge a future humiliation. And with her own mouth, no less.
"…I will… prepare."
Sidney's voice was barely a whisper, trailing off.
"I can't hear you."
"For Master… ugh…! I will empty myself cleanly… and stretch myself open."
Her voice trembled.
"I'll give myself an enema… and apply oil… so that Master can enter easily… I shall prepare it."
[Name: Sidney Wellesley]
[Emotion: Humiliation, escapism]
"Good. I'll let it go for today."
"Haah… haah…"
The moment the pressure lifted, Sidney collapsed to the floor as if her legs had given out. The skirt of her lace slip was crumpled disgracefully, and red handprints remained on her white thighs.
I adjusted my trousers and looked down at her.
"Get out. Ah, and…"
I tapped the documents on the table.
"Forget this content. Understood?"
"…I shall bear it in mind."
*
Londinium, capital of the United Kingdom of Victoria.
The Queen's glass greenhouse.
The bluish light of dawn streamed through the glass ceiling. Inside, the humidity and earthy scent of the night's plant growth filled the air.
Snip, snip.
Queen Charlotte, wearing only a thick gown over her nightclothes, was tending to her garden since early morning.
Every pass of her pruning shears sent overgrown branches and wilted buds falling to the ground.
"…Your Majesty."
A cautious voice came from the greenhouse entrance.
It was Lieutenant Colonel Sterling of the Intelligence Service. Unlike his usual composed demeanor, his face was flushed as he clutched a briefcase.
"Is it news from Lord Wellesley?"
"Yes. A Level 1 encrypted dispatch just arrived, after crossing the Imperial border."
Charlotte's hands finally stilled.
It hadn't even been 24 hours since Sidney Wellesley personally dove into enemy territory. To receive word already meant one of two things.
The operation had failed, and she was requesting extraction.
Or, she had achieved results beyond all expectations.
"Read it."
"At once."
Sterling unfolded the decrypted message with trembling hands.
"Sender: Code Name Eli. Recipient: Her Majesty Queen Charlotte."
He began to read aloud.
"I report. This officer succeeded in approaching target 'Max Yeager,' and has successfully infiltrated and established control in his innermost circle."
"…Established control?"
Charlotte turned her head.
"Continue."
"The target yielded to this officer's guided interrogation and shared Level 1 classified strategy. As a result, he has signaled willingness to revise the Empire's grand strategy. Accordingly, this officer has induced the target to produce a new agreement maximizing the United Kingdom's national interest."
Excitement crept into Sterling's voice.
"This is… a miracle, Your Majesty! The Director has done it! She's achieved something far greater than assassinating the target—she has effectively turned him!"
Sterling produced another document and extended it to the Queen.
[Informal Intelligence Sharing and Mutual Surveillance Framework - Final Revision]
Her eyes rapidly scanned the text.
[Article 1. The Empire shall informally grant the United Kingdom Intelligence Service 'maritime search and inspection rights' for the purpose of eradicating communist elements within the Republic.]
[Article 2. The United Kingdom Intelligence Service shall provide the Empire with a list of dangerous individuals (communists) within the Republic, and in return receive guaranteed priority negotiation rights for 40% of concessions in postwar Republic reconstruction.]
[Article 3. Both nations' intelligence agencies shall establish a hotline to…]
"…."
It exceeded imagination.
This was a war the Empire's subjects had bled to win against the Republic. And yet the Empire was curbing its monopolistic greed and conceding United Kingdom interests so readily?
Diplomats could grovel for years and barely secure such concessions; Sidney had extracted them in mere days.
"Good heavens…"
Charlotte sighed quietly.
"How did she do it? Did the target, Max Yeager… actually agree to these humiliating terms?"
Sterling answered with a shrug.
"According to the Director's report, she exploited the target's weakness and broke him psychologically. The target is currently entirely dependent on the Director and is said to be unable to make any judgment without her advice."
Psychological submission. Total dependence.
In Charlotte's mind, an image of Sidney emerged.
The so-called 'Ice Queen' Sidney Wellesley, who crushed opponents with cold reason and overwhelming charisma. She would have collared that rigid Max Yeager, cracked a whip, and forced him to draft this agreement.
"As expected… Lord Wellesley."
A faint smile spread across Charlotte's lips.
"I see why Arthur failed. That child was too soft. To face a monster, one must become an even more ruthless monster."
"Indeed, Your Majesty! The Director has tamed the Empire's hero into a loyal hound for the United Kingdom!"
Sterling's voice swelled with emotion.
But they did not know.
What Sidney herself was doing at this very moment, aboard a moving train, in order to negotiate with that tamed hound.
"Approved."
Charlotte said without hesitation.
"Tell her to proceed with this agreement. And…"
She gazed at a purple lavender bloom in one corner of the greenhouse.
"Order her to remain in place and keep the target under surveillance. To keep a tight grip on Max Yeager so he can't harbor second thoughts."
"Understood, Your Majesty! I shall transmit it immediately!"
Sterling saluted with a thrilled expression and exited the greenhouse.
Silence returned.
Charlotte picked up her shears again.
Snip.
Another wilted branch fell to the ground.
"You've done well, Sidney."
She breathed in the floral scent with a satisfied expression.
"I knew you would manage."
And at the same time,
Inside the cramped train lavatory where Max's party rode,
Sidney Wellesley was hunched over the sink, gasping for breath.
"Haah… haah…"
The vibration of the moving train traveled up through the soles of her feet. But her legs trembling was not solely due to the rocking of the carriage.
"You told me… to prepare."
Sidney glared at her reflection in the mirror.
She had reported to Queen Charlotte that she 'succeeded in controlling the target.' For the national interest of the United Kingdom, she had placed the Empire's hero in the palm of her hand.
But the reality?
"Ugh…!"
It was humiliating.
'This is… a mission. Yes, just part of the mission.'
Sidney bit her lip, drilling the thought into her own mind.
Max Yeager was a deeply suspicious man. If she did not carry out the punishment he'd handed down, he would instantly suspect her and cast her out. If that happened, the report that would have delighted Queen Charlotte would become worthless scrap paper.
'I must endure. To put that bastard at ease….'
Squelch!
Sidney's legs buckled.