by Arwen Jayne
“It’s kind of warm and soft, a bit like fur. Maybe velvet?”
“And how does it make you feel?”
“Um it’s comforting, reassuring...This is not so bad is it?
“Not bad at all. Would you like to try some other textures?”
“Yes please, this is actually fun”.
“There’s just one thing though Tyra, when you are tied to the frame there is no equality, it’s please ‘Sir’. Is that clear?”
“Ah, yes, Sir”. She giggled.
He replaced the velvet glove with a silk one, he reached around her to rub it over her nipples.
“Uh! It’s cold! Feels like silk”.
“Very good, you’re good at this aren’t you slave?”
“Slave? I don’t think so...Sir!
Simon chuckled. “Can’t blame me for trying”. He changed the silk for leather, this time on both hands. He caressed her from toe to top. She shuddered beneath his hands and moaned. Then he raised one of the gloves to her nose. “This?”
“Smells like leather”.
“You like the feel of it on your skin?”
She shuddered again. “Yes. More of that please. Um, please Sir”.
He grabbed her by the back of her head and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Not so hard as to frighten her but enough to show who was in control. His breathing ragged he released her from the kiss and moved his hands down to her crotch, stroking gently over the area. “Tell me what you want Tyra!”
“I want your fingers, I want to feel your fingers inside me...Sir.”
“You want my leathered fingers inside you, you want me to make you come?”
“Yes, please Sir”
“Only if you promise not to come until I say.”
“Um...okay.” That sounded weird but she guessed it was all part of the game they were playing. “Sorry, that’s a yes, Sir”.
“You play the game well Tyra”. He slid two gloved fingers into her dripping wet vagina, placed his thumb over her clitoris and rubbed. He used his other hand to massage her ass.
Tyra gasped. Her mind was liquefying. On one level she was feeling totally slutty and embarrassed by it but the pleasure was so intense it overrode all her reservations. She let herself go into the sensations that were rising within her. Warmth and pressure built where Simon’s hands worked her. All her energy and focus was being pulled into her clitoris where he rubbed.
“Not yet Tyra, I’ll say when.”
She cried in anguish and frustration. She wanted to come, she wanted him in her fucking her hard but she held on. A wave was building in her. Maybe she had become an ocean. If she could just surf that wave. It grew in height until she was nothing but the wave...looking for a shore.
“Now Tyra, come now!”
The tsunami in her gave way, washing all before it. She slumped in her bonds.
Simon undid her cuffs and took her in his arms, cradling her.
14
George and Simon were in the kitchen preparing breakfast when they heard a sudden scream from Simon’s bedroom. They briefly looked at each other questioningly, nothing could get into this house could it? George drew his Sig Sauer combat pistol from its holster under his jacket and went racing after Simon to investigate.
The sight that greeted them in the bedroom was that of a rather dishevelled Tyra, wrapped in a towel, looking fearfully at a hairbrush on the floor.
George holstered his gun and bent to pick up the brush, giving it a careful inspection, a bemused expression on his face. “It’s not exactly a deadly weapon. What did it actually do?”
“It took out my hair, that’s what. All my hair’s falling out.”
Simon wrapped her in his arms and embraced her then looked at her hair. “I don’t think it’s all your hair Tyra, just the grey ones”. He tenderly lifted her hair to inspect underneath. “I think your new hair’s going to be metallic bronze in colour.” He grimaced as he stood back a little to face her. “I’m sorry Tyra, I should have realised this might happen and warned you. If you have any teeth with fillings they might fall out too...but you will regrow new ones,” he added, attempting to reassure her. “Your eyes will change too, the irises will lose all their spots and markings but it will be some time before we know what their final colour will be.”
Tyra shook her head at the bizarreness of it all and tried to find some humour in the situation. “So teething at 50, you’d better hope I don’t get grumpy like babies do with it.”
Tyra’s humour did nothing to lessen Simon’s guilt. “Hopefully it won’t cause you any pain but we might need to blend your food for several weeks if you end up losing your molars. Other changes in your organs will probably be slower but I think we’d better brief Yan and let him monitor you.”
Tyra sighed. Not reassuring! “So how come Oscar had no reaction to your essence?”
“Oscar’s too young to have acquired any age related wear and tear to his body. My essence only had to stop him from dying from the cold but he’ll benefit from it in many ways as he grows. Although I don’t know how we’ll explain to Sally that he doesn’t need vaccinations, we might just let her give them to him anyway.”
George coughed meaningfully to interrupt them. “If Tyra’s going to be alright we should have breakfast. That bloke from the security training company should be turning up shortly”.
Tyra looked startled. “Already? I haven’t had a chance to memorise that damn rule book yet”.
“Don’t sweat it! Major John Samuels, who’s recently retired from the SAS, is going to take us through some of the practical stuff. Some of the close quarter disarmament techniques, how to restrain using handcuffs and the up-to-date firearm procedures that the new regulations now require. George has to do additional training to renew his current license anyway and I thought it wouldn’t hurt if I made myself a little bit more legal so the Major’s going to train the three of us while he’s here for the next few days.”
George laughed. “You legal!”
Simon shrugged his shoulders. “The world’s getting more and more bureaucratic and legalistic. It’s getting harder and harder to stay under everyone’s radar. Especially with the enemy having strategically infiltrated themselves all over the place.” Simon reached down to a bag he had stashed under the bed and pulled out some tops. “Here, put these on while Samuels is here. It’s our new cover. I’m still wading through all the paperwork to finalise it.”
Tyra looked at the branding and her face warmed with pleasure. “J.G. Security Inc. As in Jack Goodwin?”
Simon was relieved at her happiness, he hadn’t been sure what she’d think of the idea. “I thought it might be a nice way to remember Jack. Officially he’ll be the founder of our small company. I’m making your mum the official CEO but the funding for the business will come from me.”
Tyra was overjoyed but puzzled “But what about your other job?”
“You’ve accepted me despite it and change is the nature of the universe. Mind you I’m not saying I’m going to be pure as the driven snow or anything like that. I still need to follow my path. There will be times that I will need to be an initiatrix for others”
“However you are is fine by me. Don’t go and change yourself on my account.”
“And that is exactly why I’m going to fully mate you Tyra Goodwin.”
George quietly left the room and left them to it. Maybe one day he’d find someone who would accept him like that too.
15
Major Samuels hadn’t been as intimidating as Tyra feared he might have been. A veteran of the war in Afghanistan he had a few scars on his face from the time he’d narrowly escaped being blown up and had survived with only the shrapnel wounds to show for it. Some of his army mates hadn’t been so lucky. His stories were riveting but some of it he said he had to edit as some of the more black ops would remain hush for at least thirty years, maybe more. The main point was he had survived.
He taught Tyra, George and Simon everything from how to recog
nise suspect terrorist activity, how to keep their weapons out of enemy hands during hand to hand and how to knee the baddies in the balls. The more tedious training was on how to write up events when they had to use restraints or firearms to control a situation, how to be respectful to clients including the approved way to walk with them to cars and restaurant tables, how to assess a location for possible threats, objects that could be potential weapons as well as escape routes and finally how to talk down a violent or suicidal suspect.
At the end of the Major’s stay, they’d all travelled to an approved shooting range where they could legally practise with their weapons. After that it was up to them to complete their memorisation of the regulations. The Major said he’d return when they were ready to sit the test for that, Simon would only need to give him a few days’ notice and he’d be happy to fly back down.
On top of all this Simon had been relentless in insisting that she continue with all her other practice. Fortunately, Yan had had her ongoing physical changes explained to him by Simon. Yan and Simon had pooled their collective medical and herbal knowledge and decided to supplement her diet with some adaptogen herbs the Russians had been experimenting with. These helped her body adapt to its changes and lessened her symptoms. Some algae type powder she was having in fruit juice was helping her body with its detox as well. The payback was that Yan was about to beef up her Silat training. Up until now they’d only covered multi-level fighting stances, basic footwork called langkah and a set of upper body movements that Yan said would make sense when she started training with weapons.
Yan and the Major were waiting for her when she got to the club’s gym where they’d agreed to meet. The Major made at least two of Yan.
Yan proceeded to demonstrate why some of the most commonly used punches and kicks often failed against a larger opponent and left the defender vulnerable. Then he demonstrated alternatives and how to break various holds. “Once you have your opponent on the defensive he has less time to think up his next offensive strategy. Always try to take the first move, take them by surprise. Startle them if you can by shouting at them. Confuse them with speed and most of all use whatever weapon you can quickly grab or improvise. Even dirt from the ground that can be thrown in their face. That’s enough of the demo. Major, fancy a bit of sparring?”
The Major’s mouth quirked in a smile. “It would be a pleasure. Prepare to have your balls tweaked Monkey Man”.
Yan laughed at the Major’s attempt to goad him and get him off-guard. “Funnily enough my nickname was orangutang when I was a kid. Let’s see how the monkey fares against the tiger shall we?” Yan wasted no time and came up from a crouch with a side of hand hit aimed at the Major’s jaw.
The Major saw it coming and simply fell and rolled out of the way then came up behind Yan grabbing him by both arms “Now what you going to do little man?”
Yan kicked down onto the Major’s shin and broke free from his grip spinning around to connect gently with the Major’s crotch.
The Major swore “bloody hell” and lunged for Yan who evaded. The Major had to go with the lunge and roll to recover to an upright position. He bowed to Yan “most impressive! I would be interested in spending time with you to study your techniques when I return.”
Yan bowed. “I’d be honoured, I’m sure there is much you can teach me too.”
Yan locked up the gym for the night then walked with them to the entrance. George was waiting for Tyra. So was Steven, in his usual spot watching from across the street.
The Major frowned, sensing Tyra’s fear “Who’s the hood?”
George was impressed that the Major had quickly assessed the threat but was cautious. “Just a local wheeler and dealer. Steven Drake, not a guy we want to mess with if we can avoid it.”
The Major collected his rent-a-car from the pub and headed out. Underway he made a call on his hands free.
A friendly voice greeted him on the speaker. “What can I do for you John?”
“Been staying in an interesting town down South.”
“How interesting?”
“A couple of things have my skin prickling, probably nothing but I wondered if you had anything on a couple of the characters”.
“You know I’ll be happy to John. If I’d we’d all listened to your hunches when we were back in Kandahar I wouldn’t now be in a wheelchair doing this desk job.”
The Major winced. He’d have to live with his decision to follow the orders that time and the lives that were irrevocably affected by his choice. He’d told his second in command about his hunch but they’d both gone ahead with the op anyway. “It wasn’t your fault Andrew, you were following the chain of command. You know the top brass would never have tolerated one of their Majors being psychic. We couldn’t go against orders on the basis of my hunches.”
“Even so.” Andrew sighed. “What’s the town?”
“Boswell. Its a small town up in the highland lakes area. What you got on one Steven Drake?”
“Hmm, let me see. Looks like he makes his living selling everything from cars to tractors and machinery parts to the local farmers. Member of the region’s chamber of commerce and donates to a few local charities. Seems respectable enough however there’s a note here. A report from the local constabulary that he’s suspected of dealing also in drugs and other contraband but that they’ve been unable to find any evidence. The police haven’t laid any charges against him but they’re monitoring his activities.”
“Fits. What about one Simon Harris, lives at 7 Park St Boswell?”
“Records show that residence as being owned by a trust. It’s been run by the Goodwin family since forever. The last trustee died recently under unusual circumstances, in the Boswell area. Forensics report says his body was mauled by a large animal and that he died of injuries received. The new trustee is his sister Annabelle Goodwin, in her seventies, retired freelance bookkeeper, primary residence appears to be in the city. Oh wait a minute! There’s a business registered at that address. Something called “Left-hand Adventures” but the business type is only listed as entertainment. It’s registered to your Simon Harris. Let me check something.”
John waited while he listened to the busy typing on the other end of the phone.
Andrew finally came back on the line. “Well he pays his taxes, quite a bit going by this. Whatever the business is it pays well. Looks like Mr Harris has been paying taxes for some time. His records go back quite a way, at least as far as when records were first computerised. How old is he?”
“About early thirties, if that. Anything on a Tyra Goodwin?”
“Hmm, unusual name, shouldn’t be hard. Oh here you go. She’s a librarian, age 50, works in the city.”
“Well she doesn’t now, I just trained her for her security guard license and I wouldn’t put her even at forty.”
“You were right, interesting. What you going to do?”
“I’m a contract trainer, I can pick my work. The boss won’t mind if I ask for a break. Think I’ll come back here in a week or so. That girl’s an innocent. I didn’t like the way that Drake character had her under surveillance, neither did she or her minder. The trout fishing season opens down here soon I think. Got that on your computer too?”
“End of July it opens. Why don’t you contact a real estate broker and see if there are any short term rents coming up in the area, a cabin near one of the lakes perhaps if you’re going fishing. You can stay off everyone’s radar that way”
“You were always the brains of the division Andrew, thanks for the info, I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Do, if it's big enough to get your notice the guys up here in Canberra might want a heads up if anything tangible surfaces”.
16
Simon and Tyra hiked to the remote forested hilltop north of Boswell. It looked out on the lakes below. They’d picked the day based on the weather forecast which for once was spot on. It was one of those rare warm days that you can occasionally get at the end of winter.
By mid-morning they reached the sunny, secluded rock ledge Simon had chosen for their ritual joining. He had come here often over the years, to meditate and to communicate with the rest of his race.
Simon laid out a blanket and started to empty their picnic basket of its contents.
Tyra was feeling a little hesitant about the possible food. “I hope this doesn’t mean that I have to eat any meat for the ritual.”
“The five sacred substances you’re referring to symbolize the elements: earth, air, fire, water and ether. Meat stands for earth, fish for water, grain for air, wine for fire and sex for ether. Intent is what is really important so we can do some substitutions. We will ground ourselves in silence, balance our emotions using breath control and fire our imagination using concentration but I have got us a Tamar Valley pinot noir for our wine. We’ll break from our usual abstinence just for this. I’ve added a couple of herbs to help with the ritual but they won’t affect the taste of the wine. As for the physical contact, I don’t think either one of us wants to substitute for that. I will speak only to give direction otherwise just do as you have practised.”
“So after this I will be like your wife?”
“No, you will be my goddess and I will be your god. You’re not marrying my outer form but instead joining with the divine masculine within me while I join with the divine feminine within you. We recognize our unity, merging our essence into one. Together we connect with the oneness of the all-spirit. There are no injunctions to love, honour and obey as such injunctions would only be to yourself anyway as I am, always have been and always will be part of you. My question now to you is are you ready to accept that I am part of you?”
Tyra was breathless at the beauty of what he had just described. “Yes.”
