Nine
There was only one thing that managed to keep me sane at the moment, and interestingly enough it was driving me insane at the same time. Infuriatingly, I could not get James Leverett out of my head. Whilst work had given me a virtual lobotomy as of late, James had given my libido a kick-start that a Ducati would have been proud of. I now wanted to jump everything that moved, although I somehow managed to keep a lid on the idea. Vanilla sex probably wasn’t going to cut it anymore after our session, and I seriously considered booking another appointment with the man. Neither my pride nor my willpower would allow me to do so, but the daydream stayed alive through the dreary drudge of administrative work that continued to flow my way. Finding myself reliving our afternoon over and over again, it was with a wan smile that I acknowledged Miss Sharkey’s sudden presence in my office.
“Lois.” Her fake smile of greeting sent shards of permafrost through me. In her designer heels, she stood a couple of inches higher than me, but that hadn’t managed to intimidate me as of yet.
Lifting her neck high, her brown eyes bore down, assessing me yet again. She played this game at least five or six times a day, and it was wearing thin. I was not going to break down, nor had I ever broken down, except after my session with James a few weeks ago, and she didn’t need to know about that. I had no idea what she was waiting for, and clearly she wasn’t about to tell me. Short of praying daily that she was struck down by lightning, there wasn’t a lot else I could do if I wanted to keep my job, and I needed to keep my job. Losing that would be unbearable, unless I was forced to join the ranks of admin, and if that was the case, then I’d rather she just shot me now. Even Hari Kari had to be better than enduring this on a daily basis.
Standing up, I gathered the heap of files that I’d been given that morning and reeled them off one by one for her. “I’ve typed up the interview for Randall vs. Lacey, twenty interview questionnaires have been sent out as per your request, the stockroom inventory has been completed, and I’ve found and corrected an error in your spreadsheet for employee pension contributions.” I returned her fake smile with one of my own and shoved the files across my desk to her.
“My, you have been busy this morning,” she said, giving me one of her favourable looks. I did not care for it.
“Not particularly. I twiddled my thumbs for at least an hour, watered all the office plants, and am now experimenting with baking.” There was a definite acerbic quality to my voice.
“Baking?” Miss Sharkey looked perplexed. Score one for me.
“Apparently you can bake a chocolate cake in a cup. Who knew? I intend to have it for my lunch break, to cheer myself up.” I was going to lose my job, but I didn’t care. There had to be someone else in the world who’d want me and my dubious talents.
“We don’t have an oven.” Her frosty demeanour was replaced by confusion, and it was a better look than the pitying glances I’d been treated to as of late.
“It’s a microwave experiment.” Miss Sharkey had a thing about cleanliness. The office kitchen was her personal domain, and there was a rota to ensure that everything was kept squeaky-clean. I was pretty sure that baking a cake would be frowned upon, though it wasn’t expressly forbidden to my knowledge.
Her eyes narrowed. “Are we boring you, Lois?” She folded her arms across her chest and I followed suit.
“Not only are you boring me senseless, you are also driving me mad. Everyone talks in hushed whispers whenever I’m around, and no one takes their eyes off me in case I’m about to rush off and slit my wrists. Well, I have news for you. The only time I’ve come anywhere close to committing suicide is every damn morning when you give me the office filing to complete. I am not cut out for the role of admin. Hell, I can’t even be polite on the telephone anymore.” The poor postman had discovered this fact earlier when he’d buzzed to come into the office a second time, as he’d forgotten an item of post. This required that I walk down five flights of stairs to let him in, again, because we were all being eco-friendly in the office, and trying not to use the lift. I might have used a few swear words to tell him how happy I was to see him.
Miss Sharkey looked flabbergasted for a moment, and there was a long pause that gave me time to plan my latest resume that I would most certainly need very shortly.
“Do you want me to fire you, Lois?” There was no hint of a smile now, and now that we were at the point of no return, I saw no need to dance around the issue.
“Yes. If you plan on giving me any more paperwork, I would like to be fired.” There. I’d gone and said it. I meant it, too.
There was another pause, which gave me time to shuffle my handbag towards me, and then she laughed. It was my turn to look puzzled.
“Finally. Your psychotherapist told me you would let me know when you’re ready, and I guess this is as good an indication as I’ll get. Are you ready to go back to work, Lois?”
“Hell yes,” I replied vehemently. Releasing the death grip I now had on my handbag, I breathed a sigh of relief. “Send me anywhere. I just need to get back to work.”
“Meet me upstairs in the blue room at two thirty. I’ll have your next assignment ready.”
“Yes ma’am,” I said, realising my world once again had colour in it.
Miss Sharkey turned around to leave, but tossed her head over her shoulder just before she reached the door.
“Oh, Lois?”
“Yes,” I replied warily.
“If there’s a mark upon my microwave, I will be rescinding my invitation. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” I said, openly grinning for the first time in weeks.
The blue room was actually blue - a nice shade of topaz, in fact. Cellular Operations - our cover name - also had a green room, which was green, and a yellow room, which was hideous and vomit-inducing. Thankfully, blue was my favourite colour.
I’d been twiddling my thumbs for ten minutes or so, because in my line of business you are always early. If you’re punctual, you’re late. This meant I’d had plenty of time to admire the stark décor, which comprised of a sturdy grey table that could comfortably seat ten and a large black TV screen placed prominently on the far wall. There was also an overhead projector, a laptop, and some horribly bright halogen strip lighting. A few grey linoleum tiles completed the ghastly look. Apparently they didn’t want me distracted, not that they had any worries on that score. I was desperate to get back in the ring, and I was happy to do pretty much anything they required of me. It would be nice if the assignment was a challenge, though, because having a shot of adrenaline running through my system might help me get James out of my system once and for all.
“Lois.”
I’d heard her footsteps, so it was no surprise when the door slammed shut behind her.
“Ma’am.”
“Yes.” It was the one I had been chomping at the bit to complete. Three weeks training in the art of kinky sex, then a leisurely stay in a millionaire’s mansion. That was my kind of assignment. Unfortunately, I’d missed the boat on that one. My psych report had been all over the place and they’d grounded me.
“We gave it to Janice.” She sat down at the head of the table and shuffled her files about. Looking at me from behind lowered lashes, she waited patiently for my response.
“Did she have fun?” I couldn’t help the sour look on my face. Janice and I were not the best of friends, and the fact that she had stolen a prize assignment from under my nose was certainly not the best news I had received today.
“As a matter of fact, she didn’t.” A calculating look ran across her face. “She didn’t manage to last a week, Lois.”
That put a smile on my face. “The millionaire ditched her?” It was wrong to take a huge amount of evil glee in someone else’s downfall, but Janice was a special case. We had history.
“No, she never got that far. She didn’t last a week in training.” Miss Sharkey’s eyes devoured me as I digested that little snippet.
It certainly wiped the smile off my face.
“But Janice is one of the best operatives we have. How is that possible?”
“I have asked myself the same thing, Lois. Apparently some people just aren’t cut out for it, or so I’ve been told, which leads me to the question: would you like to have a shot at it?”
There was a pause as I digested her offer. I didn’t usually go for sloppy seconds, but this was a special case. Having been absolutely destroyed when I’d realised my return to field duty would not be as expedient as I’d hoped, I think I was more upset that I hadn’t got a chance to explore the BDSM lifestyle a bit further. There were a lot of questions floating around my head that I would have loved answers to, and three weeks training would certainly help me out with those. I also wanted to see if James was right. It won’t come easy, but if you have the right incentives along the way, you’ll do fine.
I didn’t have to think for long. This was just what I needed to put the past behind me.
“Yes.” I folded my arms in my lap and tried to look cool, calm, and confident. I was anything but and couldn’t wait to get started.
Sharkey looked at me long and hard. “Are you sure you’re ready? I do not want to book you in for three weeks training, and have you run screaming like Janice did after just two days.”
That had my attention. “Two days? What the hell did they do to her?”
“Strictly speaking, that would be confidential.”
I nodded, duly chastened. I knew that. “Of course,” I said.
“But that’s the interesting part. She won’t tell me. So I guess there’s no harm in telling you that.” Miss Sharkey grinned. It was a rare occurrence. I guessed her curiosity had been piqued.
“So you want me to go in there and find out, huh?”
“No.” She shook her head, then looked me directly in the eye and compressed her lips. “I want you to go in there, complete the whole damn course, and then ace your assignment.”
Of course she did. So did I, for that matter.
“Well, it seems like we want the same thing. When do I start?”
“I knew I could count on you, Lois. You start Monday. I trust that’s acceptable?”
“Absolutely. Do I still have to come to the office tomorrow?”
“Do you want to?” Miss Sharkey was now trying hard to suppress a grin, damn the woman.
“Is that a trick question?” I really did not want to wake up at five thirty tomorrow morning, if there was any chance of avoiding it.
“Then I guess you can pick up your files from me later, and take the rest of the week off – provided my microwave is in sparkling condition.”
It was my turn to grin. “You could eat your dinner from it.”
“I think that’s kind of the idea, Lois, she said, rolling her eyes as her left hand ushered me from the room.
I did not need to be told twice.
My files were delivered in due course. I was expected to have a medical, which was no great surprise, and then I had to fill out about a dozen questionnaires regarding my sexual history and experiences. If that weren’t bad enough, finally I would have to fill out the ridiculous limits form that I denied James the pleasure of receiving. He’d have the last laugh, if only he knew. At the back of the file there were some brief instructions for my stay, mostly regarding what I could and could not bring. By the looks of things, I would be travelling light, but I hadn’t really expected anything else.
The actual location of the training camp had yet to be disclosed to me, and worryingly, I wouldn’t know where I was going until I got there. The destination was to be kept secret, and I would be picked up and dropped off by a driver. The cogs in my head began to turn. Why wasn’t I expected to drive there? Maybe they thought three weeks was a long time to have a parked car sitting about. Perhaps, but something didn’t sit right with me. I’d have to figure that one out later.
Shoving my handbag over my shoulder, I said goodbye to my temporary office and added the term ‘good riddance.’ With any luck I wouldn’t be asked to do any further paperwork in my long (hopefully!) and industrious career. Oh wait, I had half a ton of the stuff to do as soon as I got home. Maybe I could finish some on the train journey back. Having been about to walk out of the door, I swept back in, stole a black biro, and then made good my exit.
Over a cup of freeze dried, chemically enhanced, hot muddy water that almost smelled like coffee, I examined the contents of my file more closely. I was allowed to bring one change of clothes, a toothbrush, and any medication I would need for a three-week trip. That was it. Mobile phones and any cellular or wifi equipment were expressly prohibited, and it stated that anything I brought inside the camp over my allowance would be immediately confiscated, and I would be punished for ‘disobeying the rules.’ There was a good chance that I might be entering Nazi Germany in a few days’ time, I thought.
It then went on to note that I would need to make sure that contraception details were taken care of - they recommended the injection. On assignment, it presented less risk, and there would be one less thing to worry about. It also mentioned the change of clothes would be for the return journey only. I wouldn’t be expected to wear clothes for most of the duration of my stay, and if any were needed, they would be provided. My stomach took a nose dive, but if I was honest, what had I really expected? They were training me up as a submissive sex slave, and I’m guessing clothes weren’t going to be a big thing in my world for the next few weeks. On the plus side, sex was, and if it was anything of the likes James had demonstrated, it wasn’t all bad news. My vibrator and I had been having some intense workouts lately, but anyone who tells you sex toys are better than the real thing is lying. It is an almost sufficient substitute, but that’s as far as it goes. Besides, my ass wanted a good paddling, and it wasn’t going to spank itself, was it?
I nearly choked on my coffee. Had I seriously been fantasising about being spanked? Yes, I had. Did that make me evil and perverted? Who cared? I was already going straight to hell, so I might as well take the fast track route. God, James, what have you done to me? I put my head in my hands. Never had I needed the distraction of work so badly. Maybe three weeks of kinky stuff would wear me out so I could put James out of my mind for good. One could only hope. Monday could not come quick enough, and it was days away. All I had to look forward to in the days in-between were a medical, several injections, and a three-minute packing spree. Oh, and a wonderful three page tick the box limits form. I was looking forward to that. Maybe I’d do it after a few glasses of wine for kicks. Then again, maybe not. I’d trusted James for some unknown reason. He’d shown me the error of my ways. If I got some completely crazy sadist and had to come home with my tail between my legs, I’d never live it down in the office. I planned to have one up on Janice, and whoever was in that training camp waiting for me had better be prepared to go to war, because I was not coming home after two days. Put it this way, they’d have to be at least twice as bad as James, and that wasn’t likely, was it? I grinned. It wouldn’t be after I’d crossed nearly every damn item off the limits list. Damned if I was going to make it easy for them.
My week dragged by impossibly slowly, and even my twenty-kilometre run and kick-boxing class on Friday appeared to stretch into slow motion. My heart rate might have been thumping, and my breathing was hard, but the world around me had turned into thick-set honey, and it barely moved. The wait was driving me mad. I couldn’t watch TV, couldn’t read, couldn’t listen to music, couldn’t eat… basically I couldn’t do anything. Sitting numbly on my couch, I ran through a thousand and one possibilities in my head. Would I get through training? Would I enjoy it? Why couldn’t I take my own car? Would I be allowed outside? What would the future assignment entail? Was there any chance my millionaire might be attractive? Would this be the one where I took a bullet?
Some of my thoughts were ridiculous. Take the ‘attractive’ one for instance. If they wanted me in there for wet work, what did it matter how attractive he was if I’d been sent there to kill him. Dammit. I always got like this before going on assignment. I just needed to calm myself down. Moving numbly towards the kettle, I made myself a cup of my favourite camomile tea. It wasn’t going to help me get through the weekend - nothing would - but it was a familiar smell and taste, it was comforting, and it wouldn’t affect my roiling stomach.
I desperately wanted to call James. I wanted to grill him on everything BDSM and ask him what I could expect to endure over three weeks of intense training. I clutched my cell tightly, and kept flicking through my contacts, my finger hovering over ‘Elite Encounters’ several times, but I never let myself dial. As much as I wanted to hear his voice and talk to him, I didn’t want the entanglements that might ensue. Christ. Who was I kidding? The man had women throwing themselves at him on a daily basis. Why would he be interested in me? He was a God in a realm of black, intense sexuality that I could barely comprehend, so he wasn’t going to look twice at me. He’d have a woman stashed somewhere that was experienced in such matters. There was no way he’d want a novice. My cell clattered to the floor, and I didn’t even bother to pick it up to see if it still worked. It had three weeks where it could sit in a repair shop if necessary, so it hardly mattered. James Leverett was out of my league, and I had no room for a relationship. The matter would end there.
“Oh, thank you, but there’s no way I can sleep right now,” I said nervously.
He turned round to give me a hard look. “Then you can go straight back inside,” he replied. “If you want to continue with your training course, you need to take the white tablet inside the mask, and then put it on. It’s your choice.”
And there it was. The reason they would not let me take my car became abundantly clear. They wanted me in the dark. If I should escape, I would be in the middle of God knows where, completely disorientated, and most likely naked.
Wondering what the hell I was letting myself in for, I sighed and placed the single white tablet in my mouth. Taking a large gulp of water from the bottle that had been placed in the seat pocket in front of me, I then put the large black rubber mask over my eyes. My world was without colour once again. Not that it had been any other way since Kiel’s death.
Ten minutes later, I felt wonderfully calm and relaxed, and that confirmed what I had already guessed. I’d been given a sedative. Soon, blissful oblivion would consume me, and for that I could be grateful. Several days without sleep had begun to take its toll, and at least I would arrive well rested.
I couldn’t help but wonder if this is what had rattled Janice. She was a control freak of the grandest order, and she wouldn’t have thought much about being drugged and dumped into the middle of nowhere. Still, she’d made it through the first two days, so that couldn’t have been it. As she was one of our top operatives, I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d done to her. She was a tough one to crack, so it must have been something good.
Having already decided that I had to make it through at least a week, I knew that I was in for a rough time of it, especially if this journey was anything to go by. My pride wouldn’t let me go home before the week was out, though, and I fully intended to take everything they threw at me. The alternative was going back to Cellular Operations with my tail between my legs. Miss Sharkey would probably punish me for failure by giving me another six weeks of filing duties. I shuddered through eyelids that were so heavy they dragged themselves down my face and begged to be closed. I didn’t see the point in fighting it. Let’s face it - how bad could kinky sex be? The last thing I remembered was my head lolling to the side as I surrendered to the darkness.
The next thing I knew I was being roughly shaken awake. The driver had already removed my mask and unfastened my seat belt, but opening my eyes through the mire of sludge that the sedative had left proved difficult.
“Wakey, wakey, rise and shine,” he said unhelpfully.
Stumbling from the car, it was to find my little red carryall had already been dumped on the gravel. I was in a circular driveway of what must have been a ten or eleven bedroom Elizabethan manor house. It was covered from top to bottom with intricate woodwork patterns, forming squares and stars for the most part. The dark timber created a startling effect against the white paintwork, and the leaded windows reflected the light in dazzling diamonds. For a moment I felt like I had been catapulted through time several hundred years. My attention was diverted from the house for a moment, distracted by the roar of an engine and the squeal of tires as my taxi driver sped down the tree-lined drive behind me. I shook my head. What was with the cloak and dagger stuff? Weren’t we the good guys? Rolling my eyes, I picked up my holdall and headed up the stone steps towards the massive front door. Made of solid dark timber, there was a big, circular, cast-iron knocker to the right, and I banged upon it as loud as I could. Then I waited. Standing there like a moron, shielding my eyes against the sun as I looked around for signs of life, it was beginning to look like there was nobody home. Great. Here I was, stranded in the middle of nowhere, no cell phone, no money, no water or food, and no ride home. This was not a particularly great start. Pressing my nose up to one of the windows, I tried to peer in, but they were darkly tinted and gave me only shapes and lines of what promised to be lurking inside. Swearing, I grabbed hold of the knocker again and tried to punch a hole through the damn door. That received just as much attention as my first attempt. Letting out the gigantic huff of breath I’d been holding, I flung my bag down and took a seat on the steps. I would just have to wait. There wasn’t really another option. It was unlikely the idiots would have dropped me off at the wrong house.
Unfortunately, I hadn’t been allowed to wear a watch, else I’d have set myself a certain amount of time to wait before trying to hitch hike my way back home. So my best bet was just to wait until I got bored, and then take it from there. I wasn’t worried about my ability to get myself home, but the effort involved would put a damper on the proceedings.
Letting my thoughts drift to James, which is where they always went when I had some free time these days, I imagined myself back on his spanking bench with my wrists and ankles back in leather cuffs. That was one of the reasons I wasn’t walking right now. I wanted to feel the bite of those cuffs restraining me once again and the thrill of being helpless and at the mercy of my tormentor. I found the role reversal it provided was refreshingly liberating. Oh, and I got off on a little bit of pain. There had been nothing James had done that I hadn’t enjoyed. Yes, he’d pushed me to my limit, but everything had been a unique mixture of pain and pleasure that messed with my head.
I was going to wait here a long time, I finally admitted to myself, because I desperately wanted to complete this assignment. The fleeting glance of submission I had been given at Elite Encounters had not been enough. I wanted more, and more was a beast that usually took a lot of slaking in my world.
The metallic voice that came out of nowhere made me jump. Score one for them. I hadn’t noticed any loudspeakers on my cursory evaluation. Turning around to stare at the door, which was still closed, I frowned, but then offered up a loud, “Yes.”
“Then you’ll need to get naked. After that, you can approach the door on all fours and wait.” There was a distinct click.
“Are you kidding? Anyone can see me out here. There is no way I’m getting naked in public.” I waited a minute or two for a response but the house was eerily silent. It appeared they wanted to play hardball.
“Can we compromise?” I yelled. “How about I get naked the moment I enter the house?” I’d decided to speak to the door in lieu of a face, and he wasn’t very talkative. He, if doors were male, held his silence for far longer than I could hold mine. “This is a joke, right? Someone please tell me this is a joke.” Alas, no one did. Sitting stubbornly on the steps, quietly fuming, I wondered just how much I wanted this gig, because I had a decision to make. It was either go home or get naked, and if this was the first hurdle that was facing me, the chances were it wouldn’t get any easier when I crawled through that door.
Let’s go home to Miss Sharkey, my subconscious snorted. Shall we tell her we didn’t even make it as far as Janice did?
Whoever the assholes were in this house, they’d better make damn sure I was restrained by the time they let me inside, else they’d be lucky if they retained the use of some of their more important limbs and organs. Still I waited. When my knees finally began to scream at the painful and unforgiving contact that they were getting from the stone slabs beneath me, I debated leaving. I thought long and hard about getting to my feet, turning around, putting my clothes back on, and getting the hell out of here, but I didn’t. Call it a stubborn streak. I refused to be bested by whoever was in that damn house, and now that I’d been made to suffer, I needed to see who was responsible for it. If need be, I’d wait here two damn days until someone let me in. That gave me pause for thought. Had Janice been left like this for two days? Is that why she gave up so quickly? Could I endure two days of this? My face fell. If this was my first taste of submission, it was going to hurt.