Smoke

by C. P. Mandara

  James’s expression was dark, but I waved it away with my fingers. I didn’t need to know why I shouldn’t be doing this. There were too many reasons why I had to do this.

  “Just what exactly can they do to me in that room?” I had to ask the question, though I already knew the answer.

  “Pretty much anything they like, and that’s what should concern you, Lois. This isn’t legal – it’s under the radar. This should be ringing a dozen alarm bells in your head.”

  “So they’ll get touchy-feely, dish out a bit of pain, and watch me suffer. That about the gist of it?”

  James took a long slug of his coffee and rolled his eyes heavenward. I could see that he was holding back, but it appeared that was all I was going to get, for his next word was, “Yes.”

  “What then? What happens after a submissive has been ‘bought?’”

  “You get shipped off to a fairy princess castle, have loads of kinky sex, and live happily ever after.” James motioned for our waitress to bring the bill over just then, which was the only thing that stopped him from getting my foot in his shin.

  "You're a glass-half-full kinda guy, then?" I said.

  “No, I’m a sarcastic fucking bastard who’s told you time and time again not to do this. You’re almost certifiably insane. What happens now is on you. Good luck, but just remember I told you so.”

  As far as pep talks went, that wasn’t ideal, but it was as much as I was going to get, by the looks of it.

  Chapter Four

  When the day of the auction dawned, I woke up filled with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I was worried that I might not attract Dumortier's attention and equally concerned that if I did, I might not be able to cope with what he would dish out. Ahh – but that’s the reason I was going in there. To save all those poor women he held from a fate worse than death. That was a lie. I was going in there for revenge – pure and simple. It certainly helped that Dumortier was an unpleasant blot upon the landscape, and I was pretty sure no one would miss him if he suddenly disappeared, but my reasons for killing him were my own. The excitement that was bubbling through me was the realisation that I might be the one to put an end to the bastard’s life. Yes, death can be exciting, believe it or not. Half of the operatives Sharkey employed were regular adrenaline junkies, and I was no exception. Living life on the edge had become second nature to me, and as much as I wanted to give this job up, there was a part of me that would always miss the drama that accompanied it. You have to be a special kind of cold-blooded monster to do the work I do, and after you’ve done it for too long, you get a taste for it. It’s not like drugs – you don’t become addicted to it exactly, but the thrill of the chase is a potent aphrodisiac, believe me.

  Stretching out my arms wide, I yawned, and then blinked, adjusting to the bright daylight outside. Today was the day I would begin to take down Dumortier’s empire. My blood pressure was going to take a hammering, but it was a small price to pay. That bastard was now about to have a ticking time bomb around his neck, and that bomb was me. I was going to explode spectacularly when he least expected it, and I might even have fun in the process.

  “Lois. Lois! Time to wake up, get washed, and get naked. It’s your big day.” James rapped on my door and, just in case I was deaf, popped his head into the room. If I’d had something handy, I would have thrown it at him, but the only object nearby was a bedside lamp, and it was currently plugged into the wall.

  “Ahh, so you are awake. Good stuff. You need to get yourself cleaned up, and then your primping and preening session can begin.” James rubbed his hands together and winked at me. I scowled.

  “Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like this very much?” James was looking far too cheerful, so I knew there was something afoot.

  “Rubbish. All of you girls love a good spa day. A little massage, some body oil, a bit of plucking and the odd sprinkle of bikini wax. You’ll have a ball.”

  I winced. Wax and I were not good friends. “This wouldn’t be optional, would it?” If it was, I definitely wasn’t doing it.

  "Uh-uh. All the girls inside that auction room conform to certain standards, and you want to be on a level playing field with them, don't you, Lois?"

  "Sometimes you're insufferable. You know that right?" I considered throwing the lamp again and wondered if I could just tug the plug out in one fell swoop.

  “Only sometimes? I’ll have to work on that. See you in a couple of hours, slave.” The door clicked quietly shut behind him, and my opportunity for throwing things was lost. I’d just have to get my own back later. Wait… did he just say a couple of hours? What the hell were they going to do to me?

  My hand snaked around James's neck with the speed of a bullwhip, and if you thought one of those bad boys was nasty, you'd never seen me pissed. Yanking the curve of my arm against his windpipe, to cut off his air supply, I was unamused to find his right hand was already there to protect himself.

  "You absolute bastard," I screeched in his ear. "Do you have any idea what those women have just done to me?" There was a long pause, and for a moment I wondered if I had managed to choke him after all, but then I felt him shaking against me. The man was laughing, and not just any old laughter, he was in fits of hysterics. Fury tore through me like a lightning bolt, and there was plenty of thunder to accompany it. I was one very pissed off streak of charged electricity, and I was looking to do as much damage as was humanly possible. Grabbing for the hand that was protecting his air supply, I tried to tear it away, but James was ready for me. In less than a heartbeat, I found myself on the floor, buck naked, and firmly underneath my nemesis. This did not improve my mood any.

  “Calm down, Lois. You asked for this assignment – and all that it entails. If you remember correctly, I’ve done my best to talk you out of it all week – so this is not my fault. All the girls are prepared for the auction in this manner. It’s part of the few written rules that ‘The Establishment’ holds. Now focus and get control of your breathing. If you lose it like this around Alain, you are dead.”

  My grey eyes, now utterly black, unleashed their displeasure of my recent treatment. “Were you aware they were going to trim and shave my pubic hair into a fucking love heart?”

  "That's just because you're a newbie. It lets the others know, and it's for your benefit rather than theirs. If you've been before, you get to go with nothing, which is what you'll be wearing if Alain does get his hands on you."

  His quick response didn't make me feel in the least bit better, and I continued on with my catalogue of woes. "If that wasn't bad enough, they waxed my arms, legs, and eyebrows, and painted all my nails whore red. Then they exfoliated every inch of skin they could get their hands on, covered me in oil, and chopped my hair off."

  “Lois, you’re exaggerating - they didn’t chop your hair off, they gave you a trim. It looks lovely, by the way.”

  “Huh, since when do you notice the way I look?” My eyes bored directly into his as I waited for an answer.

  “I notice. Just because I don’t act on the attraction, doesn’t mean that I haven’t spotted you’re a very beautiful woman, Lois. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be doing this assignment, so it’s not news to you.”

  For a minute, my heart decided to stop beating. I had received not one, but two compliments from James in less than five seconds, and it floored me so much my blood began to sing. It was funny because since Kiel's death I'd thought I was impervious to all men in general, but perhaps that was not the case. Anyway, now was not the time to dwell on it. There was no room in my life for a relationship and the chances that I would see James again after today were remote at best. That wasn't because I thought I would fail my mission. It was a more realistic expectation that because of the line of work we were both in, our paths weren't likely to cross again any time soon. It was probably a good thing. I couldn't let myself fall for another man after Kiel. I wouldn't be able to deal with the fall out again if it all went wrong. I'd probably keep trying
to get myself killed until I found a decent reason to live. Never share that with your therapist, Lois.

  "Get off me, you big lout." I pushed James as far away from me as I could manage, which wasn't very far.

  “Ahh, so the girl can’t take compliments. Interesting. Do you promise not to strangle me, if I do?”

  "You're a big boy, you can take care of yourself." I smirked, and it had the desired effect. He rolled off me, allowing my lungs to inflate once more.

  "When do I leave?" Staring at the ceiling, I slowly regulated my breathing and found myself a little concerned that panic and dread hadn't taken over my body. I still felt numb. If I didn't snap out of my self-induced coma, there was a risk I was going nowhere tonight – and that wasn't an option. The last week I'd spent being at James's beck and call had given me something to focus on, but it hadn't cured my addiction. I needed a high of adrenaline, and I needed it soon.

  "Why so anxious to leave? Does it look like a good day to die or something?" Rolling on to his side, James stared at me and waited patiently for an answer. Nothing escaped his attention. The smallest upward or downward turn of my lips, my blink response, the pulse at my throat, and even the colour of my skin was catalogued. I'd yet to beat him in a fight, and he was sneaky as hell. I'd never want to come up against him as an operative. I was good, but I could be better. James was almost so fucking perfect he was a machine. It was unsettling.

  “You’re beginning to bore me. I need bigger fish to fry.” It was only half a lie.

  He snorted. “Be careful what you wish for, Lois.” His look then turned serious. “You leave at six pm this evening, which gives us plenty of time for a quick refresher on everything you’ve learnt, and then I intend to feed you an early dinner.”

  “God no, James. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat this afternoon. My insides will turn to liquid.” I ran my hand over my stomach protectively, but it gurgled as if in protest. He laughed.

  “Relax. It will be something light, but trust me when I say that tonight is going to be a very long evening and you’ll need plenty of calories to get through it.”

  Giving in gracefully, I nodded. He was unlikely to take no for an answer, anyway. “Do I have to remain naked for the rest of the day, or can I put some clothes on now the beastly beauticians have left?” Looking down at my nails in disgust, I sighed.

  "For God's sake, put some clothes on. I only have so much willpower, and believe me when I say you test it to the max, Ms. Reeves."

  My inner sex kitten preened and licked her paw seductively. "That's almost a good enough reason to walk around naked all day, Mr. Leveritt."

  “Lois, you’re getting the sharp end of my whip just before you leave this evening. If you’d prefer two sessions rather than one, you can drape your ass over the sofa right now and start praying.”

  All paw licking and preening stopped instantly. “You’re no fun, you know that?” I gave him a petulant look.

  “Au contraire, Lois. I’m lots of fun – but you’d never be able to handle me.” He pointed to his chest and grinned evilly. Then, standing up slowly, he took a sharp swipe at my ass, and the resulting sting burned through my body. Striding from the room, he gave me no chance for a reply, which was probably just as well.

  I was pretty sure I could handle that much fun, though – given half a chance.

  Wandering around the house aimlessly, wishing the minutes would melt quickly into hours; eventually I decided I might as well go for a run. According to James, the only exercise I could count on getting in CB was of the sexual variety, so I figured I might as well blast out my heart and lungs one last time, before kissing my trainers goodbye. Thankfully, James had relented on the ‘no-clothes' rule a couple of days ago and had allowed me to courier some of my stuff to the base. I guess he figured that if I was going to be dead soon, there was little harm in humouring me.

  Anyway, a run would do me good. Tonight was going to be extremely stressful in anyone’s book, and the exercise would relax me a little, even if it didn’t improve my mood. The sexual frustration the past week had left me with was brutal, but I was told that it was small fry compared to what I’d have to deal with under Dumortier. Getting used to being permanently desperate for sex was going to take some adjustment, but I had no doubt I was up to the task. I was a big girl, after all.

  As soon as my trainers, shorts and running vest were in place, I headed for the door. It felt decidedly strange to be wearing clothes after I'd been naked most of the last week, but in a good way. There was no point getting used to that warm fuzzy feeling, though, because I was due to be stripped again in a few hours time and I wouldn't be seeing clothes again until I'd either killed Dumortier or had been buried in concrete somewhere. Apparently, that was his favourite way of dealing with people who annoyed him. Nice guy, huh?

  Breaking into a sprint as soon as my feet touched the grass, I began to explore the grounds outside. They were vast. One loop of the estate was approximately five miles and proved a fairly challenging run with woodland, fields, and marshland to explore. It felt glorious to be out in the open air with the sun on my back, and I revelled in the moment. Pushing my body to the limit was a favourite pastime of mine, and right now, I felt like I had something to prove. Maybe I needed to feel alive, perhaps I needed a runner's high, but something was driving me past my normal boundaries.

  I still couldn't quite believe that today was the day I got to set eyes on Dumortier – well, hopefully. There was no question that I would pull out all the stops to get his attention, and I would just have to hope that would be enough. Never much for second chances, especially in my line of work, I intended to nail my spot in CB's harem by any means necessary. If I was signing up as a sex slave, I was well aware that I would need to get my hands dirty and I was prepared for that.

  James had informed me that CB had a hierarchy system amongst the girls who worked there. You went in at the bottom, and if you were lucky, you worked your way to the top. The further up the scale I progressed, the closer I would get to Dumortier – but there was no guarantee that I would attract his attention. Some girls never got near him and those that did, often wished they hadn't. I had so many things to look forward to.

  Having a moment of self-doubt, I wondered, not for the first time, if I would be up to the task. Pain I could cope with, but mind games and drugs were not my fields of expertise. While James had tried his best to arm me with techniques that would help me get through the various trials Carte Blanche would present me with, there was no easy way of dealing with being drugged. I'd just have to cross my fingers if it came to that and hope I'd manage to get through it somehow. Stop worrying about something that might never happen.

  Re-focusing my thoughts on the day ahead, I decided to try and stay in the present for the time being. So what did I need to remember? No plastic, no blondes, no tattoos – check. Then I had to make sure I didn’t talk too much, looked calculating, appeared feisty, and didn’t find him in the least bit attractive. That should be easy enough. Well, bar the ‘Don’t talk too much part,’ anyway. I could do this. Besides, he’d never expect a girl. I’d heard the man was a sexist bastard who thought that women weren’t much use for anything bar decoration and sex. Dumortier was about to get a shock when he came up against me.

  Looking at my watch, I realised I’d been out just over an hour and a half, and had run nearly ten miles. It wasn't a bad time, considering. Heading back to the house, I'd have just enough time to shower again before the pre-auction theatrics started. By that, I mean the spanking that James was going to deliver before the van came to cart me away. Apparently, it was good form to go in there with a bright pink ass. Scarily enough, I was actually looking forward to it. James had been a fantastic teacher in all things BDSM, and the more I delved into the subject, the more I loved it. For me, it was sex on steroids. I seemed to feel everything much more acutely when a little pain was involved, and whatever the man did to me, he always left me begging for more. Would my stay at Carte
Blanche be the same? Somehow I doubted it. Still, it would present its own unique challenges, and I would be more than up to the task. This was what I had been training for most of my adult life, and it was now time to put myself to the test. You can do this. No, scratch that. You will do this.

  After my shower was finished, I said goodbye to my clothes for the foreseeable future. The week I'd just spent naked had made me comfortable in my own skin, and though I still felt somewhat vulnerable, James had pointed out that I could use my body to my own advantage. It could almost be viewed as a weapon itself. He seemed to think men would take one look at me and melt, but I wasn't so sure. If this failed, he advised me to resort to talking dirty. That had taken a bit of practice before I was comfortable with it, but now I could just about hold my own. James had turned me into a foul-mouthed sex kitten with attitude inside of a week. I had a lot to thank the man for, I thought dryly.

  Crawling on my hands and knees to the lounge, for the last time under this roof, I realised I didn't want to leave. Although James had been a brutal taskmaster, he's also been great fun to work with and hugely entertaining, in a ruthlessly sarcastic kind of way. He'd challenged me in every aspect of my training, and I felt better for it. The truth of the matter was that I wanted to see him again. If I asked him for his number before I left, would he give it to me? Maybe it was worth a shot. If you don't ask, you don't get – right?

  Pausing at the entrance to the front room, I took a deep breath and tried not to dwell on the fact that this would be the last time I would see James for a while, and that was thinking positively. Believe in yourself. Okay. With that thought uppermost in mind, I pushed the door open for my last spanking session with Master James Leveritt. Was it wrong that I was insanely excited at the thought?