I hang out in the hills overlooking the lake for two hours, mourning my loss. There's no way she won't take the opportunity and run. I've kept her as my hostage and slave for a long time now, and while I'm not worried about the police, things on Sicily run differently than the rest of Europe, I still feel sad.

The fact is, I couldn't force her to stay any longer. I reach into my pocket, taking out the satin ribbon that I've been carrying around. It's the one I dream about, the ultimate ribbon in my mind. Part of me has been wanting to ask her to put it around her graceful, elegant neck. But that's a level of submission that has meanings, has an intensity behind it that I can't force on her, not that I ever have really. It's what made Jessica unique.

“Fuck it, makes my job easier anyway,” I whisper to myself, wiping at my right eye as some dust gets inside it and makes it water. “Bitches be holding me down.”

I get back in my truck, closing the door and thinking. The FBI must really be freaking the fuck out about The Sultan's weapons shipment to be so direct in telling me to take him down. For three years now, almost as soon as I graduated the Deep Cover course at Quantico, I've been infiltrating The Network, using a combination of my real identity and made up information to work my way in with Scoglitti. I used my villa as a quiet place of solitude, a place that I had at least a chance of privacy to think, even if Larissa drops by unexpectedly.

Eighteen months I've been working to disrupt The Sultan. I kept hoping that by feeding enough information to the FBI, that they'd use their friends the CIA or Israeli Mossad to take Omar Al Gazi down. I've fed them times and shipment details, what I knew about his locations. I knew the Italians weren't going to do shit, but I kept hoping he'd get tagged on the far end of his deliveries. Barring that, I was hoping that by planting enough seeds of doubt with Scoglitti and Rachmaninoff that The Sultan would find himself on the outs, and maybe he'd be eliminated in a nice little 'internal' matter.

No dice. Now they want me to confront him directly, to bring the two of us to full on dealings. Doing so risks three years of work in addition to my life. Never mind that if I do it wrong, I blow the entire point of my operation, which was to work internally to allow The Network to be contained. I won't say eliminated, no fucking way would the power brokers who I already know are 'customers' of The Network would let all of the skeletons out of the closet.

It's the biggest reason I've been so unsure about which side I'm on. It's all well and good to talk about being one of the good guys when you're in a nice antiseptic classroom in Quantico and you've got some stoolie who used to be the man before he got his ass in a sling and came running to Uncle Sam telling you about how bad the bad guys are. It's something else when you know that at least ten of the motherfuckers who voted on the appropriations bill that paid for your paycheck are customers of the same bad guys. Tough on crime my ass, they're tough on the criminals who won't play ball with them, that's all. Soon as you demand that Senators start paying retail for their sins, your ass is in a sling.

But now... I don't know. Being with Jessica, I've started to wonder. Sure, keeping her as my 'slave' for sure means that I'm a full fledged criminal now, I mean slavery is kinda against the fucking Constitution. But she makes me wonder about what the hell I've been doing. I have to figure out something, and I guess it's easier that Jessica's gone. I'll need the time to think, to plan, and to prepare myself for what most likely will end up with someone, or more than one someone, dead.

I drive back to my villa, hitting the remote control on the front gate, grateful at least that Jessica closed the door behind her when she left. I go up the stairs, each step feeling like a thousand pounds, and before I open the door I look out over the hills, where I'm sure she is now. “Good luck, Jessica. You were... you were worth every euro.”

I unlock and open my door, shocked by what I see. Instead of an empty, ransacked house, Jessica's dressed in my newest outfit for her, a light tan billowy skirt of unbleached cotton and a pale gray sleeveless blouse, standing over the stove in her bare feet, frying something. “Jessica?”

She turns, a smile coming to her face as she takes the pan off the fire and I smell the scent of herbs, olive oil, and toast. “Welcome home Master. How was your business?”

I close my door, taking two tries to put my keys back in my pocket, still blinking in shock. “What... what are you doing here?”

“Making lunch Master,” Jessica says, pouring the pan of toasted chunks of bread onto a sheet tray and putting them in the oven. “I'm sorry, I thought I'd have this done before you got home, but the bread needed more toasting. Would you like something besides panzanella?”

“No... no, that's just fine,” I reply wonderingly. “Thank you.”

Jessica gulps, then lowers her eyes. “I'm sorry Master, but I don't deserve your thanks. I left my room without your permission and... well, you can see the bag on the table.”

I go into the dining room, where I see my duffel bag in the middle of the table, a silent confession to what Jessica nearly did. I unzip the top and look inside, a knot working itself into a ball in my chest before loosening. She stayed. She stayed!

I take the bag to Jessica's room and set it on her bed, then go to the kitchen where she's still cooking, slicing up tomatoes with one of the kitchen knives that I'd previously not let her use. I cross my arms, forcing myself to put on a stern look. “Jessica. Set the knife down and look at me.”

She sets the knife down immediately and turns, her gray eyes swimming with doubt as I look at her. “Yes, Master?”

“When I left, you were in your room, yes?”

“Yes, Master.”

I nod, then let a whisper of a smile come onto my face. “And you passed my test. You didn't leave, you were a good slave.”

“I nearly did, Master,” Jessica says. “I'm sorry.”

I nod, and go over, grabbing a handful of her hair and forcing her head back before kissing her hard, our tongues clashing and wrapping around each other. She moans into my mouth, and I know that I was more correct than ever. She's unique, one of a kind. Two hundred and fifty thousand euro was a bargain for this woman.

“You still need to be punished, you know,” I growl when I let go of her hair and step back. “You left your room to nearly run away, you touched the knives I haven't let you use... and you took my money.”

“I know, Master.”

I watch her, warmth growing in my chest. I purse my lips, lifting an eyebrow. “So just how should I punish you?”

Jessica holds herself perfectly still, her eyes gleaming in fear and happiness as I think. Finally, I smirk. “I have a few ideas. First, you lose the right to clothing, other than your outdoor sandals, for the next twenty four hours. So go take off that dress, put it and the rest of the items in the bag away, and come back. We'll have lunch, and then we'll take care of the rest of your punishment. Understood?”

“Yes Master,” Jessica says, a wide, joyful smile lighting up her face as she gleefully prepares to accept her 'punishment.' Seriously, there's no other woman in the world like her.

“Good. You have five minutes, or else your bread's going to burn. Now go.”

* * *

I strip the fold down bed, Jessica swallowing nervously when I fold up the sheets and point. “Get on. On your knees, hands behind your back, wrists crossed.”

Jessica nods, I told her at lunch that once we came in here she wasn't allowed to speak except to answer a question, and she obeys perfectly. Kneeling, she's scared and nervous as I go over to my cabinet and take the ropes off the wall. They're kinder than what some people use, silk instead of harsh jute or manila, but useless pain is not my goal here. The goal is restriction, taking away her freedom of movement and to teach her control of her body.

I start with her wrists, looping the rope around slowly, each layer binding her tighter, tighter. I don't have the time for intricate weaving patterns, but I still make sure that Jessica is bound securely before I take her hair and tie a short cord into it before pulling her head back and then fastening it to her wrists. If she bends her head forward, she'll pull on her shoulders. If she keeps her wrists down, her neck will be stretched. Uncomfortable, but not injurious.

I keep going, binding her legs next using the eyelets on my wall and at the corners of the bed to keep her perfectly in the middle, her ass up, her pussy already gleaming and dripping down the inside of her thigh as I strip all the way and come around to her head. “Look at me, slave.”

She turns her head carefully, hissing when her wrists are pulled, but I was careful. When she's looking at me I nod. “You will not have a safe word for this. But, if you are truly injured, you are to tell me. The ropes will hold you, but if your legs or hands go painfully numb, you are ordered to tell me. Understand?”

“Yes Master,” she says, her eyes roaming over my body.

“Look forward,” I order, and she obeys while I go over to the tool rack, taking off my cat o' nine tails. The first lash is the hardest to make her jump, but I've whipped too many people to actually injure her. The skin on her back and ass redden, but I control the lashes just right, not letting them cut her at all. With each strike she hisses, but I can see her pussy, and I watch her face carefully, she's being driven wild by it.

“You may speak, slave.” I command as I put the cat away. Her entire back from her shoulder blades to her ass is pinkish red, and my cock is aching, hard and stiff in front of me as I look at her beautiful figure. “You took that well.”

“Please Master... punish me more,” Jessica half moans, half sobs. “Please.”

“You have no idea,” I growl, getting on the bed behind her. I reach for the emergency scissors and cut the cord holding her hair to her wrists, I want her to be able to look if she wants to.

Jessica howls in lust and a little bit of pain as I grab her waist and slam my cock into her, all the way to my base in one hard stroke. Her pussy is something I've never thought possible, we've fucked at least fifty times or more since she submitted to me, but her pussy is perfect. She wraps her body around me as I thrust, with just the right amount of tightness that it's heaven with each and every stroke, and best of all, she loves it no matter how fast or slow, how hard or teasingly soft I go. Jessica cries out again with my second thrust, looking back over her shoulder with tears in her eyes. “Yes Master! Fuck me!”

“Take it, slave,” I grunt, not slowing down. I thrust hard and fast, driving my cock as deep and as hard as I can into her heavenly body, my hands gripping tightly at her waist. A thought, a desire comes to me and I slow down, pulling back but keeping my cock still inside her as I stop.

“Master?” she asks, her body galvanizing when she feels my thumb rub over the puckered ring of her asshole. A soul deep moan rumbles in her chest, and I can feel her try to push back, but she can't because of the ropes. “Ohhhhh, Master.....”

I push my thumb in at the same time I slide my cock deeper inside her pussy, Jessica's eyes rolling up in her head as she feels the dual invasions. Using the grip that her ass gives me I fuck her hard again, finding that pace that I want. The training room fills with the sound of our hips slapping together, the sound of our quickening breath, and the sound of my cock being sucked in and out of her sopping wet pussy.

“You like it, don't you?” I growl, pulling my thumb out of Jessica's ass with an audible plop and grabbing the ponytail of her hair. “Whose slave are you?”

“Master's,” Jessica moans, trembling on the edge as my cock pounds her perfect pussy.

“By your own choice?” I demand, letting a question from my own deeper emotions in. Jessica nods, and I pull her hair tighter. “Say it!”

“I choose you, Master. Only you,” she moans, her eyes showing me something that both scares and elates me. No way can this be happening, not now, but I'll take it.

“And you're going to be a good slave from now on, right?”

“Yes Master,” Jessica whines, her body trembling on overload. “Please Master... please, let me come....”

“After I come,” I order, shoving her head away and seizing her hips, abandoning myself to fucking her as hard as I can. She's otherworldly, the body that was made to take everything I have to give, and I'm caught up in pure bliss as my cock is massaged and gripped by her body. I pour myself into her, closing my eyes and feeling myself for the first time in my life totally comfortable with a partner. Jessica takes my pounding and takes me for who I am, not asking anything more.

“Soon,” I promise her as I feel my cock swell, my balls aching for release. Still, I discipline myself by focusing on listening for Jessica's breathing, listening to her cries as my eyes close... and I'm there. I come, feeling hot jets of my cream fill her body as I empty myself totally to her. I realize that after having so much sex that there's a chance that she could get pregnant from all this... but for the first time in my life, that doesn't seem like such a bad thing.

Jessica gasps, moaning deeply as I feel her pussy tighten around my cock as she starts to come, and I relish the feeling of her caught helpless in her own orgasm as the ropes hold her totally immobile. She tosses her head though, crying out my name in reverence as I hold myself inside her before she sobs, putting her head on the mattress and her back heaving. I pull out, rubbing her back as I stretch out on the bed next to her, watching her carefully as she trembles and cries.

“It's okay, Jessica. I'm here, and I'm going to take care of you.”

“I know,” she finally whispers, turning to look at me. “Thank you, Master. For everything. For punishing me for being bad. For taking me in, for giving me so much. For teaching me so much. Thank you.”

I smile and lean in, kissing her bewitching lips before pulling back, grinning evilly. “Who says that your punishment's over yet?”

I climb off the bed and go over to my shelf, thinking before I pick up the small remote controlled vibrator and the lockable 'chastity belt.' I carry it over and slide the small electric green egg inside before wrapping the leather belt around Jessica and locking it closed. I hold up the remote, Jessica's eyes going wide as I hit the button and the device turns on low for a moment before I turn it back off and reach for the first knot on her upper body, starting the slow process of freeing her. “Now... now we can do your real punishment. Let's say... four hours? Until after dinner?”

Jessica smiles, nodding. “Thank you Master.”

“And you better not soil my harness. Or else.”

“Yes Master. I'll be a good slave,” Jessica says, smiling happily.

I smile back, stroking her sweaty, sex blushed cheek. “I know you will.”