by Jesse Jordan
“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.”
Larissa
Despite the sexy exterior, and an education provided by MI6 that isn't found in any other school on the planet, I actually do have a university degree from the London School of Economics. It's useful, and right now I'm putting it to good use as I take care of one of the primary functions of my club, the funneling and laundering of money. Sure, it's all a sham as MI6 and most likely Interpol know my exact financial records, but I still have to do the actual work.
“So let's see, thirty customers yesterday... that's sixty five,” I note, changing the incoming rate. Prostitution is legal in Greece, although the services my club advertises is not on the normal menu for most clubs. “Adjust the bar tab....”
There's a huge crash from out front and I look up in surprise, my eyes automatically going to the security m
onitors inside my office. I see a group of men rushing into the club, and one of my security is already down. Shit!
I hit my 'panic button' on my computer, a button which first backs up all my data on an offsite server while at the same time sends a message to each of the other capo in The Network that I may be under attack, and then destroys every hard drive in the club. I get the confirmation and head to the door, grabbing my pistol from my desk as I do.
The scene outside is deadly tense as I emerge, my pistol out. There's eight men in the group, seven of them with rifles and one with a shotgun. One of them has Jason, the club's male worker, in a headlock, a gun pressed against his head, while the rest of staff and the customers look slightly roughed up, Lihua's holding her face while naked on the floor. “Put the piece down.”
“Like hell,” I answer, cocking my gun. “I do, and you shoot him.”
“You don't, and we shoot him and everyone else,” the leader, the one with the shotgun, says. “You come with us, and we won't shoot anyone else. One pistol against seven AKs and a shotgun. You do the math.”
I look around, and I see Jason's terrified eyes. He's a true sweetheart, always with a laugh and something to cheer the girls when they have a bad customer or just a slow day. More than just a good worker, he's a good man, popular with the male and female dominants who come here.
I set my pistol down, and one of the gunmen comes towards me. When the guy holding Jason doesn't let go I move, reversing the asshole coming for me and disarming him quickly. “Let Jason go!”
“As you wish, our boss didn't want any more blood than necessary,” the leader says, jerking his head. Jason's let go, and I release the idiot I disarmed, holding my hands up as two more approach me, both of them smart enough to have their rifles ready.
We're most of the way to the door when I hear a scream in German and Claudia launches herself at the gunmen, screaming something at them. She's no match for the gunmen, and he hits her with the butt of his gun in the stomach before shooting her in the arm in cold blood. “No!”
Claudia screams, holding her bleeding shoulder, and the other gunmen grab me, dragging me out to a waiting van before they pile in after me, holding me down by pure force of weight while they tie me up. We pull away, and while I can't do much, I can only hope that nobody else was hurt.
I don't say anything to these assholes as we drive, and based off the time I know exactly where we're going. “Isn't the same bar a bit stupid?”
“The boss wants you there,” Shotgun says, looking back from his ironic choice of seat. “He has questions.”
When we get to the club they drag me inside, where another ten men are waiting on my arrival. I find my feet and walk as they lead me over to one of the empty seats, where Arthur Pinchot is waiting for me. “Ah, Larissa. So glad you accepted our invitation.”
“Your men killed at least one of mine, and shot another. I expect retribution,” I start, sitting down and refusing to look at any of the other men. They're dogs, waiting on their master's command. I deal with men, not dogs. Although considering Pinchot, I'd say I'm dealing with a monster that looks like a man. “What do you want?”
“Who was the man with you?” Pinchot asks. “I'm getting conflicting reports.”
“His name is Inigo Montoya. You killed his father,” I bullshit, but Pinchot's smarter than most criminals, he laughs at my taunt.
“A Spaniard? I've known too many Spaniards,” he quotes back. “Come now, Larissa. Who is he? On one hand, I'm hearing that he's a mercenary, sent here because of the Hendricks girl. The other rumor, more troubling in some ways, is that he's actually a Deep Cover CIA man sent here for the same reason.”
“Either way, he's here for whoever killed Chastity Hendricks. If you don't have anything to do with it, he's going to leave you alone,” I reply, shrugging. “You said last time you didn't, were you lying?”
Pinchot nods. “What do you think?”
“I think that with what I found out about you I wouldn't be shocked if you actually killed her with your own two hands,” I growl. “Which as you know is something that I wouldn't let in my territory. Greece is mine, Pinchot.”
Pinchot shrugs. “Perhaps on one level. But what confuses me is that Finch has an agreement with WW, why would they violate that to send someone after us?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, and Pinchot's out of his seat, backhanding me hard across the mouth. I roll with it, but I'm still knocked to the floor, and I can taste blood in my mouth.
“You know exactly what I'm talking about!” he screams, kicking me hard in the ass. I crawl, but there isn't a lot of room here, and he kicks me again, his shoe hard in my hips, stiff kicks that paralyze muscles. “Finch has the agreement with WW! Dover approved of it!”
“Dover?” I ask, trying to figure out in an instant how much of a beating I can take before I have to fight back for my life. He's pissed, he's talking, I need to hear this. “I don't know anyone named Dover.”
“Stupid bitch!” Pinchot yells, looking around. “Out, all of you! This is a private matter!”
The room starts to clear as I butt scoot, trying to keep my eyes on Pinchot as he watches me, his eyes gleaming and I notice that he's getting hard. Of course he is, administering pain turns him on. “Oh, for so long I heard about you. Finch has known about you ever since you were a little girl, didn't you know?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask, frozen at the mention of my childhood. “What do you know about my childhood?”
“Who do you think brokered you the first time? Although if WW had known about how beautiful you'd become, there's no way they'd have sold you to the markets. So who's the man with you?”
“He's just here for the Hendricks girl!” I scream, trying to get up and failing as Pinchot kicks me again, my legs knocked out from under me. Still I try and fight, but Pinchot's a trained fighter too, and he's got position as well as strength and size on me. I flail with my half decent leg but he blocks it and stomps, pinning my ankle to the floor and making me scream in pain.
“Oooh, and I thought you were into pain,” Pinchot says, tutting his tongue. “Don't tell me you don't like it.”
“There's pain and then there's just being a son of a bitch,” I growl, trying to protect my body as Pinchot starts beating me with his feet and hands. I've taken beatings before, but it's been a while, and as I absorb the blows I try to fight back uselessly. In the end I curl up, hoping that I get one more chance, even if it costs me my life, to take this bastard out.
“Who's the man who was with you?” Pinchot asks again, slightly out of breath from the beating he's been giving me. “Who is he? Why are you violating WW?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” I gasp, my ribs aching. He knows what he's doing, beating me slowly and taking his time without breaking anything yet. “You're dead, though.”
“Some day perhaps,” Pinchot says, before sighing. “You're useless. Well, not totally, I shall enjoy feeling your death spasms around my cock. I just wonder how I'm going to do it.”
I gather my strength for one more attack when a long rattling sound like an insane typewriter comes from outside the club. Pinchot turns and I kick him in the back of the leg just as the door explodes inward and Stephen jumps through, automatic rifle in hand. He sees Pinchot and shoots, the round taking him in the hip and knocking him to the ground.
“Where is... oh, there you are,” he says, seeing me. I'm so shocked, surprised at his tone, and happy to see him that I want to jump up and kiss him, but Stephen doesn't give me a chance, raising his rifle to shoot Pinchot again. “Time to die, Pinchot.”
“Wait!” I call, raising my hand. “He's got information on his bosses. We need to question him.”
Pinchot, holding his bleeding hip and groaning on the ground, stares at us with hate in his eyes as Stephen kicks, catching the Frenchman in the side of the head and knocking him out. “Fine,” Stephen says, kneeling down and helping me up. “But I want
to be there when he's interrogated. Can you walk?”
“I can move,” I grunt, letting Stephen help me up. “Give me the rifle, I'll cover you while you get this bastard out of here. I doubt the locals are going to ignore you using a grenade launcher on the door.”
“Yeah well, it was a good idea at the time,” Stephen grunts as he grabs Pinchot under the armpits and starts dragging him towards the door. “Glad I brought the Range Rover.”
“Who gave you access to my guns?” I ask as I see that Stephen's rifles is one of my personal stash, a British SA80 with Heckler and Koch grenade launcher. “This is my favorite rifle, too.”
“I bet. It's a good gun,” he says, grunting as we clear the door and I see the Range Rover, two bodies nearby. “Pinchot's men fought like punks.”
“Come on, I know just the place for him,” I say, opening the back door and helping Stephen load Pinchot in. We tie him quickly, and close the back door. As soon as it does I grab Stephen and kiss him hard for a moment before releasing him. “Thank you. I drive.”
“You're welcome... and I want the rifle back,” Stephen says, smirking. “Just in case I gotta shoot someone else before we get back.”
We get in the Range Rover and drive away quickly, Stephen pulling out his phone. “Yes... yes, Lihua, I have her. Yes, your Mistress is safe. You want to talk to her?” Stephen looks over, smirking. “She wants to talk. She made me promise to call her as soon as I had you before she unlocked the gun safe.”
I chuckle, and nod. “Put her on speaker. Lihua?”
“Mistress, you're really safe?” Lihua says excitedly. “I... when Master Stephen said he was going after you I was so worried.”
“Master?” I mouth to Stephen, and he nods. Time for that later. “I'm safe, Lihua. The club?”
“Claudia is being treated, your man Ophelos is here, taking care of the clean up. The police have left.”
I nod, Ophelos is a good man. “I'll speak with him later. Was anyone besides Claudia and Nikandros hurt?”
