Beatris is a spy and for the success of her current mission she has to forget about her modesty.
*** Intro ***
In the world of espionage, where secrecy and precision are paramount, Beatris had proven herself time and time again. A quiet force in the shadows, she was not known for boasting or for flaunting her talents. In fact, most of her colleagues would describe her as reserved—someone who preferred to keep to herself and maintain a low profile. But her abilities were undeniable, and that was what had earned her respect within the highest echelons of the espionage world.
Beatris was a product of a grueling, top-tier training program—one of the most rigorous in the world. From a young age, she had been groomed to excel in every aspect of combat and intelligence gathering. Every skill that was required of an agent, she mastered. Whether it was hand-to-hand combat, weaponry, hacking, or stealth tactics, Beatris was a true professional.
But it was her physicality that set her apart from the others.
Years of relentless training had shaped her body into an athletic marvel—lean yet muscular, agile and strong. She had the kind of physical conditioning that most would envy, each muscle honed for both strength and grace. Her body moved like water, swift and efficient, built for endurance. In addition to natural beauty and all the right volumes in right places. Her butt, legs and thights were a chiseled sculpture of beauty and strength, a testament to countless hours spent running, climbing, and jumping, while her arms were toned, each movement smooth and controlled. Her breasts were big enough to be considered big but just the right size to not interfere with her agility. Still, sometimes she wished they were smaller. Her training didn’t just build strength—it crafted her into a machine, capable of surviving in the most extreme environments.
However, despite the perfection of her training and her elite status, there was a side to Beatris that few knew about—her inner conflict. While she exuded confidence in the field, when it came to social situations, she often felt unsure of herself. Her colleagues might have noticed that she never sought attention, rarely engaged in casual banter, and always kept a distance. She never saw herself as anything extraordinary, often feeling that her worth was defined by her ability to perform, rather than who she was on the inside. Her shyness and reserved nature were like a shield, protecting her from a world she often felt disconnected from.
But in this world of shadows, there was little room for personal doubts. Beatris’s ability to perform when the mission was at hand was unrivaled. It was a paradox: in the heat of action, she was cool-headed, focused, and in command of every situation. But outside the mission, the weight of her own insecurities lingered.
*** The Briefing ***
Beatris stood silently in the briefing room, her mind already preoccupied with the details of the mission. The others were gathered around, listening intently to their commanding officer, but Beatris was focused on the task ahead, mentally running through the logistics and strategies that would make their infiltration successful. Her hands, though steady, rested in her lap, hidden within the folds of her uniform. She felt a tightness in her chest, a familiar pressure of anticipation before the storm of action would begin.
The mission they were about to embark on was critical, one that could shift the balance of power in the global arena. A rival weapons manufacturer had set up a secure base in a remote location, and Beatris’s team was tasked with infiltrating the facility, gathering intelligence, and sabotaging critical systems. It was a delicate operation, requiring both stealth and precision. Any misstep could result in failure, and failure was not an option.
She had been ***********ed for this mission because of her unparalleled skills, her ability to move through enemy lines unnoticed, and her physical conditioning. The mission would require more than just typical spy tactics—it would push her to the limit, demanding physical endurance and stealth. And she was ready. Despite her personal struggles, Beatris knew that in moments like these, she was capable of anything. Her mind was razor-sharp, and her body was prepared to endure whatever came her way.
The briefing ended with a few final words about timing and escape routes, and then everyone dispersed to prepare. As the team filtered out of the room, Beatris remained behind for a moment, gathering her thoughts. She looked at the mission outline again, her fingers tracing the map as she memorized the details.
This was her world.
Even as her heart raced and the weight of the mission settled in her chest, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of calm. When it came down to it, she was the best at what she did.
And when the mission began, she would show them all just how capable she truly was.
*** The River ***
Beatris stood at the river’s edge, her sharp mind analyzing the situation even as a cold knot formed in her stomach. This mission was too important to risk failure. Every detail had been planned—entry points, patrol schedules, the timing of their infiltration. But nothing would matter if they were caught before reaching the facility.
Beatris's team consisted of three highly skilled agents, each with their own unique expertise.
The first agent, Daniel, was the team’s strategist and tech specialist. Tall and lean, he had a sharp, analytical mind and could hack into any system with ease, making him invaluable for gathering intelligence and disabling security.
The second agent, Alex, was the muscle of the group. A former special forces operative, his build was imposing, with broad shoulders and a strength that made him the go-to guy for handling any physical threats or obstacles. His calm demeanor in the face of danger balanced the team’s dynamic.
Despite their contrasting skills, the three agents worked seamlessly together, each trusting the other’s strengths.
Beatris, of course, was the most agile, flexible and stealthiest among them—able to move undetected and handle delicate, high-risk tasks that required both precision and agility. Though their personalities and backgrounds varied, they all shared a deep respect for one another’s abilities, knowing that only by working as a unified team could they succeed in their dangerous and high-stakes missions.
Their disguises — expensive polished corporate suits tailored to match the company’s personnel — were their first and most critical layer of deception.
If their clothes were even slightly damp, that would rise unwanted suspicion. A single drop out of place. A minor inconsistency in appearance. That was all it would take for the security system to flag them. And if they were flagged, the entire operation would collapse before it even began.
That was why Daniel had made the call. Everything must stay dry.
Beatris understood the logic. She respected it. Efficiency over comfort. Precision over hesitation.
Beatris’s suit was a refined shade of charcoal gray, a color that exuded professionalism and authority without drawing too much attention. The jacket, sharply tailored to fit her frame, featured a subtle herringbone pattern that gave it texture without being overtly noticeable. The suit pants were equally well-fitted, tapering down in a way that elongated her legs while maintaining an air of understated sophistication. The overall look was polished yet practical, designed to blend seamlessly into any high-stakes corporate environment, allowing her to move unnoticed while maintaining an air of quiet confidence.
And yet, as she unfastened her suit jacket, she felt the first stirrings of something unfamiliar. Not fear—she had discarded fear years ago. Not doubt—because she never doubted a mission once it was in motion.
No, this was something far more dangerous. Something personal.
She had never been this exposed — not in a mission, not in front of a team. She had always worn layers, whether in the form of expensive silk or carefully cultivated deception. Stripping down meant more than just removing clothing. It meant stepping out of the persona she had crafted so perfectly.
But there was no time to hesitate.
She exhaled sharply, pushing the feeling aside. Control the mind, and the body will follow.
Her movements remained smooth, disciplined. The suit jacket slid from her shoulders, revealing an exquisite expensive silk blouse. She folded the fabric neatly, methodically, placing it inside the waterproof bag.
Next, she reached for the silk blouse, unbuttoning it with careful precision. No wasted movements. No hesitation. The cool night air brushed against her chiseled abs and skin, sending goosebumps as she removed the blouse, revealing the powerful lines of her athletic frame and her black bra that was struggling with holding her heavy brests.
Her team remained professional, focused on their own preparations, but Beatris was trained to read even the smallest details. She noticed the subtle flickers of awareness—quick glances, the briefest hesitation in their movements.
In all their previous missions together, there had never been a situation that demanded Beatris to undress, and her body had remained a mystery to her teammates. Her professionalism had always kept her personal life under wraps, with the focus strictly on the mission at hand.
They had always known she was fast, skilled, and efficient. But now, without layers of fabric concealing her, they saw just how impeccably trained she was.
Next was her suit pants.
Beatris takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the task ahead. With trembling fingers, she reaches for the button of her gray business suit pants. She fumbles slightly, her nerves getting the better of her, but she manages to undo it. The sound of the button popping open echoes in the quiet night air.
Next, she grasps the zipper, pulling it down slowly. The teeth release one by one, the sound of the zipper sliding down sounding unnaturally loud in the stillness. Beatris's heart races faster as she watches her pants start to open, revealing the white sheer lace thong underneath.
She swallows hard, her mouth suddenly dry. The sheer material provides minimal coverage, leaving little to the imagination. With each inch the zipper slides down, more of her toned thighs and the enticing curves of her bottom are revealed. Finally, the zipper reaches the end, and Beatris releases a shaky exhale.
Beatris takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what is about to come next. With trembling fingers, she reaches for the waistband of her pants, grasping it tightly. She wiggles slightly, easing the fabric over her wide hips and down her long, toned legs. The pants slide lower, revealing more of her white sheer lace thong underneath.
As she continues to push the pants down, the sheer material rides up, exposing the tantalizing curves of her bottom. Beatris bites her lip, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with embarrassment.
With a final tug, Beatris manages to remove her pants completely, standing before them in just her underwear. The cool night air kisses her bare skin, sending shivers dancing across her body. She can feel the weight of their gazes, the intensity of their stares making her heart race faster.
Beatris stands tall, trying to maintain her composure despite the vulnerability she feels. She knows that this is just the beginning, that there are still many challenges ahead. But she also knows that she has the strength to face them, no matter how daunting they may seem.
Beatris stands before Daniel and Alex, her gray business suit pants discarded at her feet. She is left wearing only her bra and sheer white lace thong, the thin material barely concealing anything. The panties are virtually see-through, allowing tantalizing glimpses of her perfectly trimmed pubic hair
Her mind calculated the next steps automatically. She was down to her final layer. The layer she had instinctively assumed she could keep. But she already knew what was coming.
“Underwear too.” - Daniel reminded.
Beatris had always been a master of control—of her body, of her emotions, of every subtle reaction that might betray her true thoughts. But now, standing in the dim moonlight with the river waiting ahead, she felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest.
Her mind raced through the logic again, forcing herself to process it purely as a tactical decision. It made sense. It was necessary. Any fabric that clung to them after the crossing could betray them, leaving damp evidence on the pristine floors of the facility.
And yet, for the first time in years, she felt exposed. Not physically—not yet—but in a deeper way.
They’re professionals. They won’t think anything of it.
Still, she hesitated. It was irrational, inefficient—two things she had trained herself to never be. She had walked through enemy lines disguised as someone else, had held a poisoned knife beneath a dinner table while charming a CEO into revealing classified secrets.
And now she was hesitating?
The mission came first.
Beatris's heart pounds loudly in her chest. A wave of embarrassment washes over her, but she knows that this is a necessary part of the mission. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what is about to come next.
With trembling fingers, Beatris reaches for the clasp of her bra, her cheeks flushing hotly. She hesitates, her internal conflict battling against the knowledge that she must comply for the sake of the mission. After a moment of indecision, Beatris forces herself to continue, unhooking the delicate material with shaking hands.
Her fingers tremble. With a deep breath, she fumbles with the clasp, finally managing to undo it. The straps slip away from her shoulders, the bra falling to the ground at her feet.
As the delicate material falls away, Beatris's large breasts spring free, bouncing slightly with the movement. Her nipples harden in the cool night air, the rosy buds standing out against the pale flesh. Beatris swallows hard, feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way she never has been before.
She didn’t look at the others. Nobody was looking at teach other, but they were spies trained to notice every small detail of their surroundings, and she knew they did notice everything.
She kept her gaze locked on the river ahead, as if the cold water would wash away not only the risk of the mission but also this sudden feeling of vulnerability.
Beatris stood frozen for a moment, her heart racing as the weight of the situation settled over her. Her usual confidence faltered in the face of such vulnerability, and a wave of hesitation gripped her.
Removing her panties — something so simple yet so revealing — felt like a monumental step that exposed not just her body, but her sense of control, her carefully cultivated identity. She fought against the rush of embarrassment flooding her, aware of the eyes of her team, but reminded herself that the mission came first. The mission. Beatris drew in a deep breath, steeling herself against the discomfort, knowing that there was no turning back.
With shaking hands Beatris reaches for the waistband of her sheer white lace thong. She hooks the thin sides of the panty with her fingers begins to peel the flimsy fabric down over her hips, revealing more and more of her most intimate areas with each inch.
The cool night air kisses her sensitive skin as she exposes her genitals. She continues pulling her panties down until they slip over her knees and then drop to the grass around her feet. Beatris steps out of the garment, now complately bare before her team mates.
Her black trimmed pubic hair contrasts against her pale skin, drawing attention to her most vulnerable area. Beatris's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red as she stands completely nude.
No time to hesitate. Beatris puts all her clothes in the water tight bag and seals it. Daniel is already in the river.
Beatris took the first step, and the icy water swallowed her foot like a living thing.
A sharp, biting cold shot through her skin, latching onto her nerves, wrapping around her ankle with a grip stronger than steel. She fought the instinct to recoil, to pull back—but she couldn’t hesitate. Not here. Not now.
She took another step. Then another.
The river crept up her calves, and the sensation worsened. Her breathing quickened despite her best efforts to control it. Short, fast inhales. Sharp exhales. The chill dug into her muscles, sending tremors through her legs, but she forced herself to move forward.
Her thighs submerged next. Water crawled up her legs untill reached her warmest parts.
The sudden cold shock to her most sensitive areas made her body tense involuntarily, a shudder rippling through her as her skin turned taut from the cold. Every nerve screamed for warmth, but there was none to be found—only the relentless, numbing grip of the river.
She clenched her jaw. Beatris pushed forward, deeper.
Beatris forced herself forward, step by step, as the freezing water crept higher, stealing the warmth from her skin, inch by inch. The river was relentless, wrapping around her waist, her stomach like a suffocating sheet of ice. As her chest went below water, her breath came in ragged, uneven bursts, each inhale sharper than the last.
She had trained for extreme conditions — but this was different.
This wasn’t controlled. This wasn’t in a simulation with warm barracks waiting afterward. This was the real world, and the mission didn’t care if her body was locking up from the cold, if her muscles screamed for relief.
The current surged again, rushing past her, pressing against her like an invisible force determined to drag her down. It was deeper now, stronger. Every step felt heavier, her feet struggling to find solid ground beneath the unseen depths. Her balance wavered.
She clenched her fists.
A flicker of doubt crept in—just for a second. A dangerous second.
Can I keep going?
It wasn’t the pain. She had endured worse. It was the way the cold reached something deeper, something instinctual, something that made her body scream at her to turn back.
But turning back was not an option.
A deep breath — shaky, uneven, but determined.
She locked her jaw, pushing forward with every ounce of control she had left.
The others were moving too, each step deliberate, careful. They had no time for hesitation, no room for failure. The facility was waiting on the other side, the mission hanging by a thread.
And so, she moved.
One more step. Then another.
The mission demanded silence. Every movement had to be precise, every breath controlled. The team waded through the freezing river like shadows, the dark water swallowing their footsteps. They couldn’t afford mistakes. Not this close to the target.
Beatris moved carefully, her body trembling from the relentless cold. The water had already drained the warmth from her skin, turning every step into a battle against the numbing grip of the current. Each ripple in the water felt like it carried the weight of their mission.
Her breath came in quick, shallow bursts. She fought to keep it steady, to ignore the way the icy water clawed at her, wrapping around her waist like a living thing.
Then—a misstep.
Her foot slid off the unseen riverbed.
In an instant, the current seized her.
It yanked her downward, dragging her off balance. The shock of the freezing water crashing over her shoulders was like a sudden blade to the chest—a paralyzing jolt that stole her breath.
For a moment, there was nothing but water. Dark. Cold. Unforgiving.
The river rushed in her ears, deafening. She kicked, fought, but the current was too strong. It pulled at her limbs, trying to carry her away.
No—no, not now.
Then—a sudden grip.
Firm. Unrelenting.
A warm and strong hand caught her waist, pulling her back with force. The jolt sent a shock through her already frigid body, but it stopped her from being carried away. The grip tightened, steadying her, keeping her above the surface.
Beatris gasped for air, her heart pounding as she clung to her rescuer’s strength.
“Got you,” Alex murmured — controlled, professional. But urgent.
She couldn’t see his face in the dark.
For a second, he didn’t let go. The warmth of their naked bodies pressing together was welcome.
Only after he felt her steady herself did his grip loosen.
Beatris forced a nod, suppressing the tremor in her voice. “I’m fine.”
No time to dwell. No time to recover.
They had to move.
The team stood on the riverbank, their silhouettes barely visible in the dim light. Their heads were turned slightly, their focus still on the treeline ahead—but they were waiting for her.
Beatris was still in the water.
The moment she stepped out, every layer of protection would be gone. No water, no darkness, nothing to shield her from their eyes.
She clenched her fists beneath the surface. The men weren’t staring—not yet. They were professionals, trained operatives, but the weight of their presence pressed against her like an unseen force. They were aware. They knew she was there. Waiting. Delaying.
Beatris swallowed hard, forcing her mind back to the mission. This wasn’t about her. The stakes were too high for hesitation.
Her pulse pounded in her ears as she finally moved. The waterline dropped inch by inch as she stepped forward—hips, thighs, revealing more and more of her chiseled athletic, yet feminine body, knees—until only her ankles remained submerged.
A gust of wind cut through her like a blade.
"Should i cover myself?" she thought to herself. She didnt want her teammates to see her weak. She must be strong. She must not show fear.
She steeled herself, squared her shoulders, straightened her back, lifted her chin and took a pose of power with her palms on hips, confidently standing, not covering her body, without a drop of fear.
The team turned.
Beatris was puzzled for a split second. Did the super spies lost control and just blatantly gazed at her?
For a fraction of a second, Beatris thought she saw something shift in their eyes—a silent understanding of her vulnerability. But it passed in an instant as she saw a question in their gazes. Her bag with clothes was missing.
Beatris forced her breathing to steady.
“The bag’s downstream,” she said, voice clear, controlled. “We need to retrieve it.”
There was no turning back. The mission had to continue.
***
The forest was dense, its tangled undergrowth like a living thing, pressing in from all sides. The team moved swiftly, efficiently—shadows gliding through the darkness, their dark uniforms blending seamlessly into the night.
All except for Beatris.
She was the only one without cover. The only one completely vulnerable.
Each step forward was a battle against the environment. The cold was relentless, clinging to her skin, seeping into her muscles like an iron grip. The damp earth was uneven, riddled with twisted roots and jagged stones that threatened to trip her with every step.
But worse were the branches.
They lashed at her arms, her legs — scraping across her exposed skin with every movement. Some were thin, snapping easily against her momentum, but others were thick, thorned, leaving behind thin, stinging lines that burned in the freezing air.
She bit down the discomfort.
The others had no such burden. Their uniforms shielded them, their movements unhindered as they maneuvered through the obstacles with silent precision. They didn’t have to worry about the cold biting into them. About every part of their body being left exposed to the elements.
Beatris forced her mind away from the discomfort.
Focus. The mission comes first. Always.
Her bag. That was all that mattered now.
A flicker of movement in the distance—there.
The dark silhouette of the bag swayed gently in the wind, caught high in the branches of a tree. It had landed in the worst possible spot—out of reach, stuck between the thick, interwoven limbs.
***
Beatris steadied herself against the rough bark of the tree, her breath controlled but tight in her chest. Every movement had to be precise—there was no room for error. The night was suffocatingly silent, the weight of their mission pressing down on her. She could hear the faint rustling of leaves below where her team remained hidden, waiting for her to complete this task.
Her hands gripped the bark, fingers scraping against its uneven texture as she pulled herself higher. Her arms strained, her body working like a machine, but inside, her mind raced with anxiety. The moment she reached the upper branches, her stomach twisted. The bag was just out of reach.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. The only way to reach it was to extend her leg almost into a sideways split position. She hesitated, but not because of her flexibility. Her team was right below her and providing such an entertainment for them was not in her plans.
But the mission did not allow nor freedom of choice, nor time for delays.
Biting back her unease, she extended her leg and reached the far branch, hanging her body weight with her arms. Slowly she lowered herself into a full sideways split.
The movement made her entire body tense. Her muscles burned from the stretch, her thighs trembling from the exertion. It wasn’t just difficult—it was excruciating. Every fiber in her being screamed for relief. But more shocked was her modesty, screaming from the view that she offered to her teammates, who wihout doubt could see everything.
And then—
The searchlight flickered through the trees.
Panic clutched at her chest. She had no time to adjust.
She froze. Not a single twitch, not a breath. The mission was at stake.
Below, her team melted into the shadows, disappearing from sight. But she was still in the open. If the beam shifted just a few inches higher, she would be seen.
She could feel the heat rise to her face—not just from fear but from frustration. She was stuck in the most humiliating position imaginable, stretched across the branches, body locked in tension, completely vulnerable. Her mind screamed at her to move, to shift, to cover herself, to do anything—but she couldn’t. Even a single breath felt like a risk.
The spotlight sometimes moved across her, guards being unable to notice her in the leaves, still the light did highlight her body for her teammates in ways she didnt want to think about.
Her arms trembled. Her legs ached. The seconds dragged on like an eternity. She struggled, her muscles tensing, buttocks clenching, an exquisite sight for her teammates
She clenched her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. The longer she stayed like this, the worse it became—the unbearable burn in her limbs, the desperate fight to keep from collapsing, the knowledge that her team was down below, witnessing every second of her struggle.
The searchlight lingered.
Her lungs burned from holding her breath. Don’t shake. Don’t tremble. Don’t fail.
And finally—finally—it passed.
The darkness returned.
Beatris let out the faintest, shakiest breath of her life, but she wasn’t safe yet.
She had to move. Now.
Her legs screamed in protest as she forced herself forward, pushing through the pain, reaching—stretching—just a little farther—
Her fingers brushed the strap of the bag.
Almost—
CRACK.
A sharp snap split the silence.
The branch beneath her foot broke.
Beatris’s world tilted as she lost her grip. The rush of air roared past her ears, and for a split second, the ground seemed to surge upward to meet her. Instinct took over.
She twisted midair, years of training sharpening her reflexes. This was no ordinary fall—it was a test of control, a moment where panic could mean disaster. But Beatris was not just any spy.
Her arms adjusted her center of gravity, legs bending as she angled herself. At just the right moment, she tucked into a roll, flipping once, twice—then extending her limbs with a perfect landing.
A crouch. A breath. A silent recovery.
The impact sent a slight tremor through her legs, but she absorbed it like a seasoned acrobat. Not a sound was made.
For a moment, the team simply stared. No one spoke, but in their gazes, she saw it: a flicker of admiration, a silent acknowledgment that she was one of the best.
But there was no time to revel in the moment. The bag.
She retrieved it swiftly. Clothes back on in a matter of seconds, her movements fluid, efficient. The cold night air faded as she fastened the last piece of her uniform, mind already shifting to the next phase.
No one needed to give the order. They moved.
Through the dense foliage, past towering security structures, toward the heart of the weapons facility. Every step was calculated, their shadows barely distinguishable from the night.
They infiltrated like ghosts.
Security systems disabled. Guards evaded. Their target—compromised. Data stolen, sabotage initiated.
And when it was time to leave?
They left nothing but chaos and confusion behind them.
The mission was a resounding success.
As Beatris vanished into the dark alongside her team, a small smirk played at her lips.
She had not only survived the night—she had owned it.