4K Version Camera fades into a dim room. Door creaks. Missy slips inside barefoot, black latex catsuit gleaming, ponytail swinging. “Ah ha, the mainframe…” She kneels, slides a USB in. Transfer starts. Behind her, the henchman ghosts in. She yanks the drive. Turns. Hands up. “I can explain—“ Too late. Stomp. Flash drive crushed. Fade. Fade back. Missy’s on the floor, frogtied tight, latex squeaking, ballgag around her neck. She blinks, struggles. “Let me go!” Henchman steps in. She puffs: “MI6 will send backup!” He whispers something. Her face falls. “They disavowed me?!” She wriggles, reaching for knots; hands get taped shut. Ballgag fills her mouth; more tape wraps her jaw. “Mmmph!” Left alone to writhe. He returns, peels layers off, dangles the gag. “Going to release me?” Head shake. Sponges shove her mouth open; microfoam cleaves in tight circles, then another thick wrap sealing from nose to chin. Missy squirms, gagged moans, shiny latex straining.
