The voice in those headphones I'd been hooked up to all night had
dramatically changed my opinion of him. He was wearing a robe, and he
looked so virile and dashing. I gave him a smile and a flirty wave, my
shoulder bashfully meeting my chin. He liked that.
"Good morning," he said, as he eased himself into the deck chair next to
mine. "I trust you slept well?"
"Like a baby," I assured.
He nodded. "Now that you've had a chance to sleep on it, don't you
think it's time to be honest with me?"
I couldn't remember ever being dishonest with him. "What are you going
on about?"
"I want to know the details of your mission, and what GIA intended to
learn about me," he said patiently.
He was still worried about that ridiculous spy thing, and his bringing
it up was starting to feel like foreplay. I thought it was kind of
endearing. "Baby, I told you. I'm not a spy anymore." I reached out with
a toe to lift his robe.
Arturo sat up quickly and grabbed my ankle. It didn't hurt, but I was
surprised by his speed. "Nina, you will tell me why GIA sent you." He was
speaking loudly, clearly.
I gave him one of my famous looks, the kind that tends to make the
recipient forget that anyone else exists in the world. His grip on my
ankle loosened, so I took the opportunity to hop up and straddle his waist.
"Look," I said, brushing my lips against his. "You and I both know that
I'd do anything you asked. I could never lie to you." I nibbled on his
ear. "I don't work for GIA any more."
He just sat there, taking in my affections, carefully watching my eyes
even though my boobs were right under his nose. I was a little scared,
because I could tell he'd had a few lines for breakfast. The bloke had a
nasty habit, and a tendency to get violent, as my bruised cheek could
attest. But I guess I forgot how incredibly fucking charming I can be.
His big hands encircled my waist, and he smiled broadly. "I'm sure you
have no peer among your fellow agents..." he began.
I cut him off by slipping my tongue between his lips. After an
elaborate kiss, I insisted, "I am not a goddam agent," breathing the words
onto his face.
His hands traveled up my abdomen. "It's been fun trying to break you,
and it appears the job is not finished." He punctuated this thought with a
kiss of his own. "I estimate that I have another day or so to interrogate
you before arousing suspicion from your handlers." Another kiss. I started
ever so gently squeezing my hips against his. "I will try my own methods
once more, and if they don't work, I will bring in a specialist this
evening."
"What specialist?" I asked, as I felt the familiar sting on my hip. Did
this guy always keep happy drugs on his person?
He concentrated on giving me the injection, then kissed me again. I was
already starting to feel wobbly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
He waited patiently, as I fought to stay astride him during the head
rush. When I started to sway, he informed me, "I've given you a much
stronger dose this time. I do enjoy our witty repartee, but I'm running
out of time."
My lips were quite loose. "You paranoid fuck," I said tenderly. "How
many ways do you want me to say it? I'm not lying to you." I felt around
for his dick, underneath the robe, and gave it a good squeeze.
He grabbed my hips and lifted me up. "I'd like it very much if you'd
jump into the pool."
I was obeying him before I could even try to wonder if it was a good
idea for me to throw my fucked up self into the water. I tossed my hair
back, stepped away from him, and dove into the deep end. When I surfaced,
I noticed he'd joined me. I was glad he wanted to do me in the water,
because his gardener was piddling around the yard, along with a couple of
maids, and his guards. It wasn't the most intimate setting. Plus, I was
slick with suntan oil and chlorine, and my wet bikini looked fabulous. I
felt like the sun-kissed summer Goddess of the Pool. I raised my arms to
the pool deck in invitation.
He did something behind my neck, then behind my back, and I saw my
bikini top float by. I wrapped my legs around him and said, "Do whatever
you want with me."
But I should've been more specific, because he told me to get out of the
water and lie down on the deck. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I
climbed the ladder, topless in front of his staff, and meekly took my place
on the hot concrete. Warm water dribbled off of me and made a hot puddle
under my back.
Arturo emerged from the pool and created some shade over me for a
moment. I thought he was admiring my bod, but I heard a soft thud next to
me. "On this," he proclaimed. I turned clumsily to see a huge clear
plastic float. I guess he didn't want me to get abrasions from the rough
concrete. Either that, or he had some colorful fantasies about fucking
young, blond pool nymphs like myself. I was eager for his odd brand of
man-love, so I hopped onto the float and peeled off my wet bikini bottoms.
The drug was really kicking in now, and the intensity was uncomfortable.
I kept almost forgetting that he was going to fuck me in front of several
of his employees. I'm red right now, just thinking about it, but at the
time it was reduced to a vague bother.
He pushed my legs apart and climbed on top of me. The float groaned
under us. He wasn't hard yet, which was a little insulting. Maybe it was
because we were putting on a show for his employees. He began to grind his
semi-limp dick against my very warm, moist labia, and I sucked his earlobe
to encourage him. His cock kept brushing my clit, and about the time I was
ready to come, he tentatively pushed inside me. He slid all the way in,
real easy, and barely a few thrusts later, I was helplessly shivering
against his hips as I came.
I was limp in afterglow, but he was just getting warmed up. All I could
do was just lie there, feeling my wet skin squeak against the float, while
he gave me a proper banging. My hair was stuck to my face, and my feet
were starting to get sunburned, but Arturo never let up. When I remembered
where I was, I came instantly, which happened every few minutes. And every
orgasm melted me into that plastic float a little more.
He didn't show any signs of coming any time soon. He was, in short, a
fuck machine. I think he banged me for half an hour, while I took to
dozing off between orgasms. I'm guessing, but he seemed to get a thrill
out of fucking me while I was asleep, and an even bigger thrill when I'd
suddenly wake up and have another savage climax. I guess I wasn't
conscious when he shot his wad.
He gently tapped me awake, then we went through the same song and dance
about the Spy Thing. Then he got very angry, and I passed out.
***
When I finally came to, I was lying on linen sheets. Dressed in my
bikini, with a couple of odd accessories. One was a gas mask; some kind of
hospital thing. I didn't like the way the gas smelled, or the way it made
me want to hurl. When I realized I had electrodes dangling from my
forehead, I tried to sit up. A bald, bespectacled man unceremoniously
shoved me back down.
"Just relax, Nina," Arturo soothed from somewhere in the room. "Soon
you'll have no more worries."
I didn't like the sound of that. "What's going on?" I slurred.
"You've left me with no other option, Agent Suenaga-Wentley," he shot
back.
I felt the prickle of intense fear, which didn't get on well with my
intense nausea. "What are you going to do to me?"
"My methods, thus far, have been temporary," he explained, as if to a
pre-schooler. "In a few days, you'd recover. My associate will try a more
permanent solution. He will extract the information I require, and after
that, you'll belong to me."
I wanted to go ahead and faint, before I got sick. But the idea of
being the property of Arturo for the rest of my life was even more
revolting. "Please," I began, but the room started to spin.
Then I heard a familiar voice say, "I think Ms. Nina is all finished
here." Followed by lots of panicked scrambling and the distinct *bip-bip*
of a silenced pistol. The bald man pitched awkwardly over me, and I felt
something wet splash onto my stomach. Then strong hands ripped the gas
mask off my face, and the most beautiful woman who ever existed kissed my
forehead.
"Let's get you out of here, kid," said Assistant Director Akiko Masumi.
"Oh God, baby!" I warbled. My voice was thick with the gas I'd been
anaesthetized with. "I'm so glad to see you! This bloke thought I..."
"Shhhh-shhh-shh," she soothed, rubbing my temples. "We're going home."
I relaxed, drinking in her calm, professional self, resplendent in what
I liked to call her Uniform: black tank, black cargo pants and boots. Then
something in my guts demanded my attention. "Sorry," I warned. "I'm going
to be sick now."
She chivalrously directed my head toward her boots as I did the
Technicolor Yawn.
***
So that's my story about how working for GIA got me kidnapped and almost
turned into a turnip. Like I said earlier, you won't find stories like
that in the brochure. Think about it.
For those of you dying to know how my love life turned out, read on.
After Akiko collected me from a now very dead Arturo's home, we spent a
few days at a hospital in L.A., where the doctors decided I was none the
worse for wear, and could go home. Akiko flew with me to Sydney, which was
nice, because I had this lingering tendency to sit very quietly, waiting to
be told what to do.
She stayed with me at my apartment, and when I was up to it, we had what
I'd like to think was the best makeup sex ever. Ever ever ever. At least,
all the broken shit in my bedroom will attest to that.
There were no arguments when I announced to my manager that I wanted to
record my record in Sydney.
The suits at Virgin were horrified to learn that I'd been abducted while
in the States, and shocked that I had a mysterious connection to the
Shadowy Forces (i.e., the love of my life) that had promptly terminated the
perpetrator. They wanted to know more than Akiko and I told them; there
were remarks about National Security and knowing winks. Somehow, all the
cloak and dagger stuff made them love me even more.
I had to intervene when they made noises about firing Christa. It only
took a few minutes to convince them that what went down in Arturo's mansion
was a little beyond her skill set, and that she shouldn't be punished for
it. A lovely, handwritten letter of thanks showed up a week later, signed
"Catch you on the flipside, Love, Christa."
One night I asked Akiko, "How did you find me?" I'd asked before, but
she got a certain look on her face that I can elicit when I run my yap too
much.
This time she looked embarrassed. "You're not going to like it," she
warned, but I just kissed her until she got over it. She explained that
she'd been keeping tabs on me, and when I went to L.A., she just "happened"
to have business in San Francisco. She'd made arrangements with Christa,
who was led to believe that Akiko represented a private security company;
so private I didn't need to know about it! The night of the party, Christa
thought I sounded weird on the phone, and she got worried the next day
because she rang my cell, like, a zillion times and I never picked up. She
felt that not having contact with me for twelve hours fell within the
parameters stipulated by Akiko as a "possible situation," and dutifully
rang her up. It didn't take long for Akiko to come charging to my rescue.
"So," I said, running my fingers through her hair. "You were stalking
me ever since we broke up."
"Yeah," she whispered, absurdly adorable in her embarrassment.
"You didn't think I could watch out for myself," I observed, loving how
squirmy she got.
"Well..." she attempted.
I just looked at her, milking the moment. But not for long.
"Thank you baby," I said.
We're looking for an apartment, now that she's transferred to GIA
Sydney. But don't jinx me, because we just started looking yesterday, and I
don't know how this is going to play out.
Wish me luck!
END