by John Ringo
Taking a break, Mike stalked down the corridor of the yacht, figuring he’d go visit Tony’s whore. Maybe she would see reason where her boyfriend did not—and even if she didn’t, he would have a hell of a time trying to convince her.
As Mike walked through the corridors of the opulent yacht, greeting various Keldara as they passed, he began cooling down. To the point where he decided a change of plan was in order. He called the kitchen to get an update on a very specific dinner for two he’d ordered earlier that afternoon. Then he went to his stateroom, shit, showered, and shaved, and threw on tan linen slacks, a black silk button-down shirt, and woven deck shoes.
When he received word that the meal was ready, Mike told them where to deliver it, and strolled down to where Soon Yi was being held.
Oleg was on duty there, and stiffened to attention as Mike approached.
“Oleg.”
“Kildar.”
A rattle made Mike look down the corridor, where a crewmember, pushing a wheeled cart, approached. “Right on time. I am going inside to interrogate the prisoner.”
The big man was already unlocking the door. The service person stopped at the two men. “Everything is here as ordered, sir.”
Mike nodded. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”
A frown crossed Oleg’s face as he took in the place settings, covered dishes, and bottle of wine chilling in a bucket of ice. “. . . Kildar?”
“Yes, Oleg?”
“All this is necessary to interrogate the prisoner?”
“There’s a saying back in the States; if you can’t dazzle ’em with brilliance, then baffle them with bullshit.”
A blond eyebrow raised at the phrase. “Surely that is not what you are serving to her—”
Mike chuckled. “Hardly.” He lifted the largest cover to reveal a succulent roast duck in orange sauce, with Chinese five-spice added for a bit of kick. “Katya told me she didn’t touch any of the food or drink we gave her earlier. Simply put, yesterday we tried hard, now I’m trying a—softer approach.”
“Very well, Kildar.” Oleg opened the door for him.
“Thank you.” Mike paused in the darkened doorway. “There will be no need to open this door unless I specifically order you to, understood?”
Oleg nodded.
“Yes, Kildar.”
He slipped inside and closed the door, hearing the huge Keldara lock it from the outside. Mike stood with his back to the entrance for a moment, letting his senses adjust to the room. Shapes began to materialize in the gloom—a sheet-covered form in a corner of the bed, a chair in the middle of the room. Sounds came to him as well—the most important one being the steady breathing of the person in the bed.
Mike was ninety percent sure she was faking it.
Anyone who lived on the streets developed a subconscious awareness of their surroundings almost immediately. Those who didn’t, died—it was that simple. Soon Yi had been around the block, and Mike was sure she had awakened the moment the door had opened. The big question now was would she come at him soft or hard. If he’d broken her with the waterboarding, she would be soft. If not, she’d come at him hard. If Mike had been a betting man, he’d have said hard.
Time to remove the option, he thought. Mike hit the lights and wheeled the cart into the center of the room. He saw the sheet tremble a bit, but she didn’t move.
“I know you’re awake under there, so you might as well come out. I brought dinner.” Mike removed the cover again, letting the heavenly fragrance of roast duck waft over to her. Smaller dishes held saffron rice and an array of fresh tropical fruit.
Slowly, Soon Yi’s head emerged from underneath the sheet. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to eat. Why don’t you join me? There’s plenty here, and you must be starving by now.” Grabbing the wine from the ice, Mike examined the gewürztraminer with a cocked eyebrow. He would have preferred a beer, but the chef had politely but firmly insisted on pairing the wine with their meal. He checked underneath the table. There, as instructed, was a second bucket filled with iced bottles of Mountain Tiger. With a shrug, he tore the foil off the bottle, then began uncorking it.
“No . . . I mean, why are you doing this?” she asked.
“Because I’m hungry.” Freeing the cork with a pop, Mike filled both wine glasses. He set the bottle back down in the bucket and grabbed the chair from the makeup desk. Setting it down, he picked up the carving knife and fork and pointed with the knife at the edge of the bed across the tray from him. “Come. Sit. Eat.”
Without waiting for her to move, he began expertly carving the duck breast. It was quite easy, since the meat was falling off the bone. “Maybe I will keep the chef onboard a while longer,” he muttered.
Even while carving, Mike was aware of the woman as she slowly crawled to the edge of the bed. She was wearing a short, dark blue silk robe that had been among the clothes they had supplied her with. He heard her pick up the butter knife that was part of her place setting, exchange it for the fork, then exchange that for a pair of chopsticks.
“Wise decision.” He looked up, making her flinch, and smiled. “Shall I serve?”
She stared at him through slitted eyes. “You eat some first.”
Mike shook his head. “It’s the same food for both of us—here, I’ll show you.” He picked up her wine glass and took a mouthful, screwing up his face as he did.
“See—you did poison it!” she accused.
Mike swallowed with an effort. “No—” He coughed. “—it’s just much sweeter than I’d expected.” He extended the glass. “And I’m still standing. Try it.”
She took the glass and sniffed at its contents, then tentatively sipped it. Her face also screwed up into a cute little frown, as the front of her robe slipped open a bit. “You are right, far too sweet. I don’t suppose . . . you have any beer?”
Mike raised his eyebrows. “A girl after my own heart.” He removed the wine bucket from the cart and replaced it with the bucket of beers from underneath. He carved the wax off and removed the cork, then offered her the bottle. “This should be more to your liking.”
She drank, slowly at first, then more deeply, her eyes widening as she swallowed. “That is—incredible!”
“Careful now, don’t go crazy with it,” Mike warned as she tipped the bottle up again.
“Why not—it will probably make what’s going to happen next more bearable,” she said when she’d lowered the bottle again.
Mike had been opening his own bottle of Mountain Tiger, and looked steadily up at her. “Well, since what’s happening now is dinner, I think we’ll be able to manage that without too much difficulty, right?”
Her eyes flicked to the food. “Again, you first,” she said as she took another swig.
“Fine by me.” Picking up her plate, Mike filled it with duck breast in sauce, rice, and slices of fresh papaya, mango, pineapple, and star fruit. He cut the breast with his fork, speared a piece, and brought it to his mouth. “Damn . . . that is good.” He tried another bite with some rice, and enjoyed it even more. “I think I’ve changed my mind. You can watch me eat all of this instead.”
She licked her lips—a sight Mike appreciated. “Perhaps—since you seem to be all right—I will have some.”
Mike offered her the plate, which she took and set back down on the cart. She picked up her chopsticks again, and her gaze rose to meet his. “Enjoy.”
She smiled briefly at that, then attacked her plate with vigor. Mike ate sparingly, making sure to keep her plate full as well as the cold beers coming. After three helpings—of everything, including the beer—Soon Yi dropped her chopsticks, sat back on her elbows, and belched.
She giggled and covered her mouth with a small hand. “You probably think that is rude.”
Mike shook his head—Jace had given him a crash course in Chinese table etiquette. “On the contrary, I believe that means the food was good, right? I’ll have to let the chef know.”
Soon Yi
pushed herself back up just enough to grab her latest beer. “Who are you?”
Mike smiled. “Just another crazy round-eye, that’s all.”
She smiled back, then frowned in mock annoyance. “Who has enough men and guns to take pirates down in their home waters? Who has—” she lifted her beer bottle, “—enough connections to bring in the beer that’s being sold on the black market for two hundred pesos per bottle? You’re anything but a crazy round-eye . . .”
“What about you?” Mike asked. “You don’t seem like the typical Southeast Asian streetwalker. And why’d you try so hard to hide the fact that you speak English?”
Soon Yi shrugged. “What did you expect—the biggest pirate group in the area . . .” she took several swallows of beer, then belched again. “That no one in their right mind would screw with, all taken apart like . . . like . . .” She drained the bottle and set it on the cart with a clank! “like it was a child’s fort made of pillows. If any of my regular customers find out I speak English, they think it means I think I’m somehow better than them. It makes them mean. If I told you that, I thought it would get me killed.”
“And now?” Mike asked, raising his own bottle to his lips.
“Now . . . I have the chance to thank you for sparing my life . . .” She rose off the bed, the short robe hanging open as she came around the cart, pushing it aside to sit in his lap. “Now you want Asian delight?” she asked as she rubbed his chest, then began unbuttoning his shirt with deft twists of her fingers.
“Well, I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind—” was all Mike could say before she kissed him. Her mouth was hot and sweet, the spice of the duck sauce mingling pleasantly with the tang of the Mountain Tiger beer.
Caught off guard for a moment, Mike recovered quickly, darting his tongue between her lips. She opened her mouth wider and welcomed him in as her hands finished unbuttoning his shirt. One spidered its way down his chest and stomach, heading for his fly, while her other hand held the back of his head in place while she kept kissing him.
Mike’s hands were anything but idle either; he barely had to touch the robe before it fell off, revealing the rest of the taut, athletic body that had been hinted at on the deck the night before. Despite being Asian, she had small but full, round breasts with small nipples. He grew even harder at the sight, but restrained himself.
“You want me love you long time?” she whispered in his ear.
“Sure, but without the broken English cliché,” he replied.
“You’d be amazed at how that turns on American tourists,” she said.
“Who said I was an American?” With that Mike grabbed her tight ass with both hands and stood up, lifting her with him. Soon Yi gasped in surprise and threw her arms around his neck, while her legs snaked around his waist. The silk robe slipped down around her waist, but he made sure to keep it with them as he walked toward the bed.
“You have that kind of look about you . . . like you expect everyone else to submit to your demands . . .” She whispered in between nibbles on his ear.
“Oh? And would you?” He asked as he set her down on the silk sheets.
“Since you could kill me and feed me to the sharks, and no one would know, it would be in my best interests, too . . . ohh . . .” her voice became more breathy as Mike used the robe to massage her breasts. Rubbing first one, then the other with the smooth silk, making her arch her back as her nipples stiffened under his expert attention.
“Well, you’ve seen how bad I can be . . . I think I’ll show you just how good I can be too . . .” Mike kept up the silken massage while his other hand gently explored between her legs. She moaned more loudly and spread them wider.
Mike didn’t need any more of an invitation. Sliding down, he began flicking at her pussy with his tongue, just enough to tantalize her without giving any true satisfaction. And all the while, he kept caressing her firm, high breasts through the sheer silk. He knew from experience how aroused a woman could get from that, and judging by Soon Yi’s quickening moans, she was just as susceptible.
Soon Yi responded immediately, pressing his head down between her silken thighs while squirming with delight as he lapped her. After a few licks up, down, and from side-to-side, Mike curled his tongue into a U-shape and teased out the swollen bud of flesh he knew was there. He teased it unmercifully, alternating sucking on it and blowing across it. He drew it back and forth, in and out until she fairly screamed with pleasure, but hadn’t come yet.
After several intoxicating minutes, during which his tongue was about to go numb, she pulled away and sat up. “My turn.” Pulling him upright, she laid a trail of hot kisses down his chest to his pants, where she unbuttoned him and drew his pants down, maneuvering around the definite bulge there. Mike was pleased at his foresight in not wearing any underwear.
“Mmm.” Stroking his erect shaft, she played with the tip of him, flicking her tongue out to play with his head the way he had played with her before. One of her hands massaged his balls as skillfully as if she was holding a pair of Baoding balls, while the other worked his shaft like, well, like a pro, to be perfectly honest. But that didn’t mean Mike wasn’t enjoying himself.
Before he could say anything, she leaned forward and placed her wet lips on the head of his cock. Undulating her neck, she cradled his head with her tongue while varying the pressure of her lips around it. The feeling was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and Mike almost lost himself in the rush of pleasure she was giving. However, he brought himself back from the edge to keep an eye on her, although she was making even that very simple act very difficult.
She took him deeper into her mouth, and soon Mike found himself being blown quite expertly. Although he would have expected that her rather small mouth wouldn’t have been able to handle him, she deep-throated him with relative ease, only gagging once before settling into a natural rhythm. She even played with his tip, sliding it around her cheeks before going down to the base of his shaft. He let her go for another few minutes, and even let her talented tongue work its magic on his balls for a bit, swirling all around them.
Even though Mike was enjoying the hell of of it, after his brief lapse of concentration earlier, he maintained situational awareness of her at all times. That was one of the ways he could delay his orgasm for as long as he wanted. Her “seduction” of him was what made this whole scenario even more exciting—he knew this sexy Asian whore was anything but a prostitute, and given what he had done to her earlier, he figured she’d probably like nothing more than to kill him if she ever got the chance. That adrenaline high, mixed with the sex, was a combination he couldn’t beat with a whip—although maybe he’d try that next time.
He did, however, make her work for it. About the time he figured she might get lockjaw, he gently pulled out, every inch of him tingling. His erection was still strong, and he tapped the tip of his dick on the swollen lips of her pussy. She pushed her hips off the bed, arching to meet him.
“Please . . . please . . .” she moaned.
After sheathing his member, Mike used his tip with near-surgical skill, inserting it just far enough to widen her lips, then pulling out again. The movement was just enough to excite the vulva and cause an almost overwhelming desire in any woman for the rest of him. He had played this game with several of the local girls, and it never failed to drive them crazy. One of them had even chased him out of the bedroom, still stark naked, when an incursion alert had forced him to interrupt their sex session before he was really able to get started.
This time, however, he would be practicing a variation of coitus interruptus, although not for the usual reason. He alternated his strokes, gradually going deeper inside her, although he was careful to keep the pressure on her clit and labia. Since she had stimulated his head so well, it was now numb for all intents and purposes, allowing him to ride her for as long as he wanted.
However, he kept up his odd thrusting, first shallow, then deeper, alternating them, but not s
ettling into any sort of typical rhythm that she could enjoy. Indeed, she groaned and moved her hips in frustration as he continued tantalizing her, but Mike was just as determined to prevent her from enjoying this at all.
Finally, Mike had had enough, although to judge from Soon Yi’s excited moans, she could have gone all night. He slowly withdrew from her one last time, then reared up and left the bed, leaving her gasping and staring at him in shock.
“Where—where are you going?”
“This has been delightful, but I’m afraid there are other matters aboard ship that require my attention.” Mike pulled his pants back on and zipped up. “But don’t worry—” he said as he pulled his shirt on. “—I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
And with that, he grabbed the cart, wheeled it out the door, and was gone, leaving a puzzled—and very frustrated—Soon Yi behind.
* * *
After her second encounter with the Kildar, Soon Yi had wrestled with the turmoil of emotions coursing through her.
Out of everything that had happened, the sex with the Westerner was actually the least of her worries. She had been raped while still a teenager, by one of her countrymen almost a decade ago. He had never been caught. Oddly, and although she knew it made no sense, she sometimes felt like she owed that man her thanks. Since she would never be considered properly marriageable after that, it had been a big reason for her entering the intelligence service.
Along with that, her father had been profoundly disappointed in her, as they had taken the risk of violating China’s one-child policy to replace their son, who had been killed in a traffic accident, Instead of the replacement son they craved, they had a daughter instead. Soon Yi was raised in an environment that created a classic closet narcissist; craving acceptance and affection from men, but unable to reciprocate in kind. As she was also very intelligent, once she recognized this, she did everything she could to erect a wall between herself and her emotions, suppressing them in order to excel at her job, the only thing left that gave her any satisfaction.
