She started to laugh out loud at the thought and actually began to swing a bit like the little girl he used to call her sometimes. Karl Augustus. Local legend? The man who never dates? Is obsessed with work? Good God. yeah, she had Googled him. There wasn't a whole lot on him, but there was enough. His was from an illustrious family, and he did value his privacy.
The press would probably love an exclusive about how he’d disappeared a couple of years ago with the intent to infiltrate a sex slave operation. yeah, somebody with everything to lose might be willing to give them one. While great benefactors Karl’s family was not one you’d want to cross. They were known to stick together and could be somewhat ruthless. While an extreme case Karl was just the tip of the iceberg. According to her research, that Father of his was apparently something else too. Francine had a feeling Karl’s actions weren't as rogue as his mother would have her believe. Nevertheless they were still very brave, reckless even.
The stars were out and the comforting scent of her flowers came to her as she allowed the peace and quiet of her property to settle over her. After her ordeal finding this place was like a balm to her soul, as soon as she’d laid eyes on it for the first time she knew she was home.
A shrill ring came from inside the house dulled by the double doors. Francine wanted to ignore it, the warm evening breeze and the seductive night already lulling her into a snooze, but when the ringing stopped then started up again she gave up and went to pick up the phone. Only one person could be so bold…
She returned outside, cordless in hand, a smooth mezzo soprano voice came over the line. "Fraaaannie! What's going on?"
Silence, "He's here."
An answering silence, then - “So, the mysterious K has finally surfaced, can't say I'm surprised." Paris snorted. "Frannie you have no idea how cute you are, and really, the fact that you don't seem to know it - unbelievable." This coming from a knockout like Paris Spaulding: Esquire who seemed pretty oblivious to her looks most of the time. Francine felt whatever passable beauty she might of had was pretty much eclipsed by Paris whenever she walked into a room; but it was nice to be noticed.
“So,” Paris continued, already knowing the answer (Paris was a smart girl) “are we calling in the Calvary?"
"No." Paris could hear the quiet smile over the phone.
"Figured we weren't.” More gently. “You OK?"
"yeah. He's upstairs.” (and just so she knew) “Nursing blue balls."
Paris let out a crack of laughter. “Good girl!” then she sniffed. "I'd of expected no less."
“Yeah, well it came as quite as of a shock to him.”
“Frannie he's a man, breathing comes as a shock to them. He's on your turf now make him earn it girl. I'll be over tomorrow to be a witness; I mean, take a look at him. But he’s upstairs, now? Frannie, is that wise?”
“He's been hurt, Paris. He showed up and was hurt. Besides, when we - met he took care of me.” The line went silent.
“He'd never hurt me Paris, not really.”
“Well, like I said, I'll be over tomorrow to get a look at him. Please at least say we got a name now-.”
“Oh, you'll just die-“
“Do tell-” Paris’ voice dropped an octave with anticipation-
“Karl Augustus.”
“Karl Augustus!!” Back up two octaves. “The Karl Fucking Augustus?!! He’s the mysterious “K”? I know him Frannie!! We grew up in the same circles, before my family went broke of course... my God! The entrepreneur? The Olympian? Now it's all making sense! Frannie! You do kidnapped with class, good grief! Have you Googled him?
You know he’s an Olympic champion don’t you? Ah, let me think, oh yeah, I remember now, rowing and swimming! He probably could have competed at least one more yeah too, but he was determined after he competed to go to school and get his degree. He is one determined and focused individual Frannie.”
Coming from Paris this was high praise indeed. “He's also extremely committed to the family business and the heir apparent even though he’s not the eldest and he’s not the one going into politics. He just loves his fucking numbers and is obsessed with the family business. Most of their extreme wealth in this generation has been due to his methodical and meticulous business savvy. Fuck me! Girl you are full of surprises! Karl Fucking Augustus.”
Wow! Karl Fucking Augustus is never seen out with anyone. He's like, drop dead gorgeous, but its all numbers and business with him. He's very careful. He took a big risk coming back to be with you, like huge. You saying no to him must be eating him up!”
Francine smiled “Do you think you could say his name without putting fucking in the middle? Remember he was just K to me for weeks.” When he wasn't Master.
“Well I don’t know Francine, Let’s see... Karl Fucking Augustus, I guess not!! Good God Frannie! What are we gonna do with you?”
“Well, I don't know Paris, I don’t have "circles" like you.”
“Well girl, Karl Fucking Augustus?” Paris' laugh sparked through the phone. “You do now!”
Chapter 31
Karl kicked off his heavy boots and laid across the ocean blue bedspread, eyes on the ceiling; he’s restless, horny, and frustrated. He let out a sigh rolled over and pulled out the drawer of the bedside table, out came a leather handcuff, hers from the cabin. He’d kept it with him all this time no matter where he’d gone, what he’d done. Periodically he’d pulls it out like some lovesick teenager rubbing the soft fur lined leather between his big fingers, wondering if she was somewhere thinking about him; wondering how seriously she took his last instructions about forgetting him.
His phone let loose with it’s animated song vibrating against the laminated dark wood, he peeked over to see who it was. The screen read PRIVATE; he picked it up and slid the bar over, “Yeah.”
“Wut’s up?”
“Same ‘ol.” he responded still rubbing gently at the little cuff with his other hand.
“I’m just checking in to see if you're settled with the slave - who wasn’t a slave.” K smiled at Frank’s choice of words, remembering their conversation so many months ago...
“Just keep in mind K, if they are serious about sending you out of town you’ll have to let her go, that is if there is a her. You’ve never been clear on if you have or have not been keeping a collared slave of your own all this time...”
“Well, let’s just say if there was a collared slave she’s un-collared now.” K had responded committing himself to the last dangerous stages of the undercover mission.
“Yeah, I’m settled in just fine.” he said with quiet smile.
“And the slave who was never a slave?” Frank asked.
“Oh, she’s doing great.” A pause, “Bought a great little nursery, got herself a nice house,” he paused looking around his room, the plants even looked accusatory, “learning what the word no sounds like.”
It took a moment for it to sink in and then, Frank let out one of his easy booming laughs, “Really? Oh, that’s great!”
“Yeah, really great.” Karl agreed sarcastically setting down the cuff and trying to get in a more comfortable position with his aching cock.
“Well, you know how women are, you’re gone for eight months are so without a word and they get all sensitive.” Frank was still laughing.
Even K was smiling now Frank’s mirth was contiguous, “Yeah, well, it was for a good cause.”
“Did you tell her that?” It was like the line went dead. “ Did you tell her how you made yourself a target on that boat, when you didn’t have too? Risking everything just for the one chance to come back and be with her?” The line stayed dead. ”No of course you didn't, you damn elusive bastard.
You know, you should be in witness protection now, the risks you took; you could have died K! I seem to remember leaving you two choices and being with her was not one of them! I can’t think of anyone else who could have swam that far in those icy waters except for you. In any case ion. “I distinctly said go into protective cus
tody or to run.”
“Yeah, well I’m not the “running” type. And if I had never gone into The Organization or done what I did, how much longer would it have continued to run Frank? How many women were we able to recover, from here and overseas?” He sat on the edge of the bed and put his elbows on his knees looking out across his bedroom window at the darkening night. “No, it was worth it. Even the time I had to spend away from her, it was worth that too.” Reaching behind him he picked up the little cuff, “I hated leaving her, but now she’s safe, they all are.” And with The Boss missing or dead and most of the men locked up or scattered the organization was finally in shambles.
The line got quiet again, “You're a decent guy K, I’m glad your OK; you have my number.” There was a quiet click and then silence.
* * *
Karl thought back over the past couple of years, it had all started when he realized The Organization was leasing property in Riverland county much of which was owned by his family’s company. If it were made public it would have been a horrific scandal. While the Augustus family overall had a respectable reputation there were people who would delight in making a spectacle of them for many years to come over this. It could effectively ruin them, and his brother’s bid to become Governor? They could kiss that aspiration goodbye.
As a family they had stuck together through so much, through his father’s battle with cancer, his sister’s trial’s with her ex. But this this could be a real fiasco. So one day Karl decided to take matters into his own hands.
He knew he had a skill The Organization needed, so placing himself in one of the sex clubs one night he got the attention of one of The Organization’s managers. Cutting ties with his family and sneaking off the estate, under the lustful moon, he cut his hair, roughed up his clothes, changed his attitude and the chimerical “K” was born.
Getting their attention with that sweet submissive in the club had been easy - for him. Keeping it by demonstrating his skills on the computer and with accounting? Easier still. The guy they had before him had been a true moron and K’s spreadsheets had quickly revealed him for the armature he was.
When The Boss asked how he’d like to be paid since he’d refused to give any other name than “K” he simply provided them with an overseas account number where they deposited his money once every two weeks.
With his seeming dedication and “common interest” to their own it wasn't long before he was trusted enough with all of the organization's finances, that’s when he began ciphering little tidbits to the FBI and had the “pleasure” of meeting Special Agent Frank Edmond.
This “pleasure” included being picked up in a dark van in handcuffs and taken to FBI headquarters where he was given a rundown about how yes, the FBI did know what was going on in Riverland and the surrounding D.C. area and yes, they did have a task force in place and, yes, agent Edmond was supposed to be the one to go in and infiltrate the organization.
Now due to K and his nonsense how wise would it be to have two men on the inside? Agent Edmond also had K’s “proclivity” to dominance and would have been a wise choice as well, by the way.
Yes, but did Edmond have K’s skill on a computer, or K’s talent with accounting K was quick to ask. K pointed out that he was also trained in self defence, and combat proficient. It wasn't like he was helpless and he was already on the inside. After much back and forth, reluctantly it was decided that K would continue to stay in, but no one was happy about it.
The Organization was dangerous and K’s role precarious, their money was their life’s blood. If it should become endangered and that scarcity be traced back to K, his life, a high profile asset would be completely forfeit.
* * *
K’s mind returned to the present and his predicament. His hand floated to the nightstand and found his phone. He picked it up and dialed with the pad of his finger entering the cell number by heart knowing the reception he was bound to get. A dark voice answered without preamble "Who’s this?"
K immediately returned the favor. "It’s me."
There was a pause "Where have you been man? its been months."
“Sorry, I had to go off the grid.”
“Yeah, I’d say so, No one knew where the fuck you were, or if you were coming back.”
“Yeah sorry.”
Another pause. “You know, you're one cold son of a bitch sometimes K, what do you want?”
“A favor.”
“Shit it figures. What is it?”
“Well Sam, I have this girl right, she kind of wants to date.” Then it all clicked in his friend's mind. All that wealth & good looks and K finally found the one - who wanted to date, Sam had finally won the bet. It took his friend a long time to stop laughing - and finally start dispensing some dating advice.
Chapter 32
The next afternoon there was a knock on the door. To think before yesterday except for the people who helped with the nursery things at Mab’s Nursery were pretty uneventful. Now it was like, the place to be.
Paris of course was a regular. Francine opened the door and Paris strutted in with her usual entitled air. “So where is the local legend now?” Said Paris, her bright, thoughtful blue eyes looking around the room. Paris was a trim brunette with long straight hair down to her round backside, but coming from work it was done up in a bun at her neck. She had on one of her sculpted suits, this one an olive green in color, the soft material of her skirt form fitted to her curvy derriere kept high and round from a lifetime of jogging and self defense classes. Her sharp white blouse fit well over her curved full breast with the starched white frothy lace, flattering and sexy against her skin. Her walk was high and confident from kicking ass in the and at the dojo. Her silver jewelry winked in the dull light.
“I don’t know.” said Francine genuinely puzzled. He left this morning and hasn't gotten back yet. What took you so long getting here?”
“The law is a demanding mistress Francine! We got this new case. It’s awful guy’s gonna pay us a fortune! Guilty as hell.”
“You gonna get him off?”
Paris shot her a look over her shoulder and grunted on her way to the kitchen. “Of course.”
Francine smiled, she had to admit that along with this place her friendship with Paris had probably helped save her. She remembered one incident in particular...
Francine and Paris are riding in Paris’ Porsche Boxster and were pulled over after Paris had run a red light, typical Paris driving. Paris was mumbling angrily as the cop asked her for her licence and registration and went to check her tags.
Francine was in the passenger seat, trying to hold it together, but fear was like a pool and little by little she begins to sink into it’s murky debts. Finally Paris comes out of her irritated bubble enough to turn and see it, "Frannie!” She said, “What's wrong?" Francine is caught up in her flashbacks of being kidnapped. The cop leaned in and shined a flashlight inside the sporty car. Francine sunk into the past, was stuck in it, shaken by her past experience, she turned white as a sheet. The flashlight wasn't helping, it only spooked her more as she shrunk back against the car’s seat whimpering... “Ma’am, are you OK?”
“Yes, she’s fine.” says Paris before she turned on the cop, baring her teeth.
“Ma’am, has she been drinking?” the cop asked.
“Just a glass of wine.” Paris said, fiercely protective, getting her lawyer up. She rattled off some other stuff at the cop who finally gave up the fight, letting them go with a citation for running a red light and speeding. Francine reminded Paris later that hot girls like her usually got off with warnings if they weren't so mean. Right now Paris’ familiar voice barely penetrated the haze of fear. “Francine, what’s wrong? Are you OK?”
Her voice shook as she said “I’m fine, I’m fine, please, just let’s just go home.” Her voice was very small, like a little girl’s, coming from far away. Paris was shocked. She’d never seen such traumatizing fear. She got Francine home and settled in with a cup of Chamomil
e tea and wrapped her in the light blanket from the sofa and patiently sat with her.
“Thanks for just - well staying. I haven't had an episode since the cabin." She said softly.
"Since you were with K." Pairs said.
Francine nodded. "Yes," he'd comfort me, make me hot toddies, although I’m not sure he was always honest about what was in them.” She looked up and both of them smiled. Eventually, I asked him to teach me self defense. I hoped it would help."
"And he did, and it did?" Paris said.
“Yes, I felt stronger after that.”
She told Paris about Armin as well, and was pleased when she said “Well shit Francine, you're a little bad ass aren't you? Smacked him around pretty good! I'm proud of you girl!” Another short silence and then, “You know I'm not letting this go though right? We’re moving forward and pressing charges against that bastard Francine!”
Francine looked up, as if Paris has caught her at some shameful secret. “No Frannie, I don’t mean K, I can tell you’re hopelessly in love with him. Don't worry I won't tell. I keep secrets for a living, I can keep a few of yours, but the cop? That little shit is goin’ down! I know what K said, but the FBI, they can do a profile, get the IS involved. Maybe you can just identify him from a six pack, they might even already have a suspect! They don't even have to know it came from you! Let me make some inquiries first. poke around a little. I know some people over there.
I think K said what he said to protect you, but Frannie, you're too brave to want this to happen to someone else.” Francine looked down at her tea, thinking of K, how he used to call her his brave girl too.
“Please Francine, I know the idea of going down there and IDing this guy has all the enticement of going skinny dipping with pirañas, but I still want you to report this.” Paris took her hand in hers, it was cold but answered hers with trust, the fingers closing over in a firm grip. “I’ll be right there beside you the whole time, don’t worry, just leave everything to me!”
Natural Submission: Book 1 of the Submission Series Page 20
