Kurt Knout

“Gentlemen, we’ve got a problem”. Chet said. He frowned across the big conference table. The room was cool and clammy, thanks to the noisy air conditioning; Outside the Arabian American embassy under the glaring sun of Riyadh, it was at least forty degrees hotter. Chet––Chester Gathright, assistant ambassador to Arabia (but, as every one knew, the head of the CIA station) frowned again at the four men, his associates, around the table. He is fiftyish, well built, balding, with mild features; forgettable in a crowd; one might say an attribute in his profession. His frown is tinged with rueful deprecation, and just a little humor. ...

Dianne–Wonder Woman––was nervous as she fidgeted in front of the full length mirror in the “green room”; she was a few minutes away from her nationwide TV interview with Chandra Chan, the famously bitchy but wildly popular TV hostess. She smoothed her new costume against her body; was it too sheer? Probably; too late to change now. The new red white and blue sheath was clinging, surely; maybe too clinging. The slim collar around her neck broadened to a tight halter that confined and separated her full breasts, then swooped down to a low cut band of fabric , well below her navel, that barely sheathed her pubic bulge, then cradling and outllining her vulvar crease, connected with the high hipped, almost thongllke strand of cloth barely holding her buttocks. She buckled on the heavy Amazon belt, source for much of her power; among other things, it kept the flimsy costume from sliding off her breasts.. “not quite naked” she thought, as she pirouetted and posed before the mirror; but, maybe this costume change is a -good idea. At least her PR team. Kevin and Andrea, had told her so. And besides, she looked so––sexy. She turned, posed once more, before she buckled on the magic cuffs. ...