Summary: Lana and Archer practice interrogation drills after hours...until she gets a bit carried away in her role. Semi-smut, you've been warned, blah blah. One shot!
Torture Town
"Jesus, Lana, the blindfold, I get, but what's the deal with these ankle cuffs?"
"Because I don't want one of your stupid feet in my face halfway through, idiot."
Archer grumbled, getting annoyed with being in such a vulnerable position, shackled and blindfolded. They were in the ISIS break room/torture chamber, running interrogation drills after hours, preparing for their yearly employee evaluation testing the next day. Lana, playing the role of "interrogator", smirked at Archer's obvious impatience, and took her time preparing the other various torture devices spread out on the table next to Archer. She checked her appearance in the two-way mirror; she smiled to herself at the tight-fitting KGB uniform dress that she wore to help her get into character.
"You know, Lana, if it wasn't for the fact I'm chained up against this cold ass wall and blindfolded like some sort of Twilight Zone version of Pin the Tail on the Donkey, I'd be a bit more vocal about how- HURRY THE SHIT UP AND FAIL SO WE CAN GO HOME!"
Lana finished buttoning up her KGB uniform, and chuckled at her "captive". She flipped off the lights in the room, and the dim light of the security lights above made Archer's form glow against the darkness.
"Heh, yeah, I think I'm gonna like this."
Archer felt a pang of genuine fear at her change in tone. He strained to listen to where Lana's slow footsteps were in proximity to him, but his elevating pulse only made his tinnitus ring louder in his ears.
Sensing the adrenaline building in him, Lana leaned in close to Archer's cheek, allowing her breath to ghost the shell of his ear, making him shudder involuntarily. She licked her lips, and whispered in an eerily accurate Russian accent, "I think you're gonna like this too, you capitalist pig."
Lana then ripped off Archer's shirt, causing the buttons to spray in different directions until they hit the concrete floor, ringing loud against the stone walls of the room like metal raindrops. Archer started breathing heavily, both out of fear and, now, unexpectedly, arousal. He tried suppressing both by shifting attention to something else, hoping to distract Lana's budding thespian talents.
"D-dammit, Lana, that was a $400 bespoke linen dress shirt! Those buttons are worth, like, $20 each, easily!"
Lana picked up the large K-BAR knife that was on the table next to her, and slipped the tip of the blade down the front of Archer's pants, right under his left hip bone.
"Really? Is money and material possessions all you greedy Americans care about?"
She pulled the razor-sharp knife straight down, effortlessly slicing the trousers down to the shackles around his ankles. Archer tensed; the sensation of the dull side of the knife gliding down his thigh felt a bit too good, and now, clad only in his black silk briefs, it would be impossible to hide his now-obvious erection from his interrogator.
Lana kneeled down to push aside the strips of torn cloth from his bare feet, and, on the way down, noticed that he was now hard. She glanced upwards at Archer's sweaty, blindfolded face, and felt a surge of primal rage and lust. Channeling her role, Lana gave a wicked smile, and slowly ran her hands up the front of his quads, and rested her palm directly over his swollen member. She started lightly stroking the fabric, and felt his dick pulsate in response.
He groaned quietly, trying not to give in to Lana's fondling. He didn't expect Lana to resort to sexual torture, and the resulting loss of control over his body's reactions terrified him even further.
"C'mon, La-Lana, this has to be a v-violation of some sort of...treaty...oh shit..."
Lana pulled down the front of his underwear, freeing his erection, and held onto his cock firmly. She gave him a tentative stroke, and earned a low moan from his lips. She leaned in close to Archer's face, enjoying seeing the source of so much misery and pain throughout her life completely under her control.
"Are you going to give me the plans, or am I going to have to resort to more...drastic measures?"
She used her free hand to reach for another tool from the table, as her other hand continued massaging Archer's shaft. He laughed a little between breaths, and subconsciously rocked his hips in time with her strokes.
"What plans, what the hell are you talking about? Wha- mmm, fuck- what kind of drastic measures?"
Lana quickly removed her hand, and flipped Archer around roughly, exposing his underwear-clad ass. She brought up a small riding crop held in her other hand high above her head, and whacked Archer's buttocks. He screamed in pain and shock, the all-too-familiar sensation destroying the budding shred of confidence he felt.
"FUCK! Woah-ho, okay, Lana! Playtime's over! Get the keys to the shackles, I'm friggin serious! I- OOWWW!"
Lana pressed her palm hard against the small of Archer's back, pinning his bare abdomen against the rough stone wall, and cracked the riding crop against him again. She slipped the knife through the side of his underwear, causing the silk fabric to fall off, and revealed two large, bright red welts developing on Archer's muscled ass.
"I am not 'Lana', agent Archer. I am Colonel Kaneovitz, and you will tell me where the plans are!"
Archer blinked away the tears of pain developing under his blindfold, bit his lower lip and swallowed, his mind swimming in a mixture of terror, confusion, and sheer sexual ecstasy; he'd never been more turned on in his entire life, but he knew that he couldn't let Lana "win"...this called for his own drastic measures.
"I told you, Colonel, I have no idea what you're talking about! I'm just a Canadian tourist, here in Moscow for the hockey convention, eh?"
Lana dug her strong fingers deep into Archer's hip bone in anger and lowered the riding crop; now he was improvising and joking around? Her fingernails left tiny, bloody marks on his skin, and she flipped him back around, facing her once more.
Archer smirked as he felt Lana move away from him; despite being sexually assaulted and tortured by the mother of his child, he felt pretty confident once more that-
BZZT.
"Um, Lan- uh, I mean Colonel Kaneovitz, what was that noise?
BZZZT.
"Woah, okay, yeah, REALLY don't like whatever that is. Shit, didn't we agree on a safe word?"
BZZZ-
"AHHHHH!"
Lana removed the battery cable from Archer's testicles, and watched as he tried in vain to bring his knees together in an attempt to protect himself, straining against the chains and ankle restraints.
"WHAT THE SHIT, LANA?! I can't believe that you'd-mmm..."
His protests were cut off by Lana suddenly kissing him deeply, causing him to momentarily forget about having his balls electrocuted. Then she pulled away quickly, rubbed the two clamps together causing a shower of sparks to spray onto Archer's bare torso, and watched as he grimaced and struggled to pull back.
"Ow! Seriously, Lana, exercise over! I'm getting pissed! You're acting all crazy!"
Lana's dark green eyes narrowed at Archer, her sadistic rage boiling. She put down the battery cables on the table and picked up the most sinister tool available; she moved within a millimeter of Archer's sweat-drenched face. Her voice lowered to a husky, ominous whisper, her hot breath against his lips making him shiver simultaneously in fear and desire.
"You know nothing about crazy, Agent Archer. To educate you on this topic, I will allow you to witness what true crazy is."
With those words, she removed the blindfold from Archer's eyes. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on what was in front of him. His heart sank as he broke into a cold sweat. He started to scream, but Lana strapped the ball gag onto his mouth before any sound could escape, and she flipped him back around to expose his bare backside.
"MMMMNFF! MMMF!"
Lana chuckled low as she took a few practice swings in the air with The Redeemer. The heavy old cricket bat had been the only thing in Archer and Lana's long sexual history that he absolutely refused to at least try, and she knew that his childhood beatings from Malory with ping pong paddles and wooden spoons cemented his phobia.
She would get the plans from her captive, by any means necessary.
Lana's shadow was cast upon the wall in front of his face, causing Archer to scream in terror as he saw her bring up The Redeemer high above her squared shoulders. For once in his life, he admitted defeat and turned to face Lana over his shoulder.
"MMILEF FOK! PLEAF!"
Lana lowered the cricket bat and cocked her eyebrow at these muffled words.
"Sorry, Agent Archer, what was that?"
He trembled and lowered his head, and repeated himself quietly.
"Milef fok, Fernel"
She smirked, and unbuckled the ball gag from Archer's mouth.
"Oh, good boy...where are the plans?"
Defeated, he nodded towards the buttons on the floor.
"Micro printed on the buttons of my shirt, Colonel. Please, let me down."
Lana furrowed her brow, suspicious. She bent down in front of Archer, and gathered the buttons on the floor.
Archer stayed silent as Lana unlocked his shackles and started tidying up. Still nude, he rummaged through the cabinets in the break room til he found a towel big enough to wrap around his waist and a bottle of whiskey. He took a long drink as he watched Lana finish storing away the torture implements, and as she sat at the table to fill out the form documenting how the drill went.
Lana finally looked up at Archer, and rolled her eyes at his traumatized expression.
"Oh, Jesus, Archer. C'mon, it's the one time I've ever gotten you to crack during a drill. Get over it."
Archer looked up at her from his whiskey, and sighed heavily.
"It's not that, Lana. It's this..."
He flipped a switch near the sink, revealing the two-way mirror to Malory's office directly in front of where he was shackled. Pam, Krieger, Cheryl, and Cyril were sitting on the other side in Malory's office. Krieger was stripped down to his white y-fronts and eating a huge sandwich, while Pam gave a thumbs up, holding a video camera. Cheryl kept trying to fondle Cyril, who was so in shock and disgust he appeared comatose aside from smacking away Cheryl's wandering hands.
Lana just stared at the two-way mirror with her jaw wide open, and back to Archer.
He shrugged, finished off the whiskey, and walked towards the break room door.
"What, Lana? They decided to take bets this year on which one of us would crack. I usually kick your ass at interrogations, but I never resorted to that weird shit. Heh, oh well, guess the entire internet is gonna know about your creepy sadism fetish now."
Archer left the break room, leaving Lana alone. She dropped her pen, and buried her face in her hands, completely humiliated. She peeked up and saw Pam high-five Archer as he entered the office, both of them laughing loudly and making gestures imitating Lana's cricket bat stance.
Curious, she looked at the buttons from Archer's shirt with a magnifying glass from her supply bag; they all said, "Zona Peligrosa Lana".
Lana ripped up the report and stuck her face back into her hands.
Colonel Kaneovitz had failed her mission.
THE END