"Paige" (inspired by the FX tv series "The Americans")

[HumanBean]

Connor the Spy (aka "William the Male-Whore"), with Emily Mathers at Gracie Mansion, New York City:

As Connor pulled the Towncar up to the entrance of the Mayor's official home, a valet opened Emily's door. He remained behind the wheel. He expected he would be told where to park and wait for Emily to conclude her socializing here.

Instead, his client told the valet, "Park the car up close, if you don't mind. My driver's coming in with me."

Connor looked back between the seats as Emily leaned to look forward at him. "C'mon, William. This is why I insisted you wear an expensive suit."

He hadn't been expecting this at all. He hadn't expected to drive her to Gracie Mansion either. But to be invited to go in with her? Connor stepped out. He instinctively pulled the keys, only to hand them to a second valet. Walking around the rear of the car, he took another look at what Emile was wearing and smiled. She was simply incredible. He so badly wanted to get her out of that dress to see her in the flesh.

Was he going to see her out of her clothes? Anna, his handler, couldn't tell him whether or not Emily had had sex with his predecessor. Maybe she had no interest in getting fucked. Maybe she just wanted a pretty face in a nice suit to stand at her side amongst New York City's elite.

Connor offered Emily an elbow. They headed up the steps slowly, her dress clinging to her form like a strait jacket. They weren't even inside before other guests of the fundraiser began commenting on how beautiful she looked. Connor found himself wishing he was standing a few feet away from her. Up this close he got less of a view of her curves. Ironic.

 

[HumanBean]

Nick, with Kitty; Nick calling Paige:

(OOC: Picks up from where we last saw them, here.)


"Kirk is waiting on me," Kitty told Nick. She headed for the apartment's exit a second time.

This time, Nick didn't stop her with questions. She already told him all he needed to know. Yes, she'd enjoyed fucking him. But she'd done it for financial gain. She'd gotten Kirk's price for the counterfeited concert tickets lowered by sucking Nick's cock. Then she'd gotten some tickets for her own use by fucking Nick. Then, she'd gotten the price of the tickets dropped to zero plus a favor in the future by letting Nick fuck her in the ass. Twice.

It had been an expensive fuck. But Nick wouldn't soon forget it.

He headed to the bathroom for a badly needed shower. He smelled like sex warmed over. While under the hot streaming water, he beat off. He was kind of surprised that there was anything left in his balls to be expelled. He'd never had as many orgasms in as short a time as he had with Kitty.

There was a serious irony to consider as he was recovering from yet another climax. Nick hadn't been thinking about Kitty as his soapy hand slid up and down his shaft. He'd been imagining Paige Jennings. When he got out, dried, and donned a pair of pajama bottoms, Nick's cock was semi-hard. He was still thinking of the cute, young redhead.

She wasn't going to come visit him tonight. Nick knew that. And yet, he called the burner phone number she'd given him a couple of days earlier. It went through to the automated, computer voice mail voice. He didn't speak in time, though. The system hung up on him. So he called back, intending to leave a simple message: "It's Nick. Call me. Or come by."

 

[Alice2015]

Renee Beeman with Denise, James, and Terry:

Denise couldn't have known that her discussion with James as they undressed to fuck had been as easily heard by Renee as it had been. And any concern the trainee had had for her trainer regarding having a stranger's cock inside of her had gone right out the window with Denise's comment about Renee's husband being on the way out of the FBI for disciplinary reasons. Right now, Renee would have sold Denise out to an outlaw biker gang.

As she'd told Terry she was going to do, Renee just watched as the porn-worthy situation unfolded. Well, just watch wasn't entirely accurate, as Renee inconspicuously pulled out her cell phone and began recording what was taking place: Renee sucking James's cock while Terry fucked her from behind; both men shoving fingers up her pussy; Terry fucking Denises' ass.

And the only thing Denise had done contrary to all this intrusion upon her holes was to struggle a moment while she grew accustomed to Terry's cock in her bum, and begging "Gentle. Please." Other than that, the FBI HR trainer appeared to be an entirely willing participant, albeit in an intoxicated state.

Terry and James both caught sight of Renee recording them with her camera's phone, yet neither of them spoke up against it. In fact, Terry smiled at the camera on several occasions, particularly as the last drops of his cum were splashing upon Denise's back during his first orgasm.

Denise only compounded her complicity in the encounter by masturbating herself to an orgasm after the men had both emptied their balls ... twice! Renee had stood up at this point and moved to the end of the bed to get a straight through the raised, bent knees shot of Denise's fingers on her clit and face tightened in the wonder of sexual euphoria. Again, Renee considered, it was a scene worthy of a hardcore porn director.

When the three of them were finally finished -- all three of them were lying back, recuperating from their exertion and satisfaction -- Renee turned and left the bedroom. She slipped most of the little single serving bottles of alcohol into her purse, knowing that they would be charged to the room, and headed out the door to go home. Her work here was done.

Back home, she found her husband asleep on the living room couch. She considered waking him to come to bed but instead showered, put on some sleeping clothes, and snuggled up to Stan in a spooning position and pulled the blanket over them. They slept in each other's arm until morning.

 

[Alice2015]

Paige:

The phone that Nick called in an attempt to contact Paige following Kitty's departure was a burner that was not on Paige's person. Instead, it was hidden in an abandoned building that still had electrical power, where Paige had been able to hide it and the powere charger that always kept it charged. Any calls or texts that came to it were automatically forwarded to the second burner, which Paige did have on her person.

She'd gotten up to eat some food and consider her situation when the forwarded call came in. She let it go to voicemail, which -- for additional reasons -- was not recorded on the phone itself. Instead, the message was directed to a cloud voicemail box, which Paige then accessed via a third phone after she'd left the garage in the dark of night and walked several blocks away.

Once she'd made the connection, she heard her second lover say, "It's Nick. Call me. Or come by."

Paige most definitely wanted to come by; she was horny and really didn't care which of her lovers satisfied her needs, so long as one did. She resisted, though, unable to get Nick's other lover out of her mind. She should have gone straight back to the garage, but Paige's mind was reeling from all that had happened in the past few days. Instead, she went to a nearby bar using her new ID -- she'd had Connor list her age at 21 -- and let a man pick up on her. He got a motel room that wasn't the fancy suite out of which Connor was currently working, but it was far more comfortable than the garage.

 

[Alice2015]

Emily Mathers with Connor the Spy (aka "William the Male-Whore"):

Inside the official residence of New York City's Mayor, Emily's wardrobe was garnering her a great deal of attention. Many of the people at Gracie Mansion had seen here dressed nicely in the past, for dinners or other social functions that were less formal and fancy as this particular fundraiser for conservation efforts. But many of the people here were used to seeing Emily Mathers like this, in her work clothes as she hunted down international criminals and/or spies.

Initially, Emily strolled the mansion with a hand slipped into Connor's crooked elbow, greeting people she didn't know, people she did know, and people she thought she might want to know better later. She only introduced Wiliam those people who actually asked who he was; many of these people likely wondered whether or not Connor a paid escort and, if so, whether he would be providing Emily sexual pleasure after the fundraiser.

She couldn't have given a fuck about what people thought about her relationship with William. She was a busy person working hard to succeed in a male dominated world, which meant that she didn't have time for a long-term relationship, particularly one that might result in unexpected children for whom Emily would then have to quit her job -- or, at the least, cease her climb up the ladder -- so that she could stay home and live the American dream with the rugrats.

At one point, a fellow Law Enforcement member strolled up, greeted Emily, shook hands with her and her escort, asked the younger man's name and occupation, and waited for Connor to reply. He didn't even get the chance to open his mouth before Emily interjected with a firm tone, "He's eye candy, Paul ... here to keep people from asking why it is that a woman as beautiful as I am, can't find a man to keep her happy."

To Connor, Emily said softly, "I need to speak to this man a moment. Give me a moment ... but ... stay close." She released Connor's elbow, took the other man's bent arm, and began walking slowly with him through the party; she would glance back occasionally to ensure that Connor was nearby but far enough out of hearing range not to pick up on the conversation.

She spoke to the man about Oleg Burov, about Stan Beeman's visit with him, and about the operation to replace Vladimir Putin called Operation Dissolve. The conversation continued for almost 15 minutes, with the pair of Agents -- and the Russian Illegal a few steps behind -- slowly meandering all about the Mansion's main floor.

When finally, they were done with their talk, Emily turned to take Connor's elbow again, whispering to him, "My god, that man's a pompous ass. Let's get out of here." She directed Connor back to the Mansion's exit, gestured for the car, got in, and drove off. Initially when she was asked her destination, Emily simply said, "Take the FDR. I want to look at the water."

She directed him to Battery Park, at the extreme southern end of Manhattan, where Emily had Connor pull over so that she could get out to look at the Statue of Liberty. She'd always loved this view, since she was little girl, and her father would bring her here to look out at the Big Metal Lady. But it was cold, so they got back into the car, turned the heat to high and full fan, and headed back north again. They didn't go to Emily's home, though, instead pulling into one of the nice hotels where she had a room already rented for the night.

Entering the room and heading toward the glass doors through which the Big Apple was well displayed, Emily found the bag she'd had delivered there sitting just inside the doorway. She gestured to Connor, "Grab that will you? Take it to the bedroom. Then, come back out here to help me get out of this dress."

When Connor returned a moment later, Emily had him begin lowering the zipper that ran from the nape of her neck to just above her delicious, pear-shaped ass. She pulled the dress from her shoulders, letting it fall -- with additional help due to it tightness -- to the floor. That left her in only a strapless white bra, a matching thong, and her tall pair of heels. She turned to Connor and immediately began undressing him as well.

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Emily:

Connor was impressed with Gracie Mansion. He'd visited historic homes in America. But he'd never been in one that was still a person's active residence. The mayor wasn't here this evening, as Emily had told Connor he wouldn't be. He was under indictment for state and federal crimes. Most people of position, power, and wealth were staying clear of the man.

Connor was impressed with Emily, too. He hadn't expected such a beautiful target when he learned of his task tonight. He, like many others here tonight, was eager to learn whether or not he'd be having sex with her.

It didn't go unnoticed by Connor that Emily only occasionally introduced him to the other guests. This was his first assignment as a paid escort. He didn't know whether or not this was normal. When she did introduce him, it was as My friend, William.

"He's eye candy, Paul," Emily told one man who asked Connor's identity when he approached. "Here to keep people from asking why it is that a woman as beautiful as I am, can't find a man to keep her happy."

Connor smiled a bit at Emily's description of herself. She'd called herself beautiful. She was, of course. Had she said it because she was conceited? Or because others did question her inability to land a husband. Connor understood her dedication to her job with the FBI, so he wouldn't have questioned her lack of a life partner. But he was a progressive. Others, well, they were conservative idiots who put everyone else in a box that only they defined.

He couldn't help but wonder if maybe Emily might be homosexual. Gays and lesbians these days could be anything, do anything, go anywhere. But Emily was a Federal Bureau of Investigation Assistant Senior Agent in Charge. Was that a position she could hold if she was more interested in pussies than cocks? The world had changed a lot in recent decades. But it was still a world dominated by old white men whose thinking didn't change that easily.

"I need to speak to this man a moment," Emily said softly to Connor, continuing, "Give me a moment..."

He was already taking a casual step back, responding, "Of course."

Emily added, "... but ... stay close."

Again, Connor said, "Of course."

He let the couple take a couple of steps away before he began following. He casually maintained a gap of about 10 feet. It prevented him from looking like a bodyguard. Or a stalker? To look less conspicuous, Connor smiled to people who made eye contact with them. He greeted them at times. But always, his ears were keen on the conversation taking place ahead of him.

Connor caught some key words: Burov, Beeman, Putin, and Dissolve. He wished he'd been able to bring his chauffeur's cap with its camera and microphone. But Emily had made him leave it behind. In his mind, he chastised Anna for not providing him with a directional mike for just such a situation.

The conversation had been going on for quite a while. Connor glanced to his watch. He estimated that he'd been following the pair for at least ten minutes. Then, another word spoken just loud enough reached Connor's ears: Illegals. His attention perked up immediately. Inconspicuously, he closed the distance. Again, he only caught parts of sentences. But he picked up on the word Illegals again, as well as Toronto, embassy, Sweden, and Moscow. Connor assumed they were speaking about the flight of the Jennings family from Washington DC.

Then Connor heard the most significant and exciting thing he'd eavesdropped upon yet. The man said, "The daughter is still here. In the US. Possibly in DC."

He was, of course, speaking of Paige Jennings. The FBI knew that Elizabeth and Philip's elder child had not fled the country with them. Connor was happy to know what the FBI knew. At the same time, he was concerned that the Bureau was obviously actively searching for her.

"The son is under surveillance, yes?" the man asked Emily. Connor didn't hear her answer. Whatever it was, the man nodded his head.

Then the conversation was over. Emily returned to Connor, taking his arm as she whispered, "My god, that man's a pompous ass."

"Who is he?" Connor asked casually. The man had the look of Law Enforcement. FBI maybe. Homeland Security? CIA? He sensed hesitation in Emily and quickly added, "I mean, it doesn't matter. I was just curious."

"Let's get out of here," she told him.

They returned to the car and drove to the Battery Park at the south end of Manhattan. Connor wrapped his knee-length, woolen chauffeur's coat around Emily's shoulders to warm her as she admired the Statue of Liberty. She called it the Big Metal Lady, which Connor thought was cute.

He stepped closer to her and pointed a bit to the right of Liberty Island. "My ancestors, paternal anyway, came through Ellis Island. Don't know much about them besides that, unfortunately."

They got back into the car, with Emily sitting up front this time. They headed to a Midtown hotel. Before they arrived, Emily told William to lose the chauffeur's cap. Connor presumed she didn't want to be seen as a client of a paid driver.

Connor had hoped that they'd be returning to her own apartment. Anna had provided him with some additional microphones she wanted placed about the place. They were the latest tech, indetectable by bug scanners. You had to actually see them to know they were there.

At the hotel, Emily took his elbow again. They headed straight for the elevator. He asked quietly, "You already have a keycard, I guess?" This had obviously been part of her plan for the evening.

In the room, Emily gestured to a bag near the door. "Grab that will you? Take it to the bedroom."

Connor snatched up the bag and turned to do as told. He went just two steps before Emily added, "Then, come back out here to help me get out of this dress."

He turned to look at Emily with a raised eyebrow. She wasn't looking his way, though. She was heading for the sliding glass doors that looked out on the balcony and the city beyond that. Connor realized that his cock was hardening. They were on opposite sides of an international intelligence gathering effort. But he was still a man, she was still a beautiful woman, and she had paid for his services tonight, whatever they were to be.

He set the bag on a dresser in the bedroom. He peeked through the crack between the door and frame. She was walking to the glass doors that looked out upon the balcony and the city beyond. More importantly, she wasn't paying him any attention. Quietly, Connor unzipped the bag to take a look inside. His eyes opened wider, and his lips spread. Okay. I see now, he thought to himself.

He zipped the bag again and returned to Emily. She indicated the zipper that ran down her back. He lowered it slowly, intimately. As he did, his cock twitched in his pants. A chill ran up his spine, and gooseflesh exploded across his arms. Connor felt embarrassed a bit. It wasn't like he'd never undressed a beautiful woman before.

When he released the zipper pull, Emily pulled the dress from her shoulders. It fell to the ground about her feet. Connor involuntarily drew a deep breath of excitement, then released it. Emily very likely heard his reaction. She was simply incredible. Smooth, flawless skin. Wonderful curves. A dramatic thong highlighted her firm, pear-shaped ass.

Connor was unsure as to what he was supposed to do next. He wanted to touch her so badly. But should he? Or was he to let her make the first intimate move. Fearing doing something wrong by making contact, he simply whispered, "Magnificent. You are magnificent, Miss Mathers."

 

[HumanBean]

Denise, with Renee, James, and Terry in the hotel room; then Stan with Renee Beeman at home:

Denise lay sandwiched between the two men, sleeping off the ecstasy and exertion. An hour or two, she wasn't sure, passed before she awoke. Someone was jostling her about a bit, rolling her to her belly and breasts. She recognized through her haze of the alcohol the feel of pressure at her sphincter.

"No, no!" she said firmly. But she was being firmly held down. A well-lubed cock penetrated her as she hollered, "NO!"

It was hopeless, though. She struggled and looked about her at the same time. Terry was lying beside her, on his side, watching as James sunk his shaft deep inside Denise's ass. The blonde, white man dropped his weight down upon her. A hand covered her mouth. What was legally a rape continued as the bald black man watched with a smile.

When it was done, Terry and James traded places, sticking with the same hole. Denise simply laid there, resigned to her fate. She had initially wondered why Renee would allow the men to do this to her. At some point, though, Denise had realized that the other woman was no longer in the room.

When it was over, the men rose, dressed, and left. Denise's ass hurt like it never had before. Again, through the haze of the alcohol swamping her brain, she told her as she had so many times Never again, this is it, I'm getting sober. Deep inside, she knew she never would be.

..................................
​

Stan stirred at the feel of his wife snuggling up to him on the couch. He'd removed his shoes, slacks, and dress shirt. He still wore his socks, boxers, and tee shirt. In an instant, his cock began hardening at the feel of her butt against it.

He considered asking Renee if she wanted to get busy. Stan decided against it. He was bushed, and Renee seemed ready to sack out, too. He pulled her close, kiss the back of her neck once, purred a bit, and drifted off.

He awoke with it still dark outside. During the night, Renee had rolled to face him. Stan held her in both arms. Once again, his cock hardened instinctively. He tried to rise without waking his wife but failed. He whispered, "Don't move, don't get up, don't do anything. It's early. I'm going to make coffee."

He did just that, all the time watching Renee and wondering. She'd gone out with a superior from the Bureau's Human Resources Division. Stan hadn't liked that. When he thought deeper about it, though, he knew he had no reason to object to it. He still didn't want to believe that Renee was an Illegal. His source of the information was, of course, unreliable. How could he believe Philip Jennings about this? The man had lied to him for years.

Still, Stan knew what he had to do. He had to initiate an investigation of his wife. He had to know one way or the other whether or not Renee was a traitor to his country. And to him.

 

[HumanBean]

Henry Jennings and Stan Beeman, at the Beeman House:

Henry was up early simply because he'd gone to bed just as early the night before. He fired up a handheld gaming device and played for a while. Next, he did the same with a game on his laptop. Neither made him very happy. He wanted access to his internet game platforms and MMORPGs. He'd played them during his limited free time at St Edwards Academy. Before his parents were revealed to be Russian spies and fled for the Motherland.

Stan had nixed Henry from the internet, though. He'd said, "It's not that we don't trust you with them, Henry. It's that we're afraid your parents and sister might try to contact you through them."

"Wouldn't that be good for you, though?" Henry had asked. He'd clarified, "Good for the FBI? I mean, you want to catch them, right? I could help."

Henry had been hurting at the time he'd said that. He'd been very disappointed. Not only had his parents and sister lied to him, but they'd also abandoned him. Henry was still under the impression that Paige had fled with Elizabeth and Philip. Stan was, too, at the moment, though that would change soon enough.

Eventually, Henry's stomach sent him downstairs for breakfast. He found Stan in the kitchen in his boxers. Renee was on the couch under a blanket. He continued toward the fridge, complaining, "Eww, here, on the couch where I watch television?"

Stan laughed as he instinctively pulled open the fridge for the boy. Henry practically lived off cold cereal. "We didn't do anything on the couch. I fell asleep and--" He went quiet. Laughing softly, he said, "It's my house. I don't have to explain this to you."

Henry smirked as he retrieved the milk, repeating, "Eww."

The two stood in the kitchen in silence for several minutes. Stan continued sipping at his coffee. Henry finished a bowl of Cocoa Puffs, then began on a second one. He gestured for coffee. Stan hesitated, smiling, but filled a mug for him. Henry sipped, grimaced, added sugar, grimaced again, poured his cereal milk in, added more sugar, and finally began drinking bigger gulps. He still grimaced.

"What's your plan for the day?" Stan asked.

Henry looked surprised. "I get to have a plan ... Stan?"

They shared a smile at the little joke. "You can't stay here in the house all day anymore."

"I went to the arcade," Henry reminded the man. He then added, "With two cars full of FBI agents following me, and one playing Tetris very badly."

Again, they shared a smile. "What if you came to the Bureau with me today?"

"Really?" Henry asked with obvious excitement. He hadn't been to work with Stan since he'd done a Who's my hero report for middle school years earlier.

(Philip had been a little offended that his son hadn't picked him as his hero, of course. What father wouldn't? But rather than fight it, Philip had demanded that Henry interview Stan. "He's an FBI Agent, for crying out loud. Of course you're going to write it on him!")

"Sure, why not," Stan said. He filled his mug again, continuing, "And you can play your online games on one of the computers out Tech can set you up with. They're secure against, well, everything. So, whaddaya think?"

"Absolutely!" Henry said with excitement. Without thinking about it, Henry surged forth and wrapped his arms around Stan's torso for a hug. He'd never done that before. In fact, he'd hardly ever done it with his own parents, particularly his own dad. Almost immediately, Henry felt the awkwardness. He backed up, softly saying, "Sorry. I'm just tickled pink."

"Tickled pink?" Stan responded, laughing. "Do kids still say that these days?"

"Old movies on cable, I think," Henry said. He turned away, saying, "I'm gonna dress."

Stan watched the teen disappear. He then looked toward his wife. Renee had awoken but not spoken yet. Stan figured she was letting the affectionate exchange play out. That nagging thought Philip had put in Stan's head returned. It was quickly replaced with the sneaky reason he was allowing Henry to come to the Bureau with him.

The computer he would put Henry at was entirely open to the internet. No restrictions, just really good surveillance and intrusion software. Stan's boss had come up with an idea for learning the locations of the missing members of the Jennings Family. All of Henry's social media and gaming accounts were being monitored in real time by a team of three Techs in the Counterintelligence Division. They had been since Stan returned home with Henry from New Hampshire.

The hope was that one of his family members would try to contact Henry. If they didn't, maybe someone else in Directorate S would do so on the family's behalf. There was another reason that Stan himself had no idea of. Key people in the Bureau suspected that Paige Jennings was still in the country.

No one of Paige's description had been picked up on surveillance entering any of the Russian or Russian-friendly embassies, consuls, or Rezidentura in Canada or Mexico since the Family's disappearance. Also, sources inside Russia's Washington DC Rezidentura claimed that Directorate S was searching for a missing female Illegal. That was all the information the Bureau had on the situation so far.

Stan felt a bit guilty about using the boy this way. He was Henry's unofficial guardian at the moment. But he was an Agent with the FBI first. And there was the matter of him living across the street from a family of now-missing Russian spies for the last several years without knowing it. He needed a win, even if it came at a loss for Henry's family. Especially if it came at a loss for Henry's family.

 

[Alice2015]

Emily with Connor in a NYC Hotel:

With her dress gathered around her feet, Emily looked over her bare shoulder at the young man who was helping her undress.

"Magnificent," Connor said. "You are magnificent, Miss Mathers."

She smiled, pleased at his compliment. She did look good; that was so very true, so there was no reason to deny it. Mother Nature, healthy diet, exercise, and a desire to stun men -- and women, too -- had resulted in the tight, curvy body that Emily sported today. She asked, "My bag is in the bedroom, yes?"

William confirmed the bag's location; he smiled a bit, making Emily wonder if perhaps he hadn't peeked inside. She stepped out of her gathered dress, turning to fully reveal her front side to the escort/driver/Russian operative. The flesh-colored, strapless bra and tiny, matching thong fit her tightly; her body seemed to be screaming Let me out! Set me free!

There was a knock at the door, to which -- without hesitation and obviously with anticipation of it coming -- Emily said in a seductive tone, "Get that, will you ... William?"

She slid passed him, her bosom glancing ever so gently across his chest and upper arm as she headed for the bedroom. "I'll be waiting. No hurry. Take your time."

At the door, Connor would find a beautiful brunette in a long trench coat. She smiled and -- without waiting for an invitation -- entered, passing by as she said, "You must be William." She continued into the elegant suite's living area, looking off toward the open bedroom doors. She waited until Connor was near again, turned to face him, and shed the coat, revealing a marvelous surprise. "I'm Candy."

The vinyl mini-dress fit Candy's well-rounded body like a second skin: it lifted her impressive, albeit enhanced bosom in and up; reached high enough on her thighs to nearly reveal the panties beneath, assuming there were panties beneath; and featured spike-heeled, knee-high, platform boots that only added to the sex appeal of muscular athletic legs.

Candy smiled wide to Connor as she looked him up and down with a hungry smile. She told him with a suggestive tone, "You'll do. Where's our girl?" She turned without waiting for a reply and strode with widely swaying hips into the bedroom. She moved to the end of the bed, waiting for William to join them. When he did, Emily was sitting in a comfortable armchair near the wall on the opposite side of the bed. Candy smiled to Connor, retrieved the bag of goodies and set it at the end of the bed, then looked to the male third of the trio and asked, "Shall we begin?"

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Emily and "Candy" in a NYC Hotel:

"I'm Candy," she told him from deeper inside the suite.

Without considering how it might sound, Connor murmured, "And I bet you're tasty."

He wasn't sure whether or not she'd heard him. In the middle of the living space, she turned to ogle him hungrily. Was it a sincere expression? Or was she, like Connor, working? "You'll do. Where's our girl?"

Connor was delighted with the situation. At the same time, he was confused. Was he sexually servicing Emily? Candy? Was Candy doing the servicing? Servicing him? Emily? Both of them? Connor nodded toward the bedroom, answering softly, "In there."

Candy headed that way. Neither of the women had eyes on Connor. He retrieved both his overcoat and chauffeur's cap. Following the new girl into the bedroom, he found Emily sitting in a chair on the far side of the bed. He scouted the room like a director scouting a set. He presumed that whatever was going to happen would likely happen on the bed. Casually, he laid the folded coat atop a dresser and the hat upon it. The camera hidden in the latter was looking directly at the bed. The mike on the other side would catch voices and other sounds bouncing off the mirror.

"Shall we begin?" Candy asked. She was speaking to Connor.

He smiled to one woman, then the other. Suggestively with a smirk, he said, "I'm at your command."

(OOC: He will do whatever is asked of him, unless you think it's something you need to question me about.)

 

[Alice2015]

Renee Beeman with Stan and Henry Jennings at the Beeman House:

(OOC: If anyone is following the story, we decided to remove the section where Renee interacted with Henry upstairs. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry your pretty little heads. )

Renee pretended to be asleep when her husband awoke and rose from the couch they were sharing. She wasn't ready to talk to Stan about what had happened last night, and she knew that he would ask; Renee didn't go out with girlfriends often, and never with ones from work, so Stan was going to be curious how things went.

She was conflicted about what she'd done last night. Had she really let those men have their way with Denise? Worse yet, had she really recorded it all on her phone as potential blackmail material for advancing her position within the FBI? The answer to both, of course, was yes. She'd had reason, though; her trainer had said degrading things about her, about her advancement within the FBI, and about her husband's future with the Bureau. When she'd done what she'd did, Renee had been mad and had thought it the right thing. Was that still true? Conflicted, she thought.

She heard Henry descend the stairs and come into the kitchen. Renee smiled when the teen said, "Eww, here, on the couch where I watch television?" She knew what he was alluding to. She listened to the pair talking quietly, to Stan offering to take Henry into work with him, and to the teen responding with great excitement, "Absolutely!"

After Henry headed back upstairs to get ready for the day ahead, Renee finally rolled out of the couch and padded barefoot across to her husband. She kissed him, squeezed him, then stole his coffee mug as she said, "That was very sweet, Stan. You really made his day." She kissed him again, turning away as she said, "I'm going to shower and dress. I'm going in early to study."

 

[Alice2015]

Emily and Candy with Connor in a NYC Hotel:

Emily noticed Connor placing his folded jacket and cap on the dresser opposite her from the bed, but she didn't think it unusual and, thus, had no reason to suspect that a camera in the latter item was pointing directly at her, accompanied by a microphone capable of picking up every word and additional sound. She worried sometimes about blackmail material being collected on her, for use in compromising investigations on which she was working. But she thought she'd been careful about tonight, using Candy -- who she'd used before and had vetted -- and the same escort service she'd used before -- which she had already vetted, unfortunately not discovering the connection to Russia's Directorate S.

"I'm at your command," William responded when the women indicated it was time for him to serve.

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>​

What came next had one purpose and one purpose only: to allow Assistant Special Agent in Charge Emily Mathers to punish those in the world of government and intelligence gathering which and who had prevented her from advancing as quickly and highly as if she'd been a man, while simultaneously presenting her with a level of ecstasy that she rarely if ever enjoyed through what most people would have called normal sex.

The dominatrix unpacked the contents of the black bag, setting each item out neatly, side by side; by the time the bag was empty, the end of the bed was occupied from one side to the other, looking like the surgery preparation table of a mad, sexually deviant scientist. Sometimes, Candy paused to examine the item carefully, looking between the other two people in the room for their reaction.

She ordered Connor to strip, ordered him to his hands and knees on the bed, then shackled him to the headboard with a pair of long-chained handcuffs. She took away his ability to speak with a ball gag, then his ability to see with a hood. Showing the proper concern, she asked if he could breath sufficiently, and getting a nod, continued.

She applied a device that was one part butt plug, one part vibrator, one part cock-and-ball ring; lubed, its six-inch long dildo portion was slipped carefully deep into Connor's anus before she wrapped the hinged ring around his manhood's parts, then energized it. The apparatus was designed to stimulate its male wearer enough to cause him a raging hard-on and pleasure without pushing him to the point of ecstasy, release, and satisfaction. After all, this wasn't about his pleasure.

Connor would see what came next, obviously, though he would hear every sound and word. Blindfolded, he might recognize the sound of latex clothing being peeled from the dominatrix's body; he might recognize the sound of lips and tongues working upon body parts; he would certainly recognize the sound of a woman -- presumably Emily -- moaning, then crying, then screaming out in ecstasy as the euphoria of a badly needed orgasm ripped through her body.

And all the while, Connor himself remained untouched and unaccompanied in his elbows and knees position on the bed, hands shackled and unable to function, vibrating dildo deep in his ass as it teased him with the unfulfilled promise of ecstasy.

The sounds of joy coming from nearby continued, though, through yet a second orgasm, then a third. Candy was very good at her job, and she knew just what it took to satisfy her client. How long did it take, though? It might have been hard to distinguish for the hooded, gagged man. Ten minutes, twenty, thirty, more?

Eventually, the only sound in the room was the heavy, satisfied breathing of Emily Mathers as she reveled in the afterglow of her third explosion. Then, the mattress moved with the addition of a second body upon it, and the hood ever so slowly was pulled off to reveal the Bureau agent -- her body shimmering from a layer of still wet sweat, her chest rising and falling with still deep breaths -- and she asked Connor, "Ready to continue?"

Candy had moved as well, standing and walking to the end of the bed to retrieve another of the tools from the bag. From the opposite side of the big bed on which Connor knelt, and Emily now lie on her side and one elbow to look into his eyes, the dominatrix whacked a wooden paddle upon one of the man's ass cheeks, being careful not to make contact with the device still up his ass and restricting his cock and balls.

Emily's lips widened in a slight smile at Connor's reaction to the spanking. She reached out to caress his cheek with her fingertips, letting them trace around the ball gag strapped between his lips. Softly, she asked, "Shall we continue?"

 

[HumanBean]

Stan and Renee, then Henry and Renee:

"That was very sweet, Stan," Renee told her husband. "You really made his day."

"Well, I understand what he's going through," Stan responded. There was so much more that he could say about the situation. But he was feeling guilty about the reason for taking the boy to the Bureau. It was dishonest. But it was necessary.

Renee kissed him and wandered off. "I'm going to shower and dress. I'm going in early to study."

Stan watched her go. His eyes dropped to her ass. He loved that ass. He loved fucking his wife from behind. She loved it, too. It was one of their favorite positions. Stan would be lying if he'd said he didn't sometimes think of tapping the other hole down yonder. But he'd never tried that before, and he wasn't about to bring it up and possibly freak Renee out.

If he was to see the video and pics on his wife's phone, Stan would have been the one freaked out. He filled a second mug after Renee stole his. Smiling, he poured a bowl of Henry's cold cereal for himself. He finished it just as the boy returned to the first floor. He was dressed nicely for the day at the bureau.

"Okay, let's do this then," Stan told Henry. "I have to make a quick call. See you in the car."

Henry headed outside, carrying a notebook with him. The last time he'd been at the Bureau, it had been to write an article about how Stan was a hero. He was hoping to see more today and maybe take notes. He didn't know why, of course. He was no longer in school. Stan had suggested he leave the academy in New Hampshire. And they hadn't put him back in a school here in Falls Church yet.

After the boy was gone, Stan got on his phone. He told the man on the other end of the line was one of those who'd followed Henry to the arcade earlier in the week. Stan told him, "Okay, we're leaving now. Keep a car in front and another in back. Once we're there, you guys are relieved."

 

[Alice2015]

Deleted. Will be replaced with something, probably.

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Emily and Candy in a NYC Hotel:

Connor had never played the Sub before. Not really. He'd been forced to do things sexually during his training in Moscow, prior to America. And here, he'd done a couple of things during his continued training with Elizabeth Jennings that he would have preferred not to do.

The two of them had shared a male prostitute once. Mostly, Connor had pleasured the whore or had been pleasured by the whore. It was meant to lessen his inhibitions regarding a same sex interaction. Connor had been perfectly fine with getting his cock sucked by the other man. He'd enjoyed getting his ass fucked far less. Ironically, as Elizabeth stroked his cock, Connor had cum. That had been nice. The worst thing had been swallowing the other man's cum. Yuk! The taste, the thick consistency. How did straight women and gay men do that?

Connor considered himself ready for anything tonight, though. What was ironic was how he felt about the items Candy unpacked. He was fine with the wild-looking butt plug/vibrator/cock ring device. He was okay with the paddle. He was even okay with the ball gag.

What bothered Connor were the hood and the shackles. He'd wanted to watch Emily and even Candy as whatever happened between them happened. But more than that, being shackled meant a near total loss of control. He would be at their total mercy. Connor did believe that this was nothing more than a sexual encounter of the BDSM kind. But what if he was wrong? What if these women knew who and what he was? It was very unlikely. But that didn't mean it wasn't true.

Another thought came to him. Directorate S was suffering a sort of civil war. The Faction was desperate to learn which of their Illegals were on their side in the fight to remove Putin from power. What if they'd decided that Connor couldn't be trusted? What if this was some elaborate ploy to leave him defenseless? To torture him for the names of other anti-faction Illegals?

No, that's ridiculous, Connor told himself as he watched Candy unpack the toys. Over the next few minutes, he surrendered himself to Candy and, indirectly, to Emily. The dominatrix shackled him to the headboard and applied the contraption both into his anus and around his cock and nuts.

Connor was surprised as how gentle the dominatrix was being with him. She obviously didn't want to hurt him. It was about control and humiliation. For now, anyway. There was still the paddle.

The dildo up his ass took a moment to get use to. The ring was a very unusual but not at all unwelcomed feeling. Connor's cock felt as though it was going to explode. Like an over inflated balloon. When Candy turned on the butt plug, he moaned noticeably. The device stimulated his prostate in a way it hadn't been during his gay prostitute encounter.

He began to wonder what Emily's true goal here was. She was pleasuring him, not punishing him. Sure, most people would have looked at the toys and thought differently. But Connor was beginning to truly enjoy what was being done to him. He hadn't thought that would be Emily's reason for this.

Then, he heard sounds that told him what was happening between the two women. It seemed obvious that the whore was pleasuring the ASAC. Tongue and lips and fingers, Connor imagined from inside his hood. He wanted so badly to watch the pair. Instead, he only got the voice over. Emily cried out in orgasm. Then again. Then again. Candy was good!

He couldn't watch, which was disappointing. But worse than that, Connor couldn't cum. The vibrating object up his ass felt great. But his climax evaded him. That's the punishment, he told himself. That's the humiliation part. And the punishment, the humiliation just went on and on and on. Connor began to wonder how much time had passed. It seemed like an eternity.

He was certain that Emily had experienced three separate orgasms. At least, he thought it was Emily crying out in ecstasy. Maybe Emily was pleasuring the dominatrix?

He considered how quickly a woman could experience three orgasms. Every woman was different, of course. Connor had once caused a lover to explode three times just second apart. Another time he driven four or five orgasms from a woman over three hours of on again, off again fucking and sucking.

There was no way to know how long he'd been like this on his knees and elbows. His muscles and joints were beginning to ache, though. It had been a while.

Then, Connor realized that the room had gone much quieter. He could hear heavy breathing but nothing else. Then, the bed shifted. Someone was sitting close to Connor. A hand pulled the hood off. Emily was sitting next to him. She was naked, her skin shimmering from a layer of still wet sweat.

"Ready to continue?" she asked Connor.

He looked for Candy. She was moving about the end of the bed, gathering a toy. Connor looked back to Emily. She was so sexy, particularly post-orgasm. Her chest was still rising and falling in strained breaths. He was now certain that it had in fact been the dominatrix who'd been pleasuring the Special Agent.

Connor couldn't speak an answer with the ball gag still in place. Instead, he nodded his head emphatically. An instant later the paddle came down hard upon his right ass cheek and upper thigh. He groaned out at the pain. Tears filled his eyes. Emily reached her fingers up, wiping away the tear running down his cheek. Again she asked, "Shall we continue?"
Again, without hesitation, Connor nodded. Again, the paddle came down, this time upon the other side of his posterior. Again, Connor groaned into the ball gag. He blinked away the tears that were natural to such a pain. He looked to Emily for her to repeat her question, to which he would again nod his head.

 

[Alice2015]

Emily and Candy with Connor in a NYC Hotel:

"Shall we continue?" Emily asked William casually after the second smack of the paddle came down upon his ass. She smiled at his immediate nod. She again reached up to wipe away a tear, reaching the wet finger to her mouth to suck off the drop of saltiness. She looked to Candy, nodded, and then looked back to Connor as he reacted to yet another whack. The pain in his face was beautiful, as was the determined look when he nodded again to Emily without her even asking if they should continue. Another nod brought another whack, another groan, another tear. This time Emily sat up taller, licked the tear from Connor's cheek, and whispered, "Wonderful taste."

William would nod continuation of the spanking another eleven times before Emily finally told the dominatrix with a soft voice, "That'll be enough, Candy. You've been wonderful. You can go."

"Yes, Miss," Candy said, smiling.

"I can call you to pick up your things, yes?" Emily asked.

"Of course," the dominatrix answered. "No hurry."

"You'll see a nice tip when you check your account," Emily said.

Candy thanked her, then moved to the head of the bed, grabbed a handful of of Connor's hair, and pulled his head back to that they were looking into each other's eyes. She told him with a tone of appreciation, "No one's ever made it past fifteen with me before."

She gathered her clothes from where she'd shed them and left the room ... leaving Connor still on his knees and elbows with the butt plug and cock ring contraction in place and the ball gag still strapped around his skull.

After they were alone, Emily stood and moved to the back of the bed. Connor couldn't see what she was doing, but he would find out soon enough. She came onto the bed, pushing his knees farther apart, removed the plug from his butt, disconnected it from the rest of the contraption, and tossed it aside. Then, having already lubed it well, she slid the strap-on that she'd donned deep into Connor's ass. It, too, had a vibration function, and together with her hard, deep thrusts into the man's ass, she actually hoped that William would finally cum.

Whether he did or not, she eventually quit her energetic thrusts, disconnecting the dildo portion of the strap-on from the assembly, and pushing Connor down to his belly. She reached between her legs with one hand to manipulate her clit while the fingers of the other hand dug their modest nails into the flesh of the man's ass. As she got closer and closer to orgasm, her claws began to leave indentations, then scratches, then break the surface and draw blood in several places.

Emily finally threw her head back as she cried out in ecstasy, her entire body trembling as her heart beat hard and fast. After a long moment of overwhelming euphoria, she collapsed down upon Connor's body and just laid there for several minutes. It was only after her body had finally returned to a relaxed state that she began speaking softly about how hard she worked to get where she was, how much harder she'd had to work than the men surrounding her, and how even then she hadn't achieved the position she thought she deserved.

She never mentioned the FBI or even that she was in government service; she was very guarded about that. It wasn't because she knew that Connor was a Russian operative, of course; she didn't. It was simply because such talk wasn't advisable. Hiring two prostitutes to engage in sadomasochistic sex wasn't advisable either, but that was the way things were.

Eventually, Emily rose again, unhooked the belts around her waist and upper thighs, tossed the apparatus aside, then removed Connor's ball gag. Before it was entirely off, she told him softly, "I'd rather you didn't speak, please."

She dismounted the bed, retrieved her purse, and fished out a stack brand new bills that Connor would later discover amounted to $600. "I paid your fee already. This is for you, though." She headed for the bathroom to clean up, stopping in the door to look back at Connor with a slight smile. "Thank you ... for ... enduring that."

Emily wanted to tell him that given the chance, she would have done what she and Candy had done to a select group of men at the FBI and other government agencies. But she didn't really need to tell him that; she felt that her talk with him had already told him enough about why he'd taken the damage.

"You can let yourself out," she told him. "I have a way home."

She didn't close the door to the bathroom as she warmed up the shower; she had no reason to hide her nude body as Connor had seen it already.

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Emily and Candy in a NYC Hotel:

"Shall we continue?"

Emily asked Connor that question again and again. And again and again, he pushed through the pain of the paddle upon his ass to nod for more. Eventually, Emily told the other woman, "That'll be enough, Candy. You've been wonderful. You can go."

Connor had never been so thankful for anything in his life. He hadn't expected this. Not at all. He'd expected to get naked with Emily Mathers and do for her whatever she wanted done. BDSM had been the farthest thing from his mind when Anna had explained to him that he was playing escort tonight.

This had been important, though. They'd needed to get close to the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the investigation of Directorate S. If possible, they'd needed blackmail material on the ASAC. They'd gotten it. Connor's ass could attest to that.

Candy redressed and prepared to leave the room. Connor couldn't help but notice that she was leaving him still gagged, still shackled, and still bearing the cock & ball ring and butt plug contraption. Before she left, though, the dominatrix grasped a handful of his hair. She pulled his head back and smiled at him. "No one's ever made it past fifteen with me before."

He realized that she was talking about individual spanks. Honestly, Connor had lost track of how many times the paddle had met his ass and upper thighs. All he knew was that his backside was on fire with pain. Candy stepped away, and soon afterward Connor would hear the door of the suite slam shut.

In the meantime, Emily mounted the bed behind him. He was relieved to feel the butt plug slipping out. The cock & ball rings remained though. Connor knew that meant they weren't done. What more could she possibly do to me? he thought. A moment later, he learned. His sphincter again felt penetration. When he felt Emily's front against his back, he knew she'd donned the strap-on. The toy vibrated as she fucked him hard and deep.

Connor had never had an interest in being the fuckee of anal sex. But he suddenly changed his mind. The satisfaction that had evaded him while Candy and Emily played came to him quickly. The pleasure rose and rose, seemingly without satisfaction as before. But then his balls began leaping, exploding great wads of cum onto the bedding beneath him. The euphoria was like nothing he'd ever experienced. His brain seemed to roll around inside his skull. Connor likely would have collapsed if Emily hadn't had his hips in her hands, keeping him up as she continued fucking his ass.

Eventually, she released her hold on Connor. He fell to the mattress, the puddles of now cooler jizz smearing against the warm skin of his belly. His mind was still swimming. But he understood by the motion of the bed and sounds coming from Emily what was happening behind him.

Connor turned his head. Emily's head was tilted up, her back arched, and her hands at her crotch. The fingers of one hand parted her labia. The fingers of the other worked feverishly upon her clit. After a moment, the hand opening her reached to Connor's ass. She grasped a butt cheek with nails that dug into him. Her claws might have been an appropriate length for her professional position. But they still did a number on Connor's ass. Later at the motel room, he would shed his underwear to find spots of blood from the cuts Emily had caused.

He didn't know whether or not Emily wanted him to watch her. But with her head back, she wouldn't know. He could see that climax was imminent. It was incredible. Her body twitched, jerked. And all the while, her nails dug deeper and more painfully into Connor's posterior.

Finally, Emily exploded. She cried out more loudly than she had either time with Candy's mouth on her pussy. It was a spectacular, lasting climax. Connor loved it. It made all that had come before it almost worth it. Almost.

Emily eventually collapsed forward upon Connor's body. He could feel her heart beating against him. Her breathing was deep and labored. Connor wanted to say something to her, to ask her if she was happy. The ball gag still in his mouth prevented that.

It was several minutes later that Emily began speaking. She was almost in whisper. She spoke about her reasons for wanting to do what she'd did to a man. Connor understood it, of course. He was a modern man. He was well informed as to what women put up with in this world of man. He'd lived through and was still living through the Me Too movement. He knew all about the rich and powerful misogynists, in America and beyond, who'd used, abused, and/or tossed aside women when they were through with them.

It was now that Connor was happy to have the gag in his mouth. This was a moment when it was best for him to keep his mouth shut. Or, actually, open but stuffed. The last thing a woman wanted while she was ranting about men was for a man to interject. At least, that was what he was thinking. How would he know, though? He was one of those men.

Connor was hoping that Emily would speak about her position, responsibilities, and duties at the FBI. This was an opportunity to get more clues about what the FBI knew about the issues in Directorate S. But she said nothing of value regarding the Bureau or the investigation. Disappointing.

Eventually, Emily rose and removed the sex toys strapped to each of them. Connor rolled his lower jaw around after the ball gag was removed, fighting the stiffness. Again, Connor thought about what he would say now that he was free to do so. But Emily interceded, saying, "I'd rather you didn't speak, please."

He was sitting up cautiously and only nodded his understanding. He watched as she laid out a wad of cash. "I paid your fee already. This is for you, though."

Connor opened his mouth to say my pleasure. He caught himself, though. None of this had been about his pleasure! It had been about what Emily wanted, pleasure or not. Again, he only nodded politely. She entered the bathroom, stopping to smile lightly and say, "Thank you ... for ... enduring that. You can let yourself out. I have a way home."

Connor watched Emily as she prepared the shower. She was such an incredible woman. He wanted to follow her into the hot, spraying water. But, again, this wasn't about him and his pleasure. He gathered and donned his clothes. He counted the tip. It was unexpected. Was this normal in this line of work? Or was this just Emily's way of thanking the victim of her process?

Did Connor's predecessor pocket this much cash after he'd served Emily? More importantly, did Connor get to keep it all? There were a great many negative aspects to Connor's job as Russian spy. One of those was that it wasn't something that made an Illegal a great deal of money. It wasn't something you volunteered to do because you wanted to get rich. It was done out of duty to the Motherland.

Connor looked to the chauffeur's cap sitting atop his folded overcoat. He smirked, wondering just what was on it. He'd experienced most of what had happened tonight. But he'd seen only a portion of it. Connor would love to know just what they had on Emily. He was sure that the Agent was clearly in the camera's line of sight. Connor wanted to go back to the motel and beat off while watching the recording.

Maybe Anna will join me? Chicks did porn, don't they? Actually, he didn't think they did. Most porn was made for the pleasure and benefit of men. And most productions didn't shine a good light on women. There were, of course, exceptions. But Connor hadn't seen many.

He donned the cap and overcoat and headed out. Downstairs, he found the Towncar still parked up close. He tipped his hat to the concierge. Connor had his suspicions that the man behind the desk had his own suspicions about why a limo driver would accompany his client to her room for so long. Should he care? No. All Connor should care about was that the man didn't take too much notice of him.

Connor was well trained, so he'd inconspicuously kept his head down and cap on when he'd arrived. He didn't want the security cameras catching a good view of him. If they ended up blackmailing ASAC Mathers, Connor would be sought by the FBI eventually. It could be the end of his life on the East Coast. The Center would have to move him. California? Washington State? Canada?

He headed for the motel and Anna. Playing the night in the back of his mind, Connor found himself getting hard. It ached a bit. His manhood had been through a lot tonight. It might take a couple of days to get past this. Or not. How would he know?

 

[Alice2015]

Anna with Connor:

Anna was still awake, sitting in the motel room watching of all things Warday, a movie about a limited nuclear exchange between Russia and the United States. She was conflicted about this movie and other movies like it; as a Russian, she hoped that if ever there was a nuclear exchange between the two superpowers, that the Motherland fared better or wasn't harmed at all, and yet if that did happen, Anna -- and Connor, and the rest of the Illegals in America -- would most likely be killed by the blasts or would die over time from the radiation they'd endured.

She nearly leapt out of her skin at Connor's knock upon the door. She peeked out the window, found a very exhausted looking Connor looking back at her, and hurried to open the door. "Jesus Christ."

Anna dragged him inside and closed the door behind her. With obvious curiosity, she asked, "Well, how'd it go?"

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Anna at their motel room after his encounter with Emily:

"Jesus Christ," Anna said. She dragged Connor inside. "Well, how'd it go?"

"Went fine," he mumbled. He shed his overcoat and cap. He handed the latter to Anna. "It's all on there, assuming it worked."

He headed for the bathroom, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he reached the bathtub, he was naked. He couldn't see the damage on his back, of course. He could have looked in the mirror. He didn't. He'd rather not know.

Connor fired up the shower and stepped inside the tub.

 

[Alice2015]

Anna with Connor at their motel room:

Anna was tickled when Connor handed her the chauffeur's cap with the recording devices in it and said, "It's all on there, assuming it worked."

When Connor headed for the bathroom, shedding his clothes, Anna couldn't help but smile. She'd already seen him naked and enjoyed what she'd seen, and now she was going to get another viewing of his wonderful form?

Then, as soon as his slacks fell away to his ankles, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open; the bruises were already forming where he'd been paddled and his underwear had red stains where Emily’s nails had dug into his flesh and broke his skin.

“My God, what the fuck…?” she exclaimed as she followed after him. As Connor waited for the hot water to arrive, Anna turned him toward the light to give her a better view of his backside, saying with a sincere tone, “I didn't know. Really, Connor.”

As he stepped into the water, Anna told him, “I'm going to that market across the street for stuff to deal with this. I'll be right back.”

Ten minutes later, Anna was back with disinfectants, bandages, Neosporin, pain killers, over-the-counter sleeping aids, and more. Connor was only beginning to dry off; she took the towel from him and said, “I'll finish this. Just grab a handrail and don't fall over. You look half asleep … or half dead … or both.”

She ran the towel over him entirely, with the exception of his manhood, which she had playfully handled earlier in the evening yet now left to Connor to dry off. She guided him to one of the two beds, threw back the bedding, and made him comfortable on his front side, then set about cleaning and doctoring his wounds.

“I hate to tell you this,” Anna said with an apologetic tone, “but you're probably going to hurt even worse tomorrow.”

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Anna at their motel room:

Connor didn't think twice about shedding his clothes as he entered the motel room. Anna had already seen him naked. Hell, she'd playfully taken hold of his cock, complimenting it on its appearance and feel. His stripping had nothing to with her. It was all about getting the cloth off his skin and flesh. Every time he moved, it hurt.

“My God, what the fuck…?” Anna exclaimed at the sight of his injuries. “I didn't know."

"I know," he mumbled.

"Really, Connor," she stressed.

"I know," he said loud enough for her to hear. "I know."

Connor stepped into the shower. He flinched as the water hit his skin. He turned the temperature down, then again, then again. By the time he was ready to get out, there was practically no hot water left in the mix. The coolness seemed to ease the pain.

As he soaked, Connor thought about what had occurred. He'd never imagined he'd become the Special Agent's sub in her BDSM games. If he'd known what was ahead, he doubted that he would have been excited about participating. It wasn't the assignment he would have chosen if he'd had the chance. Connor had never turned down a task. But then, none of them had been like this.

He was just getting out of the shower when Anna returned from the nearby store. She had what he needed to survive the night: medicine, bandages, and more. He let Anna towel dry him. She was gentle with him. She was modest with him, too, letting him dry off his own junk. It was all rather intimate. Blood rushed to his cock but only enough to lift it a bit. He was surprised that he didn't stiffen up hard as a rock. It was the discomfort of his treatment by Candy and Emily that kept him semi-flaccid.

“I hate to tell you this,” Anna said when they were on the bed bandaging his fingernail wounds. “But you're probably going to hurt even worse tomorrow.”

"The story of my life," he chuckled. His work for Directorate S over more than a decade had resulted in about as many physical confrontations. Connor's training was the only reason he was still alive. Between hand-to-hand combat, knife work, and firearms training, Connor was as able to defend himself as well as any Special Force's soldier. Still, his torso sported scars where a knife, a piece of rebar, and a bullet had each done damage. Anytime someone asked about the wounds, usually women with whom he was naked, he claimed they were from an automobile accident.

Connor flinched his fair share while Anna treated the damage. It wasn't nearly as bad as it looked. Most of what hurt were the aching muscled from the spanking. The clawing of his ass he barely felt. Eventually, the pain killers took effect, and Connor simply drifted off to sleep...

 

[Alice2015]

Anna with Connor at their motel room:

After Connor drifted off, Anna rose gently from the bed, tucked him in, retrieved the chauffeur's cap, laptop, and her ear buds, then headed for the bathroom. There, she removed the Trident Gum-sized device that was the heart of the recording system that, hopefully, had caught the night in full living color and sound. Pushing a fingernail into a slit, she ejected the sim card from the bug, inserted it into a sim card reader, then inserted the reader into the laptop's USB port.

A couple of keystrokes later, her eyes widened at what she saw. She knew by now, of course, that Emily had put Connor through some form of BDSM torture, but Anna hadn't expected that there would be a second woman there doing the first half of the punishment phase, intermixed with going down on the Special Agent's pussy. When she realized that Emily Mathers was likely moaning or crying out in pleasure, Anna jammed the ear buds in and unmuted the laptop, just in time to hear the Special Agent cry out in ecstasy for the first of three times.

Anna found herself getting warm and wet between her thighs and -- leaning to the door to ensure that it was locked -- reached a hand up under her skirt and inside her panties to flick her bean, as some women still called pleasuring themselves. Even though she much preferred men, Anna had been with women for either or both work and for recreation. Watching Emily writhe in that armchair as the whore/dominatrix ate her out made Anna yearn to have either of the women on their knees before her.

Ironically, Anna wasn't sure whether she was more stimulated by what the dominatrix was doing to Mathers or by what she was doing to Connor. She was sympathetic to her fellow Illegal for the pain and, presumably, humiliation he'd been put through in the name of the Motherland, but at the same time she could understand why a woman like Emily would feel the desire -- maybe even the deep-seated need -- to do that to a male of the species.

With the laptop now sitting precariously on the edge of the bathtub, Anna stood to remove her panties, sat on the toilet seat cover with a towel there to block the cold of the plastic, and returned to masturbating with the fingers of one hand pulling open her labia while the fingers of the other worked her clit furiously.

Nearing orgasm but fearing that the verbal result of climax would alert her partner in crime, Anna reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Only increasing the erotic delight of her explosion was that just seconds before she came, she heard in her ear buds Connor groaning into the ball gag as strings of cum streamed out before his rock-hard cock onto the bedding before him. Moments later, Emily cried out at the euphoria of her fourth orgasm of the night, this one also at the workings of her own fingers upon her clit.

Anna frantically and greedily flicked her nub back and forth for the longest time, desperately wanting the waves of pleasure to continue as long as possible. When finally, she began coming down from her peak, she slumped forward toward the tub, slapping her free hand down upon the edge; her chest swelled and shrank to deep, desperate breaths as her heart pounded fiercely. After several minutes -- while she watched Emily lay atop Connor, talking softly, before freeing him and releasing him from his duty -- Anna closed down the laptop, stripped, and stepped into the tub for a quick shower to rid herself of the smell of sex.

She eventually made her way to the second bed, slipped inside, studied Connor for a moment as she wondered whether or not he would be amenable to being fucked, and finally fell asleep. She dreamed wonderful, erotic dreams...

<<<<<<< >>>>>>>
​

Anna awoke first, finding Connor still deep in sleep. She dressed warmly, returned to the nearby convenience store, and returned a few minutes later with coffee and a variety of breakfast foods. As she entered, Connor woke up, looking to her. "Morning sleepy head. How's your backside?"

 

[Alice2015]

Paige in Washington DC:

She slept poorly, the anxiety of everything she was going through -- and, of course, sleeping on a cot in a cold garage -- waking her repeatedly through the night. She slipped out of the sleeping bag to pee into a wide mouthed jar, slipped back into the relative warmth of the wool bag in the hopes of getting more sleep, and when she realized that that simply wasn't going to happen, she finally got up, got dressed, checked the street for potential dangers, and made her way to the nearest coffee shop for some caffeine and carbohydrates.

Her mind was overwhelmed with topics that fought for attention: Nick, Connor, her parents, her brother, the Center, the plot to overthrow Putin, and so much more -- and not at all in that order. Paige's main topic of thinking this morning was Henry and of how she was going to deal with him. She wanted so badly to make contact with him, but she was obviously concerned about how he would react. Paige and her parents had abandoned him; they were Russian spies who'd abandoned him, leaving him to fend for himself on his own with no support system other than, ironically, the man whose job it had been and still was to catch them all and put them in jail.

Paige knew that making contact with Henry was insane ... and yet she'd decided that that was exactly what she was going to do. All she had to do now was figure out how and when to do it.

 

[Alice2015]

Renee Beeman and Denise Taylor

FBI Training Center
Washington DC

Renee had told Stan that she was heading in to work early to study with some other Human Resources trainees, when in actuality, she'd simply wanted to bump into Denise Taylor during the latter's 10am coffee break. She searched the cafeteria for the HR trainer as she got herself a cup of coffee, disappointingly not finding her. Casually, Renee made inquiries of some of the people she knew were acquainted with Denise, only to find out that the woman hadn't come into work that morning.

She was leaving the cafeteria and heading to one of the self-study rooms when she caught sight of the older Bureau employee coming her way. Renee waited until Denise caught sight of her, then smiled and waved politely.

(OOC: I'm eager to see how Denise reacts.)

 

[HumanBean]

Connor, with Anna at their motel room:

Connor awoke at the sound of the room's door opening. Anna could have been awake and up for minutes or hours. He couldn't tell. He sat up, grimacing at pain in his butt. Inside or outside? Maybe both.

"Morning sleepy head," she said, smiling. "How's your backside?"

"Funny you should ask," he said. He tried to ignore the discomfort. He let his legs fall out of the bed. He was more modest this morning, keep the bedding over his groin. He ran the previous night through his mind for a moment. Then he asked, "Did you watch the recording? Did we get what we needed?"