Like Slipping Under Cover: Erotic Spy Fiction

by Bethany Zaiatz, ed.

  ON raised his right hand, where he held the business card, and crumpled the paper dramatically. "Now, Jack Charge, we are going to someplace a tad more private and you're going to tell me exactly what you're up to. And yes, Molly Munsch. we're taking you too."

  Munsch? Even Jack hadn't known her last name. He felt cold metal at his side and saw Mo Screws from the corner of his eye.

  ON waved to a small, but muscular short-haired black woman to come over to them. She moved from the corner in which she stood with precise, efficient steps, her eyes focused, like on a target. Her black pants and blazer, and white shirt matched her security persona.

  "Ronda," ON said, "you're going to watch over Ms. Munsch here."

  Ronda nodded slightly, as if too much movement would waste too much energy, and moved over by Molly.

  They followed ON to the cavernous bathroom where he kicked out two guys kissing by one of the sinks and a woman who was pegging her boyfriend in the empty hot tub. The man's face turned from giddy bliss to sullen melancholy as his girlfriend pulled the strap-on dildo out of his ass.

  After the two couples left, ON leaned on the sink the gay partners had been. He threw the crumpled business card into a nearby wastebasket. "So... where were we?"

  "I have nothing to say!" Jack's words echoed in the large bathroom.

  Much more calmly, Molly said, still with a thick Southern accent, "What my husband means to say is that we do not know where y'all are getting your allegations. We are a quite legitimate business."

  "Is that so, Morgan? Or is it Molly?" ON began pacing toward the center of the room. A shower stall with three shower heads, the hot tub, his and hers sinks, and space enough for a dance party surrounded him. "Tell me Molly, why did you become a spy with your unique abilities? Were you approached after you were the center of that massive orgy in the army barracks during the Third Iraqi War?"

  Jack's mouth gaped; that had been only rumor.

  "And you, stud-boy," he said to Jack. "It must be hard, being 'emotionally stilted.'" He used air-quotes, as if citing another source. "And 'capable of forming only physical relationships.' But I wouldn't blame yourself. You became sexually active at a young age. After discovering your father's porn collection."

  Jack's fists balled in anger. Molly touched him lightly. A calming gesture, perhaps.

  ON walked toward them. He brushed his fingers lightly across Molly's cheek. "You two really are incompetent, walking into my party and expecting me to just hand over all confidential files to the Union." He backed off a bit but was still looking at Molly. "I like you. I'm going to have my way with you before I kill you. You, on the other hand..." He looked at Jack. "I'm going to have you dumped into the unforgiving Colorado winter."

  Mo cleared her throat, like she wanted to say something.

  "Yes?"

  "Couldn't I just shoot him? It'd be a lot quicker."

  ON looked up, as though he were considering it. But it was a short consideration. He said, "No. Perhaps it is a weakness of mine, but I want the man to suffer. You'll fly him into the middle of the woods and drop him off and let the cold or wolves or whatever kill him."

  From his peripheral vision he saw Mo sigh. Perhaps she didn't like that plan. But Jack was grateful. He didn't want to die just yet.

  "Now take him to the helipad. Make sure your gun is sufficiently concealed."

  Mo nodded curtly.

  The helicopter was sleek and black and quiet--very modern--with two counter-rotating rotors instead of a tail rotor. Once they were on the pad, Mo handcuffed him into a tight grip.

  "I should kill you now and just dump your body in the forest." Not a hint of her earlier charm was present now.

  "But you respect your boss's wish too much."

  "Shut up!" She shoved him into the helicopter.

  Another man sat in the pilot's chair, wearing radio headphones. Mo got into the co-pilot's seat while Jack was hand-cuffed in the back.

  "Where to?" A feminine voice asked. At first Jack didn't know whose it belonged to. The pilot rattled off some coordinates, which Jack was sure was in the middle of nowhere. "OK. Taking you there now."

  So the voice belonged to the helicopter! Just like the plane flight in. A plan was forming in his head.

  He began thinking about the erotic "debriefing" session he and Molly had last night. Imagining her large breasts bouncing up and down as she rocked on his cock made him hard.

  "You smell that?" Mo asked from upfront.

  "Hmm...Smells like my girlfriend's jasmine scented shampoo."

  "Odd." Mo's hand was getting close to her crotch. Jack wondered if she was even conscious of the lazy brushes her hand was traversing over that area. "You know..."

  "Huh?" The pilot seemed lost in thought.

  "There's something about closed spaces...I've fucked in cars... On boats... In the elevator..."

  "What the heck are you talking about?"

  Jack pictured Molly arching her back as she came last night. He felt wetness in his tight pants as pre-come leaked from his cock-head. He could smell jasmine in his sweat.

  Mo grabbed the pilot's pants.

  "What the fu...heck?" He pushed her hand away.

  "Oh come on, you can say it. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! You know you want it. You're harder than granite."

  "You know...I thought working for the Minister of War, I thought I'd be doing the Lord's work. But you people, you're so sinful."

  Mo sat back in her chair, arms crossed. Damn! This wasn't supposed to happen. Jack continued imagining Molly coming last night, but even with that, he was loosing his erection. Being handcuffed in the back of a helicopter just wasn't an erotic setting.

  "You know, Bible Boy," Mo was saying, "Jesus probably fucked that whore Mary Magdalene sore."

  The pilot shook his head. "What is wrong with you? What're we going to do about him?" He nodded his head back to Jack.

  "Training exercise," Mo said.

  "Yeah, that's what Boss said. But I don't get it. Why handcuff him?"

  "Just fly the damn chopper."

  The pilot didn't even have hands on the stick, relying on auto-pilot.

  Jack sighed. He wasn't going to get any help when Jesus Freak can pray away his libido. But he had to try. Jack fantasized about several scenes, but nothing was really gaining traction. Then he thought about ON Top's reported unique ability and what would happen if he used it on Jack. Finally there was movement in his trousers. He felt pheromone-laden sweat over his body.

  "Boss wants him dead, doesn't he?" the pilot asked.

  "Just do your job, fly-boy."

  The pilot stared gape-mouthed at Mo, who now had fingers under her waistband. "Fudggge-fuck it. I'll fuck you if you tell me."

  By the console's glow Jack saw Mo grin. "I though you'd never ask."

  They attacked each other. The pilot's headset came off. Then his shirt. Mo lifted off her one-piece black dress. Jack wasn't surprised at all that she wore no underwear.

  Jack was getting into the unfolding porn scene, but he had to focus. His life was at stake. Into each other, they didn't notice Jack scooting around to sit on his butt. Or him slouching down and raising his legs up toward his captors. He had one shot to do this right. He kicked both in the head. They went down instantly.

  "Really?" he said to himself. "That really worked?" But he quickly got over his incredulity as he maneuvered up front and pulled Mo out of the co-pilot's chair. She groaned but didn't otherwise wake. "Computer...take me home." He didn't know what else to say.

  "Unrecognized voice," she/it replied.

  "Shit!" The helicopter was going to go to the coordinates. Then what? Possibly land? Run out of gas? "Computer... emergency... please take me home."

  "Unrecognized voice," the woman's voice said in the same monotone.

  The pilot groaned. Then righted himself in his seat. He looked to Jack, then spotted Mo in the back. Jack stiffened, preparing himself for a fight.

  "Computer," said the pilot, "take us back to th
e helipad."

  Jack gaped at the other man.

  "I'm a pilot, not a murderer. Whatever you are, I hope you're on the Lord's side."

  "Sure." Jack couldn't remember the last time he went to church. Maybe as a child. Before his mother's religion became Lapsed Catholicism.

  Jack felt the helicopter change course and the pilot cut the links to the handcuffs with bolt cutters he had in the copter's toolbox.

  "This's the best I can do."

  "It'll work," Jack said, looking at the cuffs still around his wrists. "You have a name?"

  "Joshua."

  "Nice to meet you, Joshua. I'm Jack."

  There was silence for a few minutes, then Joshua asked, "That...wanting to have sex, that was you, wasn't it?"

  Jack nodded.

  "How'd you do it?"

  "Genetic manipulation."

  "Genetic manipulation," Joshua repeated, as if tasting a new flavor. "Can I ask you a question?"

  "Shoot."

  "Lately... I've been having feelings. Feelings my girlfriend doesn't understand. Toward...toward other men. Do you think... genetic manipulation can help?"

  Jack shook his head, then stopped. He was going to have to frame his answer in terms this guy would understand. "Listen...if God is perfect, why would he create an imperfection like homosexuality?"

  Joshua's eyes grew as if he saw a whole other doorway he hadn't seen before. He nodded. Emphatically. "You know, by gosh... by God you're right!" He moved to hug Jack, but air turbulence from the copter landing rocked the cabin.

  Jack patted the man on the back instead. "Listen, your new government is a bit odd. But, as I'm sure you've noticed, it does have its seediness too. Embrace the seediness. I don't think there's anything wrong with that either."

  Joshua opened the cabin and Jack hopped out. Joshua couldn't stop thanking the other man.

  Jack pulled himself away. "I gotta go. You should wake her," pointing to the still unconscious Mo. "Check into a hospital. I might've given you a concussion. Sorry." Before Joshua could thank him again, Jack was off to the hotel room.

  The door was ajar. Jack opened it wider to see that the party had been completely cleared, except for ON and Molly on the circular bed, and Ronda standing guard. ON had his face buried in Molly's crotch. Jack's cock stiffened. It was like he'd fast-forwarded the boring set-up and had jumped right into the good part of a porn scene.

  Ronda was the first to notice him. She walked up, her small pistol pointed at him.

  "Careful. I'm more dangerous than you think." Jack's hands had been behind his back. Now he showed them to her, displaying the broken handcuffs.

  She squirmed. Jack suspected that she'd been touching herself as she watched her employer going down on Agent DD7. He looked at her athletic but still sexy body, imagining her nude. "I practice Buddhist meditation," she said. "I can resist the temptations of the flesh."

  Jack grinned and stepped closer. "It has nothing to do with temptation and everything to do with evolution." He grabbed her pants and began massaging. She grimaced, but didn't back away. Moaned, in fact. "I'm told that sometime in the distant past our ancestors developed the secret menstrual cycle, so that no one could tell when anyone was fertile. They could fuck whenever the mood pleased them. But if everyone can be horny at any time, spraying musk to attract mates, then nobody would get anything done. So those genes went dormant."

  She shook her head like she was telling him that she didn't speak his language. Then, like she came out of her reverie, she said, "You're a pig!" and spat.

  Jack wiped the spit off his face and shoved her away. She stayed back. He didn't want to deal with her anyway. He walked to the circular bed. ON was kneeling on the floor while Molly lay on the edge. A box of condoms lay by the Minister's feet. Jack's penis seemed ready to break the fabric of his pants to get out. "Mind if I join?"

  Molly moaned, rubbed her tits. She managed to say, "I see you made it out alive."

  "Yeah. I created a minor sexual distraction."

  "Mine doesn't seem to be that minor."

  ON came up from his muff diving and began clawing at Jack's pants.

  "Jesus!" Jack exclaimed.

  "I think his lizard-brain has taken over," Molly said, lazily fingering her bald pussy now that ON's tongue was no longer there. "He just grunts and groans now."

  "Or maybe he's just being the typical male."

  Molly smiled.

  Jack unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. He noticed how thick and hard ON's cock was. Jack's asshole quivered in anticipation. "Did you get his cock?" Jack asked Molly.

  She shook her head as she continued playing with herself. "I sucked him off a bit, then he stripped me down and had been dining on my cunt ever since."

  Jack gasped in pleasure as ON wrapped his mouth around his cock. The New Confederate managed to take in all twelve inches and then lick Jack's balls. Jack too was rendered speechless. He barely noticed that Ronda had walked to the bed and that she and Molly were now kissing.

  ON finally came up for air and started licking Jack's shaft. Then he went back to more deep-throating. This cycle was repeated a few more times and Jack felt the heat of orgasm quickly building. His porn star training kicked in. He used another technique to delay the inevitable. He managed to say, "Please. I. Want. Your. Cock."

  ON stood and the two flipped positions. Jack lay on the bed, his eager ass craving cock. By this time Ronda and Molly where in the center, with Ronda nude from the waist-down and Molly's face buried in Ronda's dark bush.

  ON produced a condom and quickly put it on. The War Minister's shaft went in slow and steady. Jack grunted as his sphincter expanded to accommodate the large dick. But he also felt the sublime heat of p-spot stimulation. "Oh God!" he groaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head. From the mirror on the wall, he managed to see that the girls, now both naked, were 69'ing, their moans adding to the erotic chorus. Jasmine scented pheromones filled the air.

  Then Jack felt ON's ability kick in, and his pleasure amped up. The vibration was slight at first, then gradually increased. "Oh Jesus-fucking God!" The heat of pleasure spread from his asshole to his penis.

  The women came first, Molly screaming hers and the other woman a sort-of whimper. Then ON grunted and shuddered. Normally Jack or his partner would need to stroke him off. But this time was different. Jack felt climax quickly building. That produced the most intense vibration. And that set Jack off. For the first time ever, he came anally.

  ON dismounted and collapsed on the bed. Both scooted toward the center, where the women were. Looking in the mirror, the ladies were cuddling each other. Molly sat up, looking at ON. "Think you can come again, Minister?"

  "Um..."

  Molly didn't wait for him to answer. She began giving him a hand job, and he began again his animalistic grunting.

  Then Jack noticed Ronda was rubbing her pussy and small tits. "Is this how it's always like with you?" she asked.

  "Um, yes."

  "Excellent. Fuck me, Jack."

  "Sure thing, Ronda"

  Molly tossed Ronda a condom as she put one on ON's cock.

  Jack went onto his knees and inserted his cock between Ronda's legs. It went into her small pussy easily, it already well lubricated with her juices. She cooed lightly. "So much for Buddhist meditation," he said.

  "Tantric sex," she retorted back.

  This time, the rise toward climax was slower; Jack enjoyed the presence of being in so much pleasure.

  Meanwhile, Molly was bouncing up-and-down on ON's dick, screaming, "God-damn, this vibration is so hot! Better than a fuckin' dildo!"

  Ronda shuddered and shook, making that soft erotic whimper. That caused Jack to grunt out his climax. Molly fired next, screaming out obscenities. Lastly, ON groaned in orgasm. The four crawled into the center of the bed, cuddling.

  "Jack," ON said loud enough for all four to hear. Jack was a bit startled as this was the first time ON had spoken since Jack came back into the hotel suite. "
I'll give you the launch codes and any other confidential materials on one condition: you're my fuck-toy. Agreed?"

  Jack nodded, then said "Sure," again loud enough for all to hear.

  "Um...Boss?"

  "Yes, Ronda."

  "I want a fuck-toy too."

  "OK. You get Molly. Agreed?"

  "Mmm, yes," Molly said contentedly.

  "And, of course, swapping is allowed."

  They each mumbled their ascent.

  "OK then. This stays between us four, and whatever Union brass you need to tell. Understood?"

  They all agreed.

  Jack snuggled in the bed, feeling ON's now limp cock against his butt. He could get used to this.

  Living on Schizo Time

  Eric Del Carlo

  I had killed Hitler for--what?--the twentieth time, and I was getting pretty sick of it. Well, killed was overstating it. More like I had prevented the fucker. We agents weren't in the business of murder. During the course of all those retro-jump missions, however, I had gotten to know that human monster, or at least learned his lineage like the back of my hand, going back generations and exploring the roots of his diseased family tree. But every time I'd averted a crucial ancestral coupling that would eventually lead to the little bastard's birth, word came down from Time Zenith that something had gone awry and to go try it again.

  It was enough to wear a chrono-agent to a frazzle.

  Luckily, I had a twenty-four hour stopover at the Hub. You might think a chrono-agent doesn't think in terms of "hours," not when she goes speeding across the eras as easily as you cross a room; and you'd be right. But still. The Hub was a fixed locality, a strictly defined event in the timeflow. It had been constructed that way, very purposefully. Minutes ticked by one after the other at the Hub, in orderly sequence. It was a haven, a place of security that wasn't part of the Earth. Whatever mucking about we did in the timeflow, nothing could affect things here.

  It was the only stability I'd ever known. I had been recruited as a young orphan, right out of the girls' dormitory in the stasis-locked Earth city where I was born. Even that place had never felt safe. I remembered the endless emergency drills, the constant threat of a breach in the city's chrono-shield which would have let the wild, contradictory timeflow roll right over us. Outside that barrier, the ever-changing histories contended, fusing together grotesquely, then tearing violently apart.