His Prisoner by Jesse Jordan (29)

Stephen

The Mediterranean is different than the Atlantic ocean, I think as I walk along the beach. It’s bluer, or at least more of that bright classic crayon blue that you imagine oceans to be when you’re a kid and you haven’t learned how different the sea can be from place to place.

The sun’s the same though, warm just like it is back home, and I try to let it ease away my frustrations as I try to figure out just how the fuck I got myself into this situation. One day on a new mission, and I’ve already gotten my head so fucked with that I don’t even know if my own partner is on the good side or the bad side of things.

Of course, according the Larissa, there is no such thing as the ‘good side of things,’ just differing shades of bad. But more than that, I keep thinking about her. Those eyes, that smooth, tight skin and voluptuous body that distracts me even when she’s pissed at me. I’ve never met a woman in my life that can make me so angry and yet I want her at the exact same time. Last night, when we were on her table fucking (another first for me, not having sex in a bed) all I wanted to do was drive her insane with my cock. I wanted to show her who was in charge, to make her give in to my wants and needs. I wanted….

I take a deep breath, admitting the truth. I wanted to spank her, to make her whine and squirm the way the German girl did when I was taking the crop to her. I wanted to hear her call me Master, the name dripping with want and need. I wanted her more and more, because it was the best, most earth shaking sex of my entire life.

And at the same time, talking with her this morning, I wanted to slap the hell out of her for a different reason. I wanted to tell her that I’m not some fucking pervert, turned on by handcuffs and leather and going to sex club to bind people up while two gay guys fuck in the background. I’m not like that. I’m fucking normal. I’m one of the good guys. Aren’t I?

I pick up a rock and throw it into the ocean, watching as it arcs against the bright blue to splash into the water out in front of me. The hard part is, I’ve always been turned on by violence. In high school, there was a reason I played defensive end in football even though I was a bit undersized at then a hundred and eighty five pounds. It was the one position where I could get into a collision, a fight, almost every snap of the ball. I wanted to dominate, to impose my will, and later on in college I got into jiu-jitsu for the exact same reason.

And Larissa brings out both sides of me. I want her, I want to dominate her. At the same time I can’t stand her and that arrogant, knowing little smirk, her comments about my private life that so true that I swear she’s talked to some of my former girlfriends. Then again, she’s gotten her hands on my CIA file, so maybe she has.

My phone rings, and I look down, wondering who it could be. A relieved smile comes when I see the number, and I pick up the call. “Hello Vic. Isn’t it still early in the morning your time?”

My sister laughs, and I can imagine her on the sofa, probably still in her short shorts and tank top just wrapping up a yoga session before going to work. “It’s not that much of a time difference, little brother. It’s about ten in the morning my time. What is it your time?”

I glance at my watch, which I made sure to adjust, and I’m surprised at how late it’s gotten. “Wow, it’s already five. So how are you doing?”

“Glad that I’m just a fashion consultant and not a designer,” Victoria says with a laugh. “I had two clients call to delay meetings because they’re so far behind on their lines for the winter shows that they’re not able to show me anything. So I had a few minutes, and I wanted to call my favorite guy. How’s Europe?”

“Not as much fun as you make it out to be,” I grumble, sitting down on the sand and pulling a rock out from under my butt to throw it out into the water. “My new partner is a total bitch.”

“Aww,” Victoria hums in sympathy. “I understand. They’re wired differently over there in Europe. Maybe it’s that stupid two twenty electricity or something. What’s so bad about her? I mean, what you can tell me.”

“Just...” I start, trying to figure out what I can tell Victoria without sounding like I’m whining or the details of what was the weirdest night of my life. “Well, first off, she took me to a sex club.”

“She WHAT?!?” Victoria asks, and I can hear her swing her legs off her desk. She must be at the office. “Some slut took my man to a sex club? What the fuck did she do that for?”

“She… Victoria, the people I’m going after this time, they’re some bad people. The stuff that they’re mixed up in, a lot of it is sexual, and my partner thought that maybe by going there, I could start to understand the scenario around here better,” I sort of half lie. I mean, there is that, but also Larissa’s intense interest in opening my eyes, and then the mindblowing fuck in the kitchen. Yeah, not for my sister to hear about. “These people Vic, they’re pretty monstrous, the way my partner describes them.”

I can hear Victoria breathing hard through her nose on the other side of the phone, and she only does that when she’s pissed off. At least that I can understand. Finally, she talks again, sounding at least a little more calm on the surface. “Okay, I guess I can see that. That’s another thing different about the Euros, they treat sex a lot differently than Americans. But these people you’re trying to find, they’re that bad, huh?”

“That bad,” I confirm. “Victoria, the pictures I saw… what they did to that poor girl is sickening. And someone actually got their rocks off from it. I guess that’s part of it too, you know? Spies, intelligence gathering, all that is something I can understand. But these guys… they’re not monstrous. They are monsters.”

“And that’s why I’m here, little brother,” Victoria says, her voice soft and reassuring. “I’d fight the monsters for you if I could, but I’m just a woman. So instead, I stay here and hope that you stay safe, and when you come home I’m going to be here to hold you and soothe away your worries and fears. Don’t worry about that.”

I laugh, feeling better. “You know Victoria, you’re too good to me. How’d I get such a good big sister?”

“You just got lucky,” Victoria says lightly. “Face it Stephen, I’m the best girl in the world for you.”

“Yeah well, too bad you’re my sister then,” I remind her, still feeling better. “I’m going to have to give you up to some special man some day.”

“Never, you’re my guy forever,” Victoria says with a laugh. “Seriously, don’t worry. You got a little shell shocked, I had that happen to me my first modeling trip to Europe. Shake it off, and you’ll be just fine.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Find some normal people to remind me what life is supposed to be like,” I reply, wondering why I didn’t think of it earlier.

Victoria hums happily, and I can imagine her smiling. “That’s my guy. Okay, well… I see one of my clients trying to call me on the voice chat, so I got to get some work done. Pay the bills, bring home the bacon, stuff like that. Gimmie a call when you can, okay little brother?”

“I will. Love ya, Vic,” I say, hanging up the call and feeling at least a little bit better. Victoria’s right, I just need to get my mind out of the gutter, go find someplace where real people spend time and not just a bunch of freaks who get off from riding crops and being tied up. Even if at least one of those freaks has violet eyes, soft skin, and….

Fuck. I need a drink badly.

I start off, looking for something, and I see what looks like a resort up ahead. It’s not much, even if the sign out front calls it five star, but the hotel is close to the beach, and the sign out front says that it has a night club. I might as well use these new threads that I got yesterday. It might be a bit early, but it's still a resort, the party has to be going all the time.

I go into the club, seeing that it’s actually busier than I thought it would be. I guess that while Kalamata’s a pretty city, the nightlife isn’t much for the tourist trade. I head to the bar, where the bartender looks me over. “What you drink?”

Okay, at least he speaks a little English. “Ah… you know a margarita?” I ask on a silly whim, and the bartender gives me a thumbs up. “One margarita then.”

“No tequila. Rum okay?” he asks, and it’s my turn to give him a thumbs up. He turns around to make the drink and I turn to look at the club, which is playing Top 40, not too bad I guess. The dance floor has quite a few people on it, and I see a few pretty girls when the bartender puts my drink down in an old fashioned tall glass, and I hand over a ten euro note. Expense accounts are made for a reason.

I’m about halfway through my margarita when I sense her looking me over, and I glance over. She’s pretty, with long red hair that hangs most of the way to her waist with creamy pale skin that screams she’s got some Irish and of course, green eyes. She's even got a sprinkling of freckles, not too many but just a few, on her cheekbones, and plump red lips that don't need much lipstick at all. “Hello.”

“I saw ya over here, thought you might like some company,” she says, her accent definitely placing her in the Emerald Isle. “I’m Emma.”

“Stephen,” I reply, giving her an inviting smile. “And I’d love some company.”

Emma talks, and after a little while we go to dance as apparently her favorite song comes on. Whatever, I have no problem dancing to just about anything, but as we move on the dance floor, I can’t help but feel bored by this woman. She’s got a nice body, and her accent is sexy in it’s own way, but in listening to her talk about her job as an office worker in County Wicklow, I’m just bored out of my mind as she prattles on and on about inane bullshit.

“So what do you do?” Emma asks over my second margarita which she bought for me. “I feel like I’ve been talkin’ your ear off.”

“I’m a secret agent here on a dangerous and deadly mission in the service of my country and the safety of the free world,” I tell her, a line I’ve used before without fail. Nobody ever believes the truth. Emma is the same, laughing.

“Ach, you American men, always jokin’!” she says, giggling. “Well then Mr. Secret Agent Man, are you on the case now?”

“Of course. But I might be able to find some time for some relaxing activity,” I say, the implication clear. “It could be very dangerous though.”

“Mmm, dangerous can be exciting on the other hand,” Emma purrs, sliding closer to me and putting a hand on my thigh. “I canna know if I could handle such a situation.”

This is just too easy, and I’m bored already. I can tell she’s playing her little fantasy on her two week holiday before she goes back to County Wicklow and her nine to five job in the office answering phones and creating spreadsheets for her bosses. I wonder though… “Well, if you can’t, I might be very angry. I’d have to tie you down and spank you then, see if I could make your backside as red as that hair.”

Emma gulps, then shakes her head. “I’m sorry Stephen, I’m not into that sort of thing. I'm a good Irish girl.”

I shrug, and toss back the rest of my margarita. “Well, it's not everyone’s cup of tea. Listen, I think I’ll get going, it was nice meeting you, but perhaps better that we go our separate ways. Have a good holiday, Emma.”

“You too,” Emma says, swallowing nervously as I slide off the bar stool and head off into the now dark night. As I walk, I keep thinking that the whole time, what I wanted wasn’t Emma. She would have wilted underneath me, and I would have been bored, unfulfilled as I always am with sex partners. Well, except for one, who I want to fuck and want to tell to fuck off just about equally.

Two drinks isn’t a lot, and when I get back to Larissa’s townhouse, the key she gave me works and I head up to the penthouse, not feeling much more than a great desire for something more in my life than boring sex with office workers who can’t handle the full depths of what the little voice inside me that woke up last night wants to do.

The townhouse is dark when I get in, and I see on the fridge a note from Larissa. Had work I have to do. Went out to handle it. Help yourself to the red pot in the fridge, microwave is pretty strong so watch out for burns. L.

The one person I can think of who isn’t boring in this town, and she’s at work. I don't even know where her office is, she's got at least two clubs, maybe more. I sigh, and open the fridge, where I see the pot of what looks like beef stew but is probably lamb sits waiting for me.

Well, it’s better than nothing. And maybe Larissa’s got a book around here I can read before I go to bed.

* * *

I wake up before Larissa this morning at least, I have no idea what time it was when she got home, and she looks slightly surprised when I greet her with a cup of tea on the outdoor patio of the townhouse. “Well, I see you’re over your jet lag.”

“I adapt pretty quickly,” I agree, pouring her a cup of tea for herself. Maybe what we need is just a chance to reset, to try and approach this with calmer heads. “The girl, she doesn’t speak English, but I got the impression this is your type of tea?”

“That’s the British in me, I can’t start without a good cuppa,” Larissa agrees, inhaling deeply. “Mmm, heavenly. Thank you. So how was your day yesterday?”

“I did a lot of thinking… and a little more,” I admit, sipping at my own already half finished cup. “When your staff is gone, we can talk about it.”

The staff girl comes back, and Larissa gives her a few orders, gesturing to me a few times, and the girl nods, giving me a smile before disappearing inside. “What did you tell her?”

“To bring you a big breakfast,” Larissa says with a chuckle. “Elena’s a good girl, she knows that I’m in The Network but doesn’t quite know much more than that. Big heart though, and since what I pay her allows her to put her brother and sister through college, she’s very loyal.”

“Does she-?” I start to ask, and Larissa shakes her head.

“No. She knows I’m into it, I have a small area in the townhouse set aside here for personal use, but most of my fucking I do outside the house unless I'm training a new submissive. More convenient that way.”

Breakfast comes, and Larissa gives Elena a few more orders, which the girl takes in with a smile and a happy nod before leaving us again. “I told her to take the laundry with her to her home or a local laundromat and take the rest of the day off,” Larissa explains as I look over the monster breakfast. “So, think that’ll fill your stomach?”

“I think if I let Elena cook for me every day I’m going to gain twenty pounds before this is all over,” I say in amazement as we dig in. For a blissful ten minutes, there’s no sound other than spoons and forks scraping against plates, and when I finally push away, my stomach at least is satisfied completely.

“So… what did you think about?” Larissa asks after breakfast is finished and we clear the table. “I hope it was helpful.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “First off Larissa, I want to say I’m sorry for blowing up at you yesterday. I don’t know if you’re totally correct on what you said, but I am in no position to criticize you on anything. The fact is, you’ve been Deep Cover for nearly as long as I’ve been in the CIA, and that takes guts and brains. And if you’ve been chasing these people for years and you’re not able to get them, then I’ve got no chance without being willing to admit I don’t know everything and that I need to learn.”

Larissa studies me for a moment, then actually gives me a smile. It’s different than the smiles she’s given me before, which have always been challenging, teasing, or seductive. This is a different smile, and it stirs something inside me to see genuine pleasure on her face. “Thank you. For being strong enough to apologize, and for being strong enough to admit that you need to learn. Stephen, regardless of what we did, and like I said you’re a great fuck, there’s more you need to learn. It’s not about getting your rocks off, it’s about a mindset, a freeing of your true self.”

I nod, thinking for a minute. “Last night, there was this girl. Irish chick, I could have had her. But then I just realized that it would have been boring. Ha, maybe I just was too picky since I’d just gotten… well, you already know you’re a great fuck too.”

Larissa actually looks like she blushes for a moment, and I wonder why, then she smirks. “Yeah well, I can’t exactly teach you while you’ve got your cock jammed inside me, so most of the time I’m going to be standing aside and watching, giving you guidance while you work with some of my girls. So after sampling the best, you’re going to have to train with the rest. Top flight, but still the rest.”

“When do we begin?”

Larissa laughs, holding up a hand. “Slow down there Mr. Eager, it’s still far too early in the morning for any of my girls to be up, the earliest we can do any in person training is this afternoon. So relax, and maybe let your balls build up a little go juice some. We’ll talk throughout the day, you need to understand some ideas before I let you really work with any of my girls live. You’ll still have time to do whatever you need to do, you strike me as the type to do some daily physical training yourself. Am I correct?”

“Of course. Do you have a place you use, or are you all bodyweight stuff?” I ask, and Larissa shakes her head.

“I’ll take you to the place I use later. First, let’s talk BDSM. What do you know about it?”

I think, then shrug. “Beyond the pure basics, not much. I mean, I saw in the club, there’s tying up, someone’s in charge, the other’s taking it, but I don’t know a lot. I can guess that the image in the average media sucks considering how much they fuck up the CIA.”

Larissa chuckles. “Yeah, they make it seem a lot more and a lot less all the time, don’t they? And you have some right ideas, some wrong. First off, the titles. There’s three types of people, a dominant, a submissive, and a switch. Very few people are pure one or the other, but still a lot of people will tend to one side.”

“So which are you? I mean, I’m guessing after that everyone at the club called you Mistress you’re dominant?” I ask, and Larissa shakes her head. “Really?”

Larissa shrugs. “Just like how professionally I’m technically bisexual, professionally I am almost always dominant, but personally, I’m both mostly straight and I have no problems being submissive for the right partner, so I’m for sure a switch. But it has to be the right partner.”

“Why?” I ask, wondering how this powerful, sensual woman would ever let herself be tied up the way that I saw that girl Claudia being. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, but you’re a brothel owner...”

“Club owner,” Larissa corrects me, and I nod. “Clubs, actually.”

“Sorry, club owner. A MI6 agent, a Deep Cover operative, and let’s not mention Network capo. I don’t know you well enough to say for sure, but that takes a very strong person. But you… you enjoy being submissive sometimes?” I ask as I look over at the curvy beauty across from me. Her words are both confusing and arousing, because inside me my memories of us having sex right here in this dining room keep playing in my mind, overlaying with what I saw in the club before that. To see those violet eyes open and trusting, begging me to fuck her, to smack those breasts and to make it hurt the way she wants… my cock stirs, and I’m glad the table’s made of wood instead of glass.

Larissa chuckles. “I can read your mind, Stephen. And yes, I do enjoy being submissive sometimes. You have to understand something that a friend and I discovered. He calls it his mini-philosophy, and I’ll admit, I borrowed it from him the first time he told it to me. It is in my weakness that I find my strength.”

I blink, confused. “In your weakness you find your strength?”

Larissa nods, saying nothing and letting me try and figure it out for myself. For at least two minutes I think, but I still can’t wrap my head around it. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get it. I guess I need more experience, or something.”

“That’s exactly what you need. That you understand that at least means you have a chance to actually learn. And don’t worry, when you understand it, you’ll be ready to find the men who killed Chastity Hendricks. In the meantime, go change for a workout, I’ll wash the plates up and then we can go work up an honest sweat before you get to work up a different kind of sweat.”

Larissa

The club is quieter this time when Stephen and I arrive, it’s still early enough that most of the customers won’t arrive for another hour or more. Besides, it’s a weekday, and very few of the locals come to my club when they have to go to work the next day.

“Mistress Dryad,” the doorman greets me again, this time in English for Stephen’s benefit. He looks over Stephen, then waves him through without a frisk and grope this time. I wasn’t pleased last time when Damon got an extra little feel in on Stephen, and to be honest with myself I’m not too sure why. It was a good quick test to see how Stephen would handle the new world that he’s in, but still I felt a flash of anger to think of my doorman grabbing Stephen’s junk before I did.

“Well, I got through that without being molested,” Stephen jokes as we enter the club. He’s dressed perfectly, a slim fitting charcoal gray suit, white shirt with blue tie, and I have to admit he looks more handsome than ever. Of course, I have to admit that at least part of that feeling comes from taking Stephen to my little fitness room in the basement of my building, where I found myself both distracted and showing off for him with some of my poses and personal exercises that keep me in tip-top sensual shape.

“Damon knows you, there’s no need to go through all the bullshit,” I tell Stephen as we approach the door to the back room. “You didn’t come here before, but this is one of the private training rooms. I don’t have many here, most of my customers either can’t afford it or they like doing their work publicly. My submissive club has a lot more, most of the paying customers there prefer it.”

“Hmmm,” Stephen says, a constant comment he’s made whenever I’ve dropped some knowledge for him. I like it, it’s showing me that he’s not jumping to conclusions. I haven’t laid out the path totally clearly for him, I want him to really understand. And, I have to admit, I want him to embrace it as well. I don’t know why, just a feeling.

I open the door and lead Stephen through, where the girl I chose for him is already waiting, dressed just like I asked. “You’re not Claudia.”

Lihua springs her first little surprise for Stephen when she answers back in her lilting, soft Chinese voice, and Stephen’s face breaks out in a smile and he replies in Chinese himself. He turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “Did you do this on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” I admit with a smile. “Lihua is another one of my best girls, in a totally different way from Claudia. She doesn’t like whips, but instead… well, how about you tell him, Lihua?”

“Yes Mistress,” Lihua replies in perfect Australian English. “If the sir likes, I very much enjoy being bound and spanked.”

“And where did you learn Australian?” Stephen asks, sitting down next to Lihua. “Or am I going where I shouldn’t?”

Lihua’s smile changes, and I feel another little stab of jealousy. Stephen’s charming, and with one question he’s already started to get this beautiful girl to open up to him. It’s both encouraging and frustrating at the same time. “I spent half of my childhood in Adelaide, sir, and the other half in Hong Kong.”

“It’s enchanting on you,” Stephen says, stroking her cheek with one finger. “And you want to help me learn?”

Lihua nods eagerly, looking up at me. “I was highly honored when Mistress Dryad chose me for this task. To serve her so well… I love my Mistress.”

I smile, reaching out and pulling her to her feet and brushing a lock of hair out of her face. “How many times must I tell you, Lihua? You may serve me, but I will not love you. Not in that way.”

“I know,” Lihua says, her eyes still full of devotion, “but that’s okay. I know that if it becomes time for me to go to my permanent Master, you will let me, and until then, I serve you.”

Stephen watches our little side conversation intently, and I turn to him, seeing that he’s still learning, and starting to understand a little. “I will watch, like last time. And I will be a safety. Still, Lihua will have a safety word. If she says ‘Mockingbird,’ you must immediately stop everything and release her.”

“And if I don’t?” Stephen asks, not threateningly but curiously. Still, I answer for Lihua’s benefit as much as his, drawing from one sleeve of my dress one of the knives that I've secreted on myself.

“Then I will kill you,” I reply simply before setting the knife on the arm of my chair. “Lihua is my property, my girl. I will not let anyone violate the trust she has placed in my hands.”

Stephen nods in understanding, then looks at Lihua. “You got very lucky.”

“I know sir,” Lihua says, putting her hands behind her back. “Shall we begin, sir?”

“Take off your top, but leave the skirt on,” Stephen commands, and Lihua jumps to obey. Stephen’s tone is commanding but gentle, pure iron and velvet, and the personal side of me wants to obey him even as I step back and force myself to sit down in my chair on the side of the room, watching as Stephen has Lihua first strip herself down to just her short skirt before having her take off his jacket, tie and shirt, hanging them up in the proper places on the wall.

“And your trousers, sir?”

Stephen looks down, and shakes his head. “No… that I’ll do myself. When you’re ready for it.”

Lihua smiles again, and again I feel a flash of jealousy. Stephen’s a natural, offering her a tiny reward for good service, along with a promise of further pleasures if she is good. His strength is there, but he doesn’t need to show it off. Lihua steps back and waits for Stephen, and he goes over to the bed, where the tools for today’s training are laid out, a single cord that Stephen runs through his fingers. “It’s soft leather. Braided.”

“Yes sir, I prefer leather over other cords,” Lihua says, taking it and kneeling on the bed. She stops, and Stephen glances back at me.

“You’re doing fine,” I advise, my voice a bit huskier than I imagined. “Tie her hands behind her back. Lihua can show you how she likes it.”

Lihua smiles and puts her hands just where she prefers, forearm to forearm and her hands cupping her own elbows. She’s a lot more flexible than some women, but still Stephen is careful as he wraps her wrists, pulling the cord tight but not too tight, and never dragging it across the girl’s soft skin to burn. Lihua moans happily as Stephen tugs the knot tight, and tests his bond. “Mmmm… sir, thank you.”

“Thank you,” Stephen says, and I can see the bulge growing in his suit pants as he steps back and studies the now bound girl. Her ass is just peeking out from under her skirt as she bends over, offering herself to him, and he studies her golden tan skin. “You shave. Most Asian girls don’t.”

“I like the feel of the air on my lips, sir,” Lihua explains. “Do you like it?”

“You are very beautiful,” Stephen acknowledges, running his hand over Lihua’s perfectly curved posterior. He measures, teasing Lihua with his fingers and palm before lifting his hand up and pausing for a second before the first slap cracks through the room, and Lihua gasps. My pussy moistens as well as I watch Stephen start to spank the girl, her moans and gasps of pleasure filling the space until there’s a little sweat on my forehead, and I’m jealous of Lihua again.

He knows just how far to push her, how hard to smack, how much time to pause so that the sting fades and all that’s left is the heat. He pushes her, but not too hard, backing off just the right amount to let her adjust to his power and desire. Lihua’s nearly incoherent, her ass flaming red and her pussy leaking down her inner thighs as Stephen moves to the backs of her legs and back up, this time rubbing after every strike, his fingers stroking over her pussy lips so that Lihua’s pushing back into his hand, begging and sobbing in need. Her English fails her and she’s calling, begging him in Chinese, and even though I don’t know the language, I can guess what she’s saying. Fuck her, let her come, please.

Stephen slides two fingers inside her and curls them, Lihua crying out as he begins to finger fuck her, pumping his digits in and out of her sopping wet pussy. He says something in Chinese, and I’m shocked when Lihua responds, nodding her head and smiling as Stephen inserts a third finger, stretching the girl out more, and then a fourth. I can’t help it, I interject. “You’re going to fist her?”

Stephen stops, looking back at me, and in his eyes I see the desire and fire that immediately has my nipples tight in my top and my body wanting to be where Lihua is. He’s waking up, and with every second his power is calling out to me more. “She wants it. I asked her what she desired, and she begged me for it.”

I nod, watching in shock as Lihua screams in pain and pleasure as Stephen slips his entire hand inside her tiny pussy, stretching her grotesquely and pumping his whole hand in and out of her overtaxed body. I see Lihua’s hands clench and her eyes roll back, and I almost stop them I’m so jealous and angry that Stephen's doing this to my Lihua, and that she's getting to experience this while I'm sitting in a chair unable to do nothing but offer commentary. But while I don’t love Lihua like she loves me I am good to her, and I let Stephen keep pumping, his hand moving faster and faster, rotating as he introduces her to something I’ve never even suspected the girl could take, pushing her farther than even I ever dared. Lihua’s body clenches, and suddenly she screams, a scream of pure ecstasy and joy that stabs me in the heart because I’ve never made a sound like that before.

Stephen freezes, letting Lihua ride out her orgasm with his total reassurance that he has her, that she’s safe and protected as he places his free hand comfortingly on her back, stroking the soft skin and letting her recover. Slowly, he pulls his now glistening hand and wrist out of her, his pants tented and a small wet stain where his precum has already soaked the fabric. My own panties are soaked, and Lihua’s looking at Stephen with a devotion in her eyes that is nearly as deep as her devotion to me. “Sir… it’s your turn.”

“I don’t think so, Lihua,” Stephen says, not roughly but with command and finality in his voice. He reaches down and undoes the knot on her wrists, and loosens her bonds to let her finish freeing herself later. “Thank you for teaching me. You were a very good girl.”

Lihua blushes, and says something in Chinese that makes Stephen’s face cloud, and he replies to her with just a hint of roughness in his voice. Lihua’s face falls, but he continues, and she swallows, nodding. “Yes sir. You’re right, sir.”

“I’m going to go,” he says, ignoring me and going to his clothes on the wall. He gets dressed silently while Lihua finishes freeing herself, and by the time she’s finished he’s got his clothes on again, pointedly not looking at me until the end. He goes to the door, then turns his head to look at me. “I’ll see you at the townhouse later.”

He doesn’t ask permission, he just leaves, pissing me off and turning me on at the same time. I’m held in my chair by some unknown force as the door closes, and I turn to look at Lihua, who lays on the bed, her eyes still having the thousand yard stare of utter amazement. I go over, sitting next to her and stroking her sweaty brow. “You were wonderful, Lihua. I don’t need to ask if it was good.”

Lihua blinks, a tear coming to her eye as she shakes her head. “Mistress… I’m so sorry.”

“For what, my little flower?” I ask. “Something you said in Chinese?”

She nods, wiping at her face. “Mistress… at the end, I called him Master. He corrected me very strongly. I’m sorry. I was just… I wanted him to give me his cock, and I was so moved. He’s perfect.”

I shake my head, leaning over and kissing Lihua on the forehead. “If he turned down your offer to fuck you, he's far from perfect. But what did he say?”

“He said that I already have a Mistress, and that I should remember to honor you first. He said that he’s not my Master.”

I smile, patting Lihua on the side of the face. “He’s right, you know. But it’s okay, I forgive you. In the future, you can call him Mister Stephen. For now, recover. Take the night off, and you have my gratitude, Lihua.”

Lihua nods, my reassurance and her exhaustion combining to make her yawn. “Apologies, Mistress.”

“None needed,” I tell her, reaching across her lean, wiry body to get the light blanket at the foot of the bed. I spread it over her, and kiss her forehead one more time. “Rest. Sleep. I must go, but relax. I’ll take care of you.”

Lihua yawns again, and smiles the soft little smile that first touched me enough to bring her into my club. “Yes Mistress.”

I wait until Lihua’s asleep before I get up and leave, my mind whirling. My body knows what it wants, and as I take the binding cord and put it away, I can’t help but run it through my own fingers, shivering as I imagine myself in Lihua’s position, at Stephen’s mercy as he spanks me, fists me… and fucks me. Never have I seen a man so skilled so quickly. Lihua called him perfect, and he nearly was. The only disappointment, and what led Lihua to making her big mistake, was in denying her his cock, which worries me as well.

I take my time going home, doing some Network equivalent of paperwork in my office in the back of the club. We might be criminals, but any organization with over twenty territories and thousands of members has to have some sort of paperwork to keep track of what’s going on. Going over numbers and figures helps me calm down some, but still as I do my work I’m distracted again and again by my body’s desire.

Finally, as the clock on the wall chimes that it’s eight o’clock, I shut down the computer and pull the data stick, driving home. When I get there, I see that Stephen’s already come back and changed, wearing just the workout shorts that he wore earlier. “I put the suit pants in for dry cleaning.”

“I can understand that,” I reply, setting my purse down on the table and coming over in front of him. “Why didn’t you fuck her?”

“Lihua?” Stephen asks, and I see that his arrogance is back. “I don’t know why.”

“Bullshit!” I yell. “And don’t give me any shit about how she’s some sort of whore! Lihua’s a good girl, and she begged for you to fuck her because she wanted it, not because she’s getting paid! My God, you did things to that girl that nobody’s ever done, and she fucking loved it!”

“I don’t fuck for money! And I certainly don’t fuck on command or for my life!” Stephen yells back, getting to his feet. “I fuck who I want to, when I want to, and how I fucking want to!”

“You might not always have that option,” I fume, poking him in the chest. “If we have to infiltrate a sex club owned by the Circle, you might have to fuck for your life. You go into one of those places to find your target, you might have to fuck a girl, a man, a grandmother or worse. You think you’re just going to be able to pull your alpha male schtick and fucking walk out of those places? You’ll be dead before you can get your fucking tie on.”

“Have you?” Stephen asks, his voice quiet but intense. “Have you fucked because it was your life or your job?”

“What do you fucking think?” I growl back. “You think I wanted to fuck that seventy year old man that I killed two years ago? Or the company president so I could get access to his finances? Most of my life I’ve had to fuck for my life, MI6 or Network or not!”

“Is that what this is?” Stephen asks, getting up and in my face. “Fuck or die?”

“It could be,” I threaten. “But I’m going to help you.”

This time, it’s me who jumps into Stephen’s arms, kissing him hard and running my hands over his chest. He resists me, pushing me away for a moment before grabbing me by the wrist and pulling me with him. “Not here.”

Stephen drags me, literally, to my guest bedroom that he’s using, throwing open the door and shoving me across to land on the bed. The mattress hits me in the legs and I’m bent over, and I freeze, looking back at him. “Well?”

Stephen stops and grabs my pants, yanking them down and exposing my ass to the air, my panties still wet and the scent of my arousal filling the room quickly as he squeezes and rubs, my ass warming and I moan thickly. “Mmmm, fuck you’re good.”

“Now this is something I could fuck,” he growls, pinning me to the bed with his body. I can feel his cock pressing against my ass, and a thrill goes through me. Could he be...?

“Please...” I moan, shocking myself. When was the last time I asked for anything in bed? “Spank me?”

Stephen licks my ear, a hot thrill running through me as his tongue traces the curve, and he chuckles. “No. I’m the one in charge.”

He slides down my body, kneeling behind me and pulling my panties down, and suddenly he buries his face in my ass, his tongue finding my pussy and licking me deeply. My knees buckle it feels so good, and I hold onto the bed as best I can while Stephen’s long tongue slides between my wet folds, scooping my essence out into his mouth and setting my nerves on fire. So many of the men I seduce want to lick my pussy, and most of them are terrible at it, but Stephen’s an artist from the first touch, his tongue twisting and stroking inside me while his hot mouth sucks on my outer lips. The hungry, starving noises he’s making drive me wild as he devours me, eating me up from the pussy all the way to explode in my brain as pure ecstasy.

“Stephen… please,” I moan, finding the word feeling right on my lips. “Oh fuck yes….”

“Come on my lips,” he commands, and I groan harshly in reply. He dives back in, his tongue finding my clit while his nose rubs against my pussy and I gasp, clawing at the bed sheets and feeling the heat building inside me. The tip of his tongue flutters against my clit and I’m pushed over the edge, pushing back into his face and soaking his lips with my juices. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over me as I come, and still Stephen keeps licking, scooping up my wetness and swallowing it like it was fine wine.

When I collapse into the bed I think that he’s done, he’s going to walk out like he did with Lihua, but then I hear the sound of his shorts hit the floor and I look back, smiling happily as his huge cock juts out from between his legs, hard as a rock and ready for what it wants.

And what he wants is me. I grin, looking back at him. “How do you want me?”

Stephen reaches forward and grabs my hair, yanking me back and pulling my upper body off the bed. “I want you the way I tell you,” he growls in my ear again as he reaches around with his free hand and grabs the buttons on my blouse. He yanks, and my five hundred euro Fendi is reduced to a rag in a single instant. I don’t care, I just want the heat of his lips on my neck and the feel of his hand mauling my breasts, pulling them out of my bra to squeeze them tightly before cupping them, pinching my nipples until I’m whining as the first tendrils of real pain go with the white hot pleasure that fills my body. “Now bend the fuck over.”

I immediately obey him, bending over even as his left hand grabs my throat, stopping me where he wants to have me. I feel his cock press against my still pulsing, twitching pussy, and he thrusts hard, both of us crying out as his hips slam into my ass and his cock fills my already quivering body.

“I take what I want, when I want from you,” Stephen commands as his cock pulls back and he thrusts in again, his hips smacking against my ass and his fingers twitching on my throat, my life literally in his hands as he fucks me hard. “Arrogant Euro bitch.”

I gasp, helpless and caught as he hammers my pussy from behind, my breasts just brushing against the surface of the bed as they shake and jiggle from each of his thrusts, hard and fast and huge inside me. I can’t believe how perfect he feels, and my body asks my brain a simple question. Where has this man been all my life?

His cock drives into me again and again, his endurance and power superhuman as he pushes my body higher and higher, harder than anyone’s tried in years. His hand relaxes a little, and he stops, turning me over to pin me to the bed underneath him again and he looks into my eyes. There’s still the dominating man there that held me helpless in his hand, but in the back of my mind something else whispers. Before it can complete a thought I feel myself clenching again, and Stephen leans in, kissing me hard as his cock swells, and he drives in one last time, his cock exploding deep inside me and I come too, clutching at his arms as our mouths swallow each other’s moans, and I feel grayness creep into the edges of my vision.

I’ve never felt this satisfied before, even when I would take myself to the edge with my toys, and as I relax and hold Stephen close, he rolls to the side, his hands stroking my hair and cupping my hip as I wiggle, relishing the feeling of his cock still inside me. “Better now?”

Stephen chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “Maybe. If you want to really know… the reason I didn’t fuck Lihua is because I wanted to fuck you instead.”

I hum, and for some reason hug him. “I’m honored. Speaking of her, she wants to call you Mister Stephen if she sees you again. You moved her pretty deeply.”

“Yeah, I have that effect on people I guess,” he jokes, and I chuckle, snuggling against him. We lay like that for a half hour, and as I hear his heart beat in his chest I feel a sense of utter and total physical contentment. He was rough but gentle, pushing me but not crossing the line, and the way I came… whoo boy.

Still, the analytical part of my mind is frustrated. I challenged him to spank me, and he should have been willing to turn my ass cherry red with an offer like that. Instead, he passed up to eat my pussy, which isn’t a bad thing, but it isn’t quite the standard ‘domination.’ He was in charge the whole time, there was nothing I could have done to stop Stephen even if I wanted to, but still, is he really getting the point of the lesson?

Stephen

“I know that it’s been a few days, but you gotta realize Penny, the people we might be going after are experts at this. Larissa’s been trying to get to these guys for years, and she’s only got whispers and low level people to point me in the direction of. You can't expect me to put a body on a slab this quickly.”

I run my hand through my hair, frustrated as on the other end of the video chat, Penny shakes her head. “Stephen, I understand that, but this isn’t a normal op. The White House and the Pentagon both are breathing down the Director’s neck. Chastity was buried today, and every day that she’s in the ground without us having some names that we can pin her death on means another degree they turn up the heat on the Director.”

“And shit rolls downhill,” I grumble. “White House pressures the Director, he pressures you, and you get to put the screws to me.”

“Exactly,” Penny says before suddenly chuckling. “When did you get a sense of humor?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, leaning back. “I just said the truth.”

“You did, but when you left Langley you would have just taken it and glowered at me since the rules say that you’re not supposed to bitch about being bitched out,” Penny says. “I like the improvement. Keep it up, but get me some results too.”

She cuts the call and I shut down my computer, leaving Larissa’s study to find her in the living room, working on her own work, MI6 or Network I don’t know. My cock twitches fondly at the memories of her underneath me, and the display of cleavage she’s giving me in her low cut blouse certainly helps too.

“My bosses want progress,” I interrupt, sitting down in the chair across from her. “And unfortunately, personal development isn’t going to cut it.”

“I assume they think you’re going to find these people before the next three day holiday?” Larissa asks, not looking up from her computer. “Did you explain to them that I’ve been trying to find these assholes too, and not just fucking my way around the world?”

“They don’t care,” I tell her, shaking my head. “Apparently they’ve got political pressure to wrap this up.”

“The last people that need to be involved in any sort of operation are politicians,” Larissa gripes, clicking her mouse one more time before closing her laptop. “You’re not ready yet.”

Her tone piques me, and I take a moment to squeeze the arm on my chair before answering. “Maybe I’m not, but I don’t have a choice. I need to start looking into the Circle.”

Larissa mutters something in Greek, and I glare at her. “What was that?”

“I said you bloody fucking Americans never have the fucking patience to do things the right way,” Larissa grumbles, then takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, not you. Just your government. There’s a time to put boots to asses, and there’s a time to proceed with caution. Unfortunately for your government, they still haven’t figured out exactly when those times are, and they want to go in John Wayne-ing shit far too often. You go after the Circle like a cowboy, and they’ll disappear like dust in the breeze.”

“So come with me,” I return. “Larissa, I’m not stupid enough to say that I can do this myself, I never expected to. I don’t speak Greek, first off. That alone tells me that the CIA didn’t exactly think this shit through when they sent me. I don’t know the Circle, I don’t know where these assholes are, and I know that I’m not ready. So come with me. Be my guide, be my partner, be the person who helps me take care of some real evil. You said it yourself, this isn’t cultural differences, or any of that shit. What they did to Chastity Hendricks was evil. I’ve stayed up nights ever since I saw those photos, unable to sleep well. About the only two nights I have slept well is after you and I have fucked. So thank you for that at least. But Larissa, I know I need more. I need your help to find and take these guys out.”

Larissa nods, and thinks. “Okay. I’ll send some messages to people I know in The Network, covering for why I’m going with you. I know where we can start, we’ll take your rented car. We hit the road in two hours.”

I’m surprised by how quickly Larissa agrees, and I take a minute to calm down before speaking again. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Larissa says as she types on her computer, sending whatever messages she needs to send. “I’m doing this for a few reasons myself. I told you, the first person I ever killed was the bastard who wanted to rape me when I was just eight. And I’ve seen things since then, most done by the Circle, that’s robbed me of sleep too. Maybe I’m a hypocrite considering what The Network does, but I’m hunting these assholes for me. Not for Chastity Hendricks, and certainly not because the CIA wants it.”

“As long as you’re with me, I’m good with that,” I say, getting up. “I’m going to pack a bag. By the way, you still haven’t shown me where you keep the guns.”

“Before we leave.”

* * *

Corinth is about half the size of Kalamata, and as we approach it while the sun sets, I look around. “Why would the Circle be in such a small city?”

“It’s a major industrial hub for Greece, and it sits on the choke point of the entire country,” Larissa replies. “Like your North and South, there’s some regional tensions between the Peloponnese South and the Attic mainland. It stretches all the way back to Athens and Sparta, and hasn’t really stopped since. Accents are different, politics is different, all of that. Corinth is sort of a Mason-Dixon line, and the place where a group can disappear quickly and be able to influence the entire country. There’s so many different ways that the Circle can disappear from here, it’s impossible to surround them. Hunting in this area will be difficult.”

We drive towards the western shore, the Corinthian area covers the entire isthmus, approaching a resort casino. “Pretty out in the open, aren’t they?”

“This is just the first step,” Larissa says. “There’s a club that isn’t listed in the resort brochure that we can find some people who can point us in the right direction.”

We go through the resort, where a small black door opens to a nightclub that, while nowhere near as intense as Larissa’s clubs, is certainly not your typical nightclub. On the dance floor I can see couples of all sorts grinding on each other, and more than a few of them are feeling on each other, with hands up skirts, down pants, or inside of tops.

“Your kind of place,” I joke, and Larissa shoots me an evil look. “What?”

“I’m not all about sex, you know,” Larissa says. “I happen to enjoy quiet nights on the sofa by the fire when I visit my home in the UK. Here’s who we’re here to see.”

The man that Larissa indicates is sitting at one of tables around the club, a trio of scantily dressed girls fawning over him. He’s easily three hundred pounds at maybe five six, and the way his chest hair dominates the V of his shirt makes me think of a dime store pimp or eighties porn star. With thick lips, a bushy if at least trimmed mustache, and huge acne scars dominating his face, he’s ugly as sin too. “Why the fuck do you want to talk to this guy?”

“First step in the chain,” Larissa says quietly. “I can’t stand the fucker either. Here we are, play it sort of nice.”

Larissa takes the one empty seat at the table, and I see two men who are behind the fat man start forward before he lifts a hand and they stop. “Lady Dyrad, a pleasure to see you in my club,” the fat man says, pushing one of the girls off his massive lap. She pouts, and he smacks her on the ass underneath her micro-schoolgirl skirt, making her yelp. “Bitches, leave.”

The girls move off, leaving Larissa, the fat man and I at the table. He looks at me, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s your big friend?”

“Someone interested in finding someone,” Larissa says. “We need to talk privately, Kallistos.”

“And why should I?” Kallistos says. “Last time you were in my club, you threw a drink in my face.”

“And last time I was in your club, you tried to grab my tits,” Larissa responds calmly. “Be glad I didn’t break your fingers. But you want to know why… how about if you don’t, I bring my people in here. You lose your little freelance status, and Corinth becomes my town as much as Kalamata is. We talk, or I hold on all of the Peloponnese. Your choice, Kallistos.”

Kallistos swallows, then picks up a glass from the table, downing the rest of it in one gulp. “Some ouzo?” he offers, and Larissa nods while I shake my head. “What’s his problem, doesn’t drink?”

“Not with people I don’t trust,” I interject, and Kallistos shrugs.

“I should be offended. But since you’re with your… friend, I’ll let it pass for now,” he says, turning and snapping his fingers. A fresh bottle of the Greek alcohol is brought over, and he picks it up. “In my office?”

“Let’s walk instead,” Larissa says. “It’ll do your health some good.”

“The three girls that I sent away were better for my health,” he says, heaving his bulk up still. “I assume you want just the three of us?”

“Bring one of your boys, but just one,” Larissa says nonchalantly. “I won’t ask if he’s armed.”

“Just like I know it is worthless to ask if you are,” Kallistos replies. “So ocean or streets?”

“Streets. I hate the sand at night,” Larissa says. “And it's quieter anyway.”

We leave the club and turn north along the street that parallels the ocean, walking silently for a few minutes before he speaks again. “So what are you looking for?”

“Something extreme,” Larissa says. “The Circle.”

“That group?” Kallistos says with a laugh. “What, your friend here has a couple million he wants to spend somewhere other than your clubs? I thought Larissa the Dryad’s clubs catered to any desire a man might have.”

“Not all of them,” Larissa says. “You know that.”

“I know that you only have girls over eighteen, even though in Greece you could have them three years younger,” Kallistos says with a harsh laugh. “You don’t know how much money you lose to me because of that. So many American men wanting that taboo teen experience, and the best you can offer is a young looking eighteen, while I offer the real thing.”

My stomach turns, and I have to force myself to keep an even face as we turn down a quieter road. “There are things more important than age,” I say, trying to keep myself calm. I see Kallistos’ bodyguard in my side vision, and I make sure that he’s not on my gun side. I don’t want to have to use it, but I will if I have to. “Lots of different things.”

“Ah, you’re one of those kinky types,” Kallistos says, smiling sickly. “Again, not my thing, but at least that I can understand. You must have quite extreme tastes. Let me guess, no safety word, no limits? A little blood play?”

My stomach turns again, this isn’t the BDSM that Larissa has been introducing me to, but something darker, more evil, but I go with it. “Perhaps. What about The Circle?”

“Those are the men to talk to,” Kallistos says. “For a small fee I can introduce you. They’re recruiting right now, both customers and bodies. You know their basement cost is two million a fuck, right?”

“And what would I get for that?” I ask. “Anything?”

“Any and everything. You give the Circle a wish list, and anything short of demanding a famous celebrity they’ll get you for as long as you want to do anything you want to them. They’ll even dispose of the husk afterwards, no questions asked,” Kallistos says casually. “For an extra half million they’ll even throw in party favors. Coke, speed, X, whatever you want to make the girl or boy ready for you. And I’ve heard they can do more… for the right price.”

“I heard a rumor, some of my friends in the States, that they can even get you someone famous if you have the money,” I add. “What could I get for say… ten million?”

Kallistos laughs. “Rich, aren’t you? I’m not sure actually, but for that much you could probably get anything short of an A-lister. Fucking Natalie Portman would be off the table, but you could get her spitting image no problem.”

“And they’d clean up afterwards?”

Kallistos nods. “No DNA, no fingerprints, and the husk is dropped where nobody can pin it to you.”

The way he keeps saying ‘husk’ to refer to a body pisses me off. In my mind I can see the pictures of Chastity Hendricks, and what she must have felt in the hell she was in before the monsters who had her finally got tired of her and killed her. My fist clenches, and I glare at the fat man. “Is that what they did with the Hendricks girl?”

Kallistos’ eyes widen in shock, and he says something in Greek, but before his bodyguard can react I grab the hulking man and knee him in the balls before ramming him head first into the side of the building we’re next to. His head bounces off the stones and he drops like a rock, letting me turn to Kallistos, who’s too frightened to run. Instead, two harsh, dark red spots are blooming on his fat, jowly cheeks as he staggers backwards, reaching for something in his jacket. I smack the gun out of his hand and grab his wrist, twisting him down and to the ground, kneeling on his back where he screams. “Ah! My arm!”

“Is that what she said?” I ask softly in his ear. “Do you think that Chastity begged for mercy from the animals that drugged her, raped her and killed her?”

“P... p... please,” Kallistos begs, his voice thick and bubbling with tears. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, I’m sure she said that,” I growl, grabbing two of Kallistos’ fingers and twisting. They snap like brittle twigs in my grip, and his whines turn into a breathless scream of pain before he starts sobbing. “Now, I want a name. A contact name and a location.”

“I don’t know any-” Kallistos starts, his words cutting off when I bend his wrist backwards and twist, shattering the tiny bones inside and tearing ligaments. He screams again, and I twist a little more, a dark, angry part of me enjoying the pain that I’m inflicting on this waste of a man.

“A name and a location, or I go for the elbow and shoulder. You’re already going to have to jack off left handed for a few months, you don’t want to make it a life time,” I growl. “Now who, and where?”

“Pinchot! Arthur Pinchot!” Kallistos rasps.

“Who is he?” I growl, twisting the hand a little bit more. “My patience is wearing thin.”

“He’s the man for this area, I think he’s number two in Europe!” Kallistos whines. “Please, it hurts!”

“Chastity Hendricks hurt too,” I growl. “Now where is this Pinchot?”

“I don’t know where, he moves around a lot, he contacts us… oh please, please don’t hurt my arm any more!”

“Okay,” I say, letting go of his wrist and getting up. Kallistos cradles his destroyed hand to his chest, weeping and cursing while I brush off my pants and look down at him. “Thanks for the info.”

“You won’t get a chance to use it,” Kallistos threatens, his eyes flaring in hatred. “Pinchot hears about this, there’s nobody in the world who can protect you.”

“Then I guess he won’t hear about it,” I reply, soccer kicking Kallistos in the face. The feeling of his nose shattering from the blow excites me even more, and I follow up the kick with a stomp to the head and another, dark blood starting to flow and pool around this bastard’s skull until Larissa pulls me off, her voice soft but harsh in my ear.

“That’s enough!” she rasps, pulling me a little ways back. “You kill him, and the Circle will know something’s up. Leave him alive, and they’ll think it was beef between him and The Network. You sent your message.”

“He deserves to die!” I reply harshly, pushing Larissa away. “He could have stopped it! He’s a goddamn pedo piece of shit!”

“He is, but those girls in the club are over fifteen, which is the law here,” Larissa says softly. “I don’t like it, but I can’t stop it. The Network won’t back me on it, or my other connections. If you want the real evil men, come with me now. He’s going to be in the hospital for months at this point, it’ll buy us enough time.”

I’m panting, staring at the blood pooling under the asshole’s destroyed skull, and nod. “Fine. We get out of here.”

Instead of running off, we walk calmly back to the main road and turn back towards the resort, as if we’re just two people out on a stroll. About halfway back, Larissa chuckles. “He’s going to need a new name.”

“What do you mean?” I ask. “I thought his name was Kallistos.”

She shakes her head, giving me a look that helps calm the anger inside me while warming another side of me, but I’m not up for that tonight. “No, Kallistos is a nickname. It means ‘pretty boy’ or ‘angel face.’ We meant it as a joke.”

I think about it, and laugh harshly, letting some of my anger go with every breath. “Well, I couldn’t have made him much uglier.”

Larissa laughs, nodding. “If anything, you probably improved his looks some. Come on, we have a name to track down.”

Larissa

I can’t help it, driving back to Kalamata through the night I’m so horny I twice almost pull over to ask Stephen to fuck me. Watching him destroy Kallistos and his bodyguard without even getting hit once, the power and ruthlessness he showed, the exquisite use of pain and torture on a piece of slime that deserved far more… he was sublime.

But I can see in his eyes as we drive that while the laughter about Kallistos’ nickname might have helped him calm down enough to sit still through the drive back home, he’s not in the right place where sex can help him. He’s too far in his own personal darkness, and trying to seduce him now would only poison what I’ve seen bloom.

Strength.

Power.

A growing sense of what it takes to survive in the real world. It’s still undeveloped, and it’s just instinct, but it’s so strong.

So much potential within him, and it’s finally emerging. I wonder what has kept him from it for so long, held back from being the man that he is so quickly becoming. I don’t know, but maybe it’s time I find out. “Are you okay?”

He looks over at me and nods once. “Yeah. No. I don’t know.”

“Do you regret what you did?” I ask, and Stephen shakes his head. “You shouldn’t.”

“Curb stomping him was maybe over the line, but the rest… no way. I’m just pissed I couldn’t get a location for this Pinchot bastard out of him.”

I pull over into a gas station, shutting off my engine. “Here, use my card to fill up the car while I make a phone call. Maybe we can get somebody on Pinchot faster.”

Stephen nods while I go into the minimart, buying two bottles of sparkling water and dialing. The voice that picks up has an amused tone and a distinct Russian accent. “Hello Larissa. How goes your work with the hitman?”

“Good evening Nikolai,” I reply. Nikolai ‘The Composer’ Rachmaninoff is the banker for The Network, and his Russian connections run government deep. He is also the most Machiavellian man I know, which is quite a statement all things considered. “I have some progress, but I could use your assistance.”

“For you? My ears are always open,” Nikolai replies. “What’s the issue?”

“I have a name, and I’ll put my own people on it, but I’d like yours as well. Arthur Pinchot.”

“Pinchot. A Frenchman, it sounds like.”

“Possibly. He’s most likely involved in the issue, he might be the number two man in Europe for this group,” I say. “They’re on a recruiting swing, my source says.”

“Is your source still alive?” Nikolai jokes, knowing my hatred for the Circle. I chuckle, looking across the parking lot at Stephen who finishes gassing up the Range Rover and puts the nozzle away.

“Alive, but he’s not leaving the hospital until about Christmas is my guess,” I reply. “Thank you, Nikolai. I owe you.”

“No you do not,” Nikolai says, but I know his mind is already filing away the marker for a rainy day. “This group, they threaten us all. I will be in touch if I hear anything.”

I go back to the car, where Stephen’s waiting behind the driver’s seat. “You want to drive now?”

“Helps me not think about things,” he explains. “Your contact was productive?”

“We’ve got a lot of people on our side,” I reply, going around and getting into the passenger seat. “I’ll reach out to my Network people on the drive back to the townhouse.”

“And MI6?” Stephen asks, and I shake my head. “Why not?”

“Because of a feeling,” I say. “I don’t know why, but honestly the Network will most likely give us faster results anyway. Like the CIA, MI6 tends to focus on governments, not criminal networks unless they go against the government itself.”

Stephen says nothing as we get back on the road, and I send text messages to my own personal group within The Network to get them on the trail of Arthur Pinchot as well. I don’t think I have ever heard the name, but something tickles the back of my mind. It’s the only reason that I told Stephen that I wasn’t calling MI6 on this.

When we get to Kalamata, Stephen brings us to my townhouse, where he parks and sits back, sighing. “Thank you. It was at least a start.”

“And we have something to work with,” I reassure him. “Stephen, I know you and I don’t see eye to eye on things, but I’m on your side.”

He looks over, a grateful half smile on his face. “I know. Thank you, Larissa. I think I’m going to try and catch some sleep. Breakfast in the morning?”

I want to ask him to come to my bedroom, my body wants him badly, but my brain says that this isn’t the time. “Okay. See you in the morning, Stephen.”

* * *

“Larissa, I believe I have some information that you would like,” Nikolai says over the phone, his voice warm and chuckling. “Arthur Pinchot?”

“You found him?” I ask, shocked. My own personal group, while much smaller than any of the other capos in The Network, is highly professional, and our whole field of expertise is information gathering. When they haven’t found anything, I’ve been getting worried. Thankfully, Kallistos is still in a coma in the hospital, and the bodyguard doesn’t know enough about us to say anything. “Where?”

“Not far from you,” Nikolai says. “My people are saying he landed in Mykonos yesterday on a flight from Denmark.”

“Mykonos?” I ask, worried. “Nikolai, you know what Mykonos is.”

“I do. Which makes his presence there even more worrisome. If this Pinchot is recruiting in the area, then many agreements are in jeopardy.”

I hum, tugging at my hair. “And if I go in there and raise hell when he’s not, I’m risking those same agreements.”

“You have my support,” Nikolai says. “You and your hitman can take care of business. I will clear it on my end with the people I know. Good luck.”

The line goes dead, and I hang up, putting my phone aside. I go downstairs to the exercise room, where I find Stephen still in the middle of a workout. He’s stripped to just his shorts, his body glistening and gleaming in the bare lights, and my own body reminds me of what it wants.

Too bad that for the past two days, I’ve been reminded so often of the other side of him, the side that wants to do everything by the rules and wants to question every decision I make about how to do things. Not contacting MI6, why I do things the way I do, even why I run my system within The Network. My body wants him, but my brain can’t stand him. Still, I try to be polite. “I got a call.”

“Congratulations,” he grunts, lowering his body down in between the parallel bars before pressing up again. I take a quick glance at something besides his rippling upper body muscles to see that he has fifty kilograms hanging from around his waist, and my body sends a little surge saying it wants to feel that much strength again. “Who from, the Queen?”

And there goes my brain, reminding me why I want to choke him half the time too. “No,” I growl back, my brain and my body currently having a small civil war. “The Composer.”

“Who the fuck is that?” Stephen asks, dipping down again. He completes another movement, holding it at the top before going down and trying one final time, but he’s hit near failure, and he gets stuck halfway up, his face a rictus of effort and pain as his exhausted muscles strain as hard as they can, twitching underneath the surface of his skin as he tries vainly to get that last bit before everything collapses and he drops to the floor, thankfully landing on his feet.

“He’s one of the other capos, based in Russia. His real name is Nikolai Rachmaninoff. No relation to the composer he claims. Moving on though, he says he’s got a lead on Arthur Pinchot, on the island of Mykonos.”

Stephen looks over, a hungry, predator’s smile breaking out on his face. It’s icy, and even though we’ve fucked twice and I’ve felt the strong yet tender side of him, there’s no tenderness in this look This is pure aggression. “When do we leave?”

“It’s not that simple,” I tell him, sitting down on a chair in the corner. “Mykonos is neutral territory.”

“What do you mean, neutral territory?” he asks, unclipping the weights from his waist and hopping back up to do more dips. “Is this some sort of honor among thieves thing?”

“A lot,” I admit. “There are few agreements among the various criminal organizations around the world. At most, you can have a two party agreement. Most of them are over territory, but there’s also a set of those that involve neutral territory. These are areas that nobody is supposed to conduct criminal operations, and at the same time everyone is free to meet, talk, do whatever. Mostly, they exist so that high ranking people can just get a vacation without the constant worry of getting your head blown off. And yes, even in this townhouse there is a threat of me being hit. The Network has a very firm hand on big chunks of Sicily, but… anyway, Mykonos is neutral territory. Network, Mafia, Russians, MI6 or CIA, whoever can go to Mykonos, with the rule being no guns, no product. Nothing but talk can happen on Mykonos.”

“But Pinchot is there,” Stephen says, and I nod. “Is he recruiting?”

I shake my head, shrugging. “We don’t know. Regardless, going to Mykonos armed is not something we can just do lightly. We risk breaking treaties that have existed among the criminal groups for over a generation. The last time someone did that, the gang war that broke out was huge, but thankfully overshadowed by other events.”

“What events?” Stephen asks, and I chuckle.

“Try the fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of the Iron Curtain, then the shit storm that was the early nineties in the Mideast and Africa. A lot of the violence that was blamed on that was actually gang wars. It raged for five years, and over ten thousand people died across four continents.”

Stephen stops, considering. “I see. So you’re saying that we could cause more harm than good by going in there.”

“There’s a chance. But the call is yours, Stephen. It’s your mission.”

He nods, then wipes at his face. “The CIA rule book would tell me to not go. That it’d be better to go after this guy somewhere else, some other time when the collateral damage is less, when there’s less of a chance of getting a couple thousand people killed and our covers blown. I assume there’s a chance of that?”

“Big chance. We get caught, almost a one hundred percent chance for you, and if you get outed, I’ll probably get outed too,” I tell him, biting my lip nervously. “The Deep Cover playbook says the same thing. Let him go… for now.”

Stephen wipes his hand on his shorts and grabs the bars again. “The playbook says one thing. My gut’s telling me something else.”

He pushes himself up, and I wait with bated breath as he starts doing dips again. I don’t know why, I should be telling him what to do. I should be telling him that there are ten other choices we can make… but I don’t. Instead I watch him do dips, his chest and triceps flexing and his back muscles bunching in hypnotic, erotic ways that has warmth starting to spread between my legs. Finally he stops, holding himself at the top as he looks over. “So when do we go to Mykonos?”

I don’t know why, but I smile, standing up. “I can get my jet prepared within two hours. Do you have a pilot’s license?”

Stephen shakes his head. “No, do you?”

I give him a wink, getting to my feet. “What MI6 agent doesn’t? Pack light, Mykonos is purely resort, no suits required.”

I go to the door to head upstairs when Stephen calls out my name. “Larissa? Thanks. For sticking your neck out some more for me on this.”

I give him a nod and head back upstairs, wondering. Why am I sticking my neck out so much for this CIA agent?

Stephen

If I thought that Kalamata was idyllic, Mykonos is a paradise as Larissa and I get off of the plane, the sun shining brightly but not too hotly as a northern breeze stirs the hair on my brow. “Wow, I can see why people would want to vacation here.”

“Not as beautiful as Tahiti, but it is nice,” Larissa says, smiling. Actually, she’s been smiling ever since getting behind the controls of the jet, and it was impressive to watch. The way she controlled the tightly designed small jet makes me wonder if she’s ever flown something military, and the joy she has still written on her face makes her look even more beautiful than normal. “I know some places to ask around, so let’s begin.”

We rent a car, driving to a few of the resorts around the island where Larissa is received warmly by managers and some of the locals alike. Perhaps there is a truce that makes Mykonos a place where criminals can relax, but it is still a place that respects the power and potential that Larissa contains within her.

After two hours of driving and asking around, splitting up at times, Larissa comes out of a bar, nodding and grinning at the same time. I’m glad, I’m getting jack and shit, probably because of the language barrier. When you can talk like a local, the locals tend to give you more information. “We have a lead, and a picture,” she says, passing me her phone. “He came here last night, they got a good photo, and where he might be today. You’re going to like this.”

“What?” I ask, looking at the photo. Arthur Pinchot looks like he’s about forty, with brown hair that is just starting to streak with gray in certain places, and brown eyes. It’s chilling though, and it’s not in the color of his eyes that I get a shiver of fear. It’s something in his face, a lack of general humanity. Looking at the camera, Arthur looks like he’s contemplating the deaths of every person in the room. “This is one sadistic looking fuck.”

“He is,” Larissa replies. “Nikolai got back to me while I was in the bar. Arthur Pinchot is former French Foreign Legion, he couldn’t find the prior background on him, but from the looks of him he’s European in heritage. Very hardcore into sadism, to the point that he doesn’t accept safe words with his partners. Rumor has it that he’s killed more than one partner in bed intentionally, just to feel them die while he fucks them.”

“And how did this fucker live so long?” I ask, angry. “Why hasn’t someone removed him from the planet before us?”

“He’s got friends in high places. Nikolai is seeing what he can dig up there. But, in the bar they also know of Arthur, they say he’s gone to the beach today.”

“And that’s supposed to help us how?” I ask angrily. “In case you haven’t noticed, this little slice of paradise has more beaches than bars even.”

“But only one like this,” Larissa says. “Come on, I’ll explain as I drive.”

Ten minutes later, I look out on the beach which is in one of the small bays along the north shore of the island, not sure of what I’m looking at. “It’s topless.”

“It’s more than topless, it’s nude,” Larissa says, reaching for the buttons on her blouse. “Satyr’s Cove isn’t found on any map of the island that I know of. And with the name Satyr’s Cove, you can guess what people get up to.”

I shake my head, I’m not an expert on classical Greek mythology beyond the basics, and Larissa laughs. “Lose the clothes, you’ll see.”

“But...” I start, stopping when Larissa raises an eyebrow. “I’ll be naked.”

“And I’ve seen you naked twice already. Trust me, you’re not going onto that beach unarmed,” she says, shrugging off her top the rest of the way. “Strip.”

What the hell. I have a beautiful woman taking off her clothes next to me, a beach full of naked people, I might as well. Part of me hopes we don’t find Arthur Pinchot, I have no idea how I’d take out another man while I’m naked, but first we have to find him. I strip quickly, glad that Larissa insisted we bring a set of beach shoes probably for this exact purpose, and three minutes later I’m standing outside in the sun, naked as the day I was born… except for shoes.

It’s hard not to stare when Larissa steps out, her light olive skin kissed by the sun and looking like a dream herself. Her hair cascades down over her shoulders, her breasts are high and proud above her smooth stomach, and the way her hips swell outward, my cock twitches between my legs. She notices, and smiles. “You need sun screen. You’re really too pale in certain areas for this beach otherwise.”

I look down at my crotch, which I’ve never suntanned, and try to will my cock back to sleep, but it’s up and saying hello to the world pretty well. I just hope other people on the beach won’t notice. “I guess.”

“Would you like me to put in on?” Larissa teases, handing me the bottle. “I know how you boys are with lotion in that area.”

“And I know you’re just as bad,” I retort, making her laugh. I notice she has no tan lines at all, and I wonder where and how she’s done that, but I force the image from my mind as I focus on applying the sun screen to my body, finally turning at the end when I can’t get my back. “Little help?”

“Only if you return the favor,” Larissa says, and I see that she’s put on her own sun screen, a lighter oil that makes her skin gleam even more. I take her oil, rubbing some of it between my hands before rubbing the oil over her back and shoulders. Her skin is amazing, this is the first time I’ve ever really felt her without being angry or lust-nuts, and deep inside me a voice whispers that she’s the most perfect creature in creation. I rub my thumbs over her shoulder blades and the supple muscles underneath, my cock rising again but I don’t really care this moment. Larissa moans, humming deep in her throat. “That feels good.”

Her words jolt me back to reality, the reality of me standing in a parking lot with my cock a fraction of an inch from her ass and wanting to fuck this nymph… and maybe more. I step back shakily, clearing my throat. “I think I got everything.”

Larissa takes a moment before she turns around, and when she does I swear she’s got the same thoughts I do, and I turn around before she can see my excitement. I’m on the job dammit. Fucking in her townhouse or even in her club is one thing, but I’m on duty.

Larissa’s hands though feel incredible on my back, and she knows just how to rub and massage my back, better than Victoria even, and my cock is raging, twitching in time with my heartbeat as Larissa keeps working the lotion into my skin. “I think...” she says after a moment, her voice raspy and thick, “I think that you’re ready too.”

We walk down to the beach, my cock relaxing just slightly as I try to do my best to not look at Larissa as we move, but soon I’m stunned by what I see. “They’re having sex. On the beach.”

“They certainly are,” Larissa notes as she looks where I’m staring as a man and woman sixty nine on a towel. “I told you, this is Satyr’s Cove. Satyrs were mythological beings who liked to get drunk, dance, and have lots of sex. So, on this beach people get naked, drink, dance, and have lots of sex. Come on, it’s considered rude to watch.”

We keep going, and I have to pull my eyes away as time after time I see couples or groups engaged in some sort of sexual play. Finally, I have to glance at Larissa who’s taking it all in with an amused smile, her body fantastic in the sun. “Do people come here alone?”

“Quite a lot,” she admits. “When I first came to Mykonos I spent three days on this beach.”

“What for? You could have your pick of anyone anywhere,” I reply without thinking, and Larissa looks over, smiling.

“I did. But really, I came for training. I was more innocent then, so the nature of this beach helped me.”

A blonde woman with small breasts but a tightly muscled stomach approaches, smiling. “Hi. You two looking for a place to sit down and relax?”

Larissa gives the woman an amused look, then she looks at me before shaking her head. “No thanks, but tell me, have you seen a man, about forty years old, brown hair, brown eyes, sort of looks like a soldier?”

The blonde woman shakes her head, pouting slightly. “You guys sure? I play both ways.”

“Fine offer, but no thanks,” I answer before Larissa can, moving away. The woman walks off, and Larissa soon catches up. She looks like she’s about to say something, but I cut her off with a shake of my head. “I’ve had the best. I don’t need a cherry on top of that. And we’re supposed to be working anyway.”

Larissa blushes slightly at my compliment but nods, the two of us continuing our search. It’s difficult, between the constantly fucking people or groups, there’s a certified bisexual orgy going on at one point of ten people that we pass, and when we reach the edge of the beach we still haven’t seen anyone that resembles Arthur Pinchot.

“Let’s try again, maybe he had his head between some woman’s tits,” I grumble, getting angry for no reason. “Then we can head back.”

“Okay,” Larissa says casually, not understanding that half of my fucking problem is her. I have a goddess walking next to me, sensuality seeping from every pore of her flawless skin and she’s naked. I’ve felt her body before, I’ve never felt anything like it in my entire life, and she’s just treating this like a casual walk on a beach. Surrounded by sex, with her next to me, I feel like I’m in a fog of sexuality, my cock not wanting to fully relax. At least I don’t look like a plug looking for a socket any more. “You enjoying yourself?”

I don’t reply, moving off down the beach again, this time ignoring the rules and taking at least a moment to check out every couple or group that’s fucking on the beach. It’s useless though, and as we reach the other end I’m pissed off. We’ve spent most of the day going around this island, at least an hour and a half of it walking up and down a beach where everyone’s fucking but none of them are Arthur Pinchot, and I feel like I’ve been wasting my time. Larissa keeps going, over some rocks and I follow her, finding us in a quiet, private cove that can’t be more than a few yards wide, just the two of us. She looks around, shaking her head. “Damn.”

“What?” I fume. “No massive orgy going on here?”

She turns, noticing my tone of voice for the first time. “I was just checking. What’s got your ass?”

Her tone of voice pushes me over the edge and I grab her, pulling her to me and bending her over my lap. “My ass?” I growl, smacking her upturned cheeks sharply. “I’ve been wasting my fucking time here, and you know it!”

Larissa kicks and tries to fight me, but I’m aware of her tricks now and hold her tightly, spanking her ass again. It feels good, the sting on my skin and the feel of her writhing body in my lap making my cock surge to full hardness again. “You asshole!”

“Watch it, Larissa. Or else that’s next,” I threaten, spanking her a third and fourth time. The fourth smack, she tenses, then pushes back into my hand, moaning deeply in her chest as I rub the warm flesh, exploring the curve of her ass. “You’re a bad girl.”

“Mmmm, yes...” Larissa whispers, turning to look me in the face. Her eyes are dark, violet almost bordering on deep purple as desire fills us both and she smiles. “I’m very bad.”

“Then you get what you deserve,” I growl, spanking her again and again. With each blow I can feel her stomach rub against my cock and her pussy grind on my leg, her eyes never leaving mine as I let my desire flow. I smack her harder and harder, my fingers leaving imprints on the twin tan globes of her ass, but instead of protesting Larissa pushes back harder, gasping with every smack. I can feel her juices dripping down my leg and I can’t stand it any more, I pick her up and pull her around, twisting her in my lap so that she can straddle my waist and I pull her down onto my raging cock, kissing her hotly as she sits her full weight onto my lap, filling her with one thrust. “Fuck me!”

“Yes…,” Larissa moans, lifting her hips and riding my cock. Her breasts lift up to my lips and I take her right nipple in my mouth, licking and sucking hard on the coconut scented skin, teasing her nipple until it’s diamond hard in my mouth. I reach around her with my arms to grab her still warm ass cheeks and squeeze, Larissa howling in lust and maybe pain as I maul them while she lifts and lowers herself on my cock, both of us moaning as the pleasure runs through me.

Fucking Larissa isn’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. The way she grips me, the way her body feels in my hands, it’s like we aren’t two people fucking but two halves of the same whole, giving and taking from each other simultaneously. When I suck on her breasts it isn’t because I want to pleasure her, but because I want to feast on her bountiful skin, but she loves it. As she rides my cock, I can tell that she’s totally riding it for herself, but the feeling of her pussy squeezing and massaging my shaft and the feeling of my cockhead rubbing against the firm ridges inside her is maddening it’s so intense.

And at the same time, there’s something in the way she rides me that tells me that she’s giving in to me too. It raises the powerful side of me, the side that she’s woken up inside me, first with her girls but more intensely with her. It’s the side of me that loves hearing her cry out as she rides me, the side that gasps in pain when I bite her left nipple and tug on it, her pussy clamping down on me even as she slams down into my lap as I do.

I’m growling, pulling her down on top of me and kissing her hard even as Larissa’s hips drive us both higher and higher, my balls aching with the need I’ve had for hours to come. I wasn’t lying when I turned the blonde woman down on the sand, after fucking Larissa there’s no other woman in the world who can compare. Poor blondie, she’d be putty in our hands too.

“I’m… I’m going to...” Larissa says, and I kiss her again, biting her lip as I do and she comes, screaming in pain and pleasure as her pussy tightens around my cock to the point of pain myself, pushing me over the edge. I drive my cock up even though I’m all the way inside her and explode, filling her and taking her higher, both of us reaching heaven together.

As it fades, I let go of her now bruised lip, kissing her softly instead. “Come on,” I whisper, stroking her back tenderly. “Let’s get washed off in the ocean, and the get dressed. Pinchot isn’t here, we need to get back to work.”

Larissa looks disappointed, but nods, climbing off of my body to walk down to the ocean where she splashes in, me right behind. I want to say more, but like I said, we’ve got work to do.

Larissa

Putting my clothes back on at the car, I’m torn again, a feeling that’s becoming far too familiar with Stephen around. On one hand, the warmth in my ass and the soreness on my nipples and on my lip feels great. The pain was exquisite, especially as he spanked me harder and harder, confident that I could take his strength, and the feeling of fucking him while my bruised ass bounced up and down on his lap was something I’ve missed for too long. Even in his words, they were just right, possessive and powerful and playful all at the same time.

But why he was pushed over the edge, that pisses me off. I didn’t bring Stephen to Satyr’s Cove just to tempt him into fucking me. Sure, I was aware of his body, it was impossible not to be even as soon as he rubbed the tanning oil into my back. If he’d pushed my legs apart right there I might have fucked him, his gentle strength had my pussy aching, a fire that only grew when I got to rub his lotion into his back. That fire dimmed slightly as we started walking, but was nearly a raging inferno when he turned down the blonde woman. She was pretty, and most men would have a difficult time turning down a three way with her involved. Stephen did it without a second glance in her direction, and then later, when he said why, I nearly fell to my knees to beg him to fuck me right there.

I stayed professional though. I didn’t take him to Satyr’s Cove to seduce him. I even did a second sweep with him, even though I could tell after the first time that Arthur Pinchot wasn’t there. And the little side cove, that was a place that came to me just as we approached the rocks from that side, a place where I’d taken rest and refuge my first time on the beach, a place where I knew people could find some privacy if they wanted.

So why blame me for the failure to find the man? Leads don’t pan out all the time, that’s part and parcel of the intelligence field. I don’t say anything though as we go back to the car and get dressed, checking out bars and resorts for the rest of evening until finally frustration gets the better of us. “Fuck it, let’s get some sleep,” Stephen says as his watch beeps midnight. “I’m exhausted.”

He’s exhausted. He’s not the one who woke up early, got the information we’ve been looking for, piloted a jet, got spanked and fucked, and still found the energy to check out nearly two dozen places without even stopping for dinner. Thanks a lot, you inconsiderate asshole. “Fine. The Network has a private villa, we can sleep there.”

Stephen nods, half distracted as I drive us up into the hills away from the shoreline and a little higher in elevation. The evening wind is nice at least as I lean against the railing on the terrace, looking down on the town of Chora, the biggest of the villages on the island. I get on my phone, sending a message to Nikolai that so far we haven’t found Arthur Pinchot before shutting it down for the night.

As I look out over the twinkling lights down below, some of the resort clubs still going strong like they will until sunrise, my thoughts turn again to Stephen. I know what pisses me off about him, even more than his blaming me for the futile search today, is that he has so much of what I want. Strength, power, a dominating charisma that makes my pussy wet even when we’re trying to be professional… no man in years has had the combination to spank me the way Stephen did today, pushing me hard that way before pulling me on top. Even on top, I wasn’t the one in charge, fucking him because he demanded that I fuck him, all of it adding up to a sensual, sexual release like I’ve wanted for so long.

But he’s still so undisciplined. He shouldn’t have spanked me for punishment over something that I didn’t do wrong. It shows his inexperience. A good dominant doesn’t let his emotions take over, administering punishment without the harsh edge that Stephen had today. An out of control dom is a dangerous dom, a dom who can hurt his sub without knowing it. That’s something that worries me.

Still, no man has ever been able to handle me the way Stephen is, not even some of my instructors back in my training days with MI6. They were experts, but none of them had the pull on me that Stephen does.

And that scares me.

* * *

“Can we talk?” Stephen asks after we finish a silent, tense breakfast. “About yesterday?”

“There’s some more places that we can check out today, and I sent a message to Nikolai, he should have some information for me soon,” I reply, trying to be purely professional. It’s hard, my ass is still aching from the spanking, reminding me that this man across the table from me gave me an experience that I can try to put out of my mind for a while, but I can’t forget. I shift around in my chair, trying to find a comfortable sitting position but failing. Still, I’m not going to eat bent over with my ass in the air right now. “I was thinking that we can get an early start-”

“Not about the search,” Stephen interrupts me, cutting me off. “About… about me spanking you yesterday.”

“What about it?” I ask, looking over. “Stephen, the last time we fucked, I asked you to spank me, so you knew you had my permission. I’m not exactly happy about how it happened, but I’m not complaining about it. You did it good.”

Stephen shakes his head, looking down. “No, I didn’t. One of the things that I’ve come to understand about anything like that is that there has to be control on my part, or else I can hurt you.”

“You didn’t though. But go on,” I say, a warm feeling in my stomach. I’m not sure, but I believe I’m seeing a breakthrough.

“Yesterday, I wasn’t in control, Larissa. Those first spanks, I was hitting you as hard as I could from that position, and I wasn’t thinking about you or protecting you at all. I just wanted to hurt you because… because around you I’m having a very hard time keeping control. Yesterday, I was distracted by your body, and that isn’t your fault. You’re the most physically beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Why?” I ask, and Stephen reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone and passing it over. I take a look at the picture he’s pulled up, a woman who, while maybe a bit thinner than me, has a sensual beauty all her own as she sits in the posed photo dressed in a party dress and some Gucci heels. “A former girlfriend?”

He shakes his head, taking the phone back and making it disappear. “No. My sister, Victoria. She was a professional model for almost twenty years. She retired when she was thirty two, and for the past four years she’s worked as a consultant in the industry. Larissa, what I’m saying is… as beautiful as Vic is, you make her look pedestrian. And keeping my control around you is hard because of that. Not just that, too. You’re smart, you’ve got brains for days and you stimulate me more than just sexually too.”

I smile, it’s the deepest compliment a man has ever given me, and I nod. “Thank you, Stephen. So you’re worried about your control?”

He nods. “Larissa, this whole case, I’ve been feeling on edge. The things that this bastard Pinchot may have done to Chastity Hendricks, you, this awakening that I feel inside me, all of it has me feeling like I’m driving a truck down a steep mountain road, and I’ve got no brakes at all. And for the first time in my life I don’t know what to do about it. I need help. I need guidance, and I need… please help me. Give me some advice, something to help me feel like I can regain control. Because if this continues, I’m going to fail this mission, and I’m going to shatter into a million pieces more importantly. I feel myself trembling on the edge of going down the same path that this Pinchot bastard is on, and I don’t know how to turn the fucking truck off of that road.”

It’s moving, it’s heartfelt, and I blink, touched by what he’s revealing to me, which takes more strength than he realizes. “I think,” I rasp, then clear my throat, regaining my own control, “I know how to help you.”

“How?” he asks, looking up at me with apologetic and desperate eyes. “Before Larissa, I thought that this would stop if I just didn’t fuck you. But last night, I realized that I’m too far gone.”

I nod, and get up, going around to stroke his face, tracing over the sharp cheekbones and his well sculpted eyebrow. “I can show you, Stephen. I cannot tell you. This villa isn’t perfect, but I have some tools here to help me. It starts with one thing, Stephen. I’ve said it before, but I’ll rephrase it. To learn control, you have to give up control. Can you do that, give me total control of you?”

He looks up into my eyes, swallowing deeply. “I… it’s hard. There’s nobody I trust that much… except you.”

A whisper goes through me, both elated and scared at what’s happening here, but I squash it, this isn’t the time. “Then today, you will serve me totally. You will obey my every order no matter what. And until midnight tonight, you are not Stephen. You are Boy. Do you understand, Boy?”

“Yes… Larissa?” Stephen says, and I shake head, slapping him lightly. He growls, and his hand lifts, but he stops himself before anything happens.

“I’m not your Mistress, I can see that in your eyes. But for today, you will address me as Lady L.”

Stephen swallows, his eyes flaring, but he nods. “Yes, Lady L. I will serve you today.”

I smile, he’s so not meant for this role, but he’s trying. “And one more thing. A promise. Today, you aren’t allowed to touch your cock at all, and I promise you I won’t either. You need to piss, you squat and piss like a girl, but you don’t touch your cock even for that. Now, Boy, go to your room, and take off all your clothes. You have a problem with nudity around me, and I’m going to teach you to control that cock of yours.”

Stephen retreats, and I go to my room, thankful that as a capo, I have my own private room in the villa. Actually, it was mistake with that system that led to Rodrigo and I finding out about our respective kinky sides, as he’d gone in thinking that it was an open bedroom only to find my private little stash of gear, and I’d gotten pissed off. Thankfully we got past that to becoming friends, but right now I’m focused on Stephen as I take off my clothes and put on my micro-mini black leather skirt, barely there bikini top to compensate for the Mykonos heat, and re-do my makeup, making myself darker, more mysterious, and more dominant. I check myself in the mirror and nod, pleased with my quick adjustment. I do grab Stephen’s ‘clothes’ for the rest of the day, going out into the dining room to find him standing naked, his body highlighted in the sun and making me almost falter for a second. This isn’t the body of a man meant to serve, this is the body of a man meant to be worshiped.

But this is, in a way. I clear my throat, causing him to turn, his eyes widening as he takes me in. His cock twitches, and I have to snicker. “Well, Boy likes what he sees. He better control it or else I’m going to lock that thing up in my chastity cage. You don’t want me to do that, you’re big enough that would hurt like a bitch.”

“Yes Lady L,” Stephen says. “I did as you ordered.”

“Then on your knees,” I order, and Stephen obeys, although a bit slowly, unsure of this. My pussy is already getting wet watching him, and I remind myself inside that I’m the one who’s been a dominant for a decade now, I can maintain my control as long as I need to. I hold out the small leather loincloth, handing it to him. “Your clothes for the rest of the day. Or as long as I let you wear clothes.”

Stephen puts the cloth on, staying on his knees the whole time. When he’s finished, he looks up at me, embarrassed by the still tenting front of the loincloth but still trying. “What now, Lady L?”

“We’ll start slow,” I reply, and for the next four hours, Stephen does… housework. It’s not much, but as I lay back, occasionally giving him little peeks at my pussy, he dusts, vacuums, and washes the dishes and laundry, finishing by hanging our clothes from yesterday up in the courtyard, his body covered in light sweat from the heat and his near constant state of arousal. In between chores he pours me an iced tea, brings me my computer and other things, pampering me totally with an attitude that I can’t call eager, but he is controlled and professional, just like I want him to be. This first part is to get him used to being so unclothed with me, listening to my orders. With a normal full time slave I’d keep this up for much longer, Claudia drove Elena crazy back in Kalamata with her inept cleaning for weeks until she learned, but Stephen has only one day, so I move things along.

“Good,” I praise him as he comes back inside, his eyes blinking to adjust to the darkness inside again. “Now… I feel like a massage, Boy. Go to the bathroom, and get the orange massage oil, then meet me in my bedroom.”

I’m laying down when Stephen comes in, his eyes bugging out slightly when he sees me laying on the bed, the strings on my bikini top untied but my skirt still on. “Do a good job on the massage, and you’ll be treated nicely later. Do a shitty job or try to fuck me, and you’re going to be treated very, very harshly. Think you can do that, Boy?”

“Yes Lady L,” he says, coming over and kneeling on the bed. He uncaps the oil, and I can smell it, it’s just what I wanted. He’s skilled, warming the oil between his hands before starting with my feet, using enough pressure that I’m not tickled but not making it hurt. His thumbs dig into the soles of my feet with the right pressure, and I have to bite my lip to control myself as my pussy starts to leak onto the bed. I can smell myself, I know Stephen can too, but he doesn’t do anything except keep rubbing, working my muscles until they’re like butter under his strong fingers. Oh, for him to do this when I could just turn over and ask him to fuck me…

He skips over my ass, probably a good idea considering how horny we both are, and starts work on my back again, kneading and gently rubbing the oil into my skin. “You could make a career of this, Boy.”

“One day career only, Lady L,” he says, still a little bit of sass left in him still. It makes me smile, looking out of the side of my eyes to take him in.

“And if I tell you that you’re to serve me until I tell you not to, instead of midnight?” I ask, and he stops.

“You gave me your word, even if you didn’t promise. I will not serve a person who cannot keep their word,” he says with quiet intensity. “Midnight.”

I smile, nodding. “You’re learning already. Good. Keep going, Boy.”

His hands are magic, and my body is humming, demanding release when he finishes up my arms and sits back. “Please turn over, Lady L.”

“Not until you get my well bruised ass, which I know you’ve been looking at,” I order and tease simultaneously. “A nice, gentle rub down there, but you are not allowed to touch my asshole or my pussy. Understood?”

“Yes Lady L,” he says, shifting down. I can’t help but moan lightly when he starts rubbing my ass, softly stroking my hips until all the soreness is gone and there’s just warm, soft pleasure and his hands kneading me. He obeys perfectly, never drifting between my legs or near my asshole, even though both are more than ready to accept him. It’s been so long since I had something as thick as him in my ass, and the last time wasn’t real either….

“Stop,” I command, faltering on the edge of giving in, only my years of experience saving me from doing the one thing I cannot do today, give in to him. “Off the bed.”

Stephen pauses, and when he gets up I see that his cock is rock hard, his loincloth nearly unable to cover as it juts out. Stephen’s worried, but I reassure him as I tie my bikini top and get off the bed. “That I’m not going to punish you over, Boy. I ask you to obey, not play dead.”

“Thank you, Lady L,” Stephen whispers, and I hear it in his voice, he’s learning by the second. “How may I serve you now?”

I take a deep breath, calming myself. “Go to the living room and do a calisthenic workout for the next hour, in just your loincloth or naked, I don’t care which. I’m going to take a nap, and prepare this room for your next bit of training. Something that… well, the living room isn’t sufficient for.”

Stephen nods, going to the door before pausing. “Lady L?”

“Yes, Boy?” I ask, turning back over and reaching for my alarm clock. Thirty minutes, just thirty minutes to prepare myself.

“If I can say, you’ve been talking with your British accent more today. It’s very sexy.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. Incorrigible. Absolutely incorrigible. “I’ll see you in an hour.”

He leaves and I lay down, doing my best to try and control my thoughts and my heartbeat. He felt so good massaging me, my body is on fire and my pussy is soaked. I’m glad I’m not wearing panties today under my skirt, at first just to tease him but now because I’d have ruined anything I have.

I close my eyes but don’t fall asleep before my timer goes off. I didn’t really need the rest, I needed a break from Stephen and a chance to let him regain his self control as well. I prepare my bedroom for the final training, the part that now I dread a little even as I fix the cuffs on their lines. I just have the tricky top cuffs ready and my tools assembled when there’s a polite knock at my door, and I see Stephen, his skin glistening in sweat and his hair damp still standing outside, his hands behind his back. Thankfully, the hour of exercise has let his cock deflate, I don’t think I could have resisted the urge to fondle him if he had been hard. “Lady L, it’s been an hour.”

“And you’ve calmed down,” I note, smiling. “Go stand at the foot of the bed, facing the headboard.”

Stephen obeys, his eyes flickering doubtfully as he sees the cuffs dangling from the posts. “What is this?”

“Bondage is one of the deepest levels of trust that a sub can show their dominant,” I tell him, coming behind him and tapping his ankles apart. “You were spoiled, getting to practice with two of my best girls with me there. They trust me with their very lives, and you were luckily able to feel that. Now you get to feel some of what they feel.”

Stephen gulps but says nothing as I buckle his ankles in, then take the wrist cuffs and strap them on before going to the button by the head of my bed and retract them, splaying him out in an X position. “Comfortable?”

“Not really,” he admits, squirming his shoulders a little. “I did a lot of pushups for my workout.”

“Too bad,” I say mock harshly. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You saw my toys on the dresser when I came in, right?”

“Yes Lady L,” Stephen says. “A crop, a whip, and something I didn’t recognize.”

“That’s my peg,” I threaten, keeping the real purpose secret for now. “You do know what pegging is, right?”

“No Lady L.”

I blink, shocked. So dominant, yet so innocent? Inconceivable, but I don't think he's lying. “Really? Well, if you behave, you may not have to find out. First though, questions. If you lie or you fuck up, you get my crop, got it? You fuck up too much, I change to the whip, and if you still don’t learn, I use my peg. Got it?”

“Yes Lady L. Do I have a safe word?” he asks, and I shake my head, instead pointing at the clock.

“There's your safe space, Boy. Yes I'm violating a big rule, but you're strong enough to take it, I think, aren't you?”

Stephen looks at the clock, nodding. It's nine thirty, and while he knows a hell of a lot can go very wrong in two and a half hours, he also understands the situation. He takes a deep breath, then looks at me. “I trust you, Lady L.”

I have to step away, blinking away the tears of gratitude at his words before he can see me and I pick up the crop. “Okay. First question. How did you feel serving me today?”

“Self conscious at first,” Stephen admits, “but as I continued, it became... relaxing.”

“Relaxing?” I ask, pleased immediately. “How so?”

“I didn't need to worry about the rest of the world. Everything simplified, I could trust in Lady L and not have to worry about anything except the next five minutes,” he says, and I whip my crop, smacking him lightly on the back. “Ow! What?”

“You don't focus on the next five minutes, you focus on the next five seconds,” I whisper in his ear, tracing my crop up and down his spine. “So did you like doing my laundry?”

“I don't want to be a housekeeper... but it was nice,” Stephen admits. “I felt at peace.”

“And now?” I ask. “Do you feel at peace?”

He thinks, and I smack him again with my crop, making him yelp before he answers. “Yes!”

“Yes?” I ask, shocked. “Why?”

“Because.... because I trust you totally,” Stephen says. “I don't know why Lady L, but I trust you more than I trust anyone in the world.”

I step back, shaken myself this time as Stephen's words soak in. Finally, I remind myself of why I'm here, and I trace his shoulders with my crop. “And did you enjoy fucking me yesterday?”

“I always enjoy fucking you. Don't you enjoy it too?” he asks, and I smack him again, this time in the ass.

“You don't ask questions. I ask questions, your job is to do as I tell you. But I see you've made an assumption. Tell me, why do you think I enjoyed it?”

Stephen looks back at me, his eyes searching deep within me. “Because you came. Because of the way you came, the way you rode me.”

I nod, smirking a little. “You say that even though you know my profession. You think highly of yourself. Fact is Boy, you're cocky. I bet even today, even though I told you that you couldn't touch your cock, that you thought you'd still get to fuck me at some point.”

“No Lady L,” he says, and I smack him again, harder. “Yes, Lady L. During the massage I wanted to fuck you very badly.”

“And now? Does the pain help you?”

He thinks, then nods. “I can see the appeal.”

“Explain.”

“It's like... it's like a sprinkling of salt in caramel. The pain makes the pleasure more enhanced.”

“It can,” I agree, stepping closer. “What you need to learn about Boy is the idea that at a certain level, pain and pleasure and desire and agony all mix, pushing you higher than you've ever imagined. You want to know why I switch? That's why. Next question. Who is in charge in a dom and sub relationship? Not a fucking, a real relationship?”

Stephen thinks, then answers. “The sub, Lady L. They have the final control at all times, if it's a relationship built off of trust and emotion.”

I smile, stroking his face. “Such a sweet answer, Boy. So if you are dominant, does that make you weaker than your sub?”

He shakes his head. “No Lady L. It's just that... I have to always maintain my control, to make sure that I care for my sub and not go too hard.”

“So as such, what is your dream partner?” I ask, and Stephen smiles.

“A woman who can take everything I have, who is strong enough to absorb everything and I don't have to worry about hurting her. Whose limits are equal to mine.”

“Have you found such a woman? I assume you don't play with men.”

Stephen chuckles, and I slap him on the ass. “Sorry, Lady L. I... I don't know. I'm so new to this side of me, I can't even be sure of what my limits are yet.”

I stroke his face, and smile. “We still have plenty of time to find out what those limits are.”

I step back, and hit him with my crop again, working his back and ass the way that I saw him work Claudia in the club, never hitting the same place twice, but marking his back. Stephen clenches his hands but never cries out as my shoulder starts to warm up into the task. “Do you understand now? In your weakness you find your strength?”

Stephen shakes his head, gritting his teeth but refusing to cry out as I set my crop aside and get my whip. “Here's a hint. Which is more difficult, fighting me or bearing the pain?”

I whip him once, across the broadest part of his back, the red line harsh against his skin but not breaking it. Stephen gasps, his knees quivering, and I go to lift my arm again. I know what I need to do. I should whip him a little rawer, then go over, stroking his cock to hardness before I get my 'peg,' throw the switch that would bend him over, and then assfuck him like a bitch, show him what it feels like to take it as much as give it. For most men, especially a dominant heterosexual like Stephen, this sort of humiliation opens up their eyes to a whole new world, and drives home the point of what a sub feels like, and leaves a warning that lasts forever.

But watching Stephen tremble, his cute bubble butt twitching as he anticipates the next blow, I can't do it. Instead, I go over to my dresser and put the whip away, getting my lotion and taking it over, squeezing some on my hand.

“You need to think about it very seriously, Boy,” I whisper, rubbing the lotion over his back. “Think about where I was yesterday, helpless and at your mercy. Think about the pain that you inflicted on me, and what could have happened if a woman weaker than me had been there. Now, what should I do about that?”

“I... I'm sorry, Lady L,” Stephen says, his voice quavering not in fear but in real emotion. “I understand.”

“It is only by making myself so weak for you and others that I have found the strength to take all that you've dished out so far. Now Boy, I have a final question for you. Do you want to find out how much more I can take?”

Stephen nods, looking back at me. “Very much, Lady L. You're unlike any other woman I've ever met.”

I smile, and stroke his face, kissing him tenderly. “Wrong. I'm unlike any woman you're ever going to meet, Boy. For that mistake, I'm going to leave you here for a while. Be glad I don't actually peg you. Tomorrow you can figure out what that means.”

I turn and leave my bedroom, frustrated with myself. Never, in all my years of breaking in new subs or teaching a wanna-be dom what that means, have I passed up humili-fucking them. It binds the subs to me, and teaches the doms. Why did I pass it up with Stephen? My pussy is throbbing after being near him like this all day, and watching his bubble butt shake under my crop has me aroused and needy. I shake my head, wondering what the hell's wrong with me.

The chimes ring on the big clock, and I return to my bedroom, where Stephen's waiting patiently. “It's midnight, Stephen. You completed your training very well.”

I go over and let his arms down, giving the cords enough slack that he can free himself while I undo his ankles. “So how do you feel?”

“Wiser,” Stephen says, kneeling down next to me. He cups my face, looking into my eyes. “I know I don't understand everything Larissa, but thank you. I feel more in control of myself now. Thank you.”

I nod, unable to say anything, and stand up. “Now, as much as we both know that after such a day we want release... I'm saying no, just not tonight for me. I need to think myself some, and tomorrow we need to get back to work.”

Stephen looks like he's about to protest, but nods. “We probably need a goodnight's rest. Goodnight, Larissa.”

“Goodnight, Stephen.”

He leaves, and I resist the urge to run out of my room and drag him back to beg him to fuck my aching body, but right now, I'm not sure I can keep things where they need to be. I'm so confused, I go to my phone and dial the one person I can trust with this.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my friend,” I whisper, my voice tight. “I need your help.”

“Larissa?” Rodrigo asks, concern in his voice. “What's wrong?”

“I couldn't do it,” I explain, sitting down on my bed. “I had him tied up, I still had twenty minutes on the clock, and I couldn't do it.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Rodrigo says, relief at least partially in his voice in that my life isn't in mortal danger. “Slow down, go back to the beginning, and explain it to me.”

It takes over a half hour, going through it all. I lay it all out for Rodrigo, he's the only other person I know who can understand from a BDSM perspective, a Deep Cover perspective, and just a human point of view as well. “So what do you think, my friend?”

Rodrigo chuckles, not what I expected. “Larissa, it's pretty clear what's going on.”

“What?” I ask, emotions tearing at my chest. “Why couldn't I fuck him and make him my bitch?”

“It's simple. The same thing you saw happening to me a while back. Larissa, you're developing feelings for this man. You couldn't humiliate him because you want him in charge.”

I stop, stunned. Is it really that simple? “But Rodrigo, he's new to this. He's not like you, he's not an experienced dominant. There's no way I should be wanting to submit to him like this.”

“But you are,” he notes. “Larissa, I'm not saying that this guy is your version of what Jessica is for me, you and I both know relationships don't work like that. But why get upset that you are getting feelings for him? Yeah, he's got an asshole streak to him. At the same time, he did your laundry, obeyed your commands, and took a whipping from you simply to try and learn and to get some self control back. I bet if you had pegged him, he would have taken it without complaining too, and he strikes me as the type who's never had anything bigger than the doctor's finger for a hernia check up his ass before.”

I laugh, a little relieved. “You know he didn't even know what pegging is?”

Rodrigo whistles, then laughs himself. “I certainly would like to meet this Stephen some time. He must be pretty remarkable to have gotten ahold of you if he's so new he doesn't even know what that is.”

“Maybe he is. Maybe he is.”

Stephen

I wake up the next morning with my back aching from yesterday's training with Larissa, but for the first time in weeks, my mind is calmer. Laying in bed, I think about what Larissa was trying to teach me, and how it felt being her 'Boy' for a day.

There is an appeal to it. Being bound to her bed, I understood the appeal of just letting go, letting Larissa take total control of everything. Sure, it was scary, but there was the same type of thrill in it that I get from riding a rollercoaster. For certain people, I understand why.

I roll over, out of my bed to look at my cock, which is standing stiff and ready for action. Actually, it was stiff and ready for action most of yesterday, and considering what Larissa was wearing, I'm not surprised.

“You calm the fuck down,” I whisper to it, shaking my head. “It's not like she said she was going to let us in today.”

Still, I admit, I can hope. I get dressed and go out into rest of the house, where I find Larissa going through some yoga like poses on the outdoor terrace. My cock surges, and I turn around, forcing myself to go to the kitchen and drink some orange juice before I get stupid. I want her, I want to go out there on that terrace and show her what the real purpose of that dog pose is, but this is not the time.

While I'm sipping my juice Larissa's phone beeps, and I glance over, she's got a text message. I go out on the terrace, where Larissa is kneeling in a meditative pose I think, although having her sit with her hands behind her back gives my dark side thoughts again. “I don't want to interrupt, but you have a text message.”

“Two minutes,” Larissa says, and I go inside, waiting anxiously until she comes in, her skin still glowing from her exertions. “My phone, please?”

I pass it over and at the same time pour her a glass of juice, which she accepts gratefully, sipping while she reads. It takes her just a minute before she sets her glass down, grinning. “That clever bastard.”

“What?” I ask, glancing over her shoulder, but the message isn't in English. “Translate, please?”

“It's coded Italian, from Rachmaninoff,” she says. “Arthur Pinchot has been operating under my nose the whole time under an assumed name. I know him,” she says, taking her phone and typing away. “He operates another club in the Corinth area, on the other side of the isthmus. He left Mykonos yesterday on the ferry to Athens.”

I know I should be pissed, we wasted the whole day yesterday with me running around the villa in a leather loincloth, but for some reason I'm not. Instead I nod, and finish off my own juice. “Can we get to this guy today?”

“Let me call the airport, file a flight plan,” Larissa says, smirking. “If you would please, pack our bags?”

I nod, smirking back. “Can I take the loincloth?”

Larissa chuckles, looking me up and down. “Careful... I might want to have Boy back sometimes if you do.”

I laugh, going back to my bedroom where I quickly pack my bag before going into Larissa's room. Her bag is mostly packed already, and I grab only the few things from the laundry that I saw her wear the past two days before going back out, seeing her get off the phone. “We're good?”

She nods, putting her phone in her pocket. “We're cleared for takeoff starting in an hour. The airport's busy, so we only have an hour window after that to be in the air. Are you ready?”

The flight back is enjoyable, I'm able to relax more and I take a few minutes while we fly to appreciate the way Larissa looks behind the controls. “I think I understand more from yesterday, too.”

“Really?” she asks curiously. “Any insights you wish to share?”

“Not yet. Understanding and explaining are two different things,” I reply, and Larissa nods. We're silent for the rest of the flight back to Kalamata, getting her car this time and driving to Corinth.

“I've never been in his club, but they never gave me reason to think I needed to,” Larissa says as she drives, her eyes tight. “That son of a... this whole time, an hour from me, and I didn't know.”

“You said you just took over the position, how could you have known?” I ask, and Larissa shakes her head, not accepting my point. I guess I can understand, it would burn me up to to live so close to my target and not even know they were there.

“We're here,” Larissa says as we cross the Corinthian isthmus and I'm looking out on the eastern shore of this narrow point of Greece. “Club Apollyon.”

“It looks like a normal bar,” I note as we get out, my pistol now comfortably tucked in the small of my back. “Not much of a club.”

“Probably doesn't make any money from it either. But it gives him a space to evaluate recruits,” Larissa says, her face paling. “My god....”

“What?”

She shakes her head, and walks towards the front door. “Keep your eyes open.”

The bar is dimly lit, and as soon as we walk in I can see that we're outnumbered. There has to be at least a dozen men in the bar, all of them armed by the looks of it under their suit coats, all of them sitting around a table looking at the man at the head of the table, Arthur Pinchot.

“Well, I see we're late for the Tuesday meeting of the Lions Club, sorry about that guys,” I quip, reaching for the gun on my back, but three other men are just as fast, and I freeze, glancing at Larissa. “So, what now?”

“Do not worry, I don't want a war with you or your organization,” Arthur says to Larissa, standing up. “Join me in my office, my men can wait here. Please.”

He's got a slight French accent to his English, and as he stands up, Larissa takes a deep breath, glancing at me. “Your choice. We walk out, or we go to his office.”

“We go talk,” I reply, my eyes not leaving any of the men around the table as we walk past them, one of them stepping in my way, saying something in Greek. “Hey fuckstain, I don't speak Greek.”

“No gun!” he says, reaching for me, but his hand never touches me as I grab his wrist and twist, locking his arm and bending him over in an instant. Hands reach for guns, and I glare, shaking my head. Pinchot says something harshly in Greek, and the men relax.

“I told my men that with all of them out here, you are not stupid enough to try and kill me in a suicide mission,” Pinchot translates for me. “I would recommend that you don't give them reason to doubt me.”

I let go of the man and shove him away, keeping my eyes on all of them as we enter Pinchot's office, Larissa taking a seat like things were normal while Pinchot goes over to a collection of decanters on the wall and selects an amber liquid. “Brandy?”

“No thanks,” Larissa says, and I shake my head, playing it strong and silent. Larissa knows this world better than I do, I'm going to have my hands full just getting us out of here alive.

“So what brings The Network's Dryad to my humble club?” Pinchot asks. “We've never had the opportunity before.”

“You never did anything to garner my attention before,” Larissa says. “But that changed a few weeks ago. Word is you know what happened to Chastity Hendricks.”

“The American politician's girl?” Pinchot responds calmly, taking a sip of brandy. “Never met her. Would have liked to though. Pretty girl, I bet she was quite tight.”

His words have me trembling in rage, but I control myself, glaring at Pinchot while Larissa takes a deep breath. “So your... group had no contact with Chastity Hendricks or her family? I'm asking because her death crossed a line that The Network is not going to let go lightly.”

Pinchot shrugs, sitting down. “No. I never met the girl, I didn't have a thing to do with her disappearance or her death. Your Network has nothing to worry about from my little... tour group.”

“Tour group?” I ask, losing my patience. “You son of a bitch, you kill people to get your rocks off!”

“Mmm, yes I suppose some might see it that way,” Pinchot says. “Have you ever felt a girl's dying spasms with your cock as you choke her to death? Nothing quite like it in the world.”

I nearly reach for my gun, but I remember Larissa's lessons to me last night, and I keep control. “I swear, some night very, very soon, you're going to open your front door and I'm going to be there, knife in hand to carve your balls off of your dead body.”

“I've done that as well. I think this conversation is finished however,” Pinchot says. “I would not expect us to be seeing each other again.”

“We'll see, won't we?” I growl, opening the door. I lead Larissa out, keeping my back to the wall and Larissa covered as we leave the club and get in her car, driving away before anyone can follow us. Safely inside, I slam my fist against the dash, cursing. “Fuck!”

“So what's next?” Larissa asks, and I shake my head. “We can go in force if you want.”

“By the time we assemble any group large enough to take out that club, he'll have evaporated. You didn't even know he was in the area, he's obviously good at disappearing. How many fake ID's does he have anyway?”

“Probably quite a few,” Larissa says. “I can try and see what Network resources we can get in town quietly, or we can try and hit him when he's out of the club.”

“Now that he knows we're interested in him though, he's going to be cautious. Okay, see if your people can track down where he lives, what else they know about him. I don't expect much, if I were him I'd live in a house that's in a name not my own, but who knows. I need to send a weekly progress report to the CIA anyway,” I fume. “Are you okay?”

Larissa nods. “That wasn't the first time I stared down a roomful of men with guns with nothing but a smile and guts. This time was even easier, I had a partner backing me up.”

“In any case, we need to move quickly and with no mistakes,” I comment. “So the townhouse?”

“I have some Network things that must be taken care of,” Larissa says. “Mostly within my own clubs. Things like payroll, some management, rather boring but necessary. I'll drop you off at the townhouse and take care of those the rest of the evening. Maybe the quiet will let you think of a good plan, and we can talk about resources when I get home.”

She drops me off, and I'm nervous as I watch her drive away. It's just a feeling, a prickling at the back of my neck that worries me. I know it's stupid, but as I go upstairs to the penthouse and sit down at my computer to try and type out a progress report, I keep making mistakes.

I know what I'm worried about. I'm worried about Larissa for some reason. I shouldn't be, her club is secure and she's got men there to guard her, but I still am worried as my report progresses. I finish the first page and re-read what I just wrote, cursing to myself and erasing a good third of it to edit it for Penny's system. God what a fucking mess.

I groan, leaning back and rubbing at my eyes when I see that I've got a missed call on my phone. It's Victoria, and I call her back, hoping the calming voice of my sister can help me get my thoughts organized.

“Hey Vic,” I greet her when she picks up. “How's life in the land of burgers and fries?”

“Not so good,” Victoria says. “I got a call the other day from a friend. You didn't tell me that you're working with Larissa The Dryad.”

“You know her?” I ask, shocked. “And how'd you find out?”

“When a friend tells me that my only brother is seen on a nude beach with his cock nearly at full staff walking next to her, I tend to pay attention!” Victoria yells heatedly. “What are you doing with that sadistic bitch?”

Where the fuck is this coming from? I blink, stunned, my headache from trying to write my progress report just growing instead. “Larissa is helping me on my mission. Just what do you know about her anyway?”

Victoria stops, then her voice comes back sadly. “She's fucking you, isn't she?”

“That's none of your business if she is or not,” I reply. “What's between us is purely professional, Victoria. Now, how do you know about Larissa?”

“They do a lot of modeling shoots done in Greece, you dimwit,” Victoria says, still pained. “And Mykonos is one of those places that they love to use. A lot of those girls get up to crazy shit while on that island. I did too a little, but never as bad as that psycho. She likes to peg men, you know that?”

“Just what is pegging, anyway?” I ask, realizing I still haven't looked that up. “Larissa mentioned it.”

“It's taking a strap on dildo and fucking a guy in his ass like a faggot bitch,” Victoria says. “I was offered fifteen thousand dollars once by a guy to do it. I turned it down, but this bitch... she does it for fun. Taking strong, handsome, powerful men like you and turning them into her little fuck toys. I don't want to see that happen to you, Stephen. You're my guy, remember?”

Her voice is plaintive, beseeching, and I sigh. “Vic, you know that no matter what you're always going to be my sister. I love you. But you gotta start letting me go some Victoria. Yeah, I know about Larissa's past, and it's not all that it appears to be. I can't tell you more than that.”

Victoria sounds like she's about to cry, but sniffs instead. “Stephen, please... I love you too. I need you, little brother. I know that you call it professional but... but I can hear it in your voice. She's working her shit on you too, and pretty soon my sweet little brother who I want to spend the rest of my life with is going to be gone and one of The Dryad's broken butt boys is going to be left behind. Please... come back to me Stephen.”

“I'm coming back, Victoria. I promise you that. Me and Larissa, it's just professional. A professional partnership for one mission, okay?”

Even as I say it part of me says it's more, but I can't tell Victoria that. She sniffs again, but sounds at least a little better when she speaks up again. “Okay, I guess. Just, when we get back, I've got a back rub with your name written on it, mister!”

I laugh, that's better. Even if I hate to break it to Victoria that she's not the best back rub I've ever had now. “I'll take you up on it, Vic. I've got to get a report done though or else I'm never going to get home. Are you okay though, really?”

“Tell me you love me again and I'll be,” Victoria says, and I smile.

“Of course I love you Victoria. You're my big sister, I'll love you my entire life. Okay?”

“Okay. I love you too. Get your paperwork done, and call me later.” Victoria hangs up and I rub my forehead, trying to focus. Just what the hell got into her? She's never asked me about my operations before, and the way she was so... just so angry about the fact that I was seen with Larissa.

I don't know, maybe it's that whoever told her told her about my cock. A lot of sisters have problems realizing that their brothers are actually sexual beings too. I've never worried about it, I mean I'm sure Victoria's had boyfriends that she's slept with, and as long as I'm not in the room I'm not going to care what she gets up to. She probably just thinks I'm the innocent guy that she's imagined me to be all this time.

I go back to my report, trying my best to edit things down before Larissa gets back. I'm just going over the relevant parts of the trip to Mykonos when there's a frantic knock on the door, and a breathy voice begging outside. “Mister Stephen! Mister Stephen, please help!”

I go to the door, my pistol by my leg as I look out and see that it's not the door, but a video screen with a decent speaker system. I look out and see Lihua, her eyes panicked and her voice breaking. “Lihua? What's wrong?”

Lihua babbles in Chinese so fast that even I can't understand, and I cut her off, again in Chinese. “Lihua, calm down! I'll buzz you in if you promise that you're alone!”

“I'm alone, I was one of the only ones who got out!” Lihua says, and I feel my heart catch in my throat. I buzz her in, waiting anxiously for the door to the elevator open and the diminutive Chinese girl to emerge, wearing little more than a rag and skimpy shorts, her face puffy and bruised. “Mister Stephen!”

“Shhh, Lihua, shhh,” I comfort her, pulling her inside and wrapping my arms around the panicked girl. “Okay, what happened? Larissa?”

“I was just finishing with a good customer when they hit,” Lihua says, shivering. “Eight men, all of them with guns. One of them had a shotgun and he shot the security men, and then they stormed the club. They got Mistress Larissa, and when they were dragging her off, Claudia... oh poor Claudia.”

“They got Larissa?” I ask, and Lihua nods.

“They put her in a van, saying the boss had questions for her. Mister Stephen, they killed the security men, they shot Claudia! What are we going to do?” Lihua begs, her eyes panicked. I take her in my arms and hold the trembling girl, my mind whirling.

First, I have to make sure Lihua stays safe. She's right here, and she's innocent. Second, I have to find Larissa. Finally, I have to make sure that her cover isn't blown. “Is there anyone from Larissa's part of The Network in town?”

Lihua sniffles, wrapping her arms around me. “Yes Mister Stephen.”

“Then call them. Tell them that I'm going after Larissa. Tell them... tell them to get in touch with The Composer, that Pinchot is involved. He'll understand.”

Lihua nods, holding me tighter. “Yes Master.”

“I'm not your Master, Lihua, I told you that,” I reply, but I don't let go of her. “Let's get you to safety.”

“You are a Master,” Lihua says, letting go. “There's more ways to be someone's Master than just fucking me. You're going to protect the Mistress who I serve willingly. You are my Master too then.”

I look at this strong, quiet little woman's face, then nod. “Okay. Just remember who your top Mistress is. In the meantime, I need to get armed.”

“I can help you with that. I know where the guns are at the club,” Lihua says.

I nod, then look at her mostly naked form. “First we get you a t-shirt and some shorts. You're a lot skinnier than Larissa, but there's no way you could wear anything I have.”

“I can wear your t-shirt like a dress,” Lihua mentions, and I nod, taking her into my bedroom and grabbing a red t-shirt and tossing it to her. She pulls it over her head and she's right, it hangs nearly long enough to be a dress in itself she's so tiny. “Thank you, Master.”

“It's yours now,” I tell her, and she smiles bravely. “Now, take me to the club.”