Delivering His Heir by Jesse Jordan (32)

Rodrigo

Jessica's eyes widen as she looks around the bedroom, her mouth dropping open. “You mean it?”

“I mean it,” I reply, my chest strangely warm. I'm just doing what I promised, I don't know why this should mean so much to me, but seeing her smile, I'm touched. “This is your room now. If you choose to obey the new rules.”

“What are the new rules, Master?” she asks eagerly. “How can I... how can I please you?”

“First,” I say, pleased even by the look in her eyes and on her face, “is that this room is yours, but in giving it to you, you must keep it spotless. Each day your bed will be made to standard. The clothes, and you'll be getting a wardrobe appropriate for a lady, will be hung properly in your closet, your dresser neat and tidy. You understand?”

“Yes Master,” Jessica says, and I have to admit, a little thrill runs through me when she calls me that. I'm tempted to take her again right now, but that would bring me to my other main rule.

“Two, and this is the big one that I want you to think about. If you accept this room, then you give up the sexual contact rule we've had. This room will become your only 'safe space.' Inside it, I swear that I will not touch you or order you to do anything sexual with me. In this room, and this room only, you will be in full control of yourself and what you do here.”

“And outside this room, Master?” she asks, swallowing nervously.

“Outside this room, I will be in total control. I will still not lend you out, you are mine and mine alone Jessica, but if I tell you in the middle of cooking breakfast to get on your knees and assume the position... you better hope you don't burn the eggs.”

“May I speak freely, Master?” she asks politely, and I nod. “So my choice is.... I say yes, and I get this room and more I assume, but sexually I must always be willing to serve you, to do any and everything you demand. And if I say no, I go back to my room downstairs, where I will still have the right to have to ask you for sex?”

“Yes. Oh, one more thing,” I say, the thought coming to me. “In the training room, your safe word still applies.”

I watch Jessica's incomparable face think, then she nods. “I accept your offer, Master. When can I start moving my things?”

“We can start right now, if you'd like.”

Jessica grins girlishly. “I'd like that very much. And Master?”

“Yes, Jessica?”

“If I invite you into this room?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. I read what she's asking me and I chuckle, she's saucy inside still.

“I have the right to refuse... I doubt I will though.”

* * *

Jessica licks her lips, the last of my seed disappearing between her twin coral pink devilish bands of softness as she looks into my eyes, smiling. “Thank you Master. You're delicious.”

I don't know if she's being honest or just trying to ingratiate herself to me more, but hearing her compliment me after I just got done blowing a load into her mouth is thrilling. In fact, for the whole week since moving into her new room, it's been thrilling. We've used my training room twice, but also we've had sex every day. I'm finding myself insatiable, needing and demanding her luscious body almost as soon as my cock says that it wants more. And each time, Jessica has responded not only obediently, but with a fervor and enthusiasm that tells me she wants it as much as I do.

I stroke my hand through her hair, smiling back at her. “You're very obedient, my Jessica. I must admit, I was testing you a little. I really didn't think you'd give me a blowjob right here in the middle of the courtyard.”

She laughs, getting to her face and tucking my cock back into my underpants almost reverently before tugging my workout shorts up. “I didn't think you'd be so energetic after a hard workout, Master. Should I make dinner now?”

I nod, watching with fondness as Jessica makes her way up the stairs, her ass swaying in a way that I know Larissa taught her specifically to try and entice me. I remind myself to thank Larissa when she gets back, but the fact is I don't need any more enticing. Just putting her in better clothes has been enticement enough. She's got a body that some of the local designers don't like, they seem to only make clothes for bobble headed anorexic stick figures, but the designers that know how to dress a woman... they'd drool over what I just saw go inside.

I follow Jessica inside, where I see her taking out the wrapped package of local boar mince from the freezer. “Boar?”

“I was thinking in my room, there's a slight modification of gatto di patate con ragu that I'd like to make for you. You need lots of protein, as active as you've been,” she says, blushing slightly. “If that's okay?”

“I think your chemistry background is finding an outlet that's a lot more delicious and day to day useful than it would have been otherwise,” I reply. “What can I do to help?”

Jessica tucks a lock of her golden hair behind her ear and smiles. It's one of her best looks, when she's accepting a compliment not on her body or her heart stopping sexiness, but on her intelligence. It's sometimes hard to forget when we're having sex, but she's brainy in a good way, which makes her even more valuable in my eyes. “If you don't mind Master, would you please finely dice two carrots, four cloves of garlic, and an onion? You know, since you get to play with the sharp objects and everything.”

It's a little bit of back talk, but she's doing it in good fun, and I have to admit, having her keep me on my toes is exciting too. “Deal. What are you going to be doing?”

“Making the mashed potatoes,” she says, taking out the vegetable peeler. “Also Master, I was thinking... you mentioned the other day about cultivating your property again. Well, I don't know about what it was like down in Camden, but up where I was, there were a lot of people who kinda tried to do that whole farm to table thing, only to find they couldn't grow anything. But potatoes and herbs are pretty easy. I could even start some herbs right here on the windowsill of the kitchen.”

“That bored, are you?” I ask, chuckling. “I'll think about it. In the meantime, put together a list of what you'd need to get a garden started. Besides a lot of sweat.”

“Sweat, as you know, I can do very well Master,” Jessica teases, and I chuckle. “What?”

“I think I'm going to have a very, very sweet dessert tonight,” I reply, looking at her. “After dinner, change into that light blue short dress I gave you. No panties, they'll just get in the way of my tongue.”

Distracted by my comment, Jessica's hand slips and she catches her thumb with the vegetable peeler, cutting herself. “Shit!”

It's not deep, but I can tell that it's right on that part where everything stings, and tears come to her eyes as the salt from the water she's cooking the potatoes in starts to sting. She's brave and tries to hide it, but this isn't a training session, where the pain is supposed to have a purpose. This just fucking hurts.

“Let me see,” I say, my voice calm. I take her hand and hold it under the faucet, letting the water sluice away the salt. “Okay, that's gonna sting for a while, keep it there while I get you a band-aid.”

I find my first aid kit in the bathroom, and when I come out Jessica's still crying softly, but I can tell it's not from pain. “It's okay, Jessica. I'm sure you've cut or burned yourself worse than this before.”

She sniffs. “Yes Master.”

“Then why cry? Do you think I'm upset with you?” I ask, and she nods once, miserably. “Well I'm not. It's my fault that I distracted you, it's my fault you got hurt. So here's how we're going to make it up. For the rest of the evening, you tell me what to do to make dinner, and then a nice, quiet evening. No unexpected sex, no crazy demands. Just a nice evening together.”

Jessica perks up, sniffing and wiping her nose with her unbandaged hand. “I'd like that, Master.”

“Then what's next?” I ask, relaxing into the task of being the cook while Jessica bosses me around. She walks me through the recipe expertly, tasting from time to time and helping with one handed tasks while I finish everything else. When I scoop the meat sauce into the hollowed out mashed potato 'boats,' Jessica nods approvingly.

“Very good Master. You have a deft hand, but I already knew that.”

I chuckle, picking up the two plates. “Jessica, you don't have to praise me, you know. Not that I mind.”

“And you don't have to compliment me either, Master. But you do.”

Her comment makes me think, and I set our plates at the table, holding the chair out for Jessica. “You have a point. Let's eat.”

Dinner is delicious, in fact since giving Jessica more freedom as well as more duties, my diet's not only improved but gotten a lot tastier. “Are you sure you're not a trained chef?”

“No, I was honest when I told Larrisa that at Rutgers I barely cooked for myself at all,” Jessica says. “What about you? No amount of hard work in the warehouse is going to make up for eating crap, and you do not have a crappy body.”

I chuckle, warmed again. “I've learned more than just a few basics, but honestly, I spent a lot of my evenings outside the house, even when I didn't have work. Speaking of which, I'd like your opinion on something.”

“What is it, Master?” she asks, relishing her food. Watching Jessica eat is foreplay in itself, and I have to remind myself that I promised her no sex demands tonight.

“I might have a new position within The Network soon. A promotion to capo.”

Jessica raises an eyebrow. “That's a good thing, isn't it?”

I nod, then shake my head. “I'm pretty young for a potential capo position, but there's a special reason The Network wants me. They've decided that with the recent changes in Washington, they're seeing North America as a potential area for expansion.”

Jessica goes quiet, her face clouding, and I set my spoon down. “You don't approve.”

Jessica thinks, then shakes her head. “Master... I've come to accept, even if I don't quite like, what you do. I know there's a lot of places in the world where what you do would be considered normal, or just good business.”

“Sicily being one of them.”

She nods, her face still serious. “Yes, Sicily being one of them. But Master... North America? Would you really want to bring what The Network does to your home country? Would you really want to be part of the drug trade that floods the streets of Camden, or Philly? What about the girls, too?”

I laugh, and pick up my spoon again. “Jessica, every time I think that you're getting a clue, you somehow remind me that you're still pretty innocent in all of this. Not stupid, you're far too smart to ever call you stupid, just innocent. The Network is already in North America. It's a small potatoes operation currently, mostly on finding girls for certain clients. We've actually never had to have a situation like what happened to you, we get flooded with requests from girls in Asia, in South America, in Eastern Europe, all of them willing to take up a life ten times worse than what you have for a chance to live in America. Right now, there are four CEOs of NASDAQ listed companies who have girls who were delivered to them by The Network. So trust me, everything's already there.”

“So what do you want my opinion on?” Jessica asks.

I shake my head, unsure. “I don't know. I guess... well, how would you feel about moving back to the United States? It'd be under a false name of course, we'd have to get you some fake papers.”

Jessica thinks, then shrugs. “I don't know, Master. If I can be totally honest, there's a part of me that wants to, because I know the system. In the USA, I can get away, get my freedom.”

I nod, the same thought coming to my mind. “True. And no Jessica, I wouldn't leave you behind in Sicily while I went to America. But what about the other part of you?”

Jessica shrugs. “There's the side of me... there's the side of me that likes calling you Master for more than just the sex. The side of me that looks forward to going into the training room with you, the side of me that... the side of me that wants to serve you. That likes being yours. It's hard for me to understand it still, Master.”

“I'm not going to ask you to give me your opinion on which side is stronger right now, Jessica,” I reply, chilled deep inside. Is it all going too fast? I don't know. “Let me clear the table.”

“No Master, I can do it,” Jessica says, standing up. “I'll get dessert too. I can still handle a butter knife.”

I watch her as she walks away, feeling like I'm both the luckiest and the unluckiest man on Earth. The fact is, if I am made the capo of North America, I'd either have to be very strict with Jessica... or get rid of her. And I can't get rid of her.

Jessica takes a while to come back, and when she does, I can't help but smile. “You changed into your short blue dress. Why?”

Jessica blushes and sets the small bowl of pudding down in front of me. “Even though you said no demands Master... that doesn't mean I can't hope for a few requests, right?”

I chuckle, picking up my spoon. “Well, maybe I can find room for two delicious desserts tonight.”

* * *

The next morning, Jessica positively glows as we sit down to breakfast, but before I can pick up my fork, my cell phone rings that I have a message. Not my normal phone... my other phone. Jessica looks up, surprised. “Master?”

“Just a moment,” I say, going into the kitchen and pulling out the phone. Call ASAP. Hi pri.

Shit. I put my phone away, rubbing my temples. Not today, I don't need this shit today. Hurriedly I grab my keys, going back into the dining area. “I have to go out for a few hours. So I need you to go back to your room. You can take breakfast with you.”

Her face falls, but Jessica obeys, getting her plate and a spoon, going to her room. I watch her sit down at the small vanity table and I watch her for an instant. “Yes, Master?”

I shake my head, my mind going back to what we talked about last night. “Nothing, Jessica. I promise, just a few hours, then we'll talk. I thought about your idea for a garden, I think I'd like that. We can discuss details when I return.”

I close Jessica's door and reach for the lock, and then at the last instant... I let my hand drop away. Maybe it's a test, maybe I'm testing myself as much as her, but I turn and walk away, getting in my truck and driving two kilometers into the hills. The lake is a lot closer here, on good days you can even catch the scent of the fresh water, different from the northerly breezes that brings in the ocean most of the time. I get out of my truck and look around, making sure I'm alone before placing my call. It's picked up immediately.

“You're fast. Didn't think you'd be at home.”

“Yeah well, I didn't have anything planned this morning past a workout. Nothing's going on until this afternoon. What do you want?”

“Omar Al Gazi's weapons shipment.”

“What about it?” I ask, watching as a hawk circles in the sky. “I already sent you the details. From what I'm hearing, you guys have been doing a good job of fucking with him, he's had to twice cancel the shipment because the buyers get nervous.”

“It has to be disrupted. He's shipping nerve agents.”

“No shit, I'm the one that told you guys. What the fuck you want me to do about it?”

My contact rumbles, his voice growing rough. “Watch you mouth, you're still on our payroll. Fact is, things on this end... we can't get the shipment broken up permanently. Boss man's pissed off the Israelis and the Turks. They aren't listening to us right now. They think that it's not their backyard anyway, so fuck it.”

“And I'm supposed to stick my neck out because you guys won't play kiss and make up with them? My advice is to tell the boss not to go over there and make an ass out of himself. Fuckstick.”

“My advice to you is to remember that even though you're Deep Cover, you're still an agent of the FBI, Special Agent Campo. You have orders. Disrupt the shipment. If you have the opportunity, arrest or take out The Sultan.”

“Take out? I thought you were supposed to be the good guys. Ordering hits is what The Network does.”

“You have your orders, Campo. We'll be in touch.”

The line goes dead, and I shake my head. Fuck.

Like I didn't have enough going on in my fucking life. Well, at least they want me to take out The Sultan, I already have beef with that guy. Manufactured beef, I've been trying to take him down for a while the slow way, but still beef.

Still, I think as I slide behind the wheel of my truck and watch the lake for a while, why does it feel like even though I'm supposed to be one of the good guys, I'm working for the side that's got no balls? At least in The Network, if you want to kill someone, you man the fuck up and kill them yourself.

I sigh, shaking my head. All this, for an extra sixty seven thousand dollars a year. Chump change compared to what I get to keep from The Network.

I'll give Jessica a little more time on her test, then head home. If she passes... I think I have something for her.

Jessica

When Rodrigo closes the door, it's funny how in my mind I think of him as Rodrigo when he has clothes on and Master otherwise, I wait for the second or two it normally takes for him to throw the exterior lock on my door. When there's no rattle, no little metal on wood sound that I've gotten used to, I pause, wondering if maybe he's forgotten something he wants to tell me, something he wants me to do while he's gone. Then I hear the engine on his truck start up, and I look out the narrow window that gives me a view of the outside, shocked when he pulls away.

“Rodrigo?” I ask wonderingly before I go over to my door and knock. I try the knob, and it turns easily before the door pops back, startling me. I can see my lock just sitting there, freshly screwed into the wood to keep me secure, but for some reason the bolt was never shot this time. I look out, worried. “Master? Rodrigo?”

Silence greets me, and I step out of my room, my heart in my throat. I can hear a bird singing outside, and the sound of the wind against the north side of the house, but nothing else. I feel strange creeping around, checking each room, wondering what the hell is going on.

Then it dawns on me. He didn't lock me in.

He forgot.

This is my chance to run!

I blink, shocked for a second before I hurry to Rodrigo's room. I grab the duffel bag that he uses when he brings me gifts and carry it back to my room, grabbing things quickly. I don't have any ID, but if I can get out of this town, I can easily get over to Palermo. There's a United States consulate office there. They'll hear my accent, maybe they'll let me make a call to the States, where even if Rodrigo's threat that The Network's eliminated my ID is true, they can't have eliminated Mom.

I throw what I can think of quickly in the bag, a pair of jeans, a change of underpants, a couple of t-shirts. As I do I run through what else I know. I know I'm near Caccamo, I've heard Larissa and Rodrigo use that word before, and once there was some mail left on the counter of the kitchen. If I remember Sicily right, it's not far to the northern coast, where there's a big highway that goes straight to Palermo. I've got to be able to find a bus or something that can get me there.

Still, I'm going to need supplies, and I go into the kitchen, opening the fridge. Two bottles of water, a box of crackers, a nice block of Parmesan cheese, just in case. When I open the cabinet where Rodrigo keeps the sharp knives, I stop, surprised at the plastic sandwich bag that I see inside. I take it out, my eyes widening as I see the three rolls of euro bills inside. I quickly take them out of the bag, seeing that one's a roll of twenty euro notes, another of one hundreds, and then a roll of five hundreds. I don't have time to figure out exactly how much it is, I just take the rolls and throw them into the duffel bag.

“Call it severance pay,” I whisper as I close the cabinet and head to the door. I put my outdoor shoes on and reach for the doorknob to the outside. I know that the villa's surrounded by a wall, but there has to be a way around or through the gate, it's not that high or there have to be some sort of manual controls.

Wait.

My hand freezes, so close to the doorknob that I can feel the coolness of the metal radiating the short distance to my skin. What?

What if this is a trick?

What if it's not? What if this is my chance to get away from here? What if this is my one and only chance to not be a slave?

What if you don't want to go?

I stop, pulling my hand away and thinking. My internal voice has to be crazy, or maybe it's just afraid. I mean, I've been a captive here for a long time, over two months by my count. Rodrigo's been my Master for two weeks, and before that... yeah, I've been here over two months. Of course it's afraid.

I'm not afraid. Well, not totally. I'm being serious. What if you want to stay?

Stay? Stay for what? Being locked up at night, a pet in a cage?

Stay because of him. Not in fear of him. Because of him.

You're out of your fucking mind.

It's your fucking mind, remember.

I groan, grinding the heels of my hands into my eye sockets, the pain... delicious. Like the pain of Master when he's got me in the training room, my body on fire with intense sensations, pain and pleasure and ecstasy all mixing together and overloading my brain and my body.

No other man's ever given you anything like that.

That doesn't mean it can't happen. Just because I know I like it doesn't mean Rodrigo's the only man in the world who can do it for me. Fuck, I lived an hour from New York City. You can find anything in New York. You can probably find two of everything even.

Yeah, you're right. You can find someone to tie you up, whip you, spank you or whatever. But... it won't be Master.

Yeah... well, I'm not doing this because I'm afraid of him. Got it?

Got it.

I back up from the door and take the duffel bag, putting it in the middle of the small table that we were going to eat breakfast at. I go back to my room and retrieve my now cold breakfast, eating it quickly before I take it and the other plates to the kitchen in order to start washing up.

Rodrigo said that he'll be back in a few hours. Maybe he'll like it if I have lunch ready for him. The question is, what can I make that can keep just in case he takes longer than he said? There's nothing worse than cold pasta, and I have no clue how to make pizza dough.

I think, then decide on a panzanella salad. We've got some stale bread, I can toast that up.... yeah, I think that'll work just fine. I hope Rodrigo won't mind if I use one of the sharp kitchen knives, there's no way I can cut up the bread without one.

Rodrigo

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.”

Jessica

“Would you like to start doing work outside?” Rodrigo asks as he finishes tying his shoes. I stop, setting down the cloth that I'm using to dust the living room table, shocked.

“You mean it, Master?” I ask, my heart catching. “You want me to leave the house without you?”

Rodrigo nods, patting the cushion on the couch next to him, smiling. He smiles more now, and as I greet nearly close to three months since I came to his house, I'm finding myself looking forward to that smile more and more. It's not his seductive smile, or the smile he gives me while we're training together. It's his smile, the one that says that he's actually pleased and happy with me. I get up and settle down next to him, where he puts a warm, protective arm around me. “You've been here a while, yes?”

“Yes Master. About two and a half months.”

Rodrigo nods, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “And you've shown yourself to be trustworthy. You've earned it, and you said that you wanted to have a chance to make a little garden, right? So, yesterday when I was out I stopped by a farming supply shop and talked to the owner. I didn't buy anything, but I want to discuss that with you. If you want, maybe we'll go get the supplies this afternoon. Go, get your outdoor shoes, and I'll meet you outside.”

Rodrigo gives me a kiss on the temple and pats my butt as I go, thrilling me as much as the promise of a trip outside the walls of the villa. I hurry back to my room, changing my socks and grabbing my outdoor shoes which are very useful when the rains come through. I hurry to the stairs and sit down, putting them as Rodrigo watches with a bemused expression as he stands in the middle of the parking area between the warehouse and the house, the sun shining down on his jet black hair and broad shoulders like an entertained demigod. “Saving yourself some work for later?”

I laugh, nodding. “Of course. I might enjoy keeping you happy, but that doesn't mean I like doing the mopping more than I have to!”

I hurry down the steps to meet Rodrigo in the courtyard, where he and I walk. “I wanted you outside for another reason,” he says as we go around the walled area. “In addition to working outside, I wanted to ask you if you're willing to accept more privileges.”

“With new responsibilities?” I ask, and Rodrigo nods. “I'm interested, Master.”

Rodrigo grins, and reaches into his pocket, taking out an inch wide metal choker, either in steel or silver I'm not sure. It looks like wire mesh, but it's decorated, the holes in the mesh bunching together in places to form designs. He pulls it through, and I can see one of the decorations, it's his initials. “This... I've had this for a few years now. The person I was with at the time, I thought she was strong enough to accept this. She wasn't. It's the first big step for me, Jessica. I've called you my slave, I've called you my pet. But this.... this is truly real to me, play time is in some ways over. If you accept this, there's a promise of a bond that's going to form between us. And a promise that you have to make me.”

“What's that, Master?” I ask, and Rodrigo takes my hand.

“Jessica, if you accept this, it marks you as mine, totally and fully to the whole world. This collar, it doesn't come off except when I remove it to wash your neck. And no matter what the order, no matter what I request you to do, you promise to do it. No restrictions on any order I give you.”

“Including your promises not to lend me out or have me become a whore or a killer?” I ask nervously, and Rodrigo nods.

“You've trusted me with your body, now you have to trust me with your dignity,” Rodrigo says. “If you do, here's what you get in return. Total and complete freedom to move within the walls of the villa, and the ability to go outside the walls as long as I escort you until you have learned enough Italian so that you don't stick out like a tourist. I will take you at your word on this.”

I blink, a million thoughts running through my brain all at the same time. The fact is, since my scourging, I've never been happier, or more confused, in my entire life. Each day is a focused haze, waking up with only the thought of serving my Master on my mind, seeing what I can do to make him smile, to please him... and yes, to feel his almost divine cock somewhere on my body. To feel him fucking me, to see the pleasure on his face as he comes and to feel the release as he lets me come too. He's a good Master, always letting me come too, sometimes more often than he does even. The outside world is just sort of some sort of secondary, almost imaginary world. Politics, religion, prime time television, even my now abandoned doctorate... it just doesn't matter as much as Rodrigo. It's nothing like what I thought my life would be like when I got on the plane in Newark to start my 'European adventure,' but... but I'm happy.

“I have a question, Master. What about my room? Is that still a safe space?”

Rodrigo shakes his head. “No, Jessica. If you take this, if I give this to you, this means total, complete submission. The only safe area you will have is in your safe word within our training room. With complete submission has to come complete trust. I won't make that mistake again.”

Part of me wonders what he means, but then I realize... it doesn't fucking matter. What matters is the collar, and what Rodrigo is trusting me with. I nod, pulling my hair up and exposing my throat. “I'm yours, Master. I swear it before any and all if you want me to.”

I can feel a slight tremor in Rodrigo's hands as he puts the collar around my neck, and the click as the lock attaches. It's not heavy, but still the weight of it is strangely lightening to my heart and in a fit of giddiness, I put my arms around Rodrigo's neck and kiss him softly. His hands rest on my hips for a moment before pulling me to him, and I melt into the power of his charisma. “On your knees.”

I get down, expecting to have to swallow his cock, but instead Master pulls his cock out, stroking it in front of my face, pausing only to let me lick the tip. His eyes are dark and stormy with emotion as his cock grows harder to its full magnificent length, and I look up at him with utter devotion in my eyes. My Master, the man who will protect and take care of me, and all I have to do is submit to him.

“Open your mouth,” he says, and I open wide, just as the first blast of his seed shoots out, Master splattering my face with his precious gift. One spurt hits me in the eye which stings like the fucking devil, but then the next creamy blessing hits my tongue and my body is alive with the feeling of his release. He covers my face with his seed, dragging the tip of his cock down both of my cheeks and across my forehead to spread it around. I feel reborn, and while maybe it's sacrilegious, I'm still blessed either way. I swallow, once again no longer the woman I was even when I woke up this morning, but somehow stronger. I gently nuzzle and suck his cock clean before putting him away, tugging his underwear up before kissing the cottony bulge and then closing his pants.

“Thank you Master,” I whisper as he gestures for me to get up. I go to wipe my face, but Master stops me, shaking his head, and I understand. I was just marked, I'm Rodrigo Camponini's property, and I'm to wear his sign and seal until he tells me not to. My hand falls away, and I put my hands behind my back, my only frustration being the heat burning inside my body and wanting release too. “So what now, Master?”

“Now,” Rodrigo says, looking at the collar on my neck with approval, “now we select where your patch of garden's going to be, and then we go to the farm supply store. I didn't buy a pickup truck because I want to be some rhinestone country boy. I bought it to be able to do real work.”

I'm quiet for the whole trip to the supply store, looking around at the rolling, beautiful terrain that surrounds me. In the distance I see a castle, and I feel my breath taken away as I consider the rural paradise that I'm in. A lake glitters to the right of us, and I wonder if some day Rodrigo and I might go to that lake for a swim, or to enjoy a picnic. The naughtier side of me wonders if he'd like to fuck me right there on the side of the lake, or even in the water. While I've never been an exhibitionist before, the idea of showing the whole world, or at least whoever the hell wants to watch, that Rodrigo is my Master and that I belong to him makes me even hornier than I already am.

The supply store is laid out like any other small home and garden shop I've ever seen, just with less selection crammed into one quarter the space. The best part though is listening to the the chattering, the few customers talking with the shop owner in loud, boisterous Italian that I've missed. It's both fun and painful, I've forgotten just how loud other people are.

Rodrigo and I select the tools I need, which isn't much. A pick to break up the soil in our selected spot, a shovel to help turn it, some hand tools, and some fertilizer, just in case. Over the past few days Rodrigo's asked me to figure out how to do compost, and we can use gray water too, water on Sicily is precious as spring starts and the summer heat's just around the corner.

“I liked your idea for potatoes, but I had another idea too,” Rodrigo says as he puts a tray of cuttings in our cart. “Artichokes and nopal cactus are popular around here, and my nearest neighbor has honeybees. If we plant some flowers for him, he'll give us a couple of jars come harvest time. That'll give you time to experiment, make mistakes, and then next planting and growing season come fall, you'll be able to really do some miracles.”

“Okay M.... Rodrigo,” I say, stopping myself. “Uh, we didn't talk about that before we left home.”

Rodrigo grins and nods. “No... but you did perfectly. Come on, let's get checked out, get this stuff home.”

The clerk is a young woman, maybe about my age, and when she recognizes the shine of Rodrigo's dried seed on my face, she blushes, looking at Rodrigo for a second before looking back at me with envy in her eyes. If only she were strong enough to handle my Master. It's with only a little bit of haughtiness that I lift my chin, showing off my collar, and Rodrigo laughs softly as he puts an arm around my shoulder to whisper in my ear. “You're bragging, Jessica.”

“I know,” I whisper back. “Why shouldn't I?”

Rodrigo gives me a warm look before we load our stuff up and drive back to the villa, pulling through the gate and parking the truck. “Okay, let's get this unloaded before we get dinner started.”

I get out, picking up some of the tools and taking them over to the area that we picked out, it gets morning sunshine and evening shade, setting them down in the packed dirt. Just as I do I feel Rodrigo grab me from behind and pull me to him, his lips hot and burning on my neck as he kisses my neck before turning me around and kissing me full on the lips. He picks me up and carries me over to the bed of his truck, setting me down on the tailgate and kissing my neck again. “You're so fucking hot being proud of your collar,” he growls in between kisses, his hands rough and delicious on my ass. “I want you to call it out.”

“I'm Rodrigo Camponini's,” I call as he pulls on my jeans. He gets them unbuttoned, tugging them down before smacking my ass hard. I yelp, and he smacks me again.

“I thought you were fucking proud? Say it like you mean it!” he says, tugging my panties down. “Who's your Master?”

“RODRIGO CAMPONINI IS MY MASTER!” I call out, loud and proud as he bends me over. The afternoon light is warm, and a thrill goes through me. This isn't giving him a quick blowjob in the courtyard, this is full on fucking, my ass and pussy exposed to the air even if we are still semi-private, and I love it. I gather my breath, and call out my heart's deep happiness. “I'M HIS SLAVE, AND I'M HAPPY! PLEASE FUCK ME MASTER!”

Master hums happily and drives his magnificent cock into my sopping wet cunt, which has been hot and almost oozing since he coated me before we left to go shopping. He's fast, but not as hard or as harsh as before, and when he reaches underneath me to stroke my breasts the sensation is softer, but just as electrifying. It's scarier than when he pounds me or calls me his pet, because in his strokes, in the way that I feel him time himself so that he's bringing me pleasure as well as him, I feel something else too.

This is more than sexual devotion. When he's like this, I feel like I'm more than just his fuck slave, more than a servant who is proud to have a sexy, handsome Master who enjoys my body. I feel more than just the pleasure of exploration of pain and pleasure from the training room... this is something different. It's more frightening though, but at the same time more deeply wanted. I feel whispers of it when he laughs at my jokes, or when he gives me a look as we're cooking or doing other things around the house. I feel it when he gives me little presents, and right now, as he not only fucks me but does something more, I feel it more, growing deep inside me.

“Master... please, oh fuck please, I can't take much more,” I beg, the fear growing inside me as he keeps driving himself into me, my nerves on fire from the pleasure. “Please Rodrigo... oh fuck....”

“Just a little longer,” he promises, and I can feel him speed up. I hold on as best I can, pushing back into him and trying to urge him along with my body, even as the last of the barriers inside me, the ones where I've locked the last little bit of the old me, are battered by his cock and what he's doing to me.

I can't help it, Master pushes me over the edge and I come, my pussy clamping around him and milking his cock. Master shudders, coming again and driving me into the tailgate of his truck, the metal biting into my hips and adding just enough pain to let me retreat from the more frightening things being done inside me. I ride out my orgasm, enjoying the feeling as Master holds me close, our hips pressed together and my jeans around my knees. When he pulls out, he turns me around, looking deep into my eyes.

“Are you okay, Jessica?” he asks, his voice rough and tender at the same time. “You've never called me Rodrigo while we have sex before.”

“Yes Master,” I whisper, swallowing and trying to hide the nervousness his eyes are causing inside me. “I guess... I guess today's meant a lot to me too. I'm sorry I screwed up.”

Rodrigo lifts his hand and lays it on my cheek, then lifts his fingers before tapping them lightly on my cheekbone. “There. Your punishment, you just got slapped. Let's get you fixed up, and get the rest of this stuff unloaded. You paid me a very high honor today, Jessica. The collar, but what you called out... thank you.”

“Thank you, Master,” I sniff, on the verge of crying again. “Please excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

Rodrigo nods, and I flee, going inside to the toilet, where I can sit down, and finally let a few of the fear driven tears inside me loose. The question I have as I cry is... what exactly am I afraid of?

I don't know, and that makes me cry all the harder.

* * *

The sun is warmer today, and sweat trickles between my breasts as I lift the pick again. Maybe I've been doing workouts like Larissa showed me, and maybe Master and I have been having more sex than a hutch full of fertile rabbits, but my back and shoulders haven't been lifting gardening tools, and they ache. Still, I only have a little more work to do to finish the plot, and then I'll take a rest.

It feels great being outside, and I have to admit, the trust that Rodrigo's given me is powerful. Sure, not having any 'safe spaces' is scary, but no more scary than the rest of the world. Actually when I think about it, I do have a safe space. Within these walls, I'm in a whole separate, private world that keeps me safe.

I hear the gate to the villa open, and I turn, feeling unexpected surprise. Rodrigo isn't supposed to be home for another hour or two, and while I wanted to have the dirt finished by the time he got home for a late lunch, I'm still happy to see him.

What comes through the gate though isn't Rodrigo's truck, but a white SUV. The man who gets out is swarthy, and as soon as I see him I remember him from the slave pens. Surprised, I step out into the middle of the courtyard, my pick still in my hands. Did I just think that I was safe within these walls? What a delusion. “Leon.”

“Your owner should teach you some manners, including not teaching you my name,” the Algerian says, unbuttoning his jacket. “Where is he?”

“Rodrigo is at The Farm,” I reply, icy terror going through me when I see the pistol on Leon's hip underneath his gun. “Why not try looking for him there?”

Leon shakes his head, tucking the tail of his jacket behind his holster and clearly displaying it, but at least he doesn't take it out. Still, I hold my pathetic little gardening tool in front of me, like that would stop Leon if he wanted to put three rounds in my chest. What frightens me more is the way he looks me up and down, like a piece of meat, but not in a good way. “The message I come to deliver is not for The Farm. Tell your owner that The Sultan knows what sort of things Rodrigo's been saying about him. Tell him... tell him that The Sultan isn't happy. And as for you, if I were you I'd get ready to change houses. Kahled and I still owe you a fucking for what was done to us.”

“You try and touch me, you better have that pistol out and pressed against my chest,” I threaten, sounding stronger than I feel. On the inside I'm terrified, I know I'm helpless. “And you better pray I don't put this pick up your ass and show you what fucking really feels like.”

“Smart mouth American bitch. Just for that, when you suck my cock, you'll be doing it with no teeth in your head,” Leon says, but he backs away. “Remember, tell Rodrigo that The Sultan knows. He fucks with The Sultan again, and he will regret it.”

Leon gets into the SUV, driving over to the gate and hitting a remote control. The gate opens, shocking me even more as Leon drives out, the gate closing behind him. I drop my pick, utter terror gripping my heart, and run inside the house to lock the door behind me before retreating to my first room downstairs, there's no windows and I can close the door behind me. My old mattress is still there, and I cower behind it, trying not to cry as the waking nightmare overwhelms me.

Rodrigo

The sky is just starting to turn a regal purple when I get home, later than I thought but that's okay, I was busy with things at The Farm. Getting into the weapons warehouse took a little bit of craftiness, and I had to be even more careful with my modifications to some of the crates. Fifty Claymore mines, daisy chained together and rigged with a sort of cell phone detonator takes some time but can easily sink a boat the size of what The Sultan uses for transport. It takes time to prepare, and can be finicky work. With a little bit of luck, the roughly thirty five thousand steel pellets from the mines can perforate not just the boat, but most of the crew, The Sultan himself, and maybe even the nerve gas. Just looking at those pressurized canisters fills me with dread.

Now though, I feel better knowing that Jessica is waiting for me, and that we can enjoy a quiet evening together. I wonder how much work she got done on the garden today, and as the gate to the villa rattles open, I don't see the pick lying on the dirt until it's almost too late. I stop my truck and get out, curious. “Jessica? JESSICA?!?!”

There's no answer so I pick up the pick out of the dirt and carry it over to the stairs, my heart speeding up when I find the door to the villa locked from the inside. I use my key, following the dirty bootprints to the inside stairs and down to the first floor, where they stop about halfway down. Still, it's my best bet. “Jessica? Where are you? It's Rodrigo!”

There's a shuffle, and the door to Jessica's old, first room opens and she peeps her head out, her eyes filled with fear before she sees it's me. She launches herself out towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck and sobbing in fear and relief. She's babbling incoherently, but I console her as best I can, holding her carefully and stroking her back. Her shirt's soaked, but I can smell the scent of her sweat, this isn't exercise sweat but fear, terror induced sweat. “Shhh... what happened? I came home, and you dropped your pick, I find you down here... what's wrong?”

Jessica sobs, then lets go, her face angry. “You promised! You promised and you lied to me!”

“What do you mean?” I ask, confused but also angry, not at her but whatever caused this. I don't know what's happened to her, but she's obviously scared out of her wits, and whoever did that is going to fucking pay. “Wait. Come upstairs, let's sit down, you can tell me what happened.”

“Sit down?” she asks, half hysterically. “He threatened to rape me, Rodrigo! He said that he'd break all my teeth off then force his fucking cock down my throat! You want me to sit down and tell you this like I'm telling you about some recipe?”

She starts to break down again and I take her in my arms, holding her closely, stroking her back tenderly as I try to suppress the rage building inside me. “The Sultan.”

“No,” she whispers, sniffing. “Leon.”

I shake my head, hissing in anger. The Sultan's errand boy, he didn't even have the fucking common courtesy to threaten me himself. “That fucking slime.”

“Rodrigo, you promised me... when you first bought me, even before you were my Master, you promised that you'd protect me! You promised me that I'd be safe with you, that none of... none of the shit that makes up the other side of your life would come here without you! He came in, used a fucking remote like he was you! That gate didn't stop shit!”

I take a deep breath, my anger mixing with my fear at what almost happened to my... to my Jessica. “Okay, I got it,” I say quietly. “Jessica, you're right. I promised you that I'd protect you. And I'm telling you again, I will protect you. You're more important to me now than ever before, and I'm going to get this taken care of. Now... come upstairs and tell me exactly what happened.”

Jessica listens to my voice this time, and when she looks up at me she's still scared, but holding out hope. “Okay... Master.”

“That's a good slave,” I whisper, stroking my thumb underneath one beautiful silvery gray eye, smiling reassuringly. “Come on, let's get you some tea or coffee, and you can tell me all that happened. Then I'm going to go out and deal with this.”

“Master, please!” Jessica says, but stops when she sees my face. She understands, I can't just stay here and hold her to keep away the boogeymen who threatened her. “Yes Master.”

I lead Jessica upstairs to the kitchen, where I put a kettle of water on to boil while I get two mugs down and a container of herbal tea. “All right, start at the beginning again, and take your time. The water's still got a few minutes until it boils.”

She starts over, telling me slowly and carefully from the beginning what happened. I'm shaken on the inside, but I can't let Jessica see it. Instead, when the water comes to a boil I cut the heat and put a teaspoon of loose tea leaves inside. “Okay. First off Jessica, you did just fine. Leon, he broke quite a few major rules of The Network when he came here, and I'm going to deal with that tonight, as well as with The Sultan. Now... about your protection.”

I gesture for Jessica to follow me, and I take her into my small home office. Behind the picture I have on the wall of the New York skyline, I have my safe, and I use my fingerprint to open it. “Sicily isn't the States,” I say as the safe reads my thumb and pops open, “so while I travel strapped, I keep my gun normally in my truck unless I've got a reason to worry. This is my backup. Have you ever fired a gun before?”

“Just one time, a friend of mine took me to a gun range. We shot AR-15s. It was for a psych study on gun control as an undergrad,” she says, looking at the Beretta I hold out warily. “Master... are you sure?”

“One hundred fucking percent sure. If anyone other than me comes in this house, I want you to shoot first, shoot some more, and when they're dead you can stop to reload. It's got twelve rounds,” I say, jacking the slide and loading one, “and it's hot now. Safety's on, I don't need you accidentally shooting yourself in the foot with nerves. Here's how you switch that off. Other than that, point and shoot, it's a single action semi.”

I demonstrate the safety, then reverse the pistol, holding it out to her. Jessica takes it in awe, looking at me with those big eyes of hers as she realizes the amount of trust I'm putting in her hands. Forget kitchen knives... she could kill me right now, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Her grip tightens, and I smile as she takes the gun and holds it properly, with her finger outside the trigger guard. “Yes Master.”

“Good. Now, follow me. It's going to be a bit of a bitch to deal with, but we'll figure out another system later,” I say, leading her outside to the motor that controls the gate to the villa. I reach up, snapping off the remote sensor, disabling it. I thought, when I installed the system, that having a remote control only gate would be helpful. Not that it stopped Larissa, but nobody else ever tried to clone my signal. Well, that's not going to happen again. “When I get back, I'm going to have to use the outside intercom to call you inside, and then you'll have to walk out here to trigger the gate manually using this button. Got it?”

“Yes Master,” Jessica says, and I give her a hard kiss on the lips, tasting her and feeling my heart harden inside. Leon, The Sultan might be your boss... but you fucked with the wrong bull today. This isn't about The Network, this isn't about the fucking FBI or Deep Cover. This is about Jessica, and my house. “Be careful?”

There's still a little bit of softness in me right now, and I stroke her cheek again. “I'll be back. If I'm not, take the money you found before, along with what you find in the safe, I left it open. Get to safety.”

I run over to my truck, getting in just as the last of the sun's rays drop out of the sky. Jessica's brave as she hits the gate controls, her eyes watching me intently as I pull through. “Good luck!”

“I'll be back!” I promise her, driving away into the night. I reach for my phone, and pull it out, looking for The Sultan's number. I call him up, the phone buzzing in my ear as I rumble down the dirt road. It doesn't take him long, he picks up after the second ring.

“Mr. Camponini. How nice of you to call, I hope you got my message?”

“Cut the shit, Al Gazi. Your man broke so many fucking rules today that the time for niceties is done for the moment. Where's your piece of shit henchman?”

Omar Al Gazi has always had a cultured voice, probably something he picked up that allows him to interact with the upper crust of Middle East society, but I still can't stand the arrogant fuck. “Leon? Oh, he's here at my townhouse. Would you like to speak with him?”

“No, what we need to say isn't for the fucking phone. I'm on the road, I'll be there in thirty minutes.”

Unlike the rest of the capos and me, Omar Al Gazi only maintains a townhouse in Sicily, a luxurious place in Termini Imerese, but still just a townhouse. His main property from what I understand is in Turkey actually, and of course his quarters on his various ships are all luxurious, even at the cost of losing cargo space. Not that he cares, he owns a dozen different ships.

I push my gas pedal a little harder, putting on speed as I head towards Termini. The Sultan's building overlooks the water, and when I park my truck, I see Leon waiting for me in the parking lot. He grins, already reaching for his waist as I close the distance with him. “Rodrigo, so good to see you again.”

I don't say anything, my right hand crashing into his jaw and shattering it, blood and two teeth going flying as Leon goes tumbling to the pavement. I grab him by the lapels of his sportcoat and knee him, his head snapping back and giving me the satisfying crunch of another few teeth breaking off. I reach for his hip and take his gun, a piece of shit Marakov that's all show and no go. Just like Leon. “Now who's got no teeth for biting down when a cock's jammed in there, huh?”

Leon's unconscious, so I drag him by the coat to the elevator, using the card key I find inside his pocket to give me access to the penthouse. The elevator's slow, and about halfway up he starts to stir, but nothing else until the door opens and I grab his leg, dragging him out onto the marble tile entryway to The Sultan's townhouse. “Al Gazi!”

I gotta give The Sultan credit, he doesn't have any more goons with him when he steps out of his front door, but in his hand he does have a pistol, a giant Desert Eagle that he's carried with him for a long time. It's showy, but unlike his bitch boy, it's got plenty to back it up too. When he speaks, he doesn't sound upset or angry at all, just... perturbed. “Rodrigo, I was just having a brandy. What happened to Leon?”

“Your boy here threatened to take my property, my slave, pry her teeth out and rape her. Him and Kahled both. So, I took care of the tooth removal on his part.” Leon stirs again, starting to wake up, and I stomp down with a boot onto his nuts, crushing them hard before I twist my heel back and forth. Leon screams breathlessly before passing out, and I turn my attention back to The Sultan. “Looks like I took care of the threatened rape part too. Hope you got room in your operation for a eunuch. I warned him I'd do it the last time he thought he could threaten me.”

The Sultan clucks his tongue, displeased. “Leon... I never should have sent him. Too worried about trying to sound tough rather than just deliver the fucking message. I underestimated you, for that I should have planned better.”

“Oh, don't worry, I got your message,” I reply. “Now, I got a message for you. My doubts about your security risk, my doubts about your loyalty to The Network, all of it... they don't mean shit compared to this, right here. You send your boys to break into my villa again, you threaten to steal my slave, you threaten my life or my slave's life again... and I don't care if you are a capo in this organization or not. I'm coming for your fucking nuts.”

“Big words for a man with no backup,” The Sultan says. “So... can you back them up?”

“Try me, Al Gazi,” I rasp, staring a hole into him. “Try me, and The Network's going to be looking for a new contact man in the Mideast. Now, Hammurabi's Code, I got my eye for an eye. You and I.... we stay out of each other's way.”

I back up, there's no way I'll trust turning my back to him, and call the elevator to open. It's still waiting for me, and I hit the button, not turning my eyes away from The Sultan at all. He watches me, his eyes not drifting from mine at all as the door starts to close. “Good evening, Mr. Camponini.”

“Good night, Al Gazi.”

Jessica

I keep the ear piercing scream behind my lips, but just barely as I sit up in bed, panting and sweating. The nightmare is fading, I can't remember the details, just that it was dark, there was blood, I was alone....

I shiver, shaking my head. I look over at the clock and see that it's nearly two in the morning, and it's the third time I've woken up since Rodrigo came home, panic driving me from sleep each time. Each time it's a nightmare filled with darkness and death, each time I try to put it out of my mind, only for the nightmare to lurk in the back of my mind, coming back each time I fall asleep.

I shake my head again, trying to think of something to help. I can't get drunk, other than some wine Rodrigo doesn't keep alcohol in the house. I can't go out, just the idea of going into the night alone sets my teeth on edge. Desperate, I get out of bed and leave my room, letting my feet carry me towards Rodrigo. I slow when I reach his door though, not sure if I'm allowed in. Of course I've been in his bedroom many times, cleaning is one of my duties, but I've never actually been in here at night. Still, I don't know what to do, and I open his door quietly, stepping inside.

The moonlight flows through the larger window that takes up one wall of Rodrigo's bedroom, it overlooks the same walled courtyard of the villa that mine does, and I see him lying on his side, his upper body gloriously naked in the moonlight. I realize, in the months that I've been here, I've never actually watched Rodrigo sleep before, and I take a moment to observe him. He looks more innocent while he's sleeping, the stress and tension of the day eased away from his brow and from around his eyes. He smacks his lips a little as he sleeps, a little smile coming to his lips as he has a good dream it seems.

“Me too, Jessica,” he murmurs in his sleep, laughing softly. “You're very good.”

I wonder what he's dreaming about, and shuffle forward, my foot barely scraping on the wood. Still Rodrigo nearly immediately stops, his body tensing in the darkness. “Who is it?”

“Me, Master,” I whisper, coming over to the bed. “I'm sorry, I just... nightmares. I apologize, I'll go back to my room.”

“No you won't,” Rodrigo says, scooting over and lifting the sheet. “Take off your pajamas and join me.”

I see that he's as naked under the sheet as he is on top, and I feel a familiar warmth as I take off my pajamas and slide under the cool cotton sheets. Rodrigo's body is warm and I can smell his musky essence, that smell that says it is undeniably him. I will admit, there have been a few times when, doing the laundry, I've taken a moment to just inhale his scent from the pillows, they smell so good. Now, his presence reassures me. I wrap my arms around him, holding his body tightly and wiggling a little as I try to get comfortable. Rodrigo strokes my back, his strength easing away my fears and comforting me. Maybe I'm being foolish, but in his arms, I feel like the world can't hurt me. “Master?”

“Yes, my Jessica?” Rodrigo says softly, pulling back his head just far enough to look into my face. He chuckles, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “You know, all the times you've submitted to me, we've never done this in my bed before.”

I nod, smiling back. “It feels nice. Master, please keep me safe?”

Rodrigo nods, leaning in and kissing my lips softly. “I swear Jessica, I'll give my all to keep you safe.”

His lips nuzzle at my neck, and I feel the electric tingle of his body touching mine. I pull the sheet off of us, not wanting to get tangled up in what is about to happen. Master strokes me back tenderly, whispering in my ear. “Up on top.”

“Master?” I ask, shocked. Never, in all that we've done together, have I been the one on top when we have sex. “Why?”

“Because you need it this way this time,” he says in a calm, assured voice, pulling me on top of him. I feel his cock slide between us, already hardening, rubbing against my belly as Master holds me close, kissing me softly. “This time... you control the pace.”

It's different than ever before, and Master is gentle, his hands stroking my back and cupping my ass, not squeezing painfully but massaging, sending warmth through my body. It's both scary and wonderful as I dangle my breasts over his lips and he nibbles on one before switching to the other. Sparks jump across my eyes as he pushes my breasts together so that he can suck on both of my nipples at once, sending me reeling in pleasure and having to grab the headboard to the bed, holding myself over him as Master reassures me. In every kiss, every stroke of his hands he demonstrates his strength even though I'm on top, and my pussy grows wetter and wetter knowing what's going to happen. “Master....”

“When you're ready, Jessica,” he whispers, cupping my neck and drawing me down for another kiss. I lift my hips and moan, reaching down to position his cock at my entrance before sinking down. It's delicious, gentle and comforting, and Master moans too, our breath sighing together as we join.

I sit back, feeling him slip another wonderful bit inside me, and I throw my head back, feeling my collar dig into my skin slightly, reminding me who I truly, really belong to. I begin to ride him, his cock slipping in and out of my body in a slow, sensual rhythm, and as it does I feel myself opening up more and more.

“Jessica,” Master whispers below me and I look down at him, seeing in his eyes a reflection of what I'm feeling. This feels different, and while it scared me before, it doesn't scare me any longer, whatever it is. Instead I trace my collar, looking into Master's expressive black eyes and take him in in the moonlight, watching as his skin begins to glisten with sweat as we move together, feeling our bodies find true and total harmony. This isn't about pleasing him, or him pleasing me. We start to become one, bordering on the limit of something beyond just sex as our hips meet together, Master's cock and my pussy the paper thin line of two people becoming one.

“Master,” I moan as we start to speed up, my ass bouncing off his hips as I ride him faster, harder. Still Master lets me stay on top, even as I lean over and kiss him deeply, his powerful arms holding me safe and protected. “Master... I need you.”

“I have you Jessica,” Master reassures me.

I abandon myself, riding Master's cock hard and fast, feeling the orgasm building deep inside me. I look into Master's eyes and see that he's feeling it too, and that while he wants to roll me over and fuck me hard, he's letting me be in control. It moves me, and I grab him around his shoulders, rolling the two of us halfway across the bed, keeping him inside me but now he's on top. I grin, happy where we are now, and kiss him again. “I submit to my Master.”

He laughs even as his hips take over, driving his cock into me and sending pure pleasure rolling up my body. The head of his cock shifts to rub over my inner spot that sends my head spinning, and I'm closer than ever, my hands clasped behind Master's neck as he strokes in and out of my body. Both of us are gasping, sweat glistening in the moonlight and making us glow like we're blending the limit between human and something more as my Master goes harder, both of us pushed past the point of no return as the heat is too much we can't resist.

“Jessica!” Master groans as he swells and comes deep inside me, the feel of his cock throbbing and shooting deep inside my womb pushing me over the edge. I hold on tight, my body shaking and spasming as my pussy squeezes his cock, milking him for every precious drop while pure happiness and bliss washes over me.

Afterwards, Rodrigo doesn't pull out, but instead half rolls, his cock still inside me as we lay next to each other. He kisses me tenderly, stroking my face. “Stay the night,” he says, half request half command. “I'll keep you safe and warm.”

I nod, closing my eyes and snuggling up against him, my ear pressed against his body just enough that I can hear his breath and his heart as sleep comes over me. I begin to drift in that space in between awake and deep sleep, the little voice inside me speaking up again.

This is what we want.

Is it?

You know it felt different this time.

It did. But that scares me too.

Why? Because this time it was more than fucking? More than just amazing sex?

Maybe.

Maybe, you say. Definitely, I say. Don't tell me that you don't want to go to sleep like this for the rest of your life. Protected and cared for in this man's arms.

What woman doesn't want to feel this way? But... but what if I'm just imagining shit?

You know, Rodrigo keeps telling you to let go. To find your strength in your weakness. Maybe you need to think about what that really means.

Maybe.

Well for now, just sleep. We can talk about this more in the morning.

* * *

I still don't quite understand what happened last night, but this morning, as I wake up in Rodrigo's arms and feel him hum happily as I squirm, I know that I want to do anything I can to help this man. “Master?”

“Yes, pet?” he murmurs, stroking my back gently. “Did you get some better sleep?”

“Yes Master.... but I need to go pee,” I apologize. “Do you mind letting me go to use the toilet?”

Rodrigo laughs and lets go, my body protesting that it wants to be back in his arms even as my bladder tells me to hurry the fuck up. I take care of my business quickly, coming back to find Rodrigo standing in the center of the bedroom, waiting for my return. He's even more amazing in the morning light, even though it's not quite right. If I had my drawing pad, I'd want to wait for him to stand there like that in the afternoon light, when the light could highlight every perfect curve and plane, including the thick root of his cock dangling between his legs.

“You look like you see something you like,” he teases as he stretches his arms over his head, sighing happily as his left elbow pops. “Oooh, you're good to hold, but my elbow got stiff. So... what is it that's caught your attention?”

“You know exactly what, Master. But I was thinking about something else, too.”

“Oh?” he comments, lowering his arms and giving me a bemused look. “I must not be training you right, because seeing you naked like that, I've got only a few things on my mind.”

I feel heat creep up my neck, and I bite my lip, flustered and at the same time turned on. “Master... I'm serious. Can we talk about it over breakfast?”

“That was one of the other things on my mind,” Rodrigo says amiably, chuckling. “Head back to your room, get dressed. Something practical, while you were on the toilet I got a text message from Larissa, she wants to drop by. Most likely to talk about last night.”

I get changed, leggings and a t-shirt since Larissa will most likely want to do a training session with me, and to be honest, I'm looking forward to seeing her again. Breakfast is easy, granola with a side of sausages, and as I put the plates down Rodrigo gives me a measured look. “So what's on your mind?”

I sit down, my manners and 'ladylike' behavior nearly unconscious now, and pick up my spoon daintily. “Well.... I was wondering if there's anything else I can do to help you, Master.”

“Around the villa?” he asks, surprised. “Jessica, this villa is spotless. Unless you happen to know how to do drywall work or run electrical wiring for the areas that still need more renovation downstairs, I'd say you're doing as much as humanly possible since the workers aren't scheduled to come in until after the olive harvest is done. Besides, aren't you looking forward to building your garden?”

I nod, and take a bite of granola before replying. “I do Master. But I want to do more. I feel like I'm repeating myself, but when I got involved with this, things were different, at least in my eyes. And I want to stay safe. I realize, the best bet to stay safe is to be all in with you. And to do that, I need to be willing to do even more than what I am. So, what I'm asking is, is there anything that I can do outside these walls to help you? Uh, even if it's extreme?”

Rodrigo considers, then chuckles. “You need to have a nice long private talk with Larissa. I'll make sure you have that chance when she comes by. I'm not saying you aren't strong enough or smart enough Jessica, God knows you're smarter than most of the people I work with. But you need to fully understand what you're asking, and Larissa can fill you in on what exactly extreme means. In the meantime though, there are a few things that I can think of. Do you know how to fight? I mean really fight, and not what you did to that fucker Kahled?”

I shake my head, and pick up my sausage. “All I really learned in my neighborhood was how to fight dirty. Thumbs to the eye, knees and feet to the nuts, stuff like that.”

“Okay well, we can start working on that too. Dirty tricks only work when the other guy isn't expecting them. And I'll get an Airsoft pistol, just like the real one that I have here for home defense. You're going to learn how to shoot as best you can without actually squeezing off rounds, and every time I'm out of the villa and you're here, you're to carry that thing on you,” Rodrigo says. “It'll be enough. The Network may be criminals, but this is Europe, guns aren't as common as New Jersey.”

“I understand. And the rest?”

Rodrigo chuckles. “Talk with Larissa first before you ask me. Her text said she'd stop by this afternoon, which is good because I've got some work at The Farm I need to do. Don't worry, I'll be carrying the whole day too.”

After breakfast I get on my household duties while Rodrigo does some work in his home office using his computer. After I finish up the kitchen, I do the laundry, hanging everything on the line outside to dry in the spring air, enjoying the warmth. I lean my head back, humming in pleasure as the wind ruffles my hair, when I'm interrupted by a familiar if long missed laugh and Greek accent.

“You look like a woman who's enjoying her life.”

I turn, half surprised but feeling better after Rodrigo's reassurances and his forewarning to see Larissa, as beautiful as ever, her glossy black hair pinned back as she seems to have appeared like magic behind me. “You know, you're going to have to teach me how you do that.”

“Yeah, Rodrigo talked with me on the phone, he said you might need a talking to,” Larissa says, smirking. Her violet eyes widen a fraction of an inch as the sunlight glints off my collar, and she raises an eyebrow. “Is that what I think it is?”

“He's my Master, and I'm happily one hundred percent his slave,” I say proudly. “He's the perfect Master, too. I need to thank you again for all of your training. My body would not have been able to accept Master without it.”

Larissa sighs in wonder and steps forward, reaching for my collar. I take a half step back, then stop, lifting my chin in a sign of trust. “It's beautiful, isn't it?”

“It's something remarkable, I'll give you that,” Larissa says, stroking my collar with a finger before taking her hand back. The door to the villa opens, and Rodrigo comes out, giving us a little wave which Larissa returns. “Hey, I found some really nice jewelry here!”

“Thanks,” Rodrigo says, coming over. “Where's your car?”

“Outside the gate, since you decided to break your damn remote sensor,” Larissa says with a smile. “Not that I don't understand. I heard what happened. Just to let you know, Leon hasn't turned up at any of the local hospitals, so I suspect The Sultan might be short a man today.”

“Good, serves the fucker right,” I growl. Rodrigo and Larissa both give me amused looks, Larissa cocking an eyebrow. “What? That motherfucker threatened to rape me, but more importantly he threatened my Master.”

Larissa looks from me to Rodrigo, and back. “My, my. The wildcat isn't gone, after all. I am so looking forward to our talk, Jessica. But only after we can get rid of this smelly, uncultured....”

I can't help it, I growl and my hands clench as Larissa insults Rodrigo, and Larissa laughs. “Relax, relax. I was teasing you. Rodrigo, I am so looking forward to getting the total and unvarnished scoop, would you please give me and Jessica some privacy?”

“Sure. Call me when you're done, we'll grab an early dinner for our talk. Jessica, are you okay with having dinner alone tonight?” Rodrigo asks. I nod, and he pulls out the gun he showed me last night, handing it to me. “Don't forget, as long as I'm not here, you carry that. Even with Larissa around.”

“Yes Master,” I reply, wondering where to put it before pulling out the back of my leggings and tucking it in there. “Uh... I think I need a holster.”

“We'll take care of that when I return,” Rodrigo says, pulling me in close and kissing me hotly. His lips make me weak in the knees, and I'm still recovering when he gets in his truck and pulls up to the gate, getting out to open it himself before I remember my duties and run over to close it.

When I turn around, Larissa's still looking at me with that amused expression on her face. “Yes?”

“You're very loyal to him,” Larissa says. “Is there more than just being his slave involved?”

“Do you mean have we had sex?” I ask, and Larissa laughs again.

“No. I can tell by the way he just kissed you, and that collar, you two have probably done some things that would make even my toes curl. I don't need details, I might just get jealous of you. To say my assignment was unsatisfying is an understatement.” Larissa turns, and we walk back towards the laundry, which I finish hanging before we head over to the garden plot and I put my gloves on.

“You wanna help?” I ask. Larissa thinks, then nods.

“First, let me ask you a question, Jessica. You've become strong enough to submit to Rodrigo. Is that open to anyone?” she says, stepping forward. “If I order you to get your ass into the training room so that I can fuck you, what would you do?”

“Promptly tell you to fuck off, and if I have to pull my pistol and shoot you in the leg,” I reply without hesitation. “I like you Larissa, I don't know if it's because you're the only woman I've talked with for three months or not. But I will never submit to you.”

Larissa smiles, and takes a step back before picking up the shovel from the tools. “All I need to know. So.... what is it that Rodrigo wants us to talk about?”

“I asked him this morning at breakfast if maybe I could help him outside these walls,” I reply, lifting my pick and driving it into the earth. I stop, and take my pistol out, looking around before place it on windowsill of the warehouse, the walls are thick enough that there's exterior sills too. “I can't pick with that thing scraping my ass. Anyway, I want to help Rodrigo. This Sultan character, he sounds like bad shit. And I'm sure there's more.”

“Obviously. Hmmm...,” Larissa says. She plunges her shovel into the ground, picking up a spadeful before turning it over, loosening the dirt more and preparing it for planting. “Well, maybe me telling you about my assignment would help. Would you like to hear?”

I know I shouldn't, considering how repulsed I was when she told me about it, but instead I nod as I lift my pick again. “Sure. How detailed do you want to get?”

“He had a tiny cock, really. Barely thirteen centimeters... about five inches?” Larissa says, and I laugh, shaking my head. TMI. “Okay, you don't need that level of detail. Anyway, it took me longer than I thought it would to get him alone, Heinrich was a lot more cautious than I thought he'd be. Or maybe it was just that he had to get over a few things first.”

“What's that?” I ask, and Larissa drives her shovel into the dirt again, turning it as she pulls it out.

“Heinrich was one of the big financial people for the Eastern European gangs that have been fighting a clandestine war with The Composer's part of The Network for years now,” Larissa says. “Because of where he's from, and the groups he associated with, me being Greek was seen as... well, let's just say I'm sure that he didn't want to be seen with anyone less than your stereotypical Aryan superwoman.”

“Neo-Nazi?” I ask, and Larissa nods, making me laugh. “Sorry, but any man who looks at you and thinks you're not a superwoman is out of their fucking mind.”

“I agree, and once I was able to get some private time with Heinrich, he was of the same opinion. It just took a little more discretion, and a supposed business trip to get him away from his fuckhead allies enough to get into his bed. Once I was alone with him in his hotel room, I got to try and have a little bit of fun with him, but that fucker...”

She sighs, plunging her shovel into the dirt again and I pause my picking, curious. “What?”

Larissa slams the shovel into the dirt and gives me a desperate look. “You know, I've had a lot of men, it's my fucking job. And some have had big dicks, some small, and a lot of the small dicked guys try and make up for it with foreplay and good skills. In fact, the best pussy eating I've ever gotten was from a guy with just an average dick. This guy. though... if I were his wife I would have killed him just out of frustration! His idea of foreplay was about twenty seconds of fumbling with my tits, he refused to go down on me, and when I decided to try and tease him up with a little cock sucking, the asshole blew his load down my throat in less than a minute! No wonder I literally jammed the poison in his ass!”

I can't help it, her obvious frustration and the image in my head of her stabbing a syringe into a Neo-Nazi's ass for some reason is absolutely hilarious, and I laugh. “I'm sorry Larissa, but the image... phew, I didn't know quite how lucky I've been.”

Larissa laughs, nodding. “Yeah. So if you tell me that you've hit the jackpot, I'm going to hate you just a little bit inside. Still like you, but hate you too.”

“Well.....” I say teasingly, fingering my collar, and Larissa laughs. “I can't say he's perfect. There's one thing we haven't done yet. But, last week Master tied me up and licked my pussy for an hour, and I came so many times I passed out. He punished me by taking away my clothes again and then fucking me after dinner in the dining room.”

Larissa blushes, then mutters under her breath in what I guess is Greek. “What's that?”

“I said 'Thessalonian bitches,' which is more or less the Greek equivalent of 'blondes get all the luck.' Most blonde women in Greece have roots around Thessaly,” Larissa says, then sighs half wistfully. “You sure that Rodrigo doesn't have another collar available?”

“Oh hell na...,” I start, then blush, looking down. “Master makes his own decisions.”

Larissa laughs again, and I join in, it feels good after the terror of the past few days. “Okay, well I'll just have to find my sexual release with someone else. And if you want, I'll be happy to give you some advanced training. Especially if you want to learn how to fight. Rodrigo is a good fighter, but women have to react different than men. Smaller bodies, less muscle, you know.”

“I understand,” I say, surprised when Larissa offers me her hand. “What's this?”

“Something I've never done before with a woman in your position. You might be Rodrigo's slave... but you're my friend. I like you too.”

I shake her hand, she's got a good strong grip, and we continue work. When Larissa leaves, I think about what we talked about. I wasn't shocked or repulsed by anything Larissa said. Well, I was shocked, but in a good way, she's so straightforward in the way she told me about her mission, and she's got a wicked sense of humor. When it came to her offer of friendship, I was more than eager to accept it, something that I would never have done even before she left on her assignment. It wasn't loneliness either, I think I genuinely like Larissa.

Thinking about liking Larissa, I know that back at Rutgers I would never have thought of becoming friends with her. The change is all in me. I wonder, how much am I changing?Am I anything at all like the woman who I was before? Then again, did I ever want to be that woman anyway? Doing chemistry and being a general standoffish bitch to every weak-willed wanna be Alpha who comes my way, my only joy in a relationship in seeing how much I can break him before I get tired of him? Aren't I happier being with Rodrigo, who pushes me to my limits and makes me stronger each and every day?

I take out what I'm going to make for my dinner and think. It takes me a while, in fact I'm washing up the dishes and drying them to put away before I make my decision. The fact is though, other than the specter of death and violence that exists outside this villa and is repped by the gun on the counter next to me.... I like who I am and what my life is now.

I've never been happier in my entire life.

Rodrigo

“Is that a blister on your finger?” I ask Larissa when she sits down at the cafe, our normal meeting spot. “Did Jessica get you to help her in the garden?”

“Without even asking,” Larissa says, looking at the pink and white spot on her thumb. “Ah well, it's out of the way, I can take care of it later. If I get creative, maybe I can needle Father Giacamo into thinking I got this from something that'll have him creaming his cassock. So... have you fallen for her yet?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, surprised at the sudden change in topics, and Larissa laughs. “What? You keep this shit up and I'm not paying the bill this time.”

“Come off it, Rodrigo. I saw the way you looked at her, and that kiss. You've got feelings for her,” Larissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “Very dangerous, especially considering the other problems in your life.”

“Like I don't know that,” I comment, refusing to agree with Larissa's accusation. “Considering I broke my own damn gate last night.”

“Hmmm.... you know what? Let's skip the cafe, just walk with me,” Larissa says, and I agree. We leave the cafe and Larissa goes over to my truck. “Up in the hills?”

We start off, and in the privacy of my truck Larissa finally opens up. “The Sultan isn't going to let this go, you know.”

“I figured. I'd hoped that by just taking care of his bitch boy that I'd be clear enough. I don't want this to come to a head between us,” I reply, lying. After all, that's exactly what I have been ordered to do, although if Larissa knew that and who ordered it, she's try and kill me herself. “It's a big fucking world. Even the Mediterranean is pretty damn big when you consider it all.”

“It is a big world Rodrigo, but the word I'm hearing is, The Sultan's got something personal with you. He's not going to let this go, especially because it seems he looking for proof on something.” We stop at the top of a hillock that overlooks the city, and I get out, sitting down on my tailgate. Larissa joins me, not sitting down but just leaning against the sidewall, watching me to see what my reaction is.

“Proof on what?” I ask finally after a minute, and Larissa shakes her head, even as a cold ball of fear starts to spread through my chest. There's only one thing that there could be proof on.

“I don't know. Something to back up why he doubts you, why he doesn't want you as the capo for North America. Before it was just professional I think, but after what you did to Leon, it's not just professional any more,” she says, sighing. “You better have eyes on both sides of your head.”

I nod, frustration building inside me. “Why are you telling me this?”

Larissa shrugs. “Two reasons. First, and the smaller one is, I offered your slave my friendship. The fact is, I like the woman. And keeping you alive keeps her safe and happy, whether you want to admit your feelings for her or not.”

“I don't....”

“Don't give me your bullshit right now, Rodrigo,” Larissa says, cutting me off. “I know how to read people, even better than they read themselves. But that's only a small reason. The fact is, I have a personal reason in this as well. If you and The Sultan do come to blood, I know who I want to remain standing afterwards, and that's you.”

“Why?”

Larissa goes quiet, and I wonder if she's going to answer, and when she does, her voice is quiet, different than anything I've ever heard before from her. I wish I could see her, but the moon is hidden by clouds, all I can see is her outline in the darkness. “How old were you when you first killed someone, Rodrigo?”

I think for a moment before answering. “Twenty four. I'd gotten into plenty of fights, shit goes down you know, but the first time I knew I killed someone? Twenty four. I was working a delivery for Scoglitti when the stupid mick who was supposed to take the shipment decided that instead of paying full price, he'd pull a gun on me. I was faster.”

“I was eleven,” Larissa says softly, her voice more emotional than I've ever heard before. “I've told you a little about my childhood in Greece, but for me, childhood ended when I was ten years old. That was the day that I was taken... and sold.”

“You were a slave?” I ask, and Larissa nods. “As a child?”

“The Network might be one of the biggest players around, but there are smaller operators who cater to... more extreme tastes,” Larissa says. “The man who stole me from my home, he sold me in the underground slave markets in Jeddah. The man who bought me was one of the richest men in Mecca actually, who made a lot of his money off of fleecing the annual Hajj pilgrims, charging obscene amounts of money for shit they didn't need. He kept me... and when I was eleven, I started puberty. He said that since I was now a woman, I would serve him as a woman.”

“You fought back,” I whisper, and Larissa nods. “How'd you get away?”

“His wife... well, one of them at least, took pity on me,” Larissa says. “She made it look like a suicide, and since I'd technically been adopted by the man, she sent me away on a legal note. It was all she could do, but it wasn't much of a mercy, it was just a one way ticket on the first flight out of Jeddah. I ended up having to become a street kid, and then worked my way up from there.”

“How'd you get into doing what you're doing then?” I ask suddenly, the echoes of Jessica's question months ago to me bouncing around in my head.

Larissa laughs bitterly. “As I grew into my teens, I figured out that I'm very good looking, Rodrigo. So I was a street kid with no money, no way to get a formal education, but with looks that had men offering me money to do most anything to them. And no matter where I went, it was the same. Berlin, Paris, London, Beijing, Sydney, it didn't matter. Men wanted to fuck me, and they would give me nearly anything to do it. So I learned what it took to survive, and then educated myself in the meantime. Before you ask, no, I don't like the slave trade even though it's part of our business. And I don't hate The Sultan because of his beliefs, despite the bastard who I killed being Muslim. I've met just as many bastards who pray to the cross as the crescent.”

“Me too,” I admit, thinking that when it comes to assholes, no religion has a monopoly. “So you deal with the parts you don't like?”

“Pretty much. But like I told Jessica, what we do, it's better than what some of the options are. Still, nobody in The Network seems to enjoy the slave trade as much as Omar Al Gazi. Of us all, he's the one I could see doing the same disgusting shit that led to me not having a childhood. At least the women we trade in now... at least they've had a chance to be little girls. I don't know if that makes it better or worse, but they at least got to be little girls.”

I nod, saddened and feeling even more trapped and frustrated. The fact is, if I could shut down the slave trade I would. I know it'd make me a hypocrite, Jessica always had a choice in her submission, if not the rest of her service. But I wasn't lying to Jessica when I said that it'd go on without me. It all would go on without me, which is the hardest truth of being Deep Cover.

“So you don't like The Sultan,” I finally say, dismissing my own guilty feelings. “Yet you like me. And I own a slave.”

Larissa laughs. “Rodrigo, if you weren't so damn deadly, you'd be sweet in a twisted way. I know you, and in talking with Jessica, you have always given her the choice. About the only thing you didn't give her a choice in was in actually being your slave. I bet if she'd been stubborn enough, you'd have kept her in that downstairs cell, well fed and well cared for this whole time.”

I chuckle, she's right. “You know me pretty well, Larissa.”

“Which is why I'm on your side in this. Oh, don't doubt it, there's something in it for me, too. If The Sultan meets his end, I've got my own contacts in Israel and some of the more Western friendly countries in the Mideast. Nobody would be better positioned in The Network to keep up the flow of trade to there. I'm so ready to get out of the whole fuck 'em and then kill 'em trade. Don't mind the information brokering so much, but seriously... you watch your ass, Rodrigo.”

* * *

It's nearly ten thirty when I get home, Jessica letting me in and I see the pistol next to her thigh as I drive by, just increasing the frustration that I'm feeling. I know there's nothing I can do about it, and getting out of my truck, Jessica can see my feelings. “What's wrong, Master?” she asks, her gray eyes searching my face. “Bad news?”

“Nothing I didn't already know, and nothing I can do anything about,” I grumble. “Which just frustrates the hell out of me.”

“Is there anything I can do?” she asks. “Anything?”

I think, and a wonderful, silly idea comes to my mind. “Yeah... let's play a game.”

“A game?” she asks, perplexed but interested. “What is it?”

“Hide and seek,” I say, chuckling when Jessica gives me a raised eyebrow. “Oh, there's going to be stakes in this game. Sexual stakes.”

“Really?” Jessica asks, a small smile spreading on her naughtily angelic face. “And what would those be?”

“I give you a ten minute head start, where I'll stay in the training room. You can hide anywhere within the walls of the villa. After those ten minutes, I have a twenty minutes to catch you. If I do... I'm going to be rough. If I don't, I'll be gentle.”

“I see,” Jessica says, crossing her arms. She bites her lip, then leans in and kisses me on the lips. “See you in thirty one minutes, Master.”

Jessica takes off into the darkness, which in the countryside on a cloudy night is nearly complete. I shake my head, going into the training room where I think about what Larissa said. Am I getting real feelings for Jessica? I don't know. I do know that her amazing body and even more amazing mind drives me wild, and that I want her more now than ever. Even thinking about the hunt and the fun we're going to have has me hard in my pants, and as I count down the time on my watch, I still think about Larissa's comment.

Do I have feelings for Jessica?

Does it matter? She's mine either way, and we have fun together.

My watch beeps, and I leave the training room, going out into the darkness. I listen carefully, not feeling that upset that Jessica doesn't know that I've had FBI training plus more. Going through night recon training with the Marines is no fucking joke, and I can hear most of the roughly one acre space that makes up the walled portion of my villa. It helps, I can move through the space quickly if quietly, listening for any of the telltale sounds that a person in hiding makes. There's nothing though, and either Jessica's a ninja or she's not outside the house.

I go into the first floor, checking my watch, I've got eight minutes left. Plenty of time, as long as Jessica doesn't do something silly like jump from a window. I don't want her to, so I move through the first floor carefully, checking each room quietly. I pause, looking in her first room, remembering Larissa's comment that even if Jessica had refused everything I'd have kept her fed and taken care of. She's right, I would have. Maybe I am a hypocrite, but it's enough of a distinction that I can sleep peacefully over it.

The first floor's empty with five minutes left, so I climb the stairs quickly, checking my living room before going through to the kitchen. I find Larissa's pistol on the counter, I'll have to remind her it isn't safe to do that even when I'm home, and then I move on. The pantry, Jessica's bedroom, and I've got less than one minute left when I move into my bedroom. There's unfortunately a lot of spaces here, and part of me is tempted to let her ride out the time when I hear a shuffle and a giggle from behind me, and I go into my bathroom, finding her hiding in the shower. “Gotcha.”

“Aww.... and I only had how much time left?” Jessica asks in a mock disappointed voice. My watch beeps, and she giggles again. “I win.”

“What?” I ask, surprised, and Jessica crosses her arms and grins.

“You said if you caught me. You haven't caught me yet, you haven't put those strong, sexy hands on me before the time was up. Now Master, do we need to take this to the Hide n' Seek Supreme Court?” she asks, and I have to admit, she's got a point.

“Are you a chemist or a lawyer?” I ask, laughing. Did I say her mind turns me on? Her mind is the sexiest thing about her, which considering her body, means I'm surprised I don't have a constant stiffie. Jessica reaches for her shirt and starts unbuttoning it, revealing her remarkable, sexy cleavage in one of her newer bras that I bought her. Okay, her body and mind are maybe a tie. “Ah, distracting me now?”

“No Master,” Jessica says, her fingers still unbuttoning. “But I was thinking... let's call it a draw, and you can be a little rough right here in the shower?”

Her fingers reach her waist and she pulls her shirt open other than the knot that she used to tie it off around her waist, revealing the bountiful curves of her breasts, making me hum happily. She's curvier than a classic pinup model, and with her lips twitching in a smile, she's seductive and one of a kind. Still, I have to maintain some image of control. “I don't know... what if I want to take you to the training room instead?”

“Please Master?” Jessica pleads, coming closer and putting her hands on my shoulders. “I had a naughty thought today, and I was kind of hoping... well, the shower would be better for it.”

“What's that?” I ask, and Jessica stands on her tiptoes to whisper in my ear.

“Please Master... I want you to fuck my ass. I'm begging you.”

I grin, pulling her into an embrace and reaching down, grabbing the twin handfuls of her ass and kneading. “So... you're just giving me your ass cherry? You know I can't turn you down when you beg.”

“I'm all yours Master,” Jessica moans, leaning her head back and showing me her collar as well as the enticing valley between her breasts. “And the shower would be cleaner... more relaxing.”

“It'll still hurt,” I warn her as I lean down and suck on the curve of her neck, kissing along the hollow of her throat as I half squat to tug at her leggings. God bless yoga pants as the smooth skin of her ass is soon revealed to me, and I stand back, both of us breathing hard.

“I know it'll hurt Master,” Jessica says, unknotting her shirt and peeling it the rest of the way off along with her bra before stripping her leggings off. “But with you, it always the good hurt.”

Jessica gets in the shower and turns the water on while I strip, the water glistening off her skin like diamonds even when I open the door. She takes the handheld sprayer down and playfully squirts me with it, her eyes laughing before I take it from her and kiss her hard, our tongues immediately dueling around each other in twisting, writhing patterns even while I press her against the glass wall, squeezing her ass and making her moan deeply into my mouth again.

“It'll hurt, but it'll feel good too the way I'm going to do it,” I promise her. “Turn around.”

Jessica immediately obeys, bending over slightly and pushing her ass back towards me. If she weren't a virgin I'd want to take her asshole right now, but the first time... she deserves gentleness. I massage her instead, squeezing roughly on the outsides but more gently as my right hand moves towards the center. Jessica gasps when my fingers brush over her tight puckered hole and I rub. “Master.... oh that doesn't hurt at all....”

“Take a deep breath and relax,” I command as I slip a finger inside, watching her face tighten before she remembers her training and opens up more, my finger slipping deeper. I finger fuck her asshole slowly, Jessica bending over more to loosen herself up more before I add a second finger. She whimpers in pain, but doesn't say anything as my fingers pump in and out of her tight asshole, the water helping to relax her ring. “Does it still hurt?”

“A little Master... but it's good too,” Jessica gasps. “Can I rub my clit?”

“I encourage it,” I chuckle, watching as Jessica reaches down and starts rubbing. She relaxes more as the dual sensations mix, the pain being carried away the way it's supposed to, and soon both of my fingers are plunging in and out of her ass easily. “Very good, my pet. Next is my cock.”

“Master... yessss...” Jessica groans, her fingers still rubbing her pussy and clit while I line up. “Thank you Master.”

Words jump to my mind but I don't let them out, and instead line my cock up with the winking pucker of her asshole. It's hard at first, but Jessica pushes back, opening her ass as best she can, and the sight of my cockhead disappearing into her ass is so erotic that I'm stunned at the gift this beautiful woman is giving me.

Entering Jessica's ass for the first time is like nothing I've ever felt before. Around her ring she's almost painfully, impossibly tight, but as my cock breaches her most tender of inner secrets the rest of her is a warm softness that is better than any other ass I've ever felt. I go slow, short soft strokes that gently open this angel up to my total deflowerment, and when my hips touch the smooth globes of her asscheeks the pain's gone for her, leaving nothing but the pleasure of being taken totally and fully. “Master...”

“Hold on,” I groan, pulling back before stroking in fully. We both gasp, I can't help it she's so amazing and the sensations running from my cock through my body are almost unbelievably good. We fall into a good pace, my hips taking their time guiding my cock in and out, filling my pet over and over. Jessica's lost, her nipples tight when I reach around and stroke them, nearly coming as I show her the deep, intimate pleasures of assfucking.

“Oh fuck... fuck... fuck me... yes Master,” Jessica groans, her brain being overloaded with the sensations. I speed up, her eyes flying open at the feeling of my cock pounding her tender, precious ass, my hips smacking into her voluptuous curves. “Master! Oh fuck I love it!”

“Take it all, that's it,” I encourage, getting rougher as her body relaxes and she can take it. Jessica's one of a kind body responds as we go faster and faster, my cock riding her tight ass and both of us finding total pleasure and abandonment in the feeling. I speed up more, my balls boiling to unleash within her tight bowels, and she grunts, both of us losing the ability to speak as we get closer and closer.

Jessica comes first, her ass clamping around the base of my cock as she screams, the water spraying unfelt into her face as I plunge one more time before joining her, coming deep and hard into her ass. We freeze, both of us wanting this moment to last forever, and I make a decision that I know can change my life from this moment on. Actually, it's not even a decision, it's more like just knowing something, the knowledge exploding in my head as powerfully as my orgasm.

Regardless of what it takes, no matter else... I have to have Jessica with me.

Jessica

“Master....” I half whisper, looking out at the turquoise blue water that laps at the brown sugar sand. “This is beautiful.”

“Welcome to Cefalu,” Rodrigo says, looking amazingly dapper in the classic sport coat and cream colored slacks combination. He's even wearing an ascot, of all things, and I feel classy and pampered in my sleeveless blouse with pants and sandals next to him. “I thought you could use some time away from the villa, and today's a nice day to just enjoy some fresh air.”

“Thank you,” I reply, looking out on the beach. There's a few bathers, Sicily is one of those islands where you can pretty much go some beaches all year around, but it's not crowded at this time of year yet. The Spring Break holidays are still a little ways off. “So what did you want to do?”

“Oh, I don't know, just walk around for a little while, enjoy the town was my idea. Is there anything that you'd like to particularly do?” he asks. “There's some stuff I'd like to discuss with you, but for now, let's enjoy the morning.”

“Can I take off my sandals and splash in the water some?” I ask, and he nods, smiling that Rodrigo smile that starts up the butterflies in my stomach even as I run gleefully down to the water's edge before stopping to take off my sandals. I turn to see Rodrigo close behind, his hand held out to take my footwear. I hand them to him, surprised after I roll up my pant legs that he's joined me, his slacks rolled almost to the knee and his docksiders in his hand. I splash and enjoy the feeling, fond memories coming over me as we walk in the wet, compacted sand.

“You went to the beach a lot as a kid, didn't you?” Rodrigo asks warmly. Before I can answer, I see a couple walking along the other direction. I feel proud of being with Rodrigo, but something bothers me. With the couple, they're holding hands, the woman leaning on her lover's arm and for all the world looking 'lovey-dovey.' While I feel close to Rodrigo, I suspect that the couple we just passed wouldn't do nearly as much for each other as I would for him, there's a sense of public intimacy that we just don't have.

Rodrigo notices, looking over. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing, Master.”

Rodrigo stops, reaching out and taking my hand. “You're lying, Jessica. Don't lie to me please.”

I stop, turning to look at him. “I'm sorry Master. It's just... see that couple behind us?”

Rodrigo glances, nodding. “Yeah, I noticed them. Why?”

“I guess... this sounds so stupid,” I reply, sighing. “Master, I'd do anything for you. Probably more than that woman would do for her boyfriend. You know that, right?”

“I know,” Rodrigo says. “And I've promised to keep you safe, to take care of you, to give you everything you've ever dreamed of. Have I not?”

“In some ways, you've given me more than I could ever dream of. But...,” I reply, then sigh. “I guess the girly side of me would like to hold your hand, to lean on you and be like they are in some ways.”

Rodrigo smiles softly, looking at me with his dark eyes. “You know what the difference between them and us is, Jessica?”

“No, Master. What?” I ask, and Rodrigo points towards the rocks up ahead. “The rocks?”

“Those rocks, they're above a series of whirlpools, tidal pools that are very dangerous. There's signs all around the place that tell people not to go in them, and every summer, at least one or two people die because they either don't listen or fall in while trying to take pictures,” he says. “Jessica, the difference between us is that you would willingly leap into those pools with a rock in your arms if I ordered you to. At the same time, I would willingly leap into those pools if I saw you fall in without my orders. Those two wouldn't do the same for each other. That's better than any hand holding.”

“I guess,” I sigh, still feeling sad for some reason on the inside. “I apologize, Master.”

Rodrigo looks at me some more, then starts off again. For the rest of the morning until the sun is high in the sky we enjoy the beach, and as we walk, play, and just relax, my spirit lifts. After a lunch in a streetside cafe, we drive to Termini Imirese, where for the first time in months I get to walk around a mall, Rodrigo ditching his sportcoat and ascot before we go inside. We find a little gelateria, the Italian style ice cream shop that puts anything I had in New Jersey to shame, where he gets us a classic sundae to split.

“Master, why did you bring me here today?” I ask as he passes me the single plastic spoon. Considering the amount of bodily fluids we swap on nearly a daily basis, a little bit of shared silverware is nothing. “Thank you, by the way.”

Rodrigo takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Not here. When we get back to the truck, I'll tell you on the way home. This isn't a conversation for public ears.”

We continue shopping, Rodrigo letting me pick out a few items, and I'm shocked when he comes out of a lingerie store with a package under his arm. “A gift for both of us. We can open it at home.”

We go out to the parking lot, where once inside, I look at him as he starts up the truck and pulls out into traffic. “Well?”

Rodrigo glances over, his smirk faltering as he knows he's been keeping me waiting for hours, and even my patience is growing thin. “I thought about a few things in talking with Larissa, and since that bastard Leon threatened you,” Rodrigo says, his voice calm. “First, let me fill you in on a few things. For quite a while now, the man that you know as The Sultan and I have had a quiet rivalry. He's been the biggest hurdle to me getting promoted to capo. The other heads, they're worried about insulting such a major part of The Network, and for good reason, the Mideast arms and human trade is a big part of our income. Not the biggest, but a damn big part. Still, since I bought you, that rivalry has grown from quiet to just short of outright war.”

“A civil war?” I ask, and Rodrigo laughs. “What?”

“Wars within The Network are hardly civil, although I thought about it in the same terms. I was hoping to neutralize The Sultan through manipulation of the other capos, but The Sultan... well, Larissa says that The Sultan claims to have information that makes me look bad. She suspects that he's going to use that to either derail my promotion or worse. I'm pretty sure he'll be coming for my head, especially after what I did to Leon. If that happens, there's going to be blood on one side or another,” Rodrigo says softly as we come to a stop at a traffic light. “If that's the case Jessica, I need to know two things. One, that you can handle yourself. Second, that if shit does hit the fan and I buy the fucking farm, that you'll be able to keep yourself safe. Larissa likes you, she told me herself, but I can't be sure she'll be able to protect you if The Sultan kills me. I need to know that you'd be able to get out, to get to safety, even if it's just to the American consulate in Palermo.”

The traffic light changes, and we turn right onto the road that heads back towards Caccamo. Rodrigo waits for me to respond, and it takes me a minute. “So today was just a test, not a day out together?”

“It was both,” Rodrigo replies. “Jessica, I enjoyed walking on the sand with you, eating that sundae, and I'm looking forward to seeing you open up your present. But yes, I wanted to make sure that you can still get along in public if you need to. I couldn't be sure you hadn't turned into some sort of agoraphobe over the past few months. Keeping you cooped up makes you a liability, not an asset. And you can be the most valuable asset I have.”

“Asset,” I whisper, looking down. Just an asset... nothing more. It hurts.

Rodrigo glances over, saying nothing as we drive the twenty minutes back towards Caccamo, pulling off the paved road and heading back towards the villa. We left the villa gate open leaving this morning, and Rodrigo pulls in, hopping out and closing it behind us before getting in and clearing his throat. “There's something more I want to ask you.”

“What?” I ask, looking over, my hands twisting in my lap.

“I fully expect to win against The Sultan. I have a few aces in the hole that he won't expect or can prepare for,” Rodrigo says. “But if it doesn't, I might have to run. That could take me anywhere in the world. Jessica... if that happens, I want you with me.”

“With you, Master?” I ask, confused. “You mean?”

“I mean that I need to know if you want to come to America with me. Jessica, I know that I'm not the sort to be lovey-dovey like you mentioned, but I have never broken my word to you. I have taken care of you, and I swear I will always take care of you, but to continue to do so, I may have to ask you to do things that I didn't want to. Some of those skills that I said you'd never have to learn... I may have to ask you to learn.”

“And if I say no?” I ask.

Rodrigo looks disappointed, and looks at me with something in his eyes that I hope I'm not just imagining. “I'd be very deeply hurt. But if you insisted, I would free you, or if you want you'd stay here as my housekeeper. You'd be cared for either way. But you'd be better to me by my side.”

I look into Rodrigo's dark eyes, and I wonder if I'm seeing something there that is just my imagination, or is there something more. Finally, I clear my throat and look at him. “Are you asking as Rodrigo, or as Master? Do I have a choice?”

Rodrigo gives me a relieved smile, shaking his head. I think he was worried I'd demand my freedom. “Oh my beautiful Jessica, you've always had a choice. Each and every day, from the first time you called me Master, the choice has always been yours. Each day you've stayed since I didn't lock you in, you've made a choice. Since then, there's been a hundred times you could have slipped a kitchen knife between my ribs, and in the past week you could have shot me a dozen times over. So yes, you have a choice. You always have... and with me, you always will.”

Rodrigo gets out of the truck, closing the door and heading towards the steps to the villa. My mind whirls, and suddenly I'm out of the passenger side of the truck, slamming the door and running up to him. “Master.... Rodrigo, wait!”

Rodrigo stops, turning on the third step from the top, his face clear and bright and I make my choice. It's not that hard, when I think about it. “Yes, Jessica?”

“I know my choice, but I need something from you,” I say, reaching up and taking his hand. “I need.... I need to know that I'm strong enough.”

“And how would you like me to show you how strong you are?” he asks, turning the rest of the way around and sitting down on the steps so that we're eye to eye. “I know you are, but you have something else on your mind.”

I nod, pointing towards the warehouse. “Master, I need to be pushed further than you've ever pushed me before. You told me, and I believe it. In my weakness, my submission, I've found strength that I never knew existed inside me. But I need more. I need to know... I want you to push me all the way to the edge.”

Rodrigo's face grows very grave, and he studies me. “You realize what that means, right? The risks can be very high. No limits, no safe words... I don't do edge 'play' like most people think of it. If we do this, we walk a very dangerous tightrope with no net.”

I nod, squeezing his fingers. “I know Master. But that's something else that I've discovered in our time together, in our training. You said today that if you ordered me to, I'd have jumped into those tidal pools with a big rock in my arms. There's a reason why I would. Because I'm one hundred percent confident that if I step off, that somehow, some way, you'd catch me and save me before I drown. I trust you with my very life Master. So... let's walk that tightrope. I know you won't let me fall.”

Rodrigo nods, reaching for and stroking my collar. “You are a one of a kind woman, Jessica. Let's go.”

* * *

My fingers tremble as Master ties the silk rope around my left knee, bringing it to my neck, his eyes dark and dangerous. I'm sitting up now, but that won't be for long, once he rolls me back. I bend my head forward, and feel a moment of shock and loss when Master undoes my collar, and I whimper.

“I don't want this damaged,” he explains as he sets it aside. “You'll get it back afterwards. Keep your head down.”

I take a deep breath and lower my head, feeling the rope go behind my neck before Master draws it across my throat, wrapping me fully before tying my right knee. There's a little space, but not much, a quarter to half inch at most, and as Master rolls me onto my back, that space is eliminated. I pull on my knees with my hands to try and give myself some more help, but Master grabs my right hand and pulls it free, pinning it to the bed before tying it off with the scarf that he's already secured before doing the same with my left. I'm trapped, totally and completely helpless in a rig that can easily kill me, with no safe word.

If I don't keep perfect control of my back and my already stretched hips, the fact is that I'm going to choke myself to death. The only other release I have is if Master cuts the cord, freeing me as I can't free myself. Some people, most people would say that I'm insane, but they don't see what I see as Master looks into my eyes, the feelings that echo my own desire. “One more thing, and then we can start your pleasure.”

“Yes Master,” I whisper, swallowing away my fear, which is melting as Master caresses my face. “I'm yours.”

Master goes and comes back with the blindfold, slipping it over my eyes. I'm immediately plunged into darkness, not able to even anticipate what Master's going to do. I have to submit, to find my strength in this weak position, and Master will help me.

The first thing I feel is tickling, the gentle caress of Master's feather tickler on my toes and feet, making me giggle, the torture continuing up the back of my legs and then over my exposed ass and pussy. The first feather light stroke over my pussy sends heat through me, and I lick my lips, wanting more. “Mmmm... Master, I love it.”

“Just wait,” Master whispers, his voice trembling as he continues the soft assault on my pussy. I'm quickly gasping, groaning as he strokes over my legs and pussy with the tickler, not enough to bring me close to coming but just leaking, my juices dribbling from my sopping wet slit to drip down my ass. “I wonder how long I can keep you here. Two hours? Four? A day?”

“As long as you want, Master,” I moan, knowing that it's not true but not caring. The truth is what I say next. “I'm yours.”

The tickling stops and I feel Master's lips kiss my pussy, sending a hot jolt through my body as his tongue snakes deep into me, licking my wet walls before he flicks his tongue over my clit. My hips jerk, and all the slack in my neck disappears for an instant, cutting off my breath and and I have to force myself to focus, pulling my legs back more. The pressure lets up, but not a lot, and I'm reminded of the danger of this.

Master stops though, and the next thing I feel is his finger sliding underneath the cord around my neck, loosening the wrap before withdrawing. “Next time I won't be so kind.”

“I... I know Master,” I whisper, my chest burning as the muscles combine with the heat inside me and the emotions that are flooding me. Master gets off the bed and silently disappears, but I hear something scrape off the wood of the toy shelf, and then a whirring sound I've never heard before. It's cyclical, throbbing, and even hearing it fills me with desire and with dread. “Master?”

“Trust,” he rumbles, and I feel the cool touch of metal on my pussy. The device, it's obviously some sort of vibrator, throbs again, pain and pleasure both coming from the device. I realize what it is, an electrical stimulator, and my heart clenches in fear and wanton need. I've never felt one of these, just heard of them. I didn't even know Master had one in here, this is the only room I don't clean in the villa. “Open your ass.”

The stimulator slides in, I'm so wet that even my ass is soaked, and the first deep electrical throb as it slides in before my ass clenches around the neck of the butt plug has my eyes rolling back in my head behind my blindfold. “Master....”

“Now for me,” he says, and I feel his hands on my knees. My Master, the man who has taken me to places I would have never imagined, and he's taking care of me, holding my knees safely while his thick cock slides into me, filling me in both holes. It's wonderful, perfect, and my body, heart and soul cry out in joy as Master leans in and kisses me, our tongues stroking each other even as Master's hips pull back and he drives his cock into me. I'm still helpless, all I want to do is touch his face, to stroke his back, but I can't, and it breaks my heart.

What happens next I didn't think was possible. Sadness, pain, joy and pleasure all combine as Master fucks me, his cock filling me over and over again. The emotions build with the sensations, my body wracked with spasms even before I'm close to coming, and behind my blindfold I'm crying, sobbing uncontrollably as Master drives me further than I've ever been before. Fear drops away, I don't care if I die right now, I have my Master, I am strong, and I am complete.

The first trembles of my body reaching its limit start in my pussy, which clenches and squeezes Master's throbbing cock even as his breath speeds up and he begins to grunt while he fucks me harder and harder.

“Mine... mine... mine,” he grunts in between strokes, my pussy overloaded and my body starting to shut down. I'm going to come, I know it, and then I explode, his words echoing in my head as blackness overwhelms me. I go... somewhere else, I don't know where, but in this place I feel pure strength, pure happiness... and an emotion that I didn't think would ever exist, not for someone like me. I'm dimly aware of Master groaning and his coming, but I'm unable to do much more than breathe.

I know I'm alive. That I can be sure of, but I can't be sure of much else as the light takes over and I lose all track of time. I'm totally out of control, but at the same time I'm fine with it, I know that Master has me.

In this warm, light space, I think about him. My Master, my Rodrigo. He talked about The Sultan, and we've mentioned the idea of him becoming capo. The fact is... I don't want to lose him. It's not just the sex.

Glad you finally came to that fucking realization.

I wondered when you were going to show up. Have you been here the whole time?

I've been here your whole life. The part that sucks is that I kinda only get to watch and feel the sex secondhand. Not nice, you greedy bitch.

So... just what the fuck are you, anyway? My conscience?

Do I sound like Jiminy Cricket? No. I'm the woman you want to be.

Then why have I only started hearing you since I came to this house?

For years you ignored me, so I had to talk to you subtly. Now you're listening. Pretty soon though, there won't be anything to listen to.

Because we're going to be the same woman.

Exactly. And they say talking to yourself is the sign of a crazy person.

If I am crazy... I like this crazy. So why can I still hear you now?

Because there's one more level that you need to get through. You need to admit how you feel about Rodrigo. To him.

Master? I want to go with him. I want to stay by his side forever. If that means going to the USA and being a slave under a fake name.... well, Jessica Prince had a pretty good run. I'm more than that now.

Sounds like a lot of talk to describe something that can be summed up in one word. Let's summarize, you've admitted that you want to honor, to obey him, good times, bad.... see where I'm going here?

Yeah. I do. But I can't say it without knowing if he wants me to go with him. If he asks me... I'll follow him to the ninth circle of hell if he asks me.

I'm pretty damn sure he feels the same way about you. But that's cool. When you get here, I'll be waiting. In the meantime... keep him safe. I want my chance to be with him fully too, you know. Wonder how he feels about candle wax?

Kinky little slut, aren't you?

Yes we are.

Rodrigo

“Zio, Nikolai, it was surprising to get your call this morning. Especially to meet both of you at your villa, Nikolai,” I say, my mind mostly here, but part of me back at home, wanting to take care of Jessica. After last night, the intense convulsions she went into after we were done, she needs recovery, and to be pulled away to deal with Network politics is not what I want. It wasn't the lack of blood either, I watched her neck and checked in afterwards, there were no rope marks there. She just.... she was pushed to her limits. It was only after midnight that I felt she was safe and held her the rest of the night, her head cradled in my lap in bed.

“Considering what we've heard, Rodrigo, I felt it important to take the risk,” Rachmaninoff says, his voice guarded but still more trusting of me than not. My work is paying dividends in that regard at least. “The Sultan says he has evidence that you've been backstabbing him.”

“If he has it, let him present it,” I reply. “I think he's just still frustrated that I took out his bitch boy so easily. Makes me wonder if perhaps Leon was doing more than errands for Al Gazi.”

Scoglitti chuckles, still my supporter. He's old school to the core, and for him, the idea of The Sultan fucking Leon fits right in with his prejudices, and he's got a lot of them. Me personally, I don't care who The Sultan fucks, but it helps keep them on my side. “It would fit, wouldn't it? But on a more serious note Rodrigo, the timing of the issues between you and The Sultan could not have come at a worse time. Europe is going through political upheaval, even North America is transitioning, and Asia... well, it is my opinion that market's going to be quite difficult in the next decade. The Chinese always respond to problems by cutting themselves off, erecting walls. The Japs are going to implode, and the Koreans... those fucks have always been crazy.”

“It doesn't matter,” Rachmaninoff says, chuckling. “There's a very old Russian mob proverb. The bad wolf gets fat in winter, and lean in summer.”

“I don't understand, Nikolai,” I interject, sitting forward. It could pay to butter up Rachmaninoff a little right now, and besides, he's a good story teller. “Explain please?”

Nikolai sips his coffee and brushes a speck of dust off the lapel of his suit coat before stroking his beard. “Russian history, Rodrigo. During the Revolution, millions died, the czar fell, and men like us thrived, taking the reins of power. We gained a tighter hold during Stalin's purges. And after the Soviets fell, we worked behind the scenes, and look what we have now? I could have nearly anything I want in Russia, and I do. Rodrigo, men in our profession do best when things look like shit. All this upheaval that my friend Scoglitti mentions, I see them as opportunities. Opportunities for men like us to work our way into the back rooms of power. Where we make mistakes is when we start trying to step out of the winter's shadows and into the summer's light, to legitimize our power. Who the fuck needs legitimacy? Legitimacy is what got Gorby out on his ass and Anastasia with a bullet in her fucking head. Give me illegitimate power any day of the week.”

It's chilling, but there's a sense of logic to what Rachmaninoff says. It's not that hard to force a smile, even if I think he's wrong. “Thank you for the lesson, Nikolai.”

“I will politely disagree with my friend,” Scoglitti says, chuckling. “The Soviet Union fell in seventy years. Rome lasted a millenia. But this is an argument that the two of us have had that stretches back what, nearly twenty years now Nikolai?”

“Something like that. I doubt we'll ever see eye to eye on it. Still, I do agree with you that this internal matter with The Sultan is not a good one.”

“I'm willing to back Rodrigo in North America,” Scoglitti says, giving me a thrill. “He's the man we need to handle things there. What do you say, Rodrigo?”

It's the opportunity that I've been waiting for, both the FBI agent side of me and the other side of me. Still, I have my orders, The Sultan comes first. “I'm highly honored by your support, zio. Nikolai, are you of the same mind?”

“I am. The Network is not, if anything, flexible. And you'd be working shipments with your current capo anyway. Al Gazi has no contacts in North America.”

I shrug, and take a sip of my own coffee to decide how I want to reply. “I can work with whoever The Network needs me to. Gentlemen, I appreciate the offer, both of you are truly men of honor. However, it would be better if I was able to settle things between me and The Sultan before we go on with plans about my going to North America.”

“And by settle you mean?” Scoglitti asks, and I lift an eyebrow.

“Settle,” I repeat, causing Rachmaninoff to chuckle icily at my implied threat. Maybe it's his Russian background, but Rachmaninoff always has been a cold blooded man. “Excellent coffee, zio. Thank you, and thank you for your support.”

Scoglitti also looks pleased, I think he just wants a resolution to this situation either way, and reaches out to the table, taking a canoli. “Well, if you are going to settle things with The Sultan, you might want to hurry. He won't be in Sicily for much longer. I got word from The Farm, the final preparations for the weapons shipment start tonight.”

I nod, filing the information away. “Then perhaps I need to visit The Farm and see if I can talk to The Sultan face to face. With Leon out of the way, I'm sure he's taking a more personal interest in his work. Who knows, maybe that's why he's pissed off at me? Nobody likes doing more work. Excuse me please gentlemen.”

I give Rachmaninoff and Scoglitti a respectful nod and depart, getting in my truck to hurry to The Farm. My boss' information was correct, when I get there the shipment is already being loaded on the trucks for taking to the port in Termini. “How much longer?”

“Why the fuck do you care?” the man in charge, apparently The Sultan isn't going to oversee this side of the loading, he's probably more worried about his boat still. “The boss said not to get you near any of this!”

“Because we've got some new shit coming in for my boss!” I yell back. “Considering what I did to Leon the dickless wonder, do you really want to start shit with me on this?”

“Fine, fine,” the lackey in charge says, coming over and lowering his voice. “My boss said that he wants this all loaded up by this afternoon, we're unloading at the boat after that.”

“You guys are heading out tonight?” I ask, and the thug nods. “Fast load. You able to handle it? I can lend a hand. My beef was with Leon, not you guys.”

“No, boss' orders. But thanks,” the guy says, softening a little. He understands, sometimes shit just happens in this line of work. “It fucking sucks, but that's what the boss ordered, we load hard and fast. We leave port tonight by midnight so we can make the fucking Suez early in the morning. Which means that we're busting our backs for the rest of the day.”

“I hear that, man. I had to heave a few crates around when I was getting started with Scoglitti. Best of luck. We don't need the building until tomorrow morning, so I guess we're cool. Take care.”

The Sultan's man gives me a nod and turns back to his work while I retreat to my truck. Once inside I drive into the hills, pulling out my phone. This isn't something that can be handled via text message.

“Yo,” my contact says, always casual until I've identified myself properly. Security.

“Wassup? How's your sister? Julia said she wanted me to call. Something about her boyfriend, Antonio?”

Security completed, my contact shifts into a professional tone. “I didn't expect a call from you, Campo. What's wrong?”

“The Sultan's weapons shipment is leaving the docks tonight at midnight. He's going to be on it. They're going through the Suez Canal.”

“The the US Navy is just going to have to do some maneuvers in the international waters in the area,” my contact says. “And we can make sure a couple of ships from the Ike's carrier group are on the other side just in case. Can you get it on your side?”

“The Sultan suspects me, he's ghosting right now, probably hiding on the boat. No way I can take him out unless I just get lucky.”

“Do what you can. I'll coordinate with other agencies on our side, see what we can do.”

“Note, there might be a crate of Claymores on board that I daisy chained to a cell phone trigger. Don't know if you can get signal to it though. The number's 255-743-8905,” I reply, glad that at least a few area codes are reserved for clandestine use. I don't need someone calling their grandmother and accidentally blowing up the boat.

“Understood. Your orders still stand, if you get the chance, Omar Al Gazi is greenlit to be neutralized. Good work, Campo. Sorry about the blow up last time.”

“Shit happens. Will update you later. Campo out.”

I hang up my phone, setting it down and wondering what to do next. It's almost sunset, I need to stop at home and see how Jessica's doing, then plan my next move.

I might have work tonight.

Jessica

“You look like hell.”

“I feel like heaven though,” I grunt, pivoting and throwing an elbow at the pad Larissa's holding. We're in the hills above the villa, and it feels thrilling to be training with my friend out in the open beyond the walls of the villa. We met up here, me jogging up and finding her here, already prepared for our first 'advanced training session.' “Last night changed me.”

“I can tell,” she says, moving the small target. “So how rough was he?”

“We took it to the edge,” I reply honestly, feeling comfortable talking with Larissa about it. She's probably done as much if not more, and she never judges. If anything, I think she understands and I know she likes the same things I do. “Bound, rope around my neck, electrostim... it was intense.”

“And you're still walking?” Larissa says, half amazed. “Last time I tried using electrostim on myself, I spent the next day curled up in bed drinking ouzo and eating baklava.”

“It was an electrostim butt plug,” I add proudly, throwing a kick. My words stun Larissa though and her hand relaxes, the pad falling away just in time for my foot to connect squarely with her thigh. “Oooh! Sorry. You okay?”

“You took an electrostim plug and liked it?” Larissa asks. She rubs her leg, still looking shocked. “I should bow down to you, nobody's ever pushed me that far. What was it like?”

“Hurt like hell at first,” I reply with a laugh before growing serious. “But then, the good feelings started in too, and... have you ever taken any of the drugs you guys ship, Larissa?”

Larissa shakes her head, a little touch of disgust crossing her face. “No. I don't need the weak release of drugs. Why, have you?”

I chuckle, shaking my head back and forth. “No, but as part of one of my Master's degree classes we went into the whole chemistry behind drugs, and that included a trip to a rehab center. One of the people I talked to, they were heavy into the psychedelics, mescaline, peyote, shit like that. He described a good trip like transcending the world, going to a higher, better place. When I felt Master come inside me Larissa, it pushed me to that plane. It was like going to a whole different world.”

Larissa swallows, and I can see in her eyes that she's slightly jealous, and maybe a little sad at the same time, but also proud of me. “I can no longer be your teacher in the sensual arts, Jessica. You have far surpassed me.”

I reach out, taking her hand and clasping it to my chest. “No, my friend. I would never have been able to be there for my Master if it weren't for you. You will always be my teacher... and my friend.”

Larissa smiles, her hand twitching. “Is that all it takes to cop a feel of your boobs?”

I laugh, letting her hand go and step back. “Something like that.”

“So have you said it to him?” Larissa asks, and I raise an eyebrow. “You know exactly what I mean. That you love him.”

Love. I haven't heard that word from Larissa or Rodrigo ever, other than in casual use that could mean 'really like.' I love cheese, I'd love a back rub, stuff like that. But the way Larissa's saying it....

“That's pretty difficult, Larissa. I'm a slave, he's my Master. Just because I'm happy that way...”

“You Americans are so full of shit,” Larissa says with a harsh laugh. “It's because your fucking English is so limited. You throw around the word love almost as much as you use the word fuck. We Greeks do it better. In Ancient Greek, there's four words that you translate as love, you know that?”

“A little,” I admit. “I took French though in school though.”

“What you and I feel, that's philia, the love between friends and equals. And yes, I consider you my equal Jessica. What you first had for Rodrigo, eros. You can guess what that means,” she says, her lips twitching. “You and I, we're experts in eros, although yours is naturally light while mine can be quite dark.”

“In other words, he made me horny as hell and I loved getting fucked by him,” I say ironically, and Larissa nods. “So what are you saying now? That I don't?”

“No, far from it. You can feel eros for him now more than ever. But what you're also feeling is agape, the unconditional love that most people think of as God for his children, but can also mean total, complete trust and love for another person. Remind you of any feelings you have?” she says, her lips twitching. “Don't lie to me, Jessica. I can read people like a book.”

I sigh, then nod. “So what if I do, Larissa? Yes, I'd follow him to the ends of the earth, and I'd throw myself in front of a train to save him. I will obey him without question for the rest of my life if he lets me. Fuck, yesterday I literally placed my life in his hands, no safe word, no way to free myself and had the most intense, mindblowing experience I think anyone could ever feel. But what if he doesn't feel the same way? If he doesn't, then what does it matter if I tell him or not? He lets me remain as his slave, and while it's not perfect, it's a damn sight better than what I could have with any other man in the world.”

“It can change your world even more than you've already changed it,” Larissa says with a soft, sad smile. “Jessica, I know what Rodrigo thinks about me. He thinks I might be a sociopath, and I'll admit that he may be right. I do know that I've never felt agape, and I'm starting to wonder if I can ever feel it. But I also very much know what it looks like, and I've seen the way you and Rodrigo interact.”

“And the fact that we get off by having extremely dangerous kinky sex? Hell, I was having an internal discussion with myself last night wondering if he'd go the whole candle wax and burn thing on me. Even our mild sex has a kink to it.”

Larissa laughs. “Candles are fun. And there's nothing wrong with liking what you like. Jessica, take a hint from a criminal and someone who also likes what you like sexually. Who the fuck cares what other people think? If you feel for him, and he feels for you, I don't care if you both get off from the training room, or if you want to have sex in a bathtub full of olive oil in the middle of a crowd of strangers, or if you just do the straight lights off missionary position once a month for five minutes. Although that last one is far too boring for the likes of us, isn't it?”

I laugh, nodding, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Good,” Larissa says, positioning her targeting pad again. “Now, let's see what you remember of the knees that we practiced.”

We keep going, and towards the end even I have to admit that my body is getting worn down, I haven't fully recovered from last night and Master. Finally, Larissa stops me, and she leads me around the curve in the hill to her car, which I'm surprised to find isn't some sort of sexy sports car, but a rather plain looking four door Fiat. “Wow... uh, I would have expected something more....”

“Lamborghini?” Larissa asks, and I nod. She laughs, opening the driver's side door. “I already have one. Just not here. See you around.”

She drives off, and I look down the road, regretting the fact that I told Larissa that I'd be happy to jog back to the villa. At least I'm not being timed as I start off, going slowly to let my tired muscles cool down. It also gives me a chance to think as I slow to a walk. I need to think more than I need the extra exercise.

Larissa's right. I do care for Rodrigo in a way that transcends me being his slave, his friend, or just his sex partner. And maybe he feels the same way. I mean, last night he took that moment to loosen the cord around my neck just a little, and the way he kissed me... the way he kisses me in general is almost as good as the way we fuck.

Okay, I decide as I crest the last little hillock and start cutting cross country towards Rodrigo's villa. When he gets home, I'll make him a nice dinner, sit down... and then I'll ask him about how he feels if I do stay with him permanently. As more than his slave. If he says no, that I'm to remain his slave and that I'm to wear this silver collar for the rest of my life, then I'll be content with that. Better to have Rodrigo as my Master only than to not have him at all.

My path takes me to the back of the villa, and I circle around, heading for the main gate. Tomorrow Rodrigo said that he's going to get the gate fixed so that we can use the remote control system again, but for now the gate has to be left open, which I don't like but it's only for one more day. As I approach I pull out my pistol, part of my training with Larissa was on how to shoot properly. We didn't do any actual shooting, but a lot of dry firing in addition to the basic Krav Maga moves that she went over with me. Still, I feel better as I approach the house, my key in my left hand.

I'm halfway up the steps when I hear the scrape of a boot on the dirt behind me and I try to turn, but my feet aren't on the same level and I stumble slightly, having to go a little more slowly. That time is precious, because in it I feel the sting of something hit me in the thigh, and suddenly I can't really control my body. I sag to the steps, lucky that I don't go tumbling head over heels down the steps to break my neck. I can see though still, kind of, and I can still hear as two men approach, coming out of the shadows further to look me over.

“Is she?” one asks, and I try to focus my eyes, but I'm having problems. The other one looks me over, then nods.

“Yeah, she's alive. She's not going to give us any problems though.” He snaps my fingers in front of my face, laughing harshly when I blink. “Good stuff, disables the big muscles, leaves you able to breathe and awake. How're you doing, American bitch?”

“Fuck... you...,” I whisper in a tiny voice, the most I can manage. The second man laughs, and slaps my face hard. If there's any justice in this world, he'll pay for that. Preferably with Rodrigo ripping his balls off.

“Come on,” the first man says, getting his friend's attention. “The Sultan wants her as untouched as possible. You get her in the van, I'll get the note.”

The second man grabs me and pulls me to my feet before slinging me over his shoulder with a grunt. “Damn... I need more exercise.”

“What, you think those tits and ass weigh nothing?” the first man laughs harshly. “You just need to stop fucking drugged out teenagers and get some experience with a real woman like her. Too bad The Sultan's got other plans for her.”

“Maybe,” the second man says as he carries me. I can't see much except his ass and the ground as he lugs me out the gate, I recognize the track for that, turning left whereas I came around from the other side. He slides the door open on a van before setting me down with a grunt. At least he cradles my head to make sure I don't crack my skull on the cold metal floor. Once down, he takes a look at me again.

“Omar's right. You are one hot piece of ass. Maybe I can talk The Sultan into letting me fuck you before he kills you. That'd be worth the bonus on this job at least.”

I laugh, or at least I breathe more heavily, and whisper again. “Master's... gonna... kill... you.”

“Master, huh? Heard Rodrigo was a kinky motherfucker. Doesn't matter. Although maybe you'll like me tying you up some then.”

I can't resist as he binds me up and slams the door, going around to the driver's side and getting in. The engine starts up, and I close my eyes, praying to the God that Rodrigo goes to confession for that he looks after my Master and love.

Rodrigo

I know something is wrong even a couple hundred meters from the villa. The gate's open, and even if Larissa and Jessica's training went long, there's no way that the two of them would have been out for ten hours without giving me a call. I speed up a little, jamming my brakes and hopping out, my pistol ready as I get out. The villa is quiet, the sun's gone down and I sweep the yard, making sure there's nobody waiting for me before climbing the steps towards the door. The window in the back door's been broken open, and I find on the kitchen counter a brown envelope, my name written on it. I tear it open to find a single sheet of paper in Omar Al Gazi's refined hand.

I feel a flare of anger and something else inside me as I re-read the note and then glance at the clock. It's almost eight forty five now, I've got enough time to get to The Sultan's boat, I know where it's docked in Termini Imerese. I head to my room, changing clothes quickly. There's no time to waste but at the same time I'm not going into a nearly assured gun fight wearing a thousand dollar suit with leather loafers on. Instead, I go to the back of my closet and hit the catch that releases my secret panel, opening a small storage area that even Jessica doesn't know about. Inside I pull out my SWAT boots and pants, standard military issue along with my tactical holster with spare magazines and my Kevlar vest. I've never had to use any of this in three years, I've only cleaned it and made sure everything still fit.

Pulling it on, I know that regardless of whatever happens, tonight's going to mean one of two things. Either Rodrigo Camponini dies, or Omar Al Gazi dies. He took Jessica from me, and as I buckle the holster around my thigh, I realize that I care for her more than The Network, more than the FBI... more than my own life even.

“Somehow, some way, you'd catch me and save me before I drown. I trust you with my very life Master. So... let's walk that tightrope. I know you won't let me fall,” she said right before taking the most intense experience of her entire life. She trusts me, and as I double check my holster and pull a baggy t-shirt over top of my Kevlar, I vow that I won't let her down.

I hurry out to my truck, where in the glove compartment I change out the magazine, exchanging the normal rounds for a clip of alternating armor piercing rounds and hollow point magnum rounds. It's a super-hot load, more than I should carry in this pistol, but as I slip it into my holster, I know that I'm going to need it and a lot of luck.

The drive to Termini Iverese seems surreal, and I know what's happening, I'm in panic mode. We went through this at Quantico, how to keep calm when you're in a stressful situation. Of course, Quantico never prepared me for keeping calm when the woman that... the woman that's the most important person in the world to me is being held hostage by an evil man with no morals. I can't even call The Sultan crazy, at least at crazy he could be dismissed. No... The Sultan's as sane as anyone else on the planet. The problem with him is, he's just evil. The church can talk about original sin, about choice, about whatever... I just say Omar Al Gazi's an evil motherfucker.

The docks for Termini Imerese are in two sections. The larger section is near the actual port itself, and is used by most of the larger ships such as the cruise ships that dock here. It's not as popular a tourist dock as Palermo, but some of the smaller ferries and local cruises use Termini's location to bring people to Caccamo and away from the more crowded cities.

The second portion, what I want, is another third of a mile along Viale Targa Florio, the seaside road. I see them up ahead, the series of small artificial bays that were built when the port was put in, and the local fishermen and pleasure craft owners were pushed out. It's at one of these, almost all the way at the end of Targa Florio that I see the lone light that is the running lights on the Ali Baba. It's perfect for Omar Al Gazi, as he can run it with a small crew and dock nearly anywhere.

There's nobody on the deck when I pull up, but I didn't expect there to be, Al Gazi's never been the type to do things in public. The gangplank takes me to the main deck, where I see the crates on the cargo deck, strapped and covered, ready to go.

Above me on one of the crew decks there's movement, and I level my pistol, aiming carefully. The crewman is surprised when he goes to head down the walkway, but recognizes me quickly. “The Sultan is waiting for you.”

“Take me to him,” I order roughly, pulling back the hammer on my pistol. “And pray none of your buddies decide to do something stupid.”

He nods, his hands up as I climb the steps, keeping my pistol on the sailor. When I get up, I gesture with my pistol. “Okay, move it.”

We make our way into what had been one of the passenger decks of the ship, redone into Al Gazi's personal quarters, extravagant with Turkish rugs, hardwood paneling on the walls, and other such luxuries that you'd expect on a billionaire's yacht and not the headquarters of a smuggler king. The sailor points, and I nod, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing. His larnyx crushes easily before I pistol whip him, knocking him out to choke on his own blood. I don't need to have anyone possibly coming up behind me.

I open the door to The Sultan's stateroom to find him and two of his thugs waiting for me. Also, to my joy, is a very alive and very pissed off Jessica, her mouth gagged but her eyes widening when she sees me. “Al Gazi!”

“Come in, Rodrigo,” The Sultan says, ignoring my pistol. “And shut the door behind you.”

“Let her go, Al Gazi,” I demand, raising my pistol, but two of The Sultan's thugs raise their own guns, pointing them not at me but at Jessica. I immediately lower my gun and holster it, knowing that I'm not fast enough to put them both down before they shoot Jessica. “Let her go, and we walk away. I go to America, you stay here, and we don't fuck with each other's territory.”

The Sultan laughs like I just told a good joke. “Go to America? Oh, the irony of that, wouldn't you agree... Special Agent Campo?”

Al Gazi hits a button on his desk, and the large flat panel display on the side wall lights up. The picture's familiar, I remember the day it was taken. The hair color's a little different, I was into highlighting my hair back then, it was the height of the metrosexual craze. Still, I remember that face, back when I was innocent.

“Roderick Corleone Campo, second in his class at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virgina,” Al Gazi says, his voice rising slightly but still he sounds so under control it's creepy. “Born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, graduated from The United States Merchant Marine Academy before entering the FBI.”

“I never did like that portrait, the goddamn look on my face is so stupid,” I admit, Al Gazi tapping the button on his desk again and the slide changing to my grad photo from King's Point. “Bad haircut, but much better. You can see why I did the highlighting though, you ever try living at a service academy?”

“Enough with the jokes,” Al Gazi says, switching off the slides. “You're very good Campo, but not perfect. And while I would normally let Scoglitti take care of this, the fact is you've been threatening me directly for far too long.”

“A job is a job, Al Gazi,” I reply, keeping my cool and closing the door to his stateroom before crossing the room and standing in front of his desk. It gets me closer, which is what I need. “You've been pissing off the US Government more than the rest of The Network.”

“I see. I assume this was about the sales to the 'freedom fighters' in the Mideast? It doesn't matter,” he says. “You could have gotten away with it too, but you made a mistake. This woman. You bought her, gained my personal attention. Before that, I thought you were just an ambitious pup trying to kiss Scoglitti's ass.”

“She's no mistake. She's a better person than any of your men. Better than you, better than me,” I reply, looking over at Jessica. “She's one of a kind.”

“Then she can watch you die first,” Al Gazi says. “Put your pistol on my desk.”

I reach for my pistol, one of the thugs taking his gun off of Jessica to point it at me, and I know that now's the time. I draw, depending on the skills that I've ingrained in myself over the years, the quiet hours in the hills that were as much a part of my training as the running, the lifting, everything else. I disregard the gun that's pointed at me and fire at the thug who's still covering Jessica, my first round taking him in the gun shoulder, making him pull his pistol up even as he fires. The round misses Jessica and hits Al Gazi's desk, and before he can do anything I fire again, this time taking him high, just above his upper lip, the bullet smashing through his teeth before blowing his brains out.

A feeling like a sledgehammer hits me in the chest at the same time I hear a roar, and I roll back, dropping at the same time I go to aim at the other thug. He's got a hell of a piece, a ten millimeter most likely, but my Kevlar stopped most of the bullet's energy and more importantly the slug itself. I come up in a kneeling position and fire, hitting him in the throat and dropping him as his spinal column is torn out by the hollowpoint round. My ears are ringing, but I can see through the pain, and I level my gun at The Sultan, who's stunned by the turn of events.

“Campo... Rodrigo, we can-” Al Gazi says, but I don't let him finish, firing four times into his chest, killing him. Three dead in less than ten seconds, hopefully all of them burning in hell.

My ears start to come back to normal and I hear Jessica screaming behind her gag and I go over, kneeling in front of her and stroking her face. “Shhhh... Jessica, I'm here. I'm going to get you out of here.”

Jessica's eyes go wide and she tries to say something through her gag as I hear the hatch behind me start to open. I spin, firing as I do to catch the two men trying to come through before they can even get the hatch fully open. I empty my clip and drop it, doing a combat reload, just in case. The ship is silent though, and I turn my attention back to Jessica, loosening the cloth around her mouth. “Rodrigo, what is....”

Her words are cut off as I kiss her, a knot that's been forming in my chest dissolving with every second we're pressed together. I finally pull back when we have to breathe, going around behind her. “I know you've got a ton of questions, Jessica. And I promise, I will answer them. But first, we've got some things to do.”

“What?” she asks, and it hurts a little that she didn't use the term Master. But I guess after learning I'm not who I've told her for months I am, I deserve it.

“First, we have to get you untied. Then, we need to make sure the batteries are good in one of the crates so that we can do something else.”

“What's that?” Jessica asks. I go behind her and find the knots that they used to tie her. Part of me has to note... they were a bunch of amateurs, I'm much better at tying up Jessica than these idiots. I have to chuckle, then slip the knot free. “What?”

“Sorry, just a thought,” I explain. “As for what... I need your help blowing this fucking boat up.”

Jessica

“Oh... that's all you need help with,” I sarcastically reply when Rodrigo (wait, is he Rodrigo?) finishes untying me. “Well, I'm sure I can handle that easily.”

Rodrigo comes around and helps me to my feet, a smile on his face. “You don't know how much I missed that sauciness. I've spent the past two hours wondering if I'd ever hear it again. Just a minute.”

He grabs one of the pistols that is on one of the bodies and checks it quickly before handing me his pistol. “Here. Just in case.”

Thankfully, the boat's deserted, and we get to the cargo area without anyone stopping us. I help get the heavy tarp off the wooden crates on the deck before Rodrigo opens one of them and digs around a little before pulling out some sort of electronic device and grunts. “Fucking battery still works. First time for everything.”

“Rodrigo, what's going on?” I ask, and Rodrigo turns, grinning. “What?”

“In the truck, I promise. Then we'll go home and I can tell you everything,” he says, giving my hand a squeeze. “No secrets. Wait in the truck, this next part is going to be a little loud.”

I nod uncertainly, getting off the boat and getting in the passenger seat. I watch Rodrigo scurry around on the deck for a little while, then suddenly the engine on the boat starts up and it pulls away, heading towards the open water beyond the artificial harbor. I get out, but there's nothing and I wait nervously for whatever Rodrigo promised me. It's a full moon tonight and I watch the boat slip beyond the harbor breakwater, going about a hundred yards into the open water before suddenly an explosion rips through the back of the boat before more explosions follow, and the boat starts to sink quickly below the waves.

“Master!” I cry out, but then there's a knock on my window and I scream again in surprise, but it's Rodrigo, dripping wet and grinning. I get out, hugging him, and he hugs me back.

“Let's go home,” he whispers even as he soaks my shirt. “It's not over, but we can go home.”

We're silent until we're about halfway back to Caccamo, when the questions start pouring out of me. “So what the man said....”

“It's true,” Rodrigo replies. “My real name is Roderick Corleone Campo. I'm a Special Agent of the FBI, and for three years I've been Deep Cover in The Network.”

“So all of what you told me, your childhood, all of it... it's a lie?” I ask, for some reason more hurt than I should be. “Are you even Spanish and Italian?”

Rodrigo looks over, his amused smirk that I've come to look forward to back on his face. “Very little of what I told you was a lie, except for the big elephant in the room. My mother is the Italian one though, my father Spanish. I was born in Philly, grew up in Camden, just like I said.”

“And your bullshit about going into the family business? About having a degree from the streets?”

Rodrigo laughs. “I did go into the family business. My father's a cop, he works at the CSX Rail Yard across the river, and mom's a meter maid of all things. As for the degree from the streets... well, rail cops don't make a great salary, and yeah, I had a few bad years before I went to King's Point.”

We get back to the villa, where we go inside, and Rodrigo reaches for me, but I pull back. “Rodrigo, you... I just saw you shoot five people. I learned that that man that I thought I've known for months now, who I trusted with not just my body but my soul and even my heart isn't who I thought he was. Excuse me if I'm having trust issues right now.”

Rodrigo's face falls, but he nods in acceptance. “I understand. But Jessica, I had to lie about my job. Fuck, I'm Deep Cover FBI! I'm not even supposed to be operating outside the United States by the rule book!”

“And you bought me. Isn't that somewhere in the FBI rulebook under 'shit you're not supposed to do?' It's a pretty big breaking of the rules, you know,” I reply, getting angry. “How can I trust you?!”

“Because I'm not my fucking job!” Rodrigo yells, his eyes hurt. “Jessica, the only place, the only person I've been even mostly honest with the past three years has been you! In this villa, in the training room, in this house... you want to know me? You held me! You woke up in my arms, you felt me! The man you call Master... that's me! The me that nobody, nobody in this fucking world can fully understand except you! You're the only person I've let see the real me, the outer shell be fucked!”

“So what now?” I yell back, shaken by his words. “We just go back to what we were, Master and slave, you somehow covering this up or something?”

Rodrigo shakes his head, sighing. “We know that won't be possible. You know, part of me wanted you to run that day you chose to stay? I knew that if you stayed that it would be more dangerous, that I couldn't keep everything a secret from you forever. I thought it was all going to fall apart the day that my FBI contact messaged me and my FBI phone rang. But you... you accepted it all then. I know you aren't stupid, you're too special to have not thought something was up. But instead of prying... you trusted me. Huh.”

“What huh?” I ask, and Rodrigo looks up.

“This morning, I had a meeting with Scoglitti and Rachmaninoff, two of the other capo. They said that they were going to offer me the position of North American capo regardless of what happened with The Sultan. I'd sent a message to my FBI contact after I got a little more information on the shipment, then came home because I wanted to ask you something. I was going to give you a choice, I guess the same choice you have now. I was going to offer you your freedom, total and complete. A fake ID if you wanted it, half a million euro to get you set up wherever you wanted. Or... or you could come with me to America.”

“Which do you want?” I ask, and Rodrigo looks up, for the first time we've known each other nervous.

“Jessica... I want you to come to the United States with me. I need you in my life. I...”

Before he can finish there's a crash, the big window in the living room area crashing in and Rodrigo whirls, his gun out again. We both freeze though when we see Larissa, dressed in all black with some sort of oddly shaped rifle in her hands.

“FN 2000 versus Beretta Px4. I'd say the advantage is mine,” Larissa says, but her voice sounds different than before. Rodrigo's eyes tighten, but before anything can happen, I put my hand on top of his gun.

“Wait,” I say softly, and Rodrigo tenses. “Please... Master. Wait.”

“I'd listen to her, mate. I like you both, but I'm not going to take a bunch of rounds in the head and chest to prove it,” Larissa says, her violet eyes totally serious. “We put them down together, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Rodrigo says, lowering his gun slowly as Larissa lowers hers as well. When both guns are at least pointed at the floor, I feel like I can breathe again. “What are you doing here, Larissa?”

“And what's with the accent?” I ask, making Larissa smirk.

“I came to see if you two had gotten out safely. Sorry about the window, but I figured you wouldn't be keen on unexpected visitors, especially ones from The Network. Then I just had to be in here to listen to the rest of what you were saying. By the way, you yell quite loudly. Both of you,” she says, casually going over to the couch and sitting down, keeping her gun with her. “Did you get that going to gridiron games?”

“You... you've got a British accent,” I finally say, putting it together. “I had a classmate from London, he called it gridiron too. That and padball, and...”

“And handegg,” Larissa completes for me. “We do love making fun of what you call football. Very astute, Jessica. It feels good to be able to speak proper English instead of the abomination that I'm forced to use most of the time.”

“You're Deep Cover too,” Rodrigo says wonderingly, and Larissa nods. “Scotland Yard?”

“Oh no, I'd never work that that bunch of wankers,” Larissa says, gesturing for me and Rodrigo to join her. I do, while Rodrigo remains standing, his face still slack with surprise. Maybe I'm just rolling with it better because my life's been weird for months now. “Sorry. No... Agent Larissa Moraitis, MI6.”

“British....” I whisper, and Larissa nods. “I like the name Moraitis. Are you Greek at all?”

“Totally Greek,” Larissa says, “but educated in England. No more questions though, I have more work to do tonight. I came to tell you Rodrigo that your secret is safe. I've already been through The Network's as well as The Sultan's personal computers. Everything that says you're FBI has been scrubbed from The Sultan's files. Still need to take care of some other things, but... did I hear you correctly?”

“About?” Rodrigo asks, and Larissa arches an eyebrow.

“We've pulled guns on each other, I tell you I'm MI6, and you still play coy with me? Jessica, I take it back, he's a damn fool.”

“Watch it,” I growl instinctively, and Larissa laughs out loud. “I'm serious.”

“I know you are, which is what makes it funny. And cute. But Rodrigo, you were saying about becoming capo? And needing this bombshell?”

Rodrigo nods, then looks at me. “Jessica, I need you in my life. But not as my slave.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, and my heart stops when Rodrigo gets down on his knees in front of me. “Rodrigo....”

“Jessica, I didn't plan this when this all started, I didn't know what I was doing, but... I've fallen head over heels in love with you. I love you with all my heart, with all my soul. So yes, I'm asking you to stay with me, but also....” he says before he swallows deeply and reaches into a pocket of his pants, where he takes out a satin ribbon. “Will you choose to put this on? No locks, no forcing.”

“Why?” I ask, and Rodrigo takes my hand, placing the ribbon in my palm.

“Jessica... will you marry me?”

“Oh that's just capital,” Larissa whispers in shock. I feel the same way, looking at the ribbon in my hand, then at Rodrigo. Or Roderick, or.... no. He has only one name in my heart, and I know what it is.

“Yes, Master. I'll marry you... if you will still be my Master?” I ask, lifting my chin and handing the ribbon back to him. “Please help me tie this on right?”

Rodrigo slips the ribbon around my neck, tying it in a bow just above my metal collar before we kiss, and I'm not sure which one of us is crying, but my cheeks are wet. I pull him in closer, only to be interrupted by Larissa, who clears her throat quietly.

“Well... I think I'll let you two do what comes naturally in situations like this,” she says, getting to her feet. “I'll make sure you two are safe for the night.”

Larissa heads towards the kicked in picture window, pausing at the sill. “If you don't mind Rodrigo, mid-morning at our cafe?”

Rodrigo looks at me, then at Larissa, shaking his head. “I might be sleeping in some. Make it lunch. And you owe me for the damn window.”

Larissa gives us a jealous look, then smiles. “Capital. Jessica, condolences. Rodrigo, congratulations. Ta for now.”

She disappears through the window, and I look at Master, who shakes his head in wonder before turning and looking at me. “You still want me to be Master?”

“Whether your name is Rodrigo, Roderick, or anything else... you are always my Master,” I vow, taking his face in my hands and kissing him. “Besides, how many slaves can say that their sexy Master took a bullet for them. How's it feel, by the way?”

“Kevlar took the bullet, chest aches some... but I feel better than I have in my entire life,” he says, getting up and pulling me to my feet. “I know what I want to do now, too.”

“And what's that?” I ask, putting my arms around his neck and smiling. “Spank my ass red?”

Master shakes his head, even though he does reach down and cup my ass tenderly. “No. I want to do something I've never done before. I want to make love.”

We hold hands going to the bedroom, where I peel Master's shirt over his head, kissing the pinkish red blemish where he's going to have a bruise tomorrow, the sign of his love for me. I knew when he shot the man what happened, he protected me first at total disregard for his own life, and as I run my hands over the soft skin and hard muscle of his chest, I feel my heart open up, and a whisper of a voice inside me.

I'm free. I'm complete, for real this time.

Yes I am, I think as I lay my head against his chest and listen to his heart beat, strong and sure. “Master... it's okay that I keep calling you that, right?”

“It's always your choice,” Master says, pushing my head back to look in my eyes. “But if you do, there's going to be rules. Like the training room.”

“Of course Master,” I moan in reply. “But tonight... I choose to make love too.”

Master kisses me again, strong and tender at the same time as we undress each other, his hands stroking my back and legs as he kneels down, running his hands down the back of my legs before standing up, stopping when I put a hand on his head, stopping him. “Yes?”

“I've served you for months Master, and I'll serve you for the rest of my life,” I reassure him, looking at the image of him on his knees in front of me. “Still... there's a part of me that likes you on your knees in front of me. Just give me a minute to make a mental picture.”

“Why just a minute?” Master says, cupping my ass and kissing my waist. Butterflies fill my stomach as he kisses lower, lowering himself until his breath tickles the smooth skin of my pussy, and he hums. “I'm so getting you laser treatments for this area. I want you smooth forever.”

“Yes Master,” I whisper, letting the heat roll through me as he reaches out with his tongue and parts my lips, tasting me like fine wine. Master sips and drinks from my growing wetness, his tongue finding all the places that I love and stroking them tenderly. There's no pain this time, just overwhelming pleasure, and deep inside, I'm happy.

There's always going to be a side of me that wants the sensory overload that is the training room, going to the edge with Master and pushing the boundaries, feeling the pain and the pleasure and everything.... but this time, there's something more too. There's the reassurance that Master loves me, that I love him.

“Master.... mmmm, you love licking my pussy, it's so good,” I moan, running my fingers through his hair. “I love you....”

Master mumbles 'I love you' into my pussy, the vibrations of his lips and tongue sending delicious ripples up my body and warming my heart. I've opened the final, most secret door... the door to my heart, and he accepts me, loving me with his tongue and teeth and lips, tasting my pussy and stroking my clit while his strong hands hold my ass, pulling me against him until my knees buckle and I fall back on the bed, unable to support myself any longer. I laugh, moaning as Master crawls up after me and keeps licking until I break, moaning his name out long and low as my first orgasm rolls over me. Master keeps his tongue totally still, buried deep in my pussy as I coat his face with my juices before he pulls back, pushing his pants the rest of the way down and taking off his things.

“You're right, I love tasting your pussy,” Master says as he slides up next to me, kissing me deeply before kissing my neck. “I love every inch of you, inside and out. Jessica, I thought I'd never find anyone like you. But you exist, my perfect woman.”

“My perfect Master,” I moan, looking into his eyes. “Master.... I don't ever want to call you Rodrigo again. Forever and always, public, private, fuck it, even in the church when we take our vows, I want to call you Master.”

Master chuckles, kissing my lips. “Father Giacamo might not like that last one, but I'm fine with that.”

“And a permanent mark, a tattoo, a brand, something,” I whisper. “Can you.... can you give me that gift?”

He nods, kissing me again. “We'll discuss it another time. For now... just love.”

He lifts my right leg and strokes my pussy, his cock hard and pressing against my inner thigh before he slips into me, a slow gentle joining that brings tears to my eyes, tears of happiness as we look into each other's eyes. He strokes slowly, no pain at all but just the warm building of the tension inside my body as his cock fills me over and over again. We kiss, our souls and hearts blending as we truly become one, complete and together.

I don't know when we start speeding up, everything is natural, everything is joined together, but there's never any pain, no harshness. The edge is intentionally taken off as Master and I give ourselves to each other, my pussy gripping his cock as our hands explore each other, skins tingling from every touch and caress and kiss. We don't even need any words as my second orgasm builds, and then I'm coming again, crying out in pure joy as Master comes deep inside me, my hands clutching him to me and his hands deep in my hair.

We stay like this afterwards, his cock still inside me as we recover, his eyes searching mine. “Why?”

“Why what, Master?” I ask, then realize what he's asking. “Because you're as perfect for me as I am for you. Because you showed me my weakness and my strength, and because you are the perfect match to my needs and desires. Isn't that enough?”

“It's enough,” he whispers, kissing my neck again. “I'm yours as much as you're mine, you know.”

I stroke his head, relaxing in the warm glow of our joining before responding. “I know. So... am I worth the quarter million you paid yet?”

Master laughs, getting up on his elbows and looking down at me. “I don't know... we'll have to really push you to see if you're worth that much money.”

I grin, shifting my hips to wrap my legs around Master and keep his resting cock still inside me. “Aw Master, you know I'm a good girl.”

Master laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. “When you're good you're good, but when you're naughty... you're priceless.”

I chuckle and scratch his back lightly, playfully. “Ooops, I guess you're going to have to punish me then.”

Master growls, smiling. “I have a few ideas. Let's see how many we can do before we need to get some sleep.”

Rodrigo

“You don't look any the worse for wear,” Larissa says with a knowing chuckle as we sit down. “Did you sleep in?”

“I did. Also decided to delay my run today until after we talk and I go to confession, then The Farm” I say. I might not look the worse for wear, but then again, going to sleep at six in the morning for five hours of sleep leaves me still a bit worn out. “I figure Father Giacamo misses me. If it's okay?”

“Very okay, but I wouldn't go talk to Giacamo. The poor man's dick would get chapped, I stopped by confession yesterday and I know he was busy by the time I finished my story for him,” Larissa laughingly replies, and I realize I'm looking for her British accent, which is strange considering that I've only heard it for a few minutes last night, while I've known her with this Greek accented voice for years. “Sit down, I ordered already. Arroncini and latte.”

“That'll be good. I don't want to eat too much. Just a suspicion, but I think Jessica's going on a cooking spree back at the villa.”

Larissa chuckles, leaning in. “You are the luckiest bastard on the planet, you know that right?”

“I know,” I reply with a chuckle. “And just think, she could have been yours for the low, low price of a quarter million euros.”

“That's okay, my bisexual side is just for work,” Larissa says, surprising me. “What? I've seduced women Rodrigo, I've never had a relationship with one. No, relationship wise, I'm all for team boys.”

Our lattes arrive, along with the plate of a half dozen arroncini, the fried rice balls herbal and delicious. Larissa lifts her cup in a toast. “To the lucky man. Salud.”

“Salud,” I reply, clinking cups before taking a sip. “So... can we speak honestly?”

“I'd like that,” Larissa says, a hint of her British coming back. “That's why I like this cafe. The Network doesn't care about this little place.”

“So all those assignments you went on, how many were legit?” I ask, and Larissa chuckles.

“All of them. Like you, I work around the needs of The Network. Sometimes my associates and The Network's goals lined up, like my trip to Zürich. Sometimes I added dropoffs and contacts, and once in a while.... well, let's just say there's a plumber in Edinburgh whose DNA identity would surprise Rachmaninoff,” Larissa says. “Not always, but sometimes. My missions are not always what they appear.”

I nod, thinking about the question that's been on my mind this morning as I left the villa. “We've known each other for two years now... was our friendship also just a mission, not what it appeared?”

Larissa hums, taking a bite of an arroncini. “Of course our friendship wasn't quite what it appeared. But yes, we are friends Rodrigo. There are sometimes unexpected perks to the lives that you and I lead. Finding a kindred spirit and friend in you... that was a good perk.”

“And you knew about me?” I ask, and Larissa nods. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“There are perks, and there are drawbacks. My position within The Network allowed me more freedom to contact, but still.... I'm technically breaking orders now letting you know,” Larissa says. “A risk I'm willing to take. I trust Jessica's Master.”

I laugh at her cheekiness, only slightly regretting that I couldn't see this side of her for years. “So what's next?”

“That's totally up to you,” Larissa says. “My superiors will probably want me to move back to Greece, it's a better hub for what I could be doing. Meanwhile... North America for you perhaps?”

I lean back in my cafe chair, considering it all. “I need to check on that. So tell me, if you can... when you told me about your past, the kidnapping, Jeddah, all of it... how much was bullshit?”

“Only my age,” Larissa says quietly. “I wasn't eleven when I stabbed that bastard to death. I was eight. He liked them before puberty more than after.”

“Fuck....” I whisper, and Larissa shrugs.

“No tears, it gets cheerier after that. The flight I got put on ended up in London, and I got lucky. The people who took me in were in the government, MI5 and not MI6, so I got a relatively normal early teen years. It was my choice to go to the government and become an agent,” Larissa says with a small little smile. “I didn't learn my sexual skills on the streets, but under the watchful eyes of some of the best instructors in the British Commonwealth.”

“So are you really... into the same things I am?”

Larissa laughs, her smile spreading and her violet eyes sparkling with the intelligence and wicked humor that I've come to know and enjoy. “I was a kinky girl long before I was doing it for Queen and Country. They just showed me some more ways to have fun.”

I shake my head, the two of us finishing our light lunch. When the bill comes I take out my cash before Larissa can even move, handing our server fifty euro and telling them to keep the change. “Generous, aren't you?”

I chuckle, shaking hands with my friend and equal. “For what you did for me, I'm buying lunch... for the rest of our lives. Look me up if you ever get to the States.”

“Oooh, a challenge. I haven't taken on American security systems in a while, be good for keeping my skills sharp,” she teases before standing and embracing me, her voice going soft. “Be good to her, my friend.”

“Stop by the villa whenever you want. It'll be a while before we leave,” I reply, hugging her back. “Thank you, my friend.”

I leave, getting in my truck to drive to the church, where I leave it after doing a quick, highly selective confession with Giacamo and run to the Farm. The jog helps me relax, and when I get to the gate I'm feeling good, barely sweating. Inside, Scoglitti is waiting for me in the office, his face brightening when I arrive. “Ah, Rodrigo! In what has been a shit day, you bring some brightness!”

“Zio, it's always good to see you,” I greet him. “I heard about The Sultan. What would you ask me to do?”

“There is nothing to do, the matter is settled,” Scoglitti says. “Obviously when we heard about the explosion, we were curious, but Larissa vouched for you, saying the two of you were having a late dinner at your villa with your woman. From what we can tell... we think The Sultan finally pissed off the Israelis a bit too much. And Mossad doesn't fuck around.”

“That they don't,” I agree, glad that I'd taken the time to rig things on the boat the way I did. That and trusting Larissa. “So what did you want me to come to The Farm for?”

“To formally ask if you'll become capo of North America,” Scoglitti says. “The fact is, this decision becomes more important than ever. While I'd miss your assistance here in Sicily, what The Network needs is to move through this transition as quickly as possible, get restabilized. So what do you say?”

I think, then realize this isn't my decision any longer. “Zio, I need to confer with one person on this. Jessica.”

“Your slave?” Scoglitti asks. “Why?”

“Zio, I've fallen in love with her... and last night I freed her and asked her to marry me. No matter what, I have to take her into consideration as well.”

Scoglitti studies me for a minute, his eyes unreadable. It's a risk that I have to take, I realize. The old Cosa Nostra code required the members to place the Mafia above even their families, but The Network hasn't been quite so strict in this interpretation of the rules. Finally, he hums. “This Jessica... is she that remarkable?”

“And more, zio. I love her very deeply.”

“If she says no, what would you do?”

I shrug. “You still need an assistant here in Caccamo. It's a good town, a good place to be married, to have a family some day.”

Scoglitti hums, and strokes his beard. “I understand. Well, can you give me a call tonight with your decision?”

I stand up, brushing off my shorts before offering my hand to Scoglitti. “Zio, I promise. By midnight, you'll have my decision.”

We shake, leaving the office and heading outside. Scoglitti goes over to his Maserati, turning when he's half inside. “Rodrigo!”

“Zio?”

Scoglitti closes his door and looks at me over the roof of his car. “You realize, getting married, being so honest in loving this woman... it's a weakness. Your enemies could try to exploit it.”

I laugh harshly, shaking my head. “Let them try, zio. They will find out a very harsh lesson.”

“What's that?”

“It is in my weakness that they will find my strength.”

* * *

The villa does smell like Jessica's been cooking her ass off when I walk in, but I'm still surprised by the size of the spread that waits for me on the dining room table. “Jessica, there's no way that we can eat all this! My God love, there's enough here for five people!”

“Say that again please Master,” Jessica says, coming out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine and setting it on the table. “Hearing you call me love is... well, thank you.”

I grab her wrist and pull her into an embrace, kissing her soft lips tenderly. “I love you Jessica. I love you, and I will always love you. How's that?”

“I love you too Master,” Jessica says, kissing me deeply. I hum, my cock twitching in my pants and she steps back, ever the perfect lady. “So... how was Caccamo?”

“Larissa says I'm the luckiest bastard on the planet,” I answer, making her smile. I hope that whatever happens in the future, they can remain friends. “I'm inclined to agree with her. And... I was formally offered the capo job.”

“What did you say?” she asks, and I shake my head. “You turned it down?”

“No, I told Scoglitti that I needed to ask you,” I explain, reaching out and holding her hands. “Jessica, there's three choices for us. One, I turn the job down and we remain here, on Sicily. Two, I become capo, and we move to North America. Both would require that I remain Deep Cover, which means that for ninety nine percent of the time, I would have to act like a member of The Network.”

“What's our third choice?” she asks, stroking my face. “Run away to Fiji?”

“No... but I could get in contact with the FBI, have them pull us out. We'd be given totally new names and go back to a normal life, I'd probably be an intelligence analyst or training officer for Deep Cover programs,” I say. “What do you want?”

Jessica thinks, then comes closer, kissing me again. “What I want is to sit down with the man who will become my husband, have a nice dinner... and one other thing.”

“What's that?” I ask, pulling her close. Jessica wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly before standing on her tiptoes and whispering in my ear.

“Five minutes head start for hide and seek?” she asks, licking my earlobe. “We made love last night. Tonight I want Master to make it hurt.”

My cock twitches in my pants, and I smack Jessica's ass, growling. “Five minutes, one phone call... and then your ass is mine.”

Jessica moans and pats her backside, already anticipating what's to come. “It always will be, Master.”

Jessica

“Good morning Missus Camponini,” the doorman greets me as I leave our building, automatically hailing me a cab. Living in the penthouse has its perks. “Pretty day, ain't it?”

“That it is, Logan,” I reply, glancing up at the sky above. It's nice to see blue after a week of gray, and I'm glad, I've got a busy day. “Good fall weather.”

“You ain't lyin'. Even better, I got tickets to the Giants game this Sunday, I hope this holds out another few days,” Logan says as a taxi pulls up. “Here you go, Missus Camponini. Have a good day.”

I give him a wave and climb in. I've got a busy day, with a workout scheduled at the gym before I meet up with Gina, our new FBI contact, for tea and biscuits while she and I supposedly work together on the charity front for The Network, and then a doctor's appointment. Since moving to New York Master has been very careful on my health, and when I started feeling a bit nauseous the other day, he made sure I scheduled an appointment. I want to be healthy too, we've got dinner tonight at Le Bernardin, and I want to enjoy the evening.

My workout goes great, Larissa's tips still helping even as I get glances from some of the guys in the gym. Master laughs when I tell him about men hitting on me at the gym, mainly because we both know they couldn't handle me even if I gave them a chance. There's a few who recognize what the metal collar and satin ribbon around my neck along with the small brand of RC on the inside of my left wrist means, and they're respectful.

Gina, who despite her Italian sounding name is half Chinese half WASP, is dressed as she always is, looking more like a lawyer than a FBI contact when I arrive at Persephone's Smile, the name of the charity that Master let me pick out. She looks a little peeved when I show up, and I raise an eyebrow while I prepare my mug of tea. “What's wrong, Gina? We said eleven. It's ten forty still, traffic from Chelsea Piers was good today.”

“Someone finally clued me in to something that's been on my mind for two months,” she says, her Midwest accent still clear even though she's lived in New York for five years. “I thought those collars you wear are just for decoration. Then I saw the brand, and I noticed you never use his name, and well, just... why?”

“Decoration... and marking,” I admit, smiling. “Jealous?”

“No...,” she grumbles, but I don't believe her. “Just... why?”

“Because he's powerful, he's amazing, and he's all mine,” I tell her, sitting down at the conference table. “And because it's my choice. It always has been.”

Gina shakes her head, and as we work I see her keep glancing at my collars. Finally, she sets down her pen, blushing. “Your choice?”

“My choice,” I confirm. “I asked him to brand me, and if you ever see him out of his work suits, you'll find a matching JC brand on the inside of his right wrist, they touch when we hold hands. You gotta realize, just because I submit to Master doesn't make me weak, Gina. If anything, it makes me stronger. Now, let's talk about next week's shipment, and who's scheduled to buy.”

* * *

The nights are getting a little crisp, but I feel great as Master escorts me into Le Bernardin, where our table is waiting for us in a private, quiet corner. It's not where the celebs and image seekers sit, but that's why we requested this spot... it's not supposed to be with the fame seekers.

“Have I told you yet that you look amazing tonight?” Master asks me as he holds my chair like a total gentleman. Then again, he is. “The most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Considering there's two actresses and a Vogue cover model in the room, I'm flattered Master,” I reply, taking his hand as he sits down. “How was work?”

“Things at the docks are going just fine,” he says, shrugging. “And my meetings were fine. We'll be prepared for next week.”

The waiter comes over, his book out and ready for our order. “May I interest you in a wine tonight?”

“No, not tonight,” I say before Master can order for us. “Just mineral water, if you please. And a few minutes on the appetizers.”

The waiter nods and leaves, Master giving me a surprised look. “Is everything okay, Jessica?”

I smile, reaching across and taking his hand. “Everything's fine, Master.”

“Then why the water? Have we been... well, have we been training too roughly recently?” Master asks, and I shake my head.

“No Master, I love the suspension rig. Uh... but we might need to not use it for a while. The doctor said that might not be good for the next few months,” I say. Master gives me a worried look, and I decide to let the cat out of the bag. “At least until after I have our baby.”

Master's hand falters, and he sets down his glass of water. “Wait, did I just hear you right?”

“You did. We're in...,” I say, then laugh at my own wit. “We're in the family way.”

Master chuckles at my phrasing, taking my hand. “My love.”

There's only one word that I need to respond, the one word that means everything to me. “Master.”

Keep reading for the 2nd part of this story, Larissa’s book.