by Raine Miller
He stopped eating and put his sandwich down. He took a sip of beer. “It bothers me a hell of a lot, but it’s the results that matter.”
“I don’t understand the psychology. What if this Kadir realizes I’m not a true submissive? How can I possibly be good at this in a few days?”
“You’re playing a role, just as if you were working undercover on any other mission. Except in this one, there’s sex involved. BDSM is about trust, but also about a power shift, surrendering control.”
She covered her face with her hands. “That’s the problem. It’s against every natural instinct to give over my power, surrender control to an evil person who murders to advance his position and wealth and claims to have God’s blessing.”
“The war on terrorism is being fought in unusual, subtle ways. You’ll be a hero, but the world will never know. Do you know how many heroes there are in the world that the general public doesn’t know about?”
“I don’t want the glory. I want to stop the bad guy.” She pounded her fist on the table.
“Let me help you.”
“All right.” She leaned back in her chair and stared into her antique light hanging over the table. Her thoughts were in a tailspin. “What about my brother? I just got a text. His code says it’s bad over there.”
Jason made a face. “It is bad, and it might not be a good idea that’s he’s texting you.”
“I know.” He didn’t press it, and she was grateful. “Promise me we’ll be okay when it’s over.”
He got to his feet and pulled her up. His hands held her face as he looked intensely into her eyes, his brows furrowed in deep lines. “This is a mission against terrorism and a means to prevent wars, to at least maintain some element of stability in the world. It has nothing to do with our relationship, as complicated as it becomes. You mean everything to me. I won’t let any harm come to you.”
She smiled and nodded, although her smile felt a bit weak. He hadn’t said he loved her, never had. Even though they weren’t working CIA anymore, relationships hadn’t gotten any easier. “I think I can do this if you’re present.”
He made a face again. “They don’t want me in the room.”
“Too bad. I want you there.”
“They feel it will distract you and Kadir will sense our connection.”
“I’ll tell them you have to be there.” She sat back down and picked up her sandwich.
He sat. “We’ll talk to them.” When he finished his sandwich, he got up and placed his plate in the sink, then grabbed the other bag. He took out a manila envelope and opened a folder that contained photos and a printout of information. “Intel collected on Kadir.”
Zoe picked up photos of a man with two women who were naked and lying at his feet. The man held a bullwhip high in one hand. He was bare-chested and had on a pair of loose-fitting pants. His feet were bare.
“How do you know this is Kadir?”
“It was taken by cell phone at a distance, so the photo isn’t clear. The computer printouts are of a number of hard-core S&M sites he’s visited recently on his laptop, home and work computers. We confirmed his IP addresses.”
She flipped through twenty pages of URLs and IP addresses. He used a number of computers and his cell phone to search and download photos from these sites. “I see a few kiddie-porn sites. Now I hate this guy even more.”
“There are thousands of these sites, but many are tracked. It’s not hard to pick out which foreign dignitaries are potential targets for the FLC by monitoring these sites. We like to have numerous criteria met before we make a decision. A lot of men search porn sites, not a big deal. We want the world leaders who are sexually obsessed with a particular lifestyle that their people and peers would find extremely offensive.”
He shoved the photo of the two women back to Zoe. “Study that photo and tell me what else you see.”
She looked closer. “Oh God. There are crisscrossing lines of blood all over their backs. He was whipping them that hard?” A shiver went through her as she imagined the severity of that pain.
“What else?”
“Oh no. Is he standing in a pool of blood?”
Jason’s expression grew grim, and his voice lowered. “Yes, blood from the two women. He slit their throats. See the knife sheathed at his hip?”
“Yes.” Zoe felt sick.
“One more item to notice in this photo. Look closely.”
She studied it again, then threw the photo onto the pile. “He has a fucking hard-on.”
Jason collected the folder and stuffed it back into the envelope. “Ready to meet me tomorrow for another lesson?”
“No. I’m ready now.”
“I had a feeling.” He reached inside the bag and slowly pulled out a long rope. After seeing those women tied and murdered, Zoe felt a wave of nausea pass through her.
“What are you going to do with the rope?”
“Give you a lesson in power exchange and surrender. Do you trust me?”
***
Melissa heard the shouting coming from the office of Eric Rowland, chief of staff. Rowland’s voice bellowed at an unknown victim. She was smart enough not to walk in on that. “What the hell is going on?” she mumbled to Alana, whose doe eyes had widened. “Who’s in there? Doesn’t Eric know we have a presentation in a half hour?”
“Are they calling off my presentation?” Alana sounded disappointed, stuffing her hands deeper in the pockets of her trench coat. “We’ve been preparing for weeks.”
“I doubt it. There’s too much at stake,” Melissa said. “He better make it quick. I still need to get changed.”
“I don’t want to stand in the hallway dressed like this.” Alana opened her coat for a second so only Melissa could see her outfit.
“Very nice.” Beneath Alana’s trench coat, she wore a green lacy camisole with matching thong, garter, sheer stockings and spike heels. They would use a private office, previously arranged for these events, so they could change, walk through the scene they had planned, and get mentally psyched. Melissa had a leather corset, thong, and thigh-high boots stuffed in a tote bag slung over her shoulder. They were both part of this particular presentation.
“Not sure if you want to go in there,” Tyler said. He was the other FLC member who was involved with this presentation and was waiting outside the open door to the office with his stern Secret Service expression.
“Is the first lady in there?” Melissa asked.
“Not yet. She should be arriving soon,” he said.
Melissa waited a few moments, hoping the arguing would settle. It didn’t. Alana’s eyes held troubled concern. Melissa motioned Alana toward the office. “Before your two guests arrive, let’s see if we can stop this pissing contest or whatever it is.” Tyler followed them.
“I don’t like the sound of this,” Alana whispered to Melissa as she opened the door and they walked in.
“It’s a bad idea. Aleid and Gerard are terrorists in training.” Rowland pointed his finger at Julia, who glared back at him with her arms crossed. “We can’t trust them. The FLC should be shut down. It’s outdated and should not be used for manipulating foreign policies or fighting terrorism. It’s an insult to this administration, to say the least, and a major risk to national security. Never mind how this type of thing could destroy our reputation and credibility as a nation if it ever became public.” He lowered his voice, glancing at the three at his door but continuing. “The first lady is out of control if she thinks these sex stunts and videos will change the world.”
“You prefer to fight wars that never end,” Julia argued, her voice equally low but severe.
“No, I’m saying the FLC doesn’t work. It was set up by Lincoln to keep his wife out of his hair while he tried to save a country from collapse. He wanted to make her think she was doing something important.”
Julia shook her head. “That’s not what’s in the FLC’s recorded history.”
Rowland growled and slammed his hand on his des
k. “Recorded history can be interpreted in a number of ways.”
Melissa had never seen Rowland so angry.
“I have to agree with Rowland,” security adviser Frank Phillips said in an even tone as he stepped into the room. “Fucking your enemy into submission isn’t the best method to direct foreign policy. The military is prepared to handle this if the peace talks fail.”
Melissa opened her mouth. Two against one wasn’t fair, and she had to say her piece. These men were way off base. She wasn’t about to let them undermine a program that had proven results, especially when they were ready to proceed with a target in a matter of minutes. “Military action can work to a point. Sometimes other options are necessary,” Melissa said. “It’s easy to recognize a military man. They tend to prefer the military course of action.” Eric Rowland might appear to most to look like a college professor with his large-framed glasses and slightly wavy hair. But he’d once served as a helicopter pilot in the National Guard prior to getting into politics.
Frank grinned, not in a pleasant way. He walked up to Melissa and got in her face, nose to nose. “In your last job, were your johns a lot of military and ex-cons?”
She didn’t flinch. “I was a Domme, a professional, not a prostitute, and I graduated from Harvard. Where did you matriculate?”
“West Point.”
She nodded, conceding a little. “Nice. Then you should have better manners.”
“Enough of this,” Julia said. “If you have a problem with the FLC, you can talk to the president or the first lady in the morning. Right now we have two guests arriving any minute. To back out now would raise suspicion.”
“I’ll do that,” Eric snapped.
“Excuse me, Julia. Would you like Alana and me downstairs?” Melissa asked.
Julia’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to Melissa, putting a hold on her question, and answered the phone. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. I’ll meet you.” She clicked off. “They’re here. The first lady just met them in the hall. Yes, Melissa. You and Alana get ready in the Red Tape Room. Tell video it’s a go. Masks on.”
When Melissa left the chief of staff’s office and entered the main hallway, she glanced toward the front entrance. The first lady was greeting two young black men and General Terrence Guzman, secretary of Defense.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Alana asked.
“Hang on a second. Let’s see.” They stopped and watched the first lady talking to the general with a tight smile. She pointed to Frank and Tyler. The excuse was that the first lady was giving President Turi Aleid and Prime Minister Miron Gerard a private tour of the White House during the cocktail hour at the Capitol Building, since the delegates from Chad wouldn’t be able to stay long. The general tried unsuccessfully to speak but was repeatedly interrupted by the first lady. Finally, he nodded and left.
“I have no idea what that was about,” Melissa said, “but I’ll bet Faith is annoyed. Let’s go. We have a party of our own to give, and the guests have arrived.”
CHAPTER 17
Zoe walked into her living room wearing nothing but black heels and a tailored blouse, unbuttoned, no bra or panties, as Jason had instructed. She fought the tide of fear and uncertainty. Her body quivered with need for him, but this wasn’t about them. This was about using her body for manipulation. How was she supposed to keep the two separate? Jason knew the more dangerous the situation, the more frantic their desire for each other became. Didn’t he realize that by working together in the FLC, he’d put them in the middle of a minefield?
In the center of the room, Jason had cleared away the coffee table and stood holding a length of rope coiled in one hand. Wearing only jeans, he looked hot, but she couldn’t read his expression. CIA agents were skilled at hiding their emotions. She wished, just this one time, that she could read his.
The room had a soft glow with the lights dimmed, a lemongrass candle burning on a side table. He didn’t move. Heat smoldered in his eyes as he looked her up and down. Her pussy gave a twitch, and her nipples tightened as the seconds ticked by. She knew if she tried covering herself, he’d scold her. The longer he looked at her, the more nervous and turned on she felt. Was this part of her lesson?
“Is this all right?” She glanced down at her shirt and shoes, holding the shirt open a little wider to show she wasn’t self-conscious, even though she was.
His mouth quirked slightly, as if fighting off a grin. “Is this all right, what?”
She took in a breath, suddenly realizing her mistake. “Sir. Is this all right, sir?”
“It’s perfect. Tell me what you’re thinking right now,” he said. “I sense your mind is struggling with something.”
“I’m not struggling. Maybe a little apprehensive, because I don’t know what you have planned. I realize this isn’t about us. It’s about understanding and getting a lifestyle routine down right.”
He frowned and stared at her, as if she’d said something wrong and, like a child, was waiting for her to figure it out. “Don’t overthink.”
She looked up at him indignantly.
“By the time we’re done, it will be about your sexual exploration. Whether you decide BDSM is something you enjoy or hate, it will be difficult to leave your emotions out of it. Trying to go through the motions by responding in predictable ways like an automaton is a very bad idea. Your target will know. You don’t have to like it, but you have to connect with your Dom and the pain, his discipline on a deeper emotional level.”
“How can I do that when I know who he is?”
“Live in the moment and know you have people there who are protecting you. You have the power as a submissive to stop it at any time. He will know that. That is a rule in the Red Tape Room. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He walked up to her, placed his hand under her chin. “That defiant tilt of your chin you did a moment ago? Don’t do that again to me or to your target during a scene or expect a severe punishment.”
She lowered her eyes.
“It’s sexy as hell, but that type of defiance is not typical for a submissive,” he added as his mouth came down on hers. The kiss was sensuous and slow at first, then his tongue thrust into her mouth, and her whole body responded with tiny shivers. He broke the kiss the moment she tried leaning into him.
“Now, kneel on the floor and sit on your heels, back straight, palms flat on your thighs.” He’d taken the throw blanket from the sofa and stretched it out on the floor.
She did as he instructed, then waited. He placed the rope on the floor in front of her, then he took several items out of his bag. A flogger, a vibrator, nipple clamps, lubricant and a pair of scissors. She frowned at the scissors. He noticed.
Holding them up, he opened and closed them in a cutting motion. “If I need to punish you, I do some cutting. You didn’t say you were squeamish about blood.”
She stared at the scissors, not sure what to say. A chill raced through her. He wouldn’t cut her, would he?
He laughed. “No, I won’t cut you. That’s what they call a mindfuck. The scissors are a precaution, so I can cut the rope if I can’t untie the knots. Or for a quick release.”
“Oh.” She smiled, relieved.
“Some of what I’m going to do, I’ll explain, some I won’t explain because you need to learn to guard your responses and expressions. A trained Dom will be able to read the slightest muscle twitch. In the lifestyle, it’s a good thing. In our situation, not so much. If he suspects you’re trying to fake it…”
“I understand, sir.”
Jason tied the rope around one wrist, testing to make sure it wasn’t too tight, then made her lie on her back on the floor, knees up. “A completely neutral expression won’t work either. Our target doesn’t want a robot as a submissive.”
He tied her wrist to her ankle, then wrapped a length around her thigh so she couldn’t stretch out that leg. He continued up along her side and bound her breasts in a snug figure-eight pattern. Ja
son slid the rope meticulously over her skin, tying small knots to create a delicate lacework.
Zoe relaxed, intrigued by his sensual movements. With each knot, she lost a little more mobility and became more aroused. Her knees were up and legs spread, exposing her pussy. Her breasts swelled from the restraining ropes and also her arousal. When his fingers brushed over her erect nipples, she gasped and felt her clit throb.
The sensual demonstration continued until he ran out of rope and Zoe was completely restrained. Her arms and legs would not move, and she couldn’t sit up or roll to her side if she tried. “This feels so strange—”
“Shhh,” he scolded her. “I didn’t give you permission to speak or ask you a question.”
She frowned and made a face. He smacked her bottom with a cane, and she cried out.
“Watch your expressions.”
“What did I do, sir?” She cast her eyes down to show him she wanted to know.
“You gave me an annoyed expression and a frown. Not that a submissive wouldn’t show signs of annoyance once in a while, but your Dom would have to punish you for it. We just got started.”
“I understand, sir. I’ll be more careful.”
“Are you comfortable? Feeling any discomfort anywhere?” he asked. “The ropes aren’t too tight?” He checked them again.
“No, sir. I feel fine. A little strange but okay.”
“Strange how?”
She didn’t answer right away. How did she tell him she kind of liked it? He smacked her ass with the cane, and it really hurt. “Ow.”
“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.”
“Yes, sir. I’m conflicted.”
Jason’s voice softened. “Conflicted about what?” He stroked her thigh in a non-sensual way.
Zoe wanted him to touch her breasts. She was so turned on right now. She’d even liked the flogger earlier. The cane, too, was getting her hot and wet. How would she get through this training? “What if Kadir wants to fuck me?”
“It’s rarely about the sex. It’s about the control. Can you handle it if that happens?”
